Harlequin KISS August 2014 Bundle (39 page)

‘What do you mean, “shortcircuit”? And “et cetera”?’ he asked, still a little shaken. Everything about her was throwing him off kilter.

‘I’ll get some options together for us to look over tomorrow. Nothing scary!’

She was completely back to normal. Full-strength perky. Better than the tragic facemask she’d freaked him out with—but only marginally. Leo didn’t like perky. And if he were being made to board Sunshine Smart’s good ship
Lollipop
for this wedding
he
would be the one at the tiller.

‘I thought we’d be emailing
the invitations,’ he said.

She gave him what could only be termed a pitying smile. ‘Did you?’

That was all. She wasn’t even going to bother arguing.

Um...no.
That was not how it was going to work. ‘It’s the twenty-first century,’ he said. ‘And time is short. I’ve seen some brilliant cutting-edge online invitations.’

‘Well, why don’t you bring one of those examples to our meeting
tomorrow on your tablet/device/notebook/whatever you’ve got, and I’ll bring some hard copy snail mail samples appropriate for a chic but traditional wedding celebration.’

‘You’re doing the soothe thing again.’

‘Oh, dear, am I? I’ll have to work on that,’ she said.

It was obvious to Leo that she had no intention of doing anything of the sort. But he wasn’t going to waste his breath
pointing that out. He was tired enough from just
looking
at her.

‘We’ll talk tomorrow—
after
I’ve checked with Caleb,’ he said shortly, and stood abruptly.

‘Just one more thing, Leo, before you rush off.’

He looked down at her and she cleared her throat.

‘What?’ Leo asked, trying not to feel a sense of impending doom.

‘Just...something that’s going to have to start now,
like right this second, if it’s going to be ready in two months.’

‘And are you going to share with me exactly what this all-important thing is?’

‘Promise you won’t get mad?’

‘No.’

‘It’s important.’

‘Waiting.’

‘I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t absolutely vital. It’s just...’ She stopped, ran her hand through her long hair, widened her eyes at him as though she were trying
to impart something telepathically. Ran her hand through her hair again.

And he—

God! The eyes.
Why hadn’t he noticed her eyes before?

She huffed out a breath and pursed her lips. Exasperated because he hadn’t read her chaotic mind, probably.

But all he could think about were her eyes.

‘Hair,’ she explained. ‘It only grows one-point-two-five centimetres a month. One-point-three
if you’re lucky.’

‘So?’

‘You have to start growing your hair.’

He had no answer. Might well have been gaping like a hooked fish.

‘Sorry—but if I didn’t raise it now you might have shaved your head tonight and it would be a shame to lose those few millimetres.’

‘I don’t want to grow my hair,’ Leo said. Ultra-reasonable. The way you talked to a person who was certifiably
insane.

‘But you will look so much better in the photos. And you have lovely hair.’

‘And you know this...how?’

‘I looked you up online and saw the photos from the launch of this place, when you had hair. Now, I’m not saying you’re not very good-looking even
with
the shaved head. Tall, but not in a carnival freaky way. Lean—which is amazing, for a chef, if you ask me. Wonderful sharp
cheekbones, brilliant smile— All right, I’m guessing the smile bit, since I haven’t actually seen it, but I’m a good guesser. And really lovely eyes—amber is such an unusual colour, you know? Tigerish. But if you look quite delectable now, you will be absolutely, irresistibly
gorgeous
with hair.’

Leo stood there, gobsmacked. ‘I’ve got to get to work,’ he said when he could trust himself to
speak.

‘But you’ll think about the hair, won’t you?’ she asked anxiously. ‘And while you’re thinking, maybe keep the razor off your scalp...just in case you
do
decide to look absolutely, irresistibly
gorgeous
at your brother’s wedding.’

He looked at her. Noted her eyes again. Really stunning eyes.
She
would look absolutely, irresistibly gorgeous herself if she—

Aha.

Leo could
have crowed, he was so pleased with himself. ‘Let’s make a deal—you go into the bathroom and wash off that eye-goop right now, and I will not shave my head...unless I see that crap all over your eyes again. The minute I see it, I’m reaching for the razor.’

And, yes!
He’d stumped her. She was the gaping fish now.

He watched as she processed what he’d said. She lifted her bag off the floor
and rummaged inside, pulled out a compact. Flipped it open, looked in the mirror. Widened her eyes, then squinted. Turned her head to peer sideways, then switched sides and did it again. ‘You know that I have strange eyes, right?’ she asked.

‘Beautiful eyes.’

‘Evil eyes.’

‘Yeah, maybe lay off the sci-fi.’

‘Oh, it’s a real condition. It’s called heterochromia iridum, and there
are various theories about how you get it. Genetics, melanin levels, trauma, chimerism—which is kind of creepy because it means another foetus has merged with you in the womb, which in my case would mean there were initially three of us, because— Well, anyway, I don’t like the idea of absorbing a sibling in the womb—hello, Dr Frankenstein!’ Pause for breath. ‘All that aside, I’m pretty sure they
used to burn people like me at the stake as witches back in the day.’

‘Nobody is going to burn you at the stake in modern-day Australia for having one blue and one green eye.’

‘I’ve tried contact lenses, but there is nothing that makes you panic quite like a contact lens that’s slipped up under your eyelid and you think it’s going to be there for eternity unless you race off to the emergency
room and have someone stick some implement in there against your poor squishy eyeball. Talk about bloodshot!’ She pursed her lips. ‘But I guess I could try them again—maybe some amber ones.’ She looked into his eyes, considering. ‘Because your eyes really are lovely, and I think I’d look kind of interesting with amber eyes.’

‘You do that and I’m shaving my head.’

Sunshine took another
look in the mirror, then snapped the compact shut. ‘All right. Deal. I may need a little make-up on the actual day of the reception, just so I don’t look Plain Janerama, but no camouflage paint in the meantime. I’m keeping the lipstick, though—I can’t go completely naked. So! Where’s the bathroom?’

Plain Janerama?
Leo, speechless, pointed.

Sunshine got to her feet. ‘No need to wait,’
she told him.

‘Oh, I’m waiting.’

She squared her shoulders. ‘This is going to be
weird
,’ she said, and tap-tapped away.

Leo checked that everything was in order in the kitchen, then returned to the table. He went through the checklist again. Swore under his breath. He suspected Sunshine Smart usually got her way in all things. Which meant she was in for a surprise, because just
on principle he wasn’t going to let that happen. He hadn’t got where he was today by doing what people told him. His survival instinct told him always to go his
own
way, to
get
his own way.

He started jotting down menu ideas—appropriate for a dinner for twenty-five people—but hadn’t got far when he heard the tap-tap of Sunshine’s returning high heels.

She plonked herself into the chair
opposite and did an over-the-top eyelash-bat at him.

Leo stared at her. He couldn’t help it. Without the exaggerated eye make-up she looked fresh and clean and sweet as suckable candy. Her dark chocolate hair against the ultra-white skin of her face seemed more dramatic. With the edge of her heavy fringe now damp and misplaced, he could see how fine and dark her eyebrows were, and that they
arched intriguingly towards the outer edge. Her eyelashes were thick and black enough to form a fine line around her eyes. And her eyes were simply spectacular. Heavy-lidded, slightly tilted, the colour difference so dramatic without the dark shadow and over-clumped lashes that he couldn’t seem to stop looking at them.

‘Well?’ she asked, batting away.

‘Better,’ Leo said, with impressive
understatement. He got to his feet. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, then—an hour earlier, if you can make it. But you’ll have to come to Mainefare—it’s in the Pig and Poke pub. Do you know it?’

‘Yes, I know it—and, yes, that’s fine. But before you go can I ask just one more favour?’

Leo eyed her suspiciously.

‘I’m staying for dinner,’ she explained. ‘Don’t worry—I have a booking. It’s just
that my date—Gary, his name is—is a massive foodie, and he’d really love to meet you. Perhaps you could just pop out and say hello...?’

‘Oh, sure,’ Leo agreed easily. He’d been expecting something worse—maybe that he have a shot of Botox!—and, anyway, speaking to his customers was part of his routine.

‘And do you think I could have this exact table? It has a lovely view over the park.
If it’s reserved I’ll understand, but—’

He caught his impatient sigh before it could erupt. ‘You can have the table, Sunshine.’

‘And could I have a Campari and soda while I wait for Gary?’

‘Fine,’ Leo said, irritated that it made him curious about her—because he would have pegged her for a Cosmopolitan girl. And who the hell
cared
what she liked to drink? ‘I’ll get one sent over.’

‘And—’

‘Good God, what else?’

‘Just that it’s Gary’s birthday...so if there’s a special dessert or something...?’

‘Yes. I. Will. Send. Out. A. Special. Dessert. Now, are you all right for socks and undies, or do you need me to get you some of those too?’

‘Actually, I never wear socks.’ Sunshine smiled serenely. ‘And I’m not wearing undies tonight—not under
this
dress!’

Leo could feel his eyes bug out of his head. ‘Thanks for that mental picture, Sunshine. Anything else you’d care to share?’

‘Well...’

‘Yeah, hold that thought,’ he said, and made a bolt for the kitchen. Where he leant against the wall and burst out laughing.

His sous chef looked at him as if he’d grown a gigantic unicorn horn.

Clearly it had been a long time since he’d
laughed.

* * *

Yum.

That was the word that had been popping into Sunshine’s head with monotonous regularity from the moment Leo had sent out a bowl of polenta chips with a gorgonzola dipping sauce to snack on while she drank her Campari.

Q Brasserie had an open kitchen, so she could not only smell but also see the magic being wrought on an array of seafood and meat—and, okay,
vegetables too, although they were a lot less interesting if you asked her.

She rubbernecked as a steady stream of mouthwatering dishes was whisked past her en route to other diners, agonised over the menu choices and wished she could eat everything.

Sunshine basically Hoovered up her entrée of six plump, perfectly sautéed scallops, served with a Japanese-style dressing of cucumber,
rice vinegar, mirin, and ginger. And it took great willpower
not
to beg a taste of Gary’s mushrooms with truffle custard. She wouldn’t normally covet a vegetarian dish but, come on, truffle custard?
Yum!

The main meals were sublime. She ate every bite of her Angus beef brisket, served with smoked bone marrow and potato confit, and, giving in to her inner piglet on the date-taste issue, was
in the process of polishing off one of Gary’s divine king prawns—chargrilled with coriander and lime,
yum, yum, yum
—when up bowled Leo.

He’d changed from his jeans, T-shirt and way cool brown leather lace-ups into a spotlessly clean, double-breasted chef’s jacket, finely checked pants and classy black slip-ons, and he looked sigh-worthy.

Leo looked at her well-cleaned plate. At Gary’s.
At the tiny piece of prawn on the end of her fork. His eyebrows shot up.

Sunshine knew she was presenting as a glutton—but so what? She liked food! Sue her! She calmly finished the last bite of prawn and laid her fork on her plate.

She made the introductions, then retreated as Leo engaged Gary in a conversation about food.

Gary looked a little starstruck. Which was kind of sweet.
He
was kind of sweet. Not that their relationship was going anywhere. This was their third date and from her perspective he’d settled into purely platonic material. She hadn’t had even one lascivious thought about him.

The conversation moved on from food and Gary was explaining a little about his job. He was an investment banker—which was more interesting than it sounded. Truly!

‘Nice
talking to you Gary,’ Leo said eventually. ‘Dessert is on the house. Happy birthday, and enjoy the rest of your evening.

* * *

Leo had been aware of Sunshine beaming her approval all through his talk with Gary. It was irritating, like a tiny pebble stuck in your shoe, to have her there—just there...just...
there
. Like a hyped-up Miss Congeniality.

In fact the whole evening had been
irritating, because that damned table he’d pinched from one of his regulars was in his line of sight from the kitchen, so he’d been in Peeping Tom mode all night. Watching as she ate. And ate and ate. As she made Gary laugh. And laugh and laugh.

Gary was clearly besotted with her. Poor guy. He was handsome—a nice man—but not in Sunshine’s league. Not that Leo knew what Sunshine’s league
was
, only that Gary wasn’t in it. Which had been underscored by the expression on Sunshine’s face when the Persian nougat glacé had arrived at the table. The way her glowing eyes had closed as she took the first bite, then opened as the taste hit her. How her mouth had oozed over the spoon...

And why hadn’t he noticed the shape of her mouth before? Too much coloured gunk, he supposed. But once
the lipstick had worn off she hadn’t bothered reapplying it. Which was odd, wasn’t it? He’d never known a girl
not
to race off and reapply her lipstick
ad nauseam
during dinner.