‘He said about six weeks. Or possibly sooner, if it felt comfortable and I didn’t experience any pain.’
‘Six weeks? I … I’m only here for five at the most.’
‘Then I’d better man-up, hadn’t I? I’m sure they always exaggerate. They said my nose should heal in three, so once that’s mended, I’ll be fine. And probably sooner than three. I’ve always been a quick healer.’
‘Some things are worth waiting for,’ I said. ‘Let’s see how it goes.’ I eased myself away from him and slowly walked towards the kitchen, and then I turned and glanced back at him with the sexiest smile I could muster as he followed me. ‘And even if kissing is still … uncomfortable after three weeks, there are other things that don’t involve putting any pressure on your nose.’
His sharp intake of breath was audible and the expression on his face and tension in his body, were giveaways.
‘Nothing like an incentive to concentrate the mind,’ he said. ‘What, exactly, are you suggesting?’
Jasper Lord was as interested in me as I was in him.
But for now we’d have to put that to one side and get this wedding back on track.
‘Nothing, for now, I’m afraid. We need to focus on this wedding. Have you spoken to Marcus? Oh, and why didn’t you tell him about your nose?’
He gave his head a little shake as though he needed to clear it of everything else and then he shrugged.
‘I thought he had enough on his plate without me telling him about that. Besides, it’s not as if there’s anything he could do. And it’ll heal in … two weeks.’ He grinned. ‘I’m an optimist.’
‘Good. So am I. How do you take your tea? Other than down the front of your T-shirt.’
His eyes danced with amusement. ‘Strong and hot. Like my women.’
I laughed despite the old joke, and then switched on the kettle.
I leant against one counter; he leant against the one opposite, and we gazed at one another in silence. But the look he was giving me was making my temperature rise. At this rate, I was going to beat the kettle to the boil.
I turned my back to him and busied myself with getting two mugs from the cupboard, two spoons from the drawer, and milk from the fridge, but I could feel his eyes on me all the while and it sent little bursts of excitement up and down my entire body.
I made tea for him and coffee for me and then asked, ‘Sofa over there and coffee table,’ and nodded towards them, ‘Or dining room table.’
He raised one brow. ‘Excuse me? Are we back to the contact sports?’
I rolled my eyes and picked up both mugs, one in each hand.
‘No. We’re here to discuss your cousin’s wedding. All my notes are on the dining room table, but we might not need them for this, and bearing in mind you’re in pain, I wondered if you’d rather sit somewhere comfortable, than at a table. The choice is yours.’
‘Sofa. Definitely. If we need your notes, we can move. Let me carry those. I’ve got a broken nose. My hands are fine.’
I glanced at his hands. They were more than fine, and I trembled slightly in anticipation. Tanned, agile-looking, and more like those of someone who had spent their life doing nothing, or working at a desk. Not those of someone who did manual labour as an electrician.
‘Thanks. But I’ve got them.’
He’d already taken a step towards me.
‘Are you sure? he asked, as our drinks lapped in our mugs as I almost spilt them. ‘I can take them, Erin.’
‘No need. Go and sit down. Unless you want another mug of tea spilt down you.’
He held both hands in the air. ‘Nope. I give up. Are you always this independent?’
‘Yes. Biscuit?’
‘No thanks. So what’s this all about? You said Marcus and Adele are considering a postponement. Didn’t their Spa break go well?’
‘Apparently not as well as Marcus hoped.’
