A tiny smile pulled at her mouth. ‘I don’t have time to . . . talk.’
Flirt. You were going to say flirt. The charming deep pink colour creeping all the way up your neck says that for you.
He checked out the table behind her, strewn with cake, icing and something red and jelly-like, and let out a long, low whistle. ‘What the heck are you goin’ to do with that?’
‘Turn it into an amazing creation that will be the talk of the wedding,’ Maggie declared, defiantly lifting her chin.
‘Oh, they’ll be talkin’ about it alright, honey.’
She pointed her finger at him. ‘Get out, now, or . . .’
‘Or what?’
‘Do something useful.’ The challenge in her sapphire eyes uncurled a coil of desire in Chad and he fought to squash it back down. Appearing to be nothing better than a sex-starved, mouthy American wasn’t going to win over this straight-talking woman.
Chad shrugged off his coat and hung it on the back of a chair. While she continued to watch he removed his engraved platinum cufflinks and slipped them in his trouser pocket before rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. ‘I’m yours. Tell me what to do.’
She stared in complete disbelief and then burst out laughing; a rich warm sound that heated every inch of his skin.
‘You’re a guest. You’re supposed to sit between Tonya, the desperate divorcee, and Fiona’s sharp-tongued Great Aunt Audrey. Charming them and keeping the peace is your job for today.’
He grinned. ‘And you know this because?’
‘I helped Fiona with the seating plan.’
‘But didn’t arrange to sit next to me yourself?’ Chad lowered his voice and closed the gap between them. Catching a drift of Maggie’s unique scent made him want to nibble her neck to see if she tasted as good as she smelled. ‘Slipped up there, didn’t you?’
* * *
I knew exactly what I was doing. She’d told Fiona it was pointless to assign her a seat because she wouldn’t have time to use it, but her friend insisted. Maggie wasn’t intending on explaining to Mr Tempting about her abysmal record with men. She’d had more dating disasters than the Queen had planted commemorative trees and wasn’t ready for another round anytime soon. Maggie allowed her gaze to drift down over him,all smooth, pressed and yummy. She guessed he could lure a woman away from her good intentions with one kiss, but she wasn’t planning on finding out.
‘I assume Tonya is the blonde vixen waiting to make me her lunch?’
Maggie stifled a giggle and nodded. ‘You spotted her?’
‘Shespottedmeall the way across the room.’ Chad rolled his eyes.
‘So you decided I was a safer bet?’
The searing look he gave her could have barbecued a steak in three seconds flat. ‘Oh, honey, there’snothingsafe about you.’ If he was a cat he’d be purring. Maggie should have found his obvious, in-your-face flirtation hilarious but the grin spreading across his face told her Chad was doing this on purpose. She wasn’t sure why, or if she wanted to find out.
‘Leave me alone,’ she whispered, ‘I’ve got to get this finished.’
‘And I’ve offered to help.’ He folded his arms and planted his feet slightly apart making it clear he’d no intention of moving any time soon.
‘Fine. Put this on or you’ll ruin those pretty clothes.’ Maggie tossed him a “Two Hearts” apron and smiled as he held it up to examine it, not quite managing to hide his dismay. She was proud of the design but had to admit nothing about it was manly. The fine white linen was softened with red lace ruffles and strewn with entwined scarlet hearts along with hers and Emily’s initials.
Chad’s dark eyebrows rose but he didn’t say a word, only slipped the apron on over his head and gingerly stretched the wide red satin belt around his waist before tying it in a loose bow at the back. ‘Give me instructions. I’m all yours.’
She bit her tongue on the response that’d randomly popped into her brain — something along the lines of “I wish youwere.” She’d wasted five precious minutes she didn’t have and forcibly switched back into work mode. Maggie pointed to the small square cake set over on one side of the table. ‘I managed to salvage that and am turning it into a cake for the bride and groom to cut. Everyone else is having my version of a cupcake.’ He scrutinised her hard, as if she was explaining how to make an atom bomb instead of a simple cake. ‘Just shape whatever cake you can find from the pile into these cases. I’ll ice them when you’re done.’
‘Uh, won’t they fall apart when people try to eat them?’
His sharp question hit on the flaw in her plan and she tried to come up with a reasonable reply.
‘I don’t suppose you have any ice cream cones?’ Chad asked.
‘I don’t know, but that’s a brilliant idea.’
