“We have a tailor downstairs.” The salesman brushed a hand across the back of the jacket.
Carly swallowed hard. The material rippled over Mike’s broad shoulders. She clenched her hands into tight fists but the gesture didn’t alleviate the need to touch him. Nor did it lessen the painful knot in her stomach.
The salesman continued to speak, drawing her attention back to tuxedos and tailoring. “Needs some alterations, but nothing major. If you folks will excuse me, I’ll be right back.”
Carly walked around Mike, scrutinizing the snug fit of the material and trying not to imagine the lean, hard body beneath the tailored clothing. “It suits you.”
He shrugged. “I’m more comfortable in jeans and work boots.”
He looked sexy in either. “More comfortable for the jungle, huh?”
She took two steps backward. “What would you change... presuming the choice was yours?”
“For starters, this would have to go.” He reached up and untied the black bow tie, tossing it onto the nearest chair. “Then this.” He unbuttoned the conservative jacket and flung it aside. The black cummerbund followed.
Carly barely had time to assimilate his intent when he began to unbutton his shirt. “Now hang on a second.”
He grinned but didn’t stop removing his clothes. “You asked.”
She watched in silence as he shed the shirt baring a tanned chest, muscular forearms and a flat stomach. Without warning a wave of desire overcame common sense and her body reacted. The knot in her stomach tightened almost painfully, making her more aware of him than she had been before. If such a thing was possible.
He stood in front of her clad only in black trousers while she did her best to remain composed despite the rapid beating of her heart. “What next?” she managed to ask.
An irreverent gleam sparkled in his eyes, which appeared more golden than hazel, and held her in thrall.
“Don’t answer that,” she muttered.
“Close your eyes.”
Carly did as he asked, hoping to find a respite from the newly awakened sexual feelings this man aroused. But her imagination failed to cooperate. Mike’s tanned chest, well-muscled arms and overall powerful physique had been forever imprinted in her mind.
She heard the rustle of clothing and a few colorful curses before he finally spoke. “Open those beautiful eyes and tell me what you think.”
Looking every inch the rebel, Mike’s new outfit blatantly defied convention. His black European tuxedo jacket sported a shawl collar. In place of the old tuxedo shirt he now wore a white collarless one, buttoned to the top. The lavender cummerbund distinguished him from the typical attorney look Carly was used to.
“I told you purple was my favorite.” He grinned. “So what do you think?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but words wouldn’t come. Considering the thoughts rampaging around her brain, perhaps that was just as well. A little wild, a little sexy and a lot she desired. Beyond that Carly couldn’t think at all.
“Your shirt’s crooked.” She walked up to him and stood on tiptoe. Her fingers gripped the front of the shirt. She drew a deep breath, only to find she’d made another mistake. His cologne, an enticing scent she’d recently come to know, seeped inside her.
She’d dreamed of this scent. Of him.
“Carly.”
She glanced up, meeting his gaze. Now darkened by unmistakable need, his eyes turned a deeper shade of gold, and she felt drawn into the compelling depths. Unnerved, her fingers began to tremble.
He rested his warm hand on her waist. If he’d meant to steady her, his touch had the opposite effect and a tremor shot through her. A soft sigh escaped her lips.
He drew her close. Their bodies never connected, but something else did. His fingers tightened around her waist and the heat of his body wrapped her in warmth. Passion flared to life inside her. As if she could feel the imprint of his arousal against her skin, she ached for fulfillment. For him. Her hips jerked forward without her permission.
“Easy,” he whispered, but his hold on her waist tightened.
In the back of her mind she heard the gentle tinkling of bells. Is this what she’d always feared? What she’d been so ingrained to distrust? Her father’s love affair had destroyed so many lives. Carly had learned early that protestations of love couldn’t be trusted and passion could only lead to disaster. But with Mike’s arms wrapped firmly around her waist, the lessons of her parents’ past seemed far away.
“Sorry I’m late, but a client showed up unexpectedly from the West Coast.”
“Peter.” With a startled gasp, Carly wrenched herself from Mike’s embrace and turned to face her fiancé. “I was just...” She groped for an explanation and settled on the truth. “Crooked shirt,” she said, gesturing toward Mike. Even as she spoke, she struggled to get hold of her emotions.
“I’m glad you started without me, but...” Peter’s gaze darted to Mike. Seconds passed during which she held her breath before Peter turned back to face her. “I thought we agreed on conventional.”
She exhaled, relieved that all seemed normal. Although she wondered if anything would ever be right again. But for now, with Peter focused on getting the “right look” and then heading back to the office, Carly realized that everything was truly fine. She was safe. For now.
She glanced at her fiancé. He studied his brother and shook his head. “With all the business associates who will be there, this won’t work.”
For the first time since planning her wedding, Carly vacillated—between the old need to make Peter happy and a sudden desire to please Mike. Between her old, compliant self and this unfamiliar woman with desires she didn’t recognize.
“This was a joke, Pete.” Mike grinned and tugged at the purple cummerbund. “I was just killing time.”
Stark relief etched Peter’s face. Carly turned away and mouthed a silent “thank you” in Mike’s direction. His mouth tightened, but he nodded imperceptibly.
She inhaled and forced much needed air back into her lungs. Crisis averted, she thought, as Mike scooped up the original clothing and ducked inside the dressing room to change.
She ought to have felt relieved. So why did she feel so empty instead?
* * *
“That’s it.” Carly reached for the purse she’d hung over the side of the full-length mirror. She desperately needed fresh air and time alone.
“Don’t forget dinner tomorrow night with your parents,” Peter reminded her. “Your father wants to meet my brother.” He turned to Mike. “And with the way your plans change, this might be his last chance for a while.”