AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He took one step toward her and dropped his voice. “If that's how you like it, give me the chance and I will."
The blush that flooded her face was as priceless as the stunned flutter of her eyelids and her sharp intake of breath. Heat and anticipation sparked in the space between them, the weighted pause sending blood rushing to his cock. Christ, she almost looked like she was considering his offer.
Laine looked away first, giving him the closest thing to a win over her he'd ever had. When she turned back it was all business. “Have you tried Dolce for a cake yet?"
The question took him by surprise, but he should have seen it coming. She was playing hardball.
His mouth pinched into a tight line. “No. But be my guest. The phone's right here."
Laine slipped her foot back into her heel and lazed across the carpet, taking a seat in the open club chair closest to the phone. She leaned forward, and for one split second, Jason thought he was going to be rewarded with the sight of her perfect breasts popping free from the top of her dress. He waited as she stretched, twisting, until the full swell was nearly exposed, and his mouth watered for that last little bit of flesh, the cherry tip. God, he wanted her.
He was hot, his cock erect within his pants, his chest feeling like he'd been rock climbing instead of lounging in his office, trying to find a cake to appease this sexy little wedding imp.
Back in control, the tension she'd shown was gone. With one hand, her fingers danced over the number pad, while the other twirled the phone cord. Her hands were long and thin, elegant. She never seemed at a loss for what to do with them, and Jason couldn't stop wondering how they would feel on him.
"Dolce? Hi, Laine Malone from Blissful Brides ... I have an emergency. Is there anything you can do to get me a cake for three hours from now—?” She yanked the phone away from her ear as the clerk on the other end bellowed at her request.
Jason let out a short laugh as he watched her, wondering how much she knew about the Henley rift with Dolce. Couldn't be much, or she would have thrown it in his face before this. Tried to use it for leverage in negotiations to get some bride's most ridiculous fantasy met.
She stared back at him with narrowed eyes and, when the bellowing ceased, pulled the phone back to her ear. “I'm at the Henley Hotel here and ... Hello?” She looked at the earpiece on the phone with shock, as though she thought it might explain why someone would have hung up on her.
Ha. Apparently she didn't know enough to keep her mouth shut about the location of the wedding. Her only shot would have been to offer to pick the cake up, or meet it at the intersection two blocks down. So much for Dolce. “No dice, eh?"
Watching her incredulous expression, he wanted to laugh but tried to rein it in.
"He hung up on me.” She licked her lips and slowly settled the receiver back into its cradle. “I know rude. I deal with it on a daily basis. But that was exceptional."
"They don't do business that involves the hotel."
"So it would seem,” she said, eyeing him carefully.
He cleared his throat and shrugged, then, keeping his tone matter-of-fact, offered a half-hearted explanation. “Dispute over a wedding a few years back."
"That must have been some dispute."
She wanted more information, and he was half considering giving it to her when the partially open door slammed against the wall. Dil careened into the private office, his face red and dotted with sweat. “Jay, I've got a cake."
Laine flopped back against the chair. “Dil, I love you."
Oh sure. Dil brought her a cake and she was in love. The guy always came through.
"Fine, fine. Dil, we owe you. Laine, go deliver your cake news."
She was up and dancing out the door in a flash.
Jason glanced over at Dil with a smirk. “This one's gonna cost me isn't it?"
Dil's grin said it all.
Laine paused outside of the suite. Within, she could hear the hum of the bridal party in full consolation mode. Good luck to them, she thought, at the high-pitched lash of the bride's temper. Great.
Bridezillas like Melinda Langdon were not the reason Laine got into the nuptials business. Not that it mattered. Blissful Brides was contracted to do a job, and every bride deserved a perfect day. So regardless of Melinda's extreme nasty factor, Laine was determined to give her the wedding she always dreamed of.
Pushing through the door, she had the sense of entering a world of snarky, back-biting, silver-wrapped Hershey's kisses. The bridal party, shimmering in matching metallic gowns, bustled around, whispering insincerities and unfriendly speculations, while the bride-to-be sniffed loudly against the something borrowed heirloom lace hanky her mother had loaned her.
Laine planted a near-maniacal smile on her face and broke through the crowd. She would read as happy and confident. It was damage control time. Cutting through the swarm of formal wear, Laine widened her eyes and,
at risk of severe cheek cramp, beamed an exaggerated smile.
