Ally Blake - Blind Dates and Other Disasters - The Wedding Wish

‘And with your sister’s impending marriage, I bet she’s happy.’

‘She is.’ For a brief second he let down his guard and Holly saw the genuine affection he held for his sister. His face glowed with it. And it was lethally charming.

Now that was a definite chink in her theory. This guy was meant to have no attachments. He could be devoted to his business. Or even passionate about his car. But he was not meant to radiate such tenderness when talking of another person.

Hang on. The theory could still hold true; she would just have to make another slight modification. Blood relatives were an exception to the ‘no attachments’ rule. That seemed only fair.

‘And the company?’ she continued. ‘Were your employees pleased to see you? Though it does mean they will have to start actually working, stop the three-hour lunches, and fire the in-house masseuse that Ben always raves about.’

‘Are you kidding? That’s the main reason I’m back.’ He touched his hand to the back of his neck. ‘I’ve had this dull ache in my third vertebra.’

‘Sure you have.’

Feeling cosy and safe in the conversation, she could not stop herself from asking the question that had been foremost in her mind for the last few days.

‘So are you here to stay?’

The sparkle left Jacob’s eyes as he considered her for a long, agonising moment. Her heart seemed to stop beating as she awaited the answer.

‘For now.’

She nodded, though her inappropriate angst had not been assuaged one little bit.

As though sensing the sudden weight of the subject at hand, Jacob turned the conversation to more ordinary issues. They talked about the gallery, and surprisingly Jacob knew a lot about the resident artist. He even had one of ‘the superb St John’s ace lithographs’ in his apartment.

Her feet lightly aching, Holly once more ran a massaging palm over the arch of her foot.

‘Long day?’ Jacob asked.

‘Long week.’

‘Too many nights out, I think.’

She stopped rubbing and sat up, slowly, not looking his way. ‘And I’d have to agree with you.’ ‘Maybe you should cut back?’ ‘Maybe I should.’

Holly’s pulse was racing. The swirl of meaning behind their innocuous conversation reverberated in the air around them. Was he asking her not to see other men? Was she agreeing? Was she mad?

‘What if …?’ Jacob said, his voice trailing off.

What if, what? Holly thought, her nerves screaming in anticipation. She felt like a bell still resonating long after it had been struck.

‘Dinner. Tomorrow night. Just you and me.’ Jacob turned on his seat, his left hand coming down to rest upon hers. ‘No strings. Just dinner.’

His little finger was stroking, playing, tantalising, sending hot, jolting shivers from her sensitive fingertips up her bare arms, melting the length of her suddenly rigid body. And then he smiled. Strength, Holly. A smile is teeth and lips and muscles. Nothing more.

‘I won’t demand any feet-washing at the end of the night. Unless of course you feel the urge …’

She pulled her hand away. She wanted strings. That was the whole point. Holly stood up behind the bar stool, putting herself a safe distance from his potent magnetism.

‘It’s never just dinner, Jacob. And neither should it be.’

‘But—’

‘But, you know my long-term plans. I want a husband. And you can’t even tell me if you’re still going to be in the country in a week, so I’m guessing marriage is not an option in your foreseeable future.’

All colour drained from Jacob’s face and there was her answer. So he loves his sister, so he supports charities, so he has a smile that liquefies all common sense. He is and always will be the indisputable anti-husband. There never was a safer bet.

‘I didn’t think so. So there’s really no point in having dinner, is there?’

For the sake of her own disobedient feelings she simply had to hit the point home as far as she could. So she lied. ‘Besides which, you’re simply not my type.’

Jacob blinked, his luscious eyelashes sweeping across his beautiful chiselled cheeks. ‘And those other poor saps during the week. Did they have the same advance warning I did?’

Holly shrank back from the bitterness in Jacob’s tone and she knew she was doing the right thing, cutting off all further contact before it was too late. Before he made such a deep impression on her she could not simply theorise it away.

‘Goodbye, Jacob.’

Holly walked away, feeling Jacob’s slighted stare burning into her as she crossed the room. She latched onto the owner of the gallery and he kept her sequestered in his bawdy, noisy group until long after Jacob had grabbed his coat and left.

MONDAY morning Holly’s intercom buzzed.

‘Call on line three, Ms Denison.’ The receptionist’s fuzzy voice came through the speakerphone on her desk.

Holly looked apologetically at Lydia, who was standing on a chair in the middle of her office, her outstretched arms draped in several large swatches of fabric. ‘Do you mind hanging in there for a minute? I’ll be quick.’

Lydia strained dramatically under the weight. ‘Get it, Holly, I’m just fine up here.’

Holly grabbed the phone and swung back in her springy leather chair. ‘Holly Denison.’

‘Holly. It’s Jacob.’

Holly shot forward on her chair, her feet now both firmly planted on the ground. He needn’t have introduced himself. That rich, masculine voice with its gentle American twang set her nerves on edge from its very first syllable.

Lydia raised her eyebrows and mouthed, ‘Who is it?’

Holly shook her head, before pressing the phone firmly to her ear. After Friday night Holly had spent a restless weekend convincing herself turning him down was for the best.

But three little words were enough to have her doubting herself again. And if he was calling to ask her to dinner again, she did not know if she would have the strength to refuse.

‘Yes, Jacob?’

‘I have a party to organise and I want to employ your professional services for the event.’

She scribbled, Lincoln Holdings—party onto her notepad.

Lydia could see the notebook clearly from her elevated position and her jaw dropped. Holly waved a frantic hand at her mouthing for her to dump the fabric swatches over the back of the chair and disappear.

Lydia mouthed, ‘Good luck,’ before she tiptoed out.

So he had not called to renew his dinner offer. Holly was glad he was not there in person to see her blush. He had obviously taken her at her word on that count. But that was what she wanted. Wasn’t it?

Then it hit her what he had requested. Jacob Lincoln was offering Cloud Nine a gig. But she knew his idea of a party was very different from her own. She shuddered at the thought of having to search the local bars and pubs for a venue and putting up posters advertising a wet T-shirt contest with a free keg of beer being the first prize.

‘I am flattered that you thought of Cloud Nine for the event, Jacob, but I’m not sure we provide the sort of parties that would suit your tastes.’

Jacob surprised Holly by laughing loudly on the other end of the line. ‘Relax, Holly. I’m not after nude mud wrestlers. Besides, this is not for the company. It’s a private affair. My sister Ana wants an engagement party. Something much more along the lines of what you created for the big marquee would be appropriate.’

This sounded much more up her professional alley but Holly knew that the theme of the party was not what was really worrying her.

‘Well, I am extremely busy at the moment but I could pass you on to another of our wonderful event managers who specializes in exactly these sort of—’