Melissa Mcclone - SOS Marry Me!

“Waiting for someone to come through can be hard.”

“Sometimes.”

But he wouldn’t mind waiting right there. He didn’t have to want to spend the rest of his life with her to enjoy the view. What man with blood running through his veins wouldn’t want to look? Her brown and blue dress clung in all the right places. The hem fell above the knee, and her high heels made her legs look long and sexy. She defined “it” girl.

He didn’t know whether to envy that Rupert fellow or pity him. Serena James was the type who knew how to make a guy roll over and beg. And Kane didn’t sit, stay or play dead for any woman, no matter how hot she looked in heels.

“I do appreciate your bringing this over.” She walked toward a linen-covered table with one of the elaborate floral arrangements she’d brought with her in the center. Candles in silver holders sat on either side. She tossed a smile his way. “Thank you.”

Her gratitude sounded genuine. Kane couldn’t tell whether she was sincere or not, but he was willing to play nice. “You’re welcome.”

The gentle sway of her hips and the swirl of her dress hem around her legs captured his attention. The lingering scent of her light floral perfume filled his nostrils.

Serena opened the box. “Now all I have to do is set these things out and the table will be ready.”

The table already looked finished and fancy enough to him. A little too fancy, but probably what the monkey-suit, bouquet-tossing set expected. “What’s in there?”

“Chocolate.” As she unwrapped each item, she placed the pieces of candy on an oval beveled-edged mirror setting on the table: three chocolate truffles shaped like three-tiered wedding cakes, small gold and silver boxes tied with ribbon, oval and heart-shaped engraved chocolates packaged in a gold base and wrapped with tulle and a ribbon, gold and silver engraved foiled coins. “No wedding is complete without something chocolate.”

“I don’t care much for weddings, but I like chocolate.”

Her eyebrows rose at his not-so-subtle hint, but she tossed a coin his way.

He unwrapped the gold foil and took a bite. Good stuff. “Aren’t you having any?”

“I don’t sample the merchandise,” she said in her cool, controlled voice.

Yeah. Right. Probably one of those salad-and-rice-cake types who wouldn’t let herself eat a piece of candy. Too bad. She had a sweet little body, but he’d rather see a woman enjoy a meal with dessert than starve in order to fit into a smaller size.

She hid the box underneath the linen tablecloth–covered round table displaying a four-tiered white-iced wedding cake decorated with real flowers cascading down from the top like a colorful pink and white waterfall. “All done.”

He’d say so. Judging by this booth, The Wedding Belles was a high-class, high-end operation. From the neatly stacked full-color brochures to the maroon leather embossed photo albums, everything shouted “money.” Including Serena herself.

Kane leisurely finished his chocolate, surveying the booth. He noticed a stack of boxes. Board games, actually. Who would have thought to make a game out of getting married? Playing that sounded more like torture than fun.

A burgundy upholstered chaise longue sat at a right angle to a row of headless mannequins in white—the Wedding Shop of Horrors. “Looks like someone went furniture shopping last night.”

“We contracted with a rental store here in Seattle who delivered all this yesterday.”

“You must have worked all night.”

She pushed a strand of hair back from her face. “Just doing my job.”

“Don’t you design the wedding dresses?”

“Each of us helps out where we can,” she said. “That’s why working for The Wedding Belles is such fun.”

Fun? Serena never seemed to stop working. She moved through the booth adjusting swags of rich yellow fabric draped on the boring white panels separating each of the exhibit areas.

Didn’t she ever slow down or rest? Even sitting on the flight she’d been working on something. He didn’t know how she did it.

“Everything looks good,” he said.

“Good won’t cut it. Brides are the pickiest people on this planet, next to their mothers.” She straightened a stack of brochures. “Everything needs to be perfect.”

“Nothing’s ever perfect.”

“Then you’ve never attended a wedding put on by The Wedding Belles.” Kneeling, she realigned the hem of one of the wedding dresses. “Or worn one of my gowns.”

“No offense, but I don’t look my best in a train and heels.”

She smiled up at him.

He smiled back.

Now this was more like it.

“Do you need anything?” he asked. “Breakfast? Coffee?”

Me.

“Thanks, but I already ate and my coffee is stashed where I can get to it easily.” Standing, she peeked at her watch. “You might want to get going. The doors are going to—”

“Welcome to the Northwest Fall Bridal Extravaganza,” the voice over the loudspeaker announced.

“Uh-oh. You didn’t make it out in time. Watch out.” Serena smoothed the skirt of her dress. “We’re about to be overrun by the bridal brigade commanded by mothers and supported by best friends, sisters and cousins.”

Within seconds, chattering, laughter and even shrieks filled the large hall as if someone had turned off the mute switch on the remote. Packs of women ran past him.

“Where are they going?” he asked.

“The first fashion show.”

Had he agreed to model, all those women would have been running to him. Wonder what Blondie would say to that? A smile tugged on his lips.

Two young women walked up to her with questions about the cake on display.

The once empty aisles and booths were now crowded with women lugging ten-pound bags of bridal literature. Lots of women. Young ones, old ones…mostly young ones. Good-looking, too.

And engaged, Kane reminded himself. He didn’t do engaged women. Or even almost-engaged women, like Serena.

“Mom.” A twenty-something woman with chestnut hair wearing a green baby-doll style dress rushed into The Wedding Belles’ booth. “This is it. I have to have this dress.”

“We’ve been here two minutes and that’s the third dress you’ve said that about,” the mother said.

“Mo-om.”

Serena was speaking to two other women, but that didn’t stop the mother from interrupting the conversation.

“How much is this wedding gown?” the mother asked.

“I’m sorry, but that dress is not for sale,” Serena explained. “It will be worn at a wedding on November 22.”

The daughter’s collagen-injected, shimmery pink lips puckered like some kind of bizarre human-hybrid fish. Kane grinned to himself. Maybe this was the Northwest version of bridezilla.

“Could you make one like this for my daughter?” the mother asked, not-so-subtly showing off her designer purse and iceberg-sized diamond ring.

Despite the interruptions, Serena smiled pleasantly. “I can create something just as beautiful for her. With your daughter’s lovely figure, an asymmetrical A-line gown would be stunning. A cutaway skirt, even. And champagne embroidered lace would be a wonderful accent with her coloring.”

The bride tossed her artfully streaked hair. “We’d pay you extra for that dress on display.”

Kane would have told the mother to take her money and…Well, go someplace else.

“If you are interested in our gowns, we have a couple of samples here that can be sold off-the-rack.” Serena’s smile never wavered as she motioned to the photo albums on the table. “You might also want to make yourself comfortable and glance through the portfolio to get a taste of all our designs.”

“We might come back later.” The mother looked down her surgically designed pert nose. “Or not.”