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'We need to concentrate. The sooner we get married, the sooner I can get started on my work around here and the sooner I get my promotion. Yeah?’
She waved the notepad in his face and, though he'd love nothing better than to see if her desire matched his, he relented.
The mention of her promotion did it. She was doing this for her career, as he was, with no place for emotions to cloud the issue.
Scanning the extensive list she'd made, he pointed to the last few asterisks. 'The licence and legalities, are taken care of.'
When she quirked an eyebrow, he shrugged. 'Things get done when you have money.'
A shadow passed over her face and he silently cursed his choice of words. If anyone knew the cause and effect of money, she did. Her father threw enough of the green stuff around to buy whatever and whoever he wanted.
He should know.
'So the venue's all taken care of?'
For the first time since she'd arrived tonight, his confidence wavered.
'I thought the hotel garden would be a good spot? Beneath that poinciana tree near the pool?'
A perfect spot for a wedding, or so he'd been told by many guests: the towering umbrella-shaped tree laden with bright red flowers, Noosa beach in the background, clear blue ocean as far as the eye could see.
Britt had made him all too aware this marriage was a business merger, nothing more, yet he remembered how sentimental she'd get over the slightest thing and, while she appeared aloof with the planning, he'd bet his last dollar she'd want something a tad special.
'That's fine.' Her pen picked up tempo as she focused on the list, obviously eager to get this over and done with so she could escape. Accepting this marriage was business was one thing, having to pretend to like it another.
Why did that rankle so much? It wasn't as if this was remotely romantic yet somehow, ever since she'd returned—and returned his kisses—he'd had an odd ache in his chest, the pain he used to have when she was around all those years ago.
She intrigued him, infuriated him, inflamed him, and, though he tried to dismiss this marriage as a means to a goal, deep down he knew better.
He'd always wanted a family, the type of family he'd never had, and the only woman he'd ever let get close was sitting less than a foot away with fiddling fingers and a wary gleam in her blue eyes.
'Anything else?'
'What about a notice in the newspaper for an authentic touch?'
'That's it.' She jotted it down. 'I'd call you a genius but it would go to your head.'
'Try me.' He leaned towards her with the sole intention of brushing a stray tendril of hair from her forehead.
He never got the chance as their gazes locked for a heated moment before she leaped off the couch.
'Right, we're all done here. Thanks for dinner, it was great.' She shoved the notebook into her bag, before slinging it over her shoulder. 'I'm tired so I'll head off now. Big day Friday.'
With an overly bright smile, she practically ran towards the door. 'I'll get a copy of this list to you tomorrow. We don't have much time to get everything organised so the sooner we get it done, the better. I'll also—‘
'Red?'
'Yeah?' She paused mid-step and took a deep breath, the simple action drawing his attention to her breasts and the way they filled out her ribbed top.
'For a bonafide city girl, you're behaving like a country virgin.'
He expected a host of retorts, or at least one decent smartass remark.
Instead, she glared at him, flushed a deep crimson, and bolted.
Chapter Thirteen
Britt wriggled her toes in her favourite slippers, pulled her fluffy tangerine robe tighter, and cradled a hot chocolate while scanning her emails.
