Taste of Temptation (2 page)

The voice across the line was tight. “I'll keep looking."

"Whatever it takes, just get it over here.” Disconnecting, he planted both hands on his desk and looked up at Laine as she leaned against the doorframe to his office, rubbing one delicate foot while he struggled to make good on his promise.

She cocked her head to the side, a cascade of shiny chestnut hair falling over her shoulders. “Well, that certainly is a romantic way to look at it."

"Save the indignation. You and I both know I'm right.” He didn't like the sound of his voice. He was thinking about that guy, Max. The way his lips grazed her cheek. The echo of their words.

"Think about it..."

"I will..."

"How about your groom today? I saw you dodge the elevator ride with him, but the wedding's still on, so I'm assuming this one didn't try any games of grab-ass in the kitchen.” The words were out of his mouth before he'd found enough sense to stop them.

Shit. He was being a prick because he was jealous. Bringing up the almost-wedding from three weeks ago, where the groom had gotten grabby with Laine, was a blow below the belt. Something totally out of line that he knew would upset her.

If he could kick his own ass he would.

"Oh, right. You saw that. So nice of you, by the way, to intervene on my behalf. That dickhead had me pinned against the room-service cart."

Jason's jaw clenched at the memory. He'd walked around the corner an instant before Laine's knee rocketed through the hip-high split in her gown and into the groom's thigh. The man had gone down into a writhing ball, clutching his leg and screaming in pain. Laine wasn't in any danger, but she'd been livid. And Jason hadn't trusted himself to approach them.

The possessive rage that overcame him in that split second had every cell in his body calling for blood. The groom got off lucky with the girly dead-leg assault. Another second of unwelcome contact and Jason would have been on him ... and the damage he'd have inflicted wouldn't have left the bastard able hobble out of the hotel.

When the staff had rushed to her aid, Jason backed away, trying to get past the veil of red that blinded him to the idea of anything but punishment.

"By the time I came in, it was done.” Talk about a limp apology.

He'd been a jackass to bring it up. But now that he had, there was something he'd been wondering about. Trying to get back to a cavalier tone, he went fishing. “The bride's mother walking in then was perfect timing. Took the pressure off you to do anything about it."

Laine fixed him with a hard stare, but he couldn't stop.

"Connie has a strict policy of one freebie for grab-ass grooms, but this guy was serious. Would you have told the bride if her mother hadn't been there?"

Laine rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. “Connie almost fired me for not heading the mother off, but I wasn't even going to try. I'm glad that girl found out what he was capable of, and on their wedding day no less. He deserved to lose her.” Her expression lost the fight she normally flaunted, and his chest tightened. “Besides, he was rough."

His fists balled at his side as he dragged the breath in through his nose. She'd been scared. She'd been scared, and three weeks later was still upset, yet he'd walked away, afraid that he would kill the man who'd threatened her. He should have. “I'm sorry, Laine."

She hadn't exactly said that she would have told the bride, but it was close enough. Laine would have done the right thing if it had been left to her. He could see in her eyes that she knew Connie was wrong in her policies.

Hell, he knew her. He shouldn't have even had to ask.

"Don't be sorry.” Her pouty mouth twisted up to the side, and the unflappable façade returned with a dismissive humph. She didn't like to look vulnerable. She rarely let him see what she was really thinking for more than a moment at a time, but when her guard was down ... he lost all resolve to stay unattached and indifferent. When Laine showed the woman beneath the flawless veneer, he wanted nothing more than to gather her into his arms and never let her go. When her guard returned, flying up to fend off his probing questions, and she offered him her most adversarial stare, he wanted nothing more than to get her underneath him, penetrate that false shell and touch the parts of her she couldn't disguise. Either way, she had more control over him than he liked any woman to have.

"It was a lesson in prevention,” she continued, shaking her head. “I need to be more aggressive about keeping potential problem grooms reined in. No opportunities on my watch. Day-of cancellations kill reputations, and Connie can't have that."

Jason curled his lip. “Wow, Laine, you really are full-service. Peddling that kind of romance every weekend, it's no wonder you've got a waitlist of brides clamoring after you."

Laine's glare shot to him. “Bite me, Jason."

He took one step toward her and dropped his voice. “If that's how you like it, give me the chance and I will."

The blush that flooded her face was as priceless as the stunned flutter of her eyelids and her sharp intake of breath. Heat and anticipation sparked in the space between them, the weighted pause sending blood rushing to his cock. Christ, she almost looked like she was considering his offer.

Laine looked away first, giving him the closest thing to a win over her he'd ever had. When she turned back it was all business. “Have you tried Dolce for a cake yet?"

The question took him by surprise, but he should have seen it coming. She was playing hardball.

His mouth pinched into a tight line. “No. But be my guest. The phone's right here."

Laine slipped her foot back into her heel and lazed across the carpet, taking a seat in the open club chair closest to the phone. She leaned forward, and for one split second, Jason thought he was going to be rewarded with the sight of her perfect breasts popping free from the top of her dress. He waited as she stretched, twisting, until the full swell was nearly exposed, and his mouth watered for that last little bit of flesh, the cherry tip. God, he wanted her.

He was hot, his cock erect within his pants, his chest feeling like he'd been rock climbing instead of lounging in his office, trying to find a cake to appease this sexy little wedding imp.

Back in control, the tension she'd shown was gone. With one hand, her fingers danced over the number pad, while the other twirled the phone cord. Her hands were long and thin, elegant. She never seemed at a loss for what to do with them, and Jason couldn't stop wondering how they would feel on him.

"Dolce? Hi, Laine Malone from Blissful Brides ... I have an emergency. Is there anything you can do to get me a cake for three hours from now—?” She yanked the phone away from her ear as the clerk on the other end bellowed at her request.

Jason let out a short laugh as he watched her, wondering how much she knew about the Henley rift with Dolce. Couldn't be much, or she would have thrown it in his face before this. Tried to use it for leverage in negotiations to get some bride's most ridiculous fantasy met.

She stared back at him with narrowed eyes and, when the bellowing ceased, pulled the phone back to her ear. “I'm at the Henley Hotel here and ... Hello?” She looked at the earpiece on the phone with shock, as though she thought it might explain why someone would have hung up on her.

Ha. Apparently she didn't know enough to keep her mouth shut about the location of the wedding. Her only shot would have been to offer to pick the cake up, or meet it at the intersection two blocks down. So much for Dolce. “No dice, eh?"

Watching her incredulous expression, he wanted to laugh but tried to rein it in.

"He hung up on me.” She licked her lips and slowly settled the receiver back into its cradle. “I know rude. I deal with it on a daily basis. But that was exceptional."

"They don't do business that involves the hotel."

"So it would seem,” she said, eyeing him carefully.

He cleared his throat and shrugged, then, keeping his tone matter-of-fact, offered a half-hearted explanation. “Dispute over a wedding a few years back."

"That must have been some dispute."

She wanted more information, and he was half considering giving it to her when the partially open door slammed against the wall. Dil careened into the private office, his face red and dotted with sweat. “Jay, I've got a cake."

Laine flopped back against the chair. “Dil, I love you."

Oh sure. Dil brought her a cake and she was in love. The guy always came through.

"Fine, fine. Dil, we owe you. Laine, go deliver your cake news."

She was up and dancing out the door in a flash.

Jason glanced over at Dil with a smirk. “This one's gonna cost me isn't it?"

Dil's grin said it all.

Laine paused outside of the suite. Within, she could hear the hum of the bridal party in full consolation mode. Good luck to them, she thought, at the high-pitched lash of the bride's temper. Great.

Bridezillas like Melinda Langdon were not the reason Laine got into the nuptials business. Not that it mattered. Blissful Brides was contracted to do a job, and every bride deserved a perfect day. So regardless of Melinda's extreme nasty factor, Laine was determined to give her the wedding she always dreamed of.

Pushing through the door, she had the sense of entering a world of snarky, back-biting, silver-wrapped Hershey's kisses. The bridal party, shimmering in matching metallic gowns, bustled around, whispering insincerities and unfriendly speculations, while the bride-to-be sniffed loudly against the
something borrowed
heirloom lace hanky her mother had loaned her.

Laine planted a near-maniacal smile on her face and broke through the crowd. She would read as happy and confident. It was damage control time. Cutting through the swarm of formal wear, Laine widened her eyes and, at risk of severe cheek cramp, beamed an exaggerated smile.

"Mel, the most incredible news. Jason Henley, the owner of the hotel, is having a fabulous new cake brought in just for you. I honestly can't believe it. He's never done anything like this for a bride before, but he's gotten his favorite bakery to make something special ... just for you!” The giddy squeal at the end was as key to the sell as the mandatory just-for-you business, so she put everything she had into it before letting her delighted expression fall into faux concern. “Oh, my God, Mel—” they were like sisters now, “—has something happened?"

Melinda's shellacked lower lip stuck out like a roost for a small bird. “My ... my special day ... it's ruined,” she screeched, burying her face against Laine's bare shoulder, leaving a cold, wet trail of what, God willing, was tears and tears alone. Melinda's words choked off into unintelligible sobs, and suddenly she was just a girl with a lifelong dream on the verge of falling apart.

Laine's mind stopped running in business mode, and her body softened as Melinda quaked against her. Smoothing back the bride's neat curls so they wouldn't be crushed between them, Laine shushed out a long breath. “Come on now,” she soothed. “Hey, it's all going to be fine. We've got the cake taken care of. But some silly cake isn't what's going to make this day special for you. It's the beginning of your happily ever after. You and Ed are going to be man and wife. This is just one big party to celebrate ... love. It can't be ruined."

Melinda sniffed loudly. Her body settled. Her small voice sounded stronger as she spoke over Laine's shoulder. “But ... this is
my special day.
What will my wedding be without
my
cake?"

Of course. So much for that. “Okay, honey. The cake will be here and better than ever.” She ticked off her mental to-do list: Dry clean hanky for mother of bride, makeup artist ASAP, order cucumbers for the bags, make sure the bar watered down the groom's drinks, ream florist for the thorn in the bouquet, ream Jason for ... the hell of it. The last thought made her smile. She'd keep a reaming slot open for him—something was bound to come up. She couldn't believe he'd asked her to dinner.

Melinda pulled back, her lips all puffy.

"Oh, stop it this minute, Mel.” Laine pushed Jason from her mind and put on her best grandmother voice. “Nothing is ruined except this makeup, and there's no law against the beautiful bride getting a touchup. Now give me a smile."

Behind them the suite door opened to a chorus of oohs and ahhs. Laine spun around to see Jason smiling at the bridal attendants as though each were the vision they dreamed of being. A natural charmer. Finally, his gaze settled on Melinda, his eyes showing nothing but approval. The man had a game face all right. Pushing through the crowd, he walked up to the splotchy bride and dropped a chaste kiss on her cheek. “Beautiful."

Jason popped the cork on a bottle of champagne and toasted Melinda. He was an operator, but he'd added to the calm of Bridezilla, so she was on his side.

At the risk of looking like she had a tic, Laine offered up another wink. “I'm going to go check on some details. You girls enjoy a glass of champagne, and we'll have everyone ready to walk down the aisle with time to spare.” She had a cake to confirm, a groom to check up on and crystallizing snot to chisel off her shoulder, so she needed to move.

Jason turned to her and offered up a phony smile to top all others. “Ms. Malone, I'll accompany you out. Enjoy the preparations, ladies."