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Given her parents’ social standing, Scarlet had always known that her own special day would be big, with every convention not only followed but prominently displayed. She’d organized enough of those weddings to know they could be exhausting for the bride. But then anything worthwhile usually was.
As Scarlet packed up for the day, her thoughts wandered more. What kind of a wedding would Daniel McNeal want? Something casual. Even zany, perhaps. Certainly nothing that would suit her needs or taste. Anyway, Mr. McNeal didn’t strike her as the marrying kind.
About to head out, she stopped to catch a private call on her cell.
“Ariella rang,” Cara Cranshaw began. “She left a message. I only got ahold of her now. She told me the results.”
“I wonder when the paparazzi will get wind of the news. No offense.”
“Believe me, Max doesn’t like the way this was handled by the press any more than we do.”
Max Grayson had been a reporter before switching to an off-camera role.
“How was Ariella when she left you?” Cara asked.
“Resigned to the fact that nothing will ever be the same.” Scarlet closed her office door behind her.
“I asked her over. I figured she might need some company but she said she’d rather be alone tonight.”
Scarlet had thought about offering her friend company, as well. “I’ll text and say we’re here if she needs us.”
“What are you doing tonight?” Cara asked. “I’m staying at Max’s place, but he’s working until late. Your man’s out of town for a few days, isn’t he?”
Moving toward the front reception area, Scarlet’s thoughts skidded to a halt. By “your man,” Cara had meant Everett, but for some crazy reason Daniel McNeal’s face had flashed in her mind. As if he were standing before her now, with that crooked grin and sexy dark blond bed-hair, awareness rippled through her, making every one of her extremities tingle.
Totally inappropriate.
Back straight, she continued on her way, picking up the thread of the conversation.
“One of Everett’s New York clients needed some figures evaluated.”
“Why don’t you come over, then?” Cara said. “We can dabble with details for the reception. I’m still torn about a color scheme.”
Scarlet hesitated. Now that Ariella didn’t want company tonight, she’d half thought about forgetting the outside world for a while and chilling out with a glass of wine. But she adored Cara’s company. And aside from the fun of discussing her friend’s wedding, she did have her own bit of news to share.
Or should she wait for the ring to be on her finger? For Everett to return from New York … There really wasn’t any rush.
“Sure.” Scarlet breezed through the foyer. Although Cara and Max as good as lived together now, Cara had kept her great loft apartment so Scarlet hadn’t needed to visit Max’s penthouse yet, but she knew the address from the Cranshaw-Grayson Wedding file. “See you in an hour.”
Lee, their effervescent receptionist, had already left for the day. But halfway to the door, something on the front counter caught Scarlet’s eye and dragged her all the way back. A dozen roses—a mix of yellow, coral and peach—sat perfectly arranged in a round glass bowl. Inhaling, Scarlet sighed at their exquisite perfume. Her fingertips brushed the velvet-soft petals. But the best part—the thing that set this bouquet above any other—was the highly original add-in. Perched atop an artificial stem sat a toy animal. A marsupial to be exact.
A boxing kangaroo dressed in a tuxedo and a big black bow tie.
At home, Scarlet ran a deep bubble bath and put on a favorite classical CD. While she soaked, she reconsidered Ariella’s situation, then dwelled again on the thousand and one details relating to the cathedral wedding they were planning. But her thoughts kept swerving back to Daniel McNeal, his kangaroo-topped bouquet and the way he’d caught her in his arms when that fateful misstep had sent her toppling off her ladder.
Sinking lower in the scented suds, she recalled how his blue gaze had burned, leaving her lips feeling scorched and her equilibrium in tatters. She’d been attracted to men before but never in this quivery, syrupy way that left her short of breath and, for the first time in her life, reassessing who she was. Even doubting what she wanted.
Was this sudden irrational attraction a common enough case of cold feet?
As far as Scarlet was concerned, aside from having children, getting married was the most important event of a person’s life. Being a little anxious was only natural even though she’d known Everett for over a year. On all fronts they got on well. Most importantly, she loved him. Not dizzy, cry-myself-to-sleep-over-you love but rather an appropriate, stable kind of affection. Which was a far cry from her intense schoolgirl reaction to Daniel.
What was love—a sound marriage—based on, anyway? Respect and support of mutual goals. Not wild, lust-driven emotions for someone who was so obviously her opposite. Daniel exuded a blistering energy that would likely set off fireworks in any woman’s central nervous system. He was insanely handsome, charismatic and confident. From what she’d seen of it, his tall, toned physique was exceptional. His personality was cheeky. Intriguing.
Like his see-all blue eyes.
Out of the tub and drying off, Scarlet crossed into her bedroom’s walk-in closet. Her fingers skimmed business skirts and after-five dresses. When she paused at a pair of jeans, she remembered the way the denim had hugged Daniel’s muscled thighs today and a breath fluttered in her throat. She didn’t often wear jeans. Cruisy Daniel McNeal might suggest she didn’t wear them often enough. But she wasn’t dressing for him tonight. Or any other night, for that matter.
Before pulling on a light angora sweater and black tailored pants, she called a cab and pulled a bottle of Chablis from the fridge. Because of her condition, Cara wouldn’t drink but Scarlet could go one or two herself tonight.
Scarlet soon arrived at Max Grayson’s address. Her friend answered the door to the penthouse with a welcoming smile.
“Come on in,” Cara said, stepping aside. “I was about to call you.”
“I’m a little late. I indulged in a lovely long bath….”
Stepping over the threshold, Scarlet’s words trailed off. A voice was filtering out from the living room into the foyer. A man’s voice. Deep. Rumbling. She frowned.
Cara had said Max would be working late.
Then another male voice replied to the first and Scarlet’s heart leaped to her instantly clogged throat. That accent was unmistakable. What was he doing here? This was supposed to be a quiet girls’ night in, not a foursome, and certainly not with Daniel McNeal.
What would she say if he mentioned those flowers? Worse, how would she react if he smiled at her that certain unsettling way? She’d bet her town house he’d find an excuse to prowl into her off-limits personal space.
Scarlet took a shaky step back.
She had to go.
“You said Max was working late.”
“He surprised me.”
“I don’t want to interrupt.”
Laughing softly, Cara urged her friend forward. “You’re not interrupting, silly. In fact, there’s someone here we’d like you to meet.”
Scarlet’s thoughts and stomach lurched. She needed an excuse. Needed to get out of here fast. But Cara had a hold of her arm now and, with each doubtful step, those voices grew louder, clearer. A series of internal brushfires ignited, pumping forbidden heat through her veins, leaving her feeling flushed and all the more flustered. Then she and Cara stood beneath an arch that led into the living room and two pair of eyes glanced their way.
She was vaguely aware of Max’s smile, his standing to greet her and saying hello. She was a thousand times more attuned to the presence of that other man. As Daniel’s lidded gaze embraced hers, she was consumed by sensations that were so powerful and bright she felt as if she’d been struck by a bolt of lightning.
Cara introduced her. “Daniel McNeal, I’d like you to meet a dear friend, Scarlet Anders.”
With a knowing grin, Daniel languidly pushed to his feet. “We’ve met.”
“You have?” Blinking, Cara’s gaze shifted back and forth between the two of them. “Where? When? You’ve only been in town a day.”
In her daze, Scarlet recognized that Daniel had swapped jeans for custom-made dark trousers and a crisp white shirt. As he strolled over, his polished lace-ups gleamed in the track lighting and a gold cuff link flashed as he extended a big bronzed hand. Without thinking, she accepted the gesture and that lightning bolt struck again, zapping and sizzling up her arm until, with a starburst, it hit her chest as well as a little south of her navel. It didn’t help when his fingers wrapped around hers and squeezed just a little like they had earlier that day.
“We met this morning,” he said, then proceeded to fill his audience in on how he’d shown up at DC Affairs and saved her from that stepladder fall.
“Thank God you were there,” Cara said while Scarlet pried her gaze away from Daniel’s to concentrate on the fact that he still held her hand. Bringing herself back to the conversation, she gently pulled her hand away.
“I’ve already thanked Mr. McNeal for his help.”
“Mr. McNeal?” Cara pulled a wry face. “You’re not at the office now. Let me take that bottle of wine. Max, can you pour Scarlet a drink? Something with bubbles to celebrate friends coming together.”
Scarlet’s attention skirted around Daniel’s frame. Max was headed for the bar, but he looked quizzically over his shoulder at his two guests, as if he knew something he shouldn’t. Had Daniel already confided in his friend the fact that they’d met? That he’d asked her out to dinner? If that were the case, surely Max would have mentioned she was dating someone….
Although Max had only once seen her with Everett, and her date had spent half the time away from their table on his cell. Understandable. Even forgivable. Everett’s services were in high demand.
Daniel was escorting her to the two sofas in the living room. Cara had lowered onto the three-seater. Max, having handed over a chilled glass of champagne to their latest guest, was joining her. Left with no choice, Scarlet sank onto the two-seater, and Daniel sat beside her. Finding his glass—containing what looked like a soda—he proposed a toast.
“To rescuing a damsel in distress.”
Raising her own lime soda, Cara beamed. “Hear, hear. Although I’ve never known Scarlet to need saving before.”
Daniel’s brows arched and a sexy bracket formed at one side of his mouth as he smiled. “Is that so?”
“Of all my friends, Scarlet is the one least likely to crumple under pressure.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Scarlet was thinking of Ariella and how well she’d handled the recent media attention. She doubted, put in the same situation, she’d handle that kind of news with anything less than a lock-me-away-for-a-month meltdown.
“Scarlet, honestly.” Cara set her glass on the coffee table. “In your world, nothing’s ever out of place. You invented the word poise.”
“Begs the question, doesn’t it? What do you do to unwind?” Daniel asked casually while Scarlet, her mind gone blank, clasped her hands in her lap.
To unwind? “Well … I, er, like to ski.”
“Me, too.” Daniel laughed. “On the water, though, not in Aspen.”
Scarlet didn’t allow herself to imagine him in bathing shorts. Those shoulders, that chest … Lord, she might hyperventilate.
“I like to read and go to the theater,” she added.
Daniel considered that, then asked, “How about bikes?”
“I own a bike,” she replied, “but I don’t get out near enough. Peddling around is good exercise, though.”
“I mean motorbikes.”
“As long as I’ve known him,” Max said, “Daniel has loved belting down a highway on two wheels.”
Scarlet forced a polite smile. “I’m afraid I’ve never been on that kind of a bike.”
“You should try it.” Daniel tipped a fraction closer and his intoxicating masculine scent drifted into her system. “I could take you out. Bet you’d like it.”
She pinned him with a warning look. “Bet I wouldn’t.”
“Maybe we should call that cab now,” Max pitched in.
Scarlet glanced across. “What cab?”
“When Max showed up with Daniel,” Cara said, “and I told them I was expecting you, he suggested we all go out to grab a bite.”
Daniel looked at her innocently. “Would you like to come out to dinner?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Thank you, no.”
“Scarlet, are you feeling all right?”
At the concerned note in Cara’s voice, Scarlet preened back her ruffled feathers and remembered where she was, who she was with. She made it a point never to be rude. That only revealed weakness. A lack of self-control.
“I’m fine,” she said evenly. “I’m just … not dressed to go out.”
Cara waved the excuse away. “You look fabulous, as always.”
Cornered, Scarlet took a good long sip of champagne. Cara might not have picked up on the thrust and parry game she and Daniel were playing but, from the gleam in his eye, Daniel McNeal wanted Scarlet to know he was intent on pursuing her. She ought to tell him here and now she was unavailable. In fact, what was stopping her? She didn’t need to be gauche and slap him around the head with it. Perhaps if she happened to mention that she was missing Everett.
Even if that wasn’t strictly true. Everett hadn’t been gone twenty-four hours, and she’d had a pile of other stuff filling her head.
“Scarlet was very helpful today,” Daniel was saying.
Her chin tucked in. “I was?”
“When you agreed to work with me on some ideas I’d like to contribute to the wedding,” he reminded her.
“I said I’d look over your ideas.”
“What kind of ideas?” Cara asked.
“A couple of small things,” he said, “that won’t clash with etiquette or good taste.”
Daniel sent Scarlet a mischievous “proud of me?” grin while Cara’s eyes shone with affection.
“I’m not the least surprised she made herself available,” Cara said. “Scarlet’s not only a great friend, she’s the best wedding planner around.”
Scarlet burned to speak up. Yes, she was Cara’s friend and would do anything in her power to make certain her big day was everything it should be, and more. But that didn’t equate to spending time with Daniel. He made her feel uncomfortable. Restless. Or was that reckless?
Not herself at all.
Cara pushed to her feet. “I’ll just go get my bag.”
“Wait for me. I’ll grab my wallet and cell phone.” Following Cara, Max apologized to his guests, “We won’t be long.”
Daniel reassured him. “Take your time.”
When they were alone, he sat back and simply waited. Eventually, over the lump of irritation building in her throat, Scarlet managed to speak.
“I received your flowers,” she told him. “I admit the kangaroo was a novel touch.”
