Truly Madly Deeply Boxed Set (26 page)

“Nice,” he murmured in agreement. “So have we discovered what kind of woman prefers plain gold to diamonds?” His rich laugh hung in the air.

The sound warmed her, even as an unexpected chill dashed over her skin. She glanced up at the blue sky. A single puff of cloud covered the sun. Carly knew with complete certainty that this man, and not a passing feat of nature, caused her tremors and distinct sense of unease.

“Someone with more sense than to stand on a street corner in Manhattan and talk to a perfect stranger,” she murmured. “Excuse me.” She pivoted on her heel, intending to head inside the store, where safety in numbers awaited her.

“Carly, wait.”

She froze in midflight, turning back toward that compelling voice. “Who are you?” she asked warily.

“Mike Novack, Peter’s brother.” He held a bronzed hand toward her.

She silently cursed her fiancé’s lack of sentiment. The only picture she’d seen of Mike had been as a young boy. Certainly she’d have recalled seeing a current photo of the good-looking man standing before her.

“Brother.” Even as she reached out her hand, dismay and self-loathing rippled through her. Flirting with a stranger while shopping for wedding bands had been bad enough, but flirting with Peter’s errant brother showed a decided lack of judgment.

The type of judgment she’d expect from her father, not from herself.

“Last time I checked,” Mike said.

His strong hand grasped hers and she lost any sense of equilibrium she might have felt. His calloused fingers wrapped around her skin, enclosing her hand in warmth.

Heat traveled from her fingers, up her arm and into her breasts before settling in the pit of her stomach. Through sheer force of will, she tried to ignore the new and unnerving sensations.

She wrenched her hand free from Mike’s grasp and focused all her attention on the plate-glass window. Without the sun’s rays, the rings had lost much of their sparkle and allure. She wrapped her arms across her chest in a futile attempt to warm herself inside and out.

“Carly?”

She grit her teeth against the sound of concern in his deep voice. “Obviously you’ve seen my picture.”

Mike smiled. “The one on Peter’s desk.”

“I wish I could say the same of you.”

“I’m the photographer in the family, not Pete.”

“So I’ve heard. Are you also the family flirt?”

His eyes narrowed in confusion. “I know I’ve been out of the country for a while, but when did casual conversation become slang for come-on?”

She blew her bangs out of her eyes with a hard puff of air. “Okay, I overreacted.” To a man who made her heart race and her palms sweat. As far as she was concerned, she’d definitely underreacted.

She really wanted to run and hide from Mike and from herself. “Truce?” she asked, holding out her hand. To prove she could handle physical contact, not because she craved the sensations his warm touch aroused.

“Truce.” Mike grasped and released her hand in a quick movement. Not because he couldn’t handle touching her soft skin, but because his mere presence had obviously left her shaken. He had no idea why.

“Where is Peter?” Carly asked.

“Work. He was on his way out the door when a last minute crisis hit. He sent me along with his apologies.”

“Lawyers.” The nonchalant shrug of her shoulders was at distinct odds with the disappointed look in her eyes. “At least this time he remembered to send someone to tell me.” She smiled. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he said. The woman standing before him was a definite surprise.

When Mike had asked about Carly, Peter had answered with a distracted, “We’re two of a kind, a match made in professional heaven.” To Mike the answer had been the equivalent of “She’s got a good personality.” Never a rave review for a woman. Mike had then sought answers in the framed picture on Peter’s desk. The black-and-white photo hadn’t done justice to this woman.

Perhaps she wasn’t a knockout, but she definitely possessed a certain something that made a man look twice. An elusive quality he’d like to capture on film. Light brown hair with golden highlights framed her face and caressed her shoulders in soft waves. Wispy bangs fell just below her eyebrows—when she wasn’t swiping at them with one hand. Mike suppressed the urge to brush them aside, just to see if her hair felt as soft as it looked. Her lips were a bit too full but glistened enticingly beneath a sheen of pink gloss.

His brother was one lucky SOB. Not that Mike would ever trade his freedom for the confines of marriage, but he intended to make sure Peter appreciated his good fortune.

“Mike?”

A tap on his shoulder took him by surprise and he flinched.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Fine.” He rolled his shoulder in a circle, stretching the tight muscles. He wondered if the recent injury would ever heal, or if the ache along with the scars were meant as a permanent reminder of what he’d left behind and all he still had to go back to.

“I asked how much time we’ve got” She lifted one eyebrow in question.

“About...” He glanced at his watch. “Another five, ten minutes, depending on whether or not Pete gets sidetracked. If he’s not here by a quarter after, he said to consider him a no-show and he’ll call to reschedule.” He grinned. “His words, not mine.”

“Not a problem. It’s nothing unusual anyway.”

Awfully accepting for a woman waiting to pick wedding bands with her beloved fiancé, Mike thought. “I see Pete still treats his personal life like a business meeting.”

“Don’t judge him.” Her eyes narrowed, flashing angry sparks.

Her defense of her fiancé was admirable if undeserved, Mike thought.

“Lawyers’ hours are unpredictable. I understand.”

“So do I.” But if his driven, workaholic brother often ignored Carly in favor of legal briefs and pestering clients, he needed a libido transplant.

“He wanted to be here,” she said.

“I never said otherwise. I just said he hasn’t changed.”

A muscle twitched in her cheek for a second before she gave in and smiled. “I guess you do know your brother well.”

“You sound surprised.”

“It’s just that he’s always concerned about you, but you’re...” She trailed off. A slight flush stained her cheeks, painting them a rosy pink.

“Rarely in touch,” he finished for her. “Comes with the territory. The places I travel lack the luxury of pay phones.”

“But the two of you are close.”

“We’re brothers.” For Mike, that said it all. But for each other, Mike and Peter had no one else in the world who cared. Except Carly. Peter now had his fiancée and Mike had to stop staring at her as if he’d discovered uncharted territory. Better to concentrate on the upcoming wedding and lifelong commitment between Carly and his brother.

“How long will you be in town?” she asked.

“At least the month until the wedding and probably awhile afterward. Then I hit the road again.” He had no other choice. He’d left mid-assignment because he’d allowed personal demons to haunt him. He knew damn well he had to face them down if he wanted to look himself in the mirror every morning. Mike Novack never left a job undone, and the man he knew himself to be wouldn’t let the past haunt him.

Once he returned to the rambling life he’d always loved, everything would get back to normal. Or so he hoped, glancing at the woman about to marry his brother.

“Ready to check out the rings inside?” Mike asked.

“Sure.” But her gaze strayed to the jewel-filled window once again.

“Is there one you really like?” he asked.

“Those.” She leaned forward and tapped lightly, indicating a set of simple two-toned rings.

A woman with substance. His mind ran through their earlier banter and he realized she’d meant every word. “They’re beautiful,” he said.

She turned to look at him. “But not Peter’s taste.” A frown touched her lips and a corresponding sadness flashed in her gentle brown eyes.

“You’re right. They wouldn’t stop traffic. Pete would prefer something a little more... noticeable.”

She sighed.

“You obviously know him well, too,” Mike said.

She smiled. “We understand each other.”

Did they? Mike had spent but a few minutes with each and he’d already begun to wonder. Watching Carly stare longingly at the rings in the window, he grew concerned.

“It’s getting late,” she murmured. “I hope he realizes these things can’t be rushed and we have to have them ordered, sized and engraved. Then there’s the tuxedos, the final flower arrangements, the...”

“Relax. No list is set in stone. It’ll all get done in time.”

“Only if we follow my schedule.”

Mike placed a comforting hand on her bare shoulder, realizing his mistake too late. Her skin felt like fine silk beneath his roughened fingers. He breathed in deeply. She looked like sunshine and smelled like vanilla. A potent combination, he discovered.

“What if we get a cup of coffee and go over this schedule of yours? I’m sure you’d relax once you see everything will fall into place.”

Her frantic gaze darted from his hand, which remained on her shoulder, to the rings in the storefront window. “Coffee’s not such a good idea.”

He ought to let her go. After his overwhelming reaction to her, distance seemed the safest route. “We’ve got the time,” he muttered instead.

“Pick up any magazine or newspaper. Caffeine’s not good for you.” She stepped toward the street. Before he realized her intent, a yellow taxi screeched to a halt.

“Thanks for meeting me. I’m sure with all the wedding things going on I’ll be seeing a lot more of you.” Her rambling clearly stated that she hoped that wouldn’t be the case. Those huge brown eyes told another story.

“Count on it,” he said with a smile.

No sooner had she darted into the waiting cab than the taxi pulled away from the curb.

“Ah, the joys of living in New York City.” He watched as the brake lights disappeared into the maze of traffic, taking Carly farther away.

* * *

Carly stepped into the familiar lobby of Peter’s building. The smell of fresh paint permeated the air. Clean white walls surrounded chrome and mirrors. She wasn’t surprised. Thanks to the cost of the apartment and the condominium fees, the tenants in this Upper East Side luxury building demanded quality service and maintenance. Peter was no exception.

“Evening, Miss Wexler.”

“Hi, George.” Carly smiled at the gray-haired doorman she’d known as long as she’d known Peter. “Is he in?” she asked.

“Flew past me not ten minutes ago.”

“Good. Do me a favor, don’t announce me.” She leaned closer to the small desk. “I want to surprise him.”

The older man grinned. “Not a problem. You be good,” he said with a laugh.

“I always am. Thanks, George. And you have a nice night.” With a wave, she headed for the bank of elevators at the far end of the hall.

In the normal course of events, Carly went out of her way not to surprise Peter, but his schedule had been decidedly uncooperative lately.

The elevator doors glided open and Carly stepped inside. Since her engagement, she’d given the wedding planning “experts” free rein. In her role as columnist and counselor, others relied on Carly for advice, but in her personal life she had no problem deferring to those more experienced than she... especially now. She’d made a commitment, and vows were something she intended to repeat only once in this lifetime.

She stepped out of the elevator and walked down the familiar hallway, pausing outside Peter’s apartment. A rush of panic hit her and she wished she’d called first.

Too late. She rapped lightly on the door.

“Coming.” The muffled voice was followed by heavy footsteps and the rattle of a chain lock.

“You guys are late and I’m starving.” The door swung open wide. “You’re not the pizza man.”

Carly swallowed hard. “And you’re not Peter.” She hadn’t expected to see Mike again without being forewarned. Nor had she expected the adrenaline rush to be quite so potent the second time.

“Thankfully, no. I’m much more laid-back and a heck of a lot better-looking.”

“All ego,” she said, suppressing a grin.

“Not enough substance?” Mike asked.

Too much, she thought, as they fell into the easy banter of earlier that afternoon.

He gestured her inside. Carly stepped past him. The warm aroma of spiced aftershave assaulted her senses, heightening her awareness of the man standing in the entryway. Behind her, the apartment door closed with a heavy thud. She turned to find Mike leaning, one shoulder propped against the wall. One bare muscular shoulder. A shudder rippled through her, catching her unaware.

“Did you decide to take me up on that cup of coffee?” he asked with a knowing grin.

She fingered her bangs. “I’d forgotten all about it” She hadn’t forgotten him, though. In fact, she’d spent the rest of the day attempting to push all thoughts of Mike Novack out of her mind.

He walked toward her, forcing her to acknowledge that she’d been unsuccessful in her attempt. “I’m disappointed,” he said. “But you can make up for your lack of concern by sharing my pizza.” His gaze never wavered.

Golden eyes captured her, making her feel cornered. Light-headed. Excited. She anticipated the rush that came with their verbal sparring.

He tapped the tip of her nose with one finger. “I hate eating alone.”

“I’ll bet you rarely do,” she muttered.

A cough jolted Carly into sudden awareness of her surroundings. She jerked away from Mike, feeling a mixture of guilt and lingering desire.

“This is a surprise,” Peter said, watching them both from a few feet away.

“Not an unwelcome one, I’m sure.” Mike walked past her and seated himself on the sleek leather couch in the living room. He propped his feet on a glass cocktail table and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Of course not,” Peter said. He smiled and extended a hand toward Carly. She went to him, trying to ignore the feel of Mike’s burning gaze. She brushed a kiss on Peter’s damp cheek. Freshly showered, he smelled of familiar soap and shampoo. He drew her against him, resting his arm around her waist. “Carly’s always welcome. This visit just wasn’t planned.”