“I’ll remember that. It’s just...” He shook his head. “Never mind. None of my business.”
Her eyes narrowed with distrust... and a slight spark? “What?” she asked through clenched teeth.
“This is your wedding, right?”
“Stupid question.”
“Is it? For someone loaded down with wedding books and bridal pictures you’re giving up control of some major issues.” He reached for her, covering her ice-cold hand with his warmer one. He gazed into her eyes. The spark erupted into a flame of unchecked desire.
His thumb brushed over her third finger, avoiding the large diamond ring that looked so out of place on her delicate hand. Traitorous desires consumed his body while conflicting emotions swirled inside his head. The pad of his thumb traced a pattern just above her knuckle, where her wedding band would sit. “Think about it,” he murmured.
She shot him a look that could freeze hot coffee and wrenched her hand free from his.
“Miss Wexler?” a salesman greeted her. The rush of high-school students disappeared out the door, taking the loud laughs and boisterous shouts along with them. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“That’s okay.” She stood, obviously grateful for the interruption.
“If you and your fiancé are ready to get started...” Mike remained standing against the wall and glanced at Carly.
She fingered her bangs, a nervous gesture he found awfully endearing. And sweet. The woman would never hold her own in a game of poker, but at least he’d never be left guessing about her true feelings.
“He’s not my fiancé,” she finally said.
“Future brother-in-law.” The label grated. Mike forced a smile and shook the other man’s hand.
“Are we waiting for the groom?”
“No. We can start with the best man. Peter will be here soon,” Carly said.
Wisely, Mike didn’t touch that statement. Ten minutes later he stood in front of a full-length mirror, decked out in formal attire. “Jacket’s too tight,” he said, rolling his bad shoulder to alleviate the discomfort. He’d deal with the bow-tie issue later.
“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.