After Hours.... Christy McKellen

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СКАЧАТЬ and making her seem taller and—something else. More mature, perhaps? More sophisticated?

      Whatever it was, she looked completely and utterly beautiful.

      Realising he was standing there gawping at her like some crass teenage boy, he cleared his suddenly dry throat and dredged up a smile which he hoped didn’t look as lascivious as it felt.

      ‘Hey, you look like you’re dressed for a wedding,’ he said, cringing inside at how pathetic that sounded.

      She smiled. ‘And you don’t. I hope you’re not thinking of going like that because I’m pretty sure it didn’t say “sports casual” on the invitation.’ Her amused gaze raked up and down his body, her eyebrows rising at the sight of his sweat-soaked running gear.

      He returned her grin, finding it strangely difficult to keep it natural-looking. His whole face felt as if he’d had his head stuck in the freezer. What was wrong with him? A bit of sunshine and a fancy dress and his mind was in a spin.

      ‘I’d better go and take a shower; otherwise we’re going to be late,’ he said, already walking towards the door.

      ‘Could you do me a favour before you go?’ she asked, colour rising in her cheeks.

      ‘Er...sure. As long as it’s not going to cost me anything,’ he joked, coming to a stop in front of her. In her heels she was nearly as tall as him, making it easier to directly meet her gaze. She had such amazing eyes: bright and clear with vitality and intellect. The make-up and hair made him think of Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

      ‘Could you do up the buttons on the back of my dress?’ she asked, her voice sounding unusually breathy, as if it had taken a lot for her to ask for his help.

      ‘Sure,’ he said, waiting for her to turn around and present her back to him. His breath caught as he took in the long, elegant line of her spine as it disappeared into the base of her dress. There were three buttons that held the top half of it together, with a large piece cut out at the bottom, which would leave her creamy skin and the gentle swells of muscle at the base of her back exposed.

      Heaven help him.

      Hands feeling as if they’d been trapped in the freezer, too, he fiddled around with the buttons, feeling the warmth of her skin heat the tips of his fingers. Hot barbs of awareness tracked along his nerves and embedded themselves deep in his body and his breath came out in short ragged gasps, which he’d like to think was an after-effect of the hard exercise, but was more likely to be down to his close proximity to a woman’s body, after his had been starved of attention for the past year and a half.

      ‘There you go,’ he said, snapping the final button into its hole with a sigh of relief. ‘I’ll be back down in fifteen.’

      And with that he made his escape.

      * * *

      Wow. This felt weird, being at Jack’s wedding—a friend she thought she’d never see again—with Max—her recalcitrant boss—as her escort. The whole world seemed to have flipped on its head. If someone had told her a week ago that this was going to happen she would have given them a polite smile whilst slowly backing away.

      But here she was, swaying unsteadily in the only pair of high heels she owned, with Max at her side. The man who could give Hollywood’s top leading men a run for their money in the charisma department.

      There had been a moment in the kitchen, after he’d turned around and noticed her, when she thought she’d seen something in his eyes. Something that had never been there before. Something like desire.

      And then when he’d helped her with her dress it had felt as though the air had crackled and jumped between them. The bloom of his breath on her neck had made her knees weak and her heart race. She could have sworn his voice had held a rougher undertone than she was used to hearing as he excused himself.

      But she knew she was kidding herself if she thought she should read more than friendly interest into his actions.

      They had Radio Four on for the entire journey up to Leicestershire, listening in rapt silence to a segment on finance, then chuckling along to a radio play. Cara was surprised by how easy it was to sit beside Max and how relaxed and drawn into their shared enjoyment of the programme she was. So much so, that it was to her great surprise that they pulled into the small car park of the church where the wedding was taking place, seemingly only a short time after leaving London.

      The sunshine that had poured in through her bedroom window that morning had decided to stick around for the rest of the day, disposing of the insubstantial candyfloss clouds of the morning to reveal the most intensely blue sky she’d ever seen.

      All around her, newly blooming spring flowers bopped their heads in time to the rhythm of the light spring breeze, their gaudy colours a striking counterpoint to the verdant green of the lawns surrounding them.

      Taking a deep breath, she drew the sweet, fresh air deep into her lungs. This should mark a new beginning in her life, she decided. The start of the next chapter, where the foundations she’d laid in the past few weeks would hopefully prove strong enough to support her from this point onwards.

      ‘It’s nearly twelve o’clock; we should go in,’ Max said with regret in his voice as he cast his gaze around their beautiful surroundings.

      Attempting to keep her eyes up and off the tantalising view of his rear in the well-cut designer suit he’d chosen to wear today, she tripped into the church after him, shivering slightly at the change in temperature as they walked out of the sunshine and into the nave.

      Most of the pews were already full, so they hung back for a moment to be directed to a seat by one of the ushers.

      And that was when the day took a definite turn for the worse.

      Her world seemed to spin on its axis, rolling her stomach along with it, as her former and current life lined up on a collision course. One of the PAs who had belonged to the Cobra Clique was standing down by the altar, her long blond hair slithering down her back as she threw her head back and laughed at something that the man standing next to her said.

      Taking a deep breath, Cara willed herself not to panic, but her distress must have shown plainly on her face because Max turned to glance in the direction she was staring and said, ‘Cara? What’s wrong?’

      ‘Ah...nothing.’ She flapped a dismissive hand at him, feeling her cheeks flame with heat, and took a step backwards, hoping the stone pillar would shield her. But serendipity refused to smile as the woman turned towards them, catching her eye, her pupils flaring in recognition and her gaze moving, as if in slow motion, from Cara to Max and back again. And the look on her face plainly said she wasn’t going to miss this golden opportunity to make more trouble for her.

      Looking around her wildly, Cara’s heart sank as she realised there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

      It was usually at this point in a film that the leading lady would pull the guy she was with towards her and kiss him hard to distract him from the oncoming danger, but she knew, as she stared with regret at Max’s full, inviting mouth, that there was no way she could do that. He’d probably choke in shock, then fire her on the spot if she even attempted it. It wouldn’t just put her job in jeopardy—it would blow it to smithereens.

      There was only one thing left to do.

      ‘Max, СКАЧАТЬ