Алисон Робертс – Wedding Bell Wishes: It Started at a Wedding... / The Wedding Planner and the CEO / Her Perfect Proposal (страница 21)
‘That’s why you called your business “Dream of a Dress”, then?’ he asked.
‘Half of the reason, yes.’
‘And the other half?’ he asked softly.
‘Because it’s my dream job,’ she said.
He looked surprised, as if he’d never thought of it that way before. ‘OK. But what if a bride wants a dress that you know wouldn’t suit her?’
‘You mean, like a fishtail dress when she’s short and curvy?’ At his nod, she said, ‘You find out what it is she loves about that particular dress, and see how you can adapt it to something that will work. And then you need tact by the bucketload.’
‘Tactful.’ He tipped his head on one side and looked at her. ‘But you always say what you think.’
‘I do. But you can do that in a nice way, without stomping on people.’
The corners of his mouth twitched. ‘I’ll remember that, the next time you don’t mince your words with me.’
She laughed back. ‘You’re getting a bit more bearable, so I might be nicer to you.’
He bowed his head slightly. ‘For the compliment.’ Then he took her hand and lifted it to his mouth, pressed a kiss into her palm, and folded her fingers round it.
It made her knees go weak. To cover the fact that he flustered her, she asked, ‘How was your day?’
‘Full of meetings.’
No wonder he found it hard to relax and go with the flow. He was used to a ridiculously tight schedule.
But at least he seemed to relax more once they were in the capsule and rising to see a late summer evening view of London. Claire was happy just to enjoy the view, with Sean’s arm wrapped round her.
‘I was thinking,’ he said softly. ‘I owe you pudding and coffee. I have good coffee back at my place.’
‘Would there be caramel hearts to go with it?’ she asked hopefully.
‘There might be,’ he said, the teasing light back in his eyes.
This sounded like a spontaneous offer rather than being planned, she thought. So maybe it could make up for the earlier part of the evening. ‘That sounds good,’ she said. ‘Coffee and good chocolate. Count me in.’
And, to her pleasure, he held her hand all the way back to his place. Now they weren’t on a schedule any more, he was less driven—and she liked this side of him a lot more.
The last time Claire had been to Sean’s house, she’d waited on the path outside while he picked up his luggage. This time, he invited her in. She discovered that his kitchen was very neat and tidy—as she’d expected—but it clearly wasn’t a cook’s kitchen. There were no herbs growing in pots, no ancient and well-used implements. She’d guess that the room wasn’t used much beyond making drinks.
His living room was decorated in neutral tones. Claire was pleased to see that there were lots of family photographs on the mantelpiece, but she noticed that the art on the walls was all quite moody.
‘It’s Whistler,’ he said, clearly realising what she was looking at. ‘His nocturnes—I like them.’
‘I would’ve pegged you as more of a Gainsborough man than a fan of tonalism,’ she said.
He looked surprised. ‘You know art movements?’
‘I did History of Art for GCSE,’ she said. ‘Then again, I guess those paintings are a lot like you. They’re understated and you really have to look to see what’s there.’
‘I’m not sure,’ he said, ‘if that was meant to be a compliment.’
‘It certainly wasn’t meant to be an insult,’ she said. ‘More a statement of fact.’
He poured them both a coffee, added sugar and a lot of milk to hers, and gestured to the little dish he’d brought on the tray. ‘Caramel hearts, as you said you liked them.’
‘I do.’ She smiled at him, appreciating the fact that he’d remembered and made the effort.
‘You can put on some music, if you like,’ he suggested, indicating his MP3 player.
She skimmed through it quickly and frowned. ‘Sean, I don’t mean to be horrible, but all your playlists are a bit—well...’
‘What?’ he asked, sounding puzzled.
‘They’re named for different types of workouts, so I’m guessing all the tracks in each list have the same number of beats per minute.’
‘Yes, but that’s sensible. It means everything’s arranged the way I want it for whatever exercise I’m doing.’
‘I get that,’ she said, ‘but don’t you enjoy music?’
He frowned. ‘Of course I do.’
‘I can’t see what you listen to for pleasure. To me this looks as if you only play set music at set times.’ Regimented again. And this time she couldn’t just let it go. ‘That works for business but, Sean, you can’t live your personal life as if it’s a business.’
‘Right,’ he said tightly.
So much for reaching an understanding. She sighed. ‘I’m not having a go at you. I’m just saying you’re missing out on so much and maybe there’s another way of doing things.’
‘Let’s agree to disagree, shall we?’
Sean had closed off on her again, Claire thought with an inward sigh—and now she could guess exactly why his girlfriends didn’t last for much longer than three weeks. He’d drive them crazy by stonewalling them as soon as they tried to get close to him, and then either he’d gently suggest that they should be just friends, or they’d give up trying to be close to him.
She also knew that telling him that would be the quickest way of ending things between them; and from the few glimpses she’d had she was pretty sure that, behind his walls, the real Sean Farrell was someone really worth getting to know.
‘OK, I’ll back off,’ she said. ‘But you have absolutely nothing slushy and relaxing on here.’
He coughed. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m male.’
She’d noticed, all right.
‘I don’t do slushy,’ he continued. ‘But...’ He took the MP3 player gently from her and flicked rapidly through the tracks.
When the music began playing, she recognised ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’, but it was a rock version of the song.
‘The band played this at Ashleigh’s wedding,’ he said, ‘and I found myself looking straight at you—that’s why I asked you to dance.’
‘And there was I thinking it was because it was traditional,’ she deadpanned.
‘No. I just wanted to dance with you.’
His honesty disarmed her. Just when he’d driven her crazy and she was thinking of calling the whole thing off, he did something like this that made her melt inside.
He drew her into his arms, and Claire was surprised to discover that, even though the song was fast, they could actually dance slowly to it.
‘And then, when I was dancing with you,’ he continued, ‘I wanted to kiss you.’
She found herself moistening her lower lip with her tongue. ‘Do you want to kiss me now, Sean?’
‘Yes.’ He held her gaze. ‘And I want to do an awful lot more than just kiss you.’
Excitement thrummed through her, but she tried to play it cool. ‘Could you be more specific?’
‘I want to take that dress off,’ he said, ‘lovely as it is. And I want to kiss every inch of skin I uncover.’
‘That sounds like a good plan,’ she said. ‘So what do I do?’
He smiled. ‘I’m surprised you don’t already know that one. Isn’t it what you’re always saying? Be spontaneous. Follow your heart. Go with the flow.’
‘So that means,’ she said, ‘I get to take that prissy suit off you?’
‘Prissy?’ he queried. ‘My suit’s
‘It’s beautifully cut, but it’s so neat and tidy. I’d like to see you dishevelled,’ she said, ‘like you were that morning in Capri.’
‘Would that be the morning you threw me out of your bed?’
‘Yes, and don’t make me feel guilty about it. That was mainly circumstances,’ she said.