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Slender fingers suddenly grabbed his hand and moved his finger from her mouth.
‘Are you here to ogle me or rescue me?’ she asked in an exaggerated whisper.
‘Can’t a man do both?’
‘Not when I’m about to be dragged out of this room and frogmarched down the aisle in five minutes.’
‘That is a very good point.’ Stepping away from her, Marcelo carried the chair from her dressing table to the door and quietly but securely placed it under the handle before looking at his watch and turning back to her. ‘We have two minutes. Do you have anything you can change into?’
‘In two minutes?’
‘One minute and fifty seconds.’
She held her palms out and shrugged. ‘It took an hour for them to pin me into this stupid thing.’
‘Scissors?’
‘Not allowed them in case I stab someone,’ she explained cheerfully.
He dropped to his knees in front of her and took hold of the lace at the hem of the dress. ‘Stay still.’
‘What are you doing?’
‘This...’ Looking up at her beautiful face, he tore the lace.
She pulled a mock shocked face. ‘But, sir, we’ve only just met.’
He grinned, put a hand to her hip and spun her around to help the lace rip until it was removed all the way to her hips.
In the distance came the telltale sound of his helicopter nearing them. Now for the silk of the dress. This proved harder to tear into than the lace.
‘Use your teeth?’ she suggested.
He pulled his own mock shocked face. ‘But, madam, we’ve only just met.’ And then he proceeded to do exactly as she’d suggested.
With thirty seconds to go, all that remained of the skirt of the wedding dress was ragged scraps of silk falling to mid-thigh on the most fabulous pair of golden legs Marcelo had ever seen. His hands fisted on the material he still had hold of as the compulsion to grip the curvy hips and press his face into the cleavage on display where the silk and lace of the dress dipped like a heart surged through him.
Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined his damsel in distress would be so damn sexy.
‘Eyes to face, Berruti,’ she scolded, holding her fore and index fingers like claws to her eyes.
He gazed up at the beautiful face. ‘You know who I am?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘I don’t let any old riff-raff rescue me, you know.’
Dio, he wanted to kiss that smart, perfectly plump mouth but, with time pressing, he resisted, instead jumping to his feet and taking hold of her hand.
‘How are you with heights?’ he asked. The helicopter now hovered over them, its rotors so loud whispering was no longer an option.
‘I guess we’re about to find out?’
A rope appeared in front of the window at the same moment the handle of the door rattled.
‘Time’s up,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’
‘Hold on a sec.’ She yanked her hand from his and knelt down to scoop up a small chocolate-brown furry thing Marcelo hadn’t noticed before.
‘You can’t take that,’ he said as loud shouting and hammering penetrated through the door.
