He's the One by Jane Beckenham (ready to read books .TXT) 📗

trying to psychoanalyze me, or something?"

Zane simply smiled, which didn't help Cade's mood one iota.

"At the sound of repeating myself, mate, get lost."

Zane held up both hands in surrender. “Okay. I get the picture. You don't want to talk about her."

"Her?"

"The lady you've got the hots for."

"What makes you say that?"

A belly rumble rolled from Zane's chest. “Brother, I can read you like a book."

Just then, the phone rang, and Cade sent a prayer up for its inventor. He picked up the hand-held and eyed the display panel, then his brother and scowled.

"Okay, I'm going.” Zane gave Cade a mischievous wink, turned and exited, closing the door behind him. “It's her,” Cade heard Zane call to the bar patrons.

Cade groaned aloud. He'd kill his brother with his bare hands.

He flicked the phone on, aware of the upped tempo of his heartbeat and the sudden sheen of perspiration on his brow. But that was nothing compared to the burning need in his pants.

"Hello, Taylor."

There was no sound at first, except a soft feathering of her breath down the phone line.

"Taylor?"

"I ... yes, it's me. I ... um ... want to thank you for dinner last night. It was very ... enjoyable."

"Even though you didn't get what you wanted?” Not right away, he added silently

"I thought I should see your new premises, get an idea of what you want."

You, sweetheart, Cade said to himself, smiling at Taylor's obvious sidestepping of his blatant question. His brain warned him repeatedly to slow down and take it easy, not to scare her off, but so far he hadn't listened.

From his office, Cade could hear the cacophony of music combined with laughter from customers on the other side of the door. It was late in the day, and already the bar hummed. It would be a good night for business, but definitely not a good night to bring Taylor here. He'd never hear the end of it.

His decision was decisive. “I'll be there in five."

"Now?"

Wired, Cade strode to the door, still holding the phone. “Sure. Isn't that what you want?"

"Yes.” Taylor's reply was soft, and he barely heard it. But the fact that she hadn't hesitated brought a quick smile to his face.

"Are you still at work?"

"Yes, I've got two weddings this weekend."

"More fools biting the dust,” Cade muttered beneath his breath as he hung up.

* * * *

The five minutes it took to drive to Taylor's seemed to take way too long. He came to a halt outside her tiny office located in the heart of Devonport's village atmosphere and scooted up the path.

She opened the door wide and smiled, but he didn't move.

"Hello."

For some reason, Cade wanted to wait right there and remember the moment, taking it all in. Dressed in a matching camel colored dress and jacket, she bespoke elegance. She was all woman; soft curves and gentle and Cade wondered for the umpteenth time what she'd be like lying beneath him. Oh, boy, he had it bad. Cade expelled a long hiss.

"So this is where all the action takes place?” he said as he moved about her show room and office. Swathes of bridal silks and satins hung from one wall, photos of her clients decorated another, while shoes, headpieces and veils were artfully displayed inside two ornate white cabinets.

"We try and cater for all types of occasions and give brides an idea of what's available. It helps them choose."

"What about the grooms? Don't they get a look in?"

"Of course. It's their day, too. But usually what we find is the bride, and often her family, get things underway."

"And the groom comes screaming up the rear?” Cade said unable to help himself. “Sorry,” he shrugged sheepishly. “Marriage isn't in my line of thinking. I've seen how it works."

"Yet you attended your friend's wedding—even as best man,” she countered, buttoning up her jacket, a reaction that screamed keep away.

"I don't criticize others for wanting to give it a go. What do they say? Love is blind?” But as far as he was concerned, love was too risky. “Why bother with all this stuff?” he said pointing to the bridal accoutrements about the room. “The divorce rate is here to stay. Of the twenty thousand odd marriages in 2004, virtually half that number ended up divorce."

Taylor's mouth pursed. “My, you're a fist full of facts and figures, aren't you? Got any more you can spout off?"

"Nope, just those,” he said, giving her his best disarming smile.

It worked, and she took a step back. “I see."

He watched the flicker of emotions skitter across her eyes. They'd darkened to a deep ocean blue. “And what's precisely is it you see, Ms. Sullivan? You going to get all uppity on me?"

"No.” But she didn't quite look him in the eye. “Your attitude, and the fact you can reel off facts and figures, makes sense, though."

Cade frowned. What did she know about him? “About me, I presume you mean."

Taylor shrugged. “Sure,” she said, but kept that gaze directed elsewhere.

Cade bristled. He didn't like the way this was heading, and certainly did not want some uptight woman trying to get the better of him. “Taylor Sullivan,” he said, planting his feet firm, towering over her. “Let's get this straight. Don't you try and analyze me."

"As if I would.” And she looked at him from beneath those long dark lashes of hers.

Blast it. It sent his pulses skyrocketing and his thoughts scattering. Hell, one look like that and she could analyze all she wanted. “You might do it all the time for your clients, Taylor, but I'm not a client."

"For your new bar concept, you are."

"Yes, but not a marriage client. So enough of the psycho-babble. My psyche isn't up for discussion."

"Suit yourself."

"You bet I will. Come on, let's go.” Cade turned to walk away.

"To your new premises?"

"Yep, unless you want to try and analyze why I've started that venture, too. If so, then, let me tell you, this little deal of yours is O.F.F. Got it."

Taylor saluted and grinned