The Wedding Secret. Michele Dunaway
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up. Come on,” she cajoled, “surely there’s one person who might fit the bill?”
“There is. The guy I have to walk down the aisle with. Luke Shaw. Surfer-boy looks. Body to die for. Charisma and class.” And that dimple in his cheek had been so tempting, making any woman want to trace it after making love…
Luke was a real flesh-and-blood man, not a fantasy. Still, what would he be like?
“He sounds absolutely scrumptious. Go for it,” Lisa said, jolting Cecile back to the present.
“Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t,” Cecile said. She certainly didn’t need to be considering having sex with Luke Shaw, no matter how attractive the guy was. Her focus should be on saying goodbye and getting back to the wedding, not that she wanted to do either. “Right now forget my troubles and consider yourself getting a big hug through the phone. You are very lucky and I’m thrilled for you. Unlike me needing to get through today.”
“That bad?” Lisa said, prolonging the conversation one more minute, as they had so often done in the past.
“Oh, yes,” Cecile said with a nod. “So before I let you go, promise you’ll do me one favor.”
“What? You know I’ll do anything.”
Cecile used her free hand to finger the fabric of her gown. “That’s good, because I’m going to send you a photo of this dress. If you care about me, don’t make me wear anything this hideous again. I look like a fat purple grape.”
Lisa began to laugh, and Cecile realized how much she missed her friend. “I promise not to torture you,” Lisa said. “Go survive and be sure to have at least one drink for me. And don’t forget to hit on that guy.”
“As soon as this thing’s over, I’m having at least two. As for hitting on Luke? We’ll see. You know I’m trying to turn over a new leaf.”
“Start tomorrow afternoon,” Lisa joked before saying her goodbyes.
Yes, but starting tomorrow afternoon would sort of defeat the whole purpose of beginning anew. Upon her return to Chicago, Cecile had set three goals. One, excel at her career. Two, become closer with her sister. And three, try to avoid Mr. Right Now and instead find Mr. Right. So no matter how much she might be tempted, she’d decided to hold out for something that at least had potential. New city. New attempt.
Cecile ended the call, closed the phone and turned. She then did a double take and took a much-needed step back.
Luke Shaw hovered about five feet away, as if waiting for her. He gave her a killer smile that made the big, bad wolf seem tame. Damn, but the man did something to her equilibrium. Already her skin heated, as if he’d run a finger down her arm instead of just giving her a smoldering glance.
“I’ve been looking for you,” he said.
Chapter Two
Cecile winced. How long had he been there? How much had he overheard? Had he heard her say she thought he had a body to die for? Had he understood her meaning when she’d said, “Maybe I will”?
If so, he wasn’t telling. He stood there and stared at her, a poker facade having fallen into place. Cecile blinked and tried to read him. She’d been having a conversation—a private conversation—involving Bobs and picking up groomsmen.
“Is there something wrong?” Luke asked, that sexy voice of his low and deep. It rumbled over her, sending some foreign sensation to her toes.
He’d overheard her. She was certain of it, especially when that devastatingly handsome smile of his widened suddenly. He was Mr. Charming and he knew it.
But two could play at this game. So like a cat that always landed on her feet, Cecile quickly found her poise. She had a lifetime of experience in handling men like Luke Shaw—they’d come out of the woodwork ever since she’d passed that awkward stage and developed breasts.
“I would say that the only thing wrong is that you’ve crept up on me. One should be able to have a private conversation in a church, don’t you agree?”
He laughed at that, another deep rumble that sounded great. “Sorry if I surprised you, but I was sent to find you. Not my fault or intention to surprise you,” Luke said, his big wide hands open in a gesture of mock defense for his loitering.
“So let me guess—someone got all panicky that, instead of indulging in mimosas, I escaped,” Cecile said.
“Devon’s mother,” Luke confirmed. “Although when I was told to find a missing bridesmaid, I wasn’t surprised to discover you were the one I was searching for.”
“I must have errant stamped on my forehead,” Cecile said. “I had a phone call I needed to take, of which I’m sure you got quite an earful since you chose to eavesdrop.”
Luke shrugged, his countenance not the slightest bit guilty or sheepish. “I will admit to hearing some of it. Good news, I gathered, and some other parts that sounded rather intriguing.”
“Yes, I’m sure you were flattered to hear your name,” Cecile said. “But I doubt that’s anything new. The gist is that I just learned my best friend is getting married and I’m going to be her maid of honor.”
“Congratulations,” Luke said.
Cecile took a moment to size him up. With her heels, they stood eye to eye, and since she was five foot ten, that made him about six feet. He was trim and his tux fit. Perfectly.
She swallowed and rallied. “As to the other part, Lisa just wanted to know if there were any single men here tonight. I couldn’t disappoint her.”
“I’m glad I could help out,” Luke said, his blue eyes twinkling. “In fact, I happen to agree with you one hundred percent on my attributes. If you’d like, I’d be happy to return the favor and list yours. That is, if Bob won’t mind and think you’re hitting on me. I’d hate to stop you from turning over a new leaf.”
“Believe me, you won’t,” Cecile said, regaining the upper hand. “Not that I date anyone named Bob. Really, I’m sure we should be getting back.”
As if by kismet, Devon’s mother approached, her loud “There you both are!” echoing off the walls. “Luke, I send you to find her and you get lost, too!”
“Sorry,” Luke said. He bent down and kissed the petite woman’s cheek. “Got distracted. Cecile was telling me about Bob.”
“Bob? Is he here, at the wedding?” Amanda Pinewood asked.
Luke was a cad, and Cecile resisted the childish urge to stomp on his foot. He had overheard and understood everything and he wasn’t afraid to tease her with it. As if confirming his rogueness, Luke winked as Cecile sputtered, “Uh, no, Bob’s not here.”
“Oh, that’s good,” Amanda said, relieved. “It’s time to line up, and you two are not in your proper place.”
“Heaven forbid,” Luke teased, that wicked smile of his widening again. Cecile knew that Luke and Devon had grown up as next-door neighbors and buddies. Luke held his arm out to Cecile. “Shall we?”
She’d had to touch him last night at the rehearsal. Then, he’d caused her metabolism to shift into fast-forward, as if she’d just chugged an energy drink. A big believer in chemistry, Cecile wasn’t sure what type of pheromones Luke possessed, but he oozed them. Especially now, when they were all directed at her.
But she was Cecile Duletsky, talk-show producer and woman who’d met celebrities on a daily basis when she’d been a talent procurer. She could handle Luke Shaw.
Cecile slipped her bare arm in his, the smooth feel of his tuxedo creating friction against her bare skin. She tried to ignore the immediate heat, but it was near impossible to ignore the presence of the man who walked easily by her side as if he somehow belonged there.