Lynne Marshall - Wedding Bell Wishes - It Started at a Wedding... / The Wedding Planner and the CEO / Her Perfect Proposal

‘That’s not how it usually is, for me,’ she admitted.

Not being taken for granted? He brushed his mouth very gently against hers. ‘That’s because you’ve been dating the wrong men, thinking they’re Mr Right.’

‘I always thought you’d be Mr Wrong,’ she admitted.

‘And I always thought you’d be Ms Wrong,’ he said. ‘But maybe we should give each other a little more of a chance.’

‘Maybe,’ she said softly. ‘But next time—I think I’m going to be prepared.’

‘You and me, both.’ He nuzzled the curve of her neck. ‘Careful, Claire. You might turn into a bit of an über -planner if you keep this up.’

As he’d hoped, she laughed. ‘And you might start going with the flow without having to be reminded.’

He laughed back. ‘I think we need to move. While we still both have some self-control.’

‘Good plan.’ But when she climbed off him, he didn’t let her move away and sit in a different chair. He kept hold of her hand and drew her down beside him.

‘This works for me,’ he said. ‘Just simply holding hands with you.’

For a moment, she went all dreamy-eyed. ‘Like teenagers.’

‘What?’

She shook her head. ‘Ah, no. I’m not confessing that right now.’

Confessing what? He was intrigued. ‘I could,’ he suggested sweetly, ‘ make you confess. Remember, I’m armed with seriously good chocolate.’

She drew his hand up to her mouth and kissed each knuckle in turn. ‘But I also happen to know you’re a gentleman. So you won’t push me right now.’

So even when she hadn’t liked him, she’d recognised that he had integrity and standards and knew that she was safe with him? That warmed him from the inside out. ‘I won’t push you right now,’ he agreed. He handed her the box. ‘Help yourself.’

‘Salted caramel in dark chocolate. Fabulous. Are they all like that?’

‘No. There’s a Seville orange version and an espresso.’

‘Nice choices. And you said earlier they were samples.’ She looked thoughtful. ‘So are you experimenting with new lines?’

‘Possibly.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Sean, I’m hardly going to rush straight off to one of your competitors and sell them the information.’

‘Of course you’re not.’ He frowned. ‘Do you think I’m that suspicious?’

‘You sounded it,’ she pointed out.

‘It’s an experiment, moving into a slightly different form of toffee,’ he said, ‘but I need to put them through some focus groups first and see what my market thinks.’

‘Ah, research. Looking at growing your market share.’ She smiled. ‘So either you sell the same product to more people, or you sell more products to the same people.’

At his raised eyebrow, she sighed. ‘I’m not a total dimwit, you know. I’ve had my own business for three years.’

‘I know, and it’s not just that. Ashleigh told me you turned down an unconditional offer from Cambridge for medicine, and I know you wouldn’t get that sort of offer if you weren’t really bright.’ He looked at her. ‘I always wondered why you became a wedding dress designer instead of a doctor.’

She looked sad. ‘It’s a long story, and I don’t really want to tell it tonight.’

Because she didn’t trust him not to judge her? ‘Fair enough,’ he said coolly.

‘I wasn’t pushing you away, Sean,’ she said. ‘I just don’t want to talk about it right now.’

‘So what do you want, Claire?’ He couldn’t resist the question.

‘Right now? I want you to kiss me again. But we’ve both agreed that’s, um, possibly not a good idea.’

‘Because I’m not prepared, and neither are you. So we’ll take a rain check,’ he said.

‘How long?’ She slapped a hand to her forehead. ‘No. I didn’t ask that and you didn’t hear me.’

‘Right. And I wasn’t thinking it, either,’ he retorted. ‘When?’

‘Wednesday?’

Giving them two days to come to their common sense. ‘Wednesday,’ he agreed. ‘I would offer to cook for you, except you’d get a sandwich at best.’

She laughed. ‘I can live with sandwiches.’

‘No, I mean a proper date.’

‘Planned to the nth degree, Sean-style?’ she asked.

Why did planning things rattle her so much? In answer, he kissed her. Hard. And she was breathless by the time she’d finished.

‘That was cheating,’ she protested.

‘Yeah, yeah.’ He rubbed the pad of his thumb along her lower lip. ‘And?’

‘Go home, Sean, before we do something stupid.’

‘Rain check,’ he said. ‘Wednesday night. I’ll pick you up at seven.’ He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, ‘And, by the time I’ve finished with you, you won’t remember what your name is or where you are.’

Her voice was gratifyingly husky when she said, ‘That had better be a promise.’

‘It is.’ He stole one last kiss. ‘And I always keep my promises. Which reminds me—I have washing-up duties.’

‘I’ll let you off,’ she said.

‘The deal was, you’d cook and I’d wash up.’

‘Do you really think it’s a good idea for us to be that close to each other, in the presence of water, and while neither of us is, um, prepared?’

He didn’t quite get the reference to water, but he agreed with the rest of it. ‘Good point. Rain check on the washing up, then, too?’

She laughed. ‘No need. I have a dishwasher. It’s horribly indulgent, given that I live on my own, but it’s nice when I have friends over for dinner.’ She paused, and added in a softer, sexier, deeper tone, ‘Or my lover.’

Which sounded as if she was going to invite him back.

And that set his pulse thrumming.

‘Right.’ He couldn’t resist one last kiss, one that sent his head spinning and left her looking equally dazed. ‘Enjoy the chocolate,’ he said. And then he left, while he was still capable of being sensible.

CHAPTER EIGHT

SEAN SENT CLAIRE a text later that evening.

Sweet dreams.

Yes, she thought, because they’d be of him. She typed back, You, too x.

He’d turned out to be unexpectedly sweet, so different from how he’d always been in the past. He was still a little regimented, but there was huge potential for him to be...

She stopped herself. No. This time she wasn’t going to make the same old mistake. She wasn’t going into this relationship thinking that Sean might be The One, that there would definitely be a happy-ever-after. OK, so he wasn’t like the men she usually dated; but that didn’t guarantee a different outcome for this relationship, either.

And this was early days. Sean had a reputation for not dating women for very long; the chances were, this would all be over in another month. Claire knew that she needed to minimise the potential damage to her heart and make sure that her best friend didn’t get caught in any crossfire. Which meant keeping just a little bit of distance between them.

Even though Claire tried to tell herself to be sensible, she still found herself anticipating Wednesday. Wondering if he’d kiss her again. Wondering if they’d end up at his place or hers. Wondering if this whole thing blew his mind as much as it did hers.

Wednesday turned out to be madly busy, and Claire spent a long time on the phone with one of her suppliers, sorting out a mistake they’d made in delivering the wrong fabric—and it was going to cost her time she didn’t have. A last-minute panic from one of her brides took up another hour; and, before she realised it, the time was half past six.

Oh, no. She still needed to shower, wash her hair, change and do her make-up before Sean arrived. She called him, hoping to beg an extra half an hour, but his line was busy. Swiftly, she tapped in a text as she went up the stairs to her flat.