Her Client from Hell Read Free Page A

sugar
and something distinctly soft and pretty, which he dutifully followed, trying
not to watch the sway of her hips as she walked. Her backside looked just about
the perfect size for his hands—jeez, he swallowed. Hard. What the hell was wrong
with him?
    With her? No caution or stop button. She was at warp speed. And
now he was caught up in her chaos too.
    So much for the five-minute plan. He blinked as he entered a
small courtyard. Ivy, intertwined with scarlet flowers, curled over the walls,
white gravel covered the ground. Small iron tables dressed with lit tea light
candles dotted the space. It was like a secret garden from a movie he’d seen as
a kid. Back when he’d believed in fairy tales like family and happy ever after.
‘This is impressive.’
    ‘Glad you like it. I wasn’t sure if you’d think it was
too... out there .’ She raised her fingers and did
quotation marks with them to emphasise her words, and he caught a teasing
twinkle in her smile.
    Then her eyes met his—darkest blue and wide and honest—and she
seemed, for a moment, a little startled, but she didn’t turn away. His heart
thumped in his chest as he was drawn into that gaze, sucked deep and then
deeper, and deeper still, as if he was tumbling somehow, like Alice down the
rabbit hole.
    A blush hit her cheeks again and she shook her head, breaking a
tentative connection that left him feeling a little unnerved.
    Opening her satchel, she pulled out a thick creamy notepad and
folder of papers. ‘Okay. Right. Let’s get started. We have a lot to get
through.’ As she opened the folder a gust of wind caught the top sheets and sent
them spiralling into the air. ‘Oh, wait... Sorry. Oh, no, I can’t believe this
is happening. I’m sorry.’
    Next, she was on her feet chasing the papers, stamping on a few
to stop them floating away like confetti on the gentle breeze, more tendrils of
her hair falling from the chopsticks.
    He watched for a moment until it became clear he either helped
or he’d be sitting here all night waiting for her to switch to simmer.
    ‘Here you go.’ He handed her the papers and she placed them
back on the table and weighted them down with a large bowl of delicious-looking
silky stuffed olives.
    Popping one in her mouth, she bit down and smiled. ‘Not just
delicious, but useful too. Thanks. So not my day.’ Finally she sat, took a long
deep breath and slowed to a mode Jack could follow. She smiled again. She had a
lot of them—endless smiles. Polite smiles. Embarrassed but intriguing smiles.
Smiles that didn’t quite hit her eyes. He got the impression she was trying very
hard to be professional and thought that smiling would be the way to go.
    But endless cheerfulness wouldn’t convince him she’d be any
good at helping him—and he needed help right now. Reliable. Organised.
Straightforward help. ‘Er...the wedding? Are we going to cover that
tonight?’
    ‘The wedding. Okay. Yes.’ She leaned forward and there was the
scent of vanilla sugar again. Sweet and soft. ‘So, talk me through the day,
Jack. Can I call you Jack? What’s planned? What do you need?’
    Hell if he knew. Now she’d actually focused, he suddenly felt
way out of his depth. This was a stupid idea. He should have asked first instead
of interfering... as Cassie had so succinctly
described honest and well-meaning sibling interest.
    He spoke slowly to give himself time to think and to engage her
full attention. ‘As I said, it’s in three weeks’ time. I’m not a hundred per
cent sure of exact timings so I’ll get back to you on that. The wedding ceremony
is going to be in a community art space off Portobello Road. It’s a small
gathering of friends; there’s an Irish band booked in the evening. The details
are being finalised.’
    She tucked one of the errant curls behind her ear. ‘It’s very
short notice but, luckily, I do have space in my calendar. Tell me, though,
you’ve waited until now to sort out the food