The Best Man & The Wedding Planner

by Teresa Carpenter

  Mona Rose was small with white hair, glasses and lots of pip. She greeted them warmly as Christina had called to say they would be coming. Lindsay sat on a floral-print couch with crocheted lace doilies on the arms while Zach lounged in a matching rocking chair.

  Mona served them hibiscus tea and lemon cake while she chatted with Zach.

  Lindsay smiled and sipped. After a few minutes of listening, she discreetly kicked Zach in the foot.

  He promptly got the clue. “She’s very pleased Christina wishes to wear the brooch. She wore the brooch for her wedding and had many happy years with her Benito. Her daughter, Cira, chose not to wear the brooch and now she’s divorced with two children.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” Lindsay accepted a plate of cake. “Does she know where the brooch is?”

  Zach conveyed the question.

  Mona tapped her chin as she stared out the window. After a moment she took a sip of her tea and spoke. “Sophia, my youngest sister, I think was last to wear le broccia.” She shook her head and switched to Italian.

  Zach translated. “Pia is her older sister. Her daughter was the last to get married. She didn’t wear the brooch, either, but Mona thinks Pia may have it.”

  “Grazie.” Lindsay directed her comments to Mona, smiling to hide her disappointment. She was hoping this chore could be done.

  “Would you be willing to do a quick look through your things while we’re here? Just to be on the safe side.”

  Zach translated both the question and Mona’s answer.

  “Si. I will look. Christina is a good girl. And Antonio, he is good for Halencia. But they will both need much luck.”

  * * *

  The next morning Lindsay struggled to get ready while shuffling around five large boxes. When she’d returned to the hotel last night, all five boxes had been delivered to her room. As predicted, she’d had a hard time getting around the bed. She’d actually had to climb over it to get to the bathroom.

  When she’d asked about it at the front desk, Signora Eva apologized but explained a delivery of provisions had forced her to reclaim the space she’d been using to store Lindsay’s boxes. That had meant the boxes needed to be delivered to Lindsay’s room. This morning she’d managed to arrange them so she had a small aisle around the bed, but she had to suck in a breath to get through.

  The thought of unpacking everything in this limited space made her cringe. She’d be tripping over her samples every time she turned around.

  Frustrated, she left the room for some breakfast. Later she wanted to view the palazzo and chapel where the wedding and reception would take place. But she hoped to rent a scooter before making the trip to the other side of town.

  If any were still available.

  The press truly had descended. On her way to breakfast she fended off two requests for exclusive shots of the wedding dress. She informed them the dress was under lock and key at the palace and suffered no remorse for her lie.

  When Signora Eva came by to refill her coffee, Lindsay asked if she knew of any place she might rent for a work space and received much the same response as she’d gotten from the mayor.

  She was processing that news when her cell rang.

  With a sinking heart she listened to her assistant advise her she wouldn’t be joining her in Halencia, after all. While Mary gushed on about the part she’d landed in a situation comedy all Lindsay could think about was how she’d manage without an assistant.

  Lindsay needed to be out in the field a lot. She counted on her assistant to keep track of all the details of a wedding, do follow up and advise Lindsay of any problems. She’d quickly become bogged down if she had to take on the extra work.

  Because she cared about Mary, Lindsay mustered the enthusiasm to wish her well. But as soon as she hung up she had a mini meltdown. Stomping over to the sideboard, she plopped an oversize muffin onto her plate and returned to her seat, her mind churning over her lack of options...

  As Lindsay made the hike up the hill to Zach’s villa she contemplated the obvious answer to her space problem. Much as she preferred to avoid Zach, after two short days she seriously considered asking him for help.

  Her hesitation wasn’t worry over his answer. He’d been ordered to assist her and he genuinely seemed to take his duty seriously.

  The problem would be in dealing with him.

  From the air, the villa had looked vast enough to provide a small corner for her without causing her to trip over him at every turn. But she wouldn’t know until she saw the inside, which is what had prompted this little trip.

  She wiped her brow with the back of her hand. Only eight in the morning and already the day had some heat to it. The blue, cloudless sky offered little relief from the relentless sun. But it also meant no humidity.

  “Good morning, partner.” Zach’s voice floated on the air.

  She paused and shaded her eyes to seek him out. He stood on a terrace of his rented villa. The big, stone building rested right up against the old protective wall that ringed the city. From this vantage point it looked huge. Three stories high, the bottom floor created the terrace where Zach stood. The top floor was a pergola with windows on all sides.

  “Good morning.” She waved.

  “You missed the street.” He gestured for her to backtrack a bit. “It’s a narrow drive right by the pink house.”

  She followed his directions, turning at the pink house, and there he was coming to greet her. He wore khaki shorts and a blue cotton shirt untucked. The sleeves were rolled to expose his muscular forearms. He looked cool, calm and competent.

  How she envied him.

  The trees thinned as they neared the villa. He took her hand and led her down a steep set of steps and a walkway along the side of the house. When they rounded the corner, her breath caught in her throat.

  The small city spread out below them, a backdrop to the green lawn that covered the hillside. Oak, olive and pine trees provided shade and privacy. To her right a table and chairs sat under a covered patio, the ivy-covered trellis lending it a grotto effect while a stone path led to a gazebo housing white wicker furniture.

  To the far side rosebushes lined a path leading to an infinity pool.

  Forget the palazzo. This would make a beautiful setting for a wedding. Well, if you weren’t a royal prince.

  She took pride in the large, lavish weddings she’d planned for hip and rising celebrities, but she took joy in putting together weddings that were cozy gatherings. Yup, give her intimate and tranquil over pomp and circumstance any day of the week.

  “Come up with me.” A spiral wrought-iron staircase took them to the terrace he’d been standing on when he’d hailed her. She followed his tight butt up the steps.

  Good dog, he was fine. His body rivaled any sight she’d seen today. Even the view from the terrace that provided a panoramic vista of everything she’d seen.

  “Impressed yet?” Zach asked behind her left ear.

  “I passed impressed before I reached the pool.”

  “I had my coffee out here this morning. I don’t think I’ve ever spent a more peaceful moment.”

  “I’m jealous.” She stepped away from the heat of his body. She needed her wits about her when she presented her proposition. His assertion they’d be lovers haunted her thoughts. And dreams.

  Oh, she was a weak, weak woman in her dreams.

  As heat flooded her cheeks she focused on the view rather than his features. “I’m afraid I’m about to disrupt your peace.”

  “Pixie, just looking at you disrupts my peace. In the best possible way.” He punctuated the remark by tracing the armhole of her sleeveless peach-and-white polka dot shirt, the backs of his fingers feathering over sensitive flesh.

  She shivered, shaking a finger at him as she created distance between them.
“No touching.”

  He grinned, again unrepentant. “What brings you by today?”

  “I wondered if you wanted to go to the cake tasting with me.” She tossed out her excuse for the spy mission. Men liked cake, right?

  As soon as the words left her mouth, she thought better of her desperate plan. If she worked here, it would be more of his charming flirtation and subtle caresses until she gave in and let him have his wicked way with her. Or she stopped the madness by seducing him on the double lounge down by the pool. Enticing as both scenarios were, neither was acceptable.

  “You know...never mind. I’ve already taken advantage of your generosity. Enjoy your peace. I can handle this on my own.” She turned for the stairs. “I’ll catch you later.”

  The chemistry between them nearly struck sparks in the air. The force of the pull buzzed over her skin like a low-level electrical current. She had it banked at the moment, but the right word or look and it would flare to life in a heartbeat.

  Her best bet was to walk away and find another solution to her problem. One that didn’t tempt her to break her sensible rules and put her company at risk. She purposely brought Kevin to mind, remembered the pain and humiliation of his betrayal and recalled the looks of pity and disapproval on the faces of her friends and colleagues.

  She’d never willingly put herself in that position ever again.

  “Cake.” Zach caught her gently by the elbow. “You can’t tease me with cake and then walk away. It’s one of the few chores regarding this wedding gig I’d actually enjoy.”

  She studied him for a moment before replying. He met her stare straight-on, no hint of flirting in his steady regard. She appreciated his sincerity but still she hesitated.

  “Okay. You’re in. But we have to go now. I have an appointment to view the palazzo this afternoon. Has the rental company replaced your car yet?”

  “No. I have my assistant following up on it. Do we need the helicopter?”

  She shook her head. “The bakery is in town.” She supposed she’d have to follow up on her own rental now. Pulling out her phone, she made a note. “But it’s hot out. My plan is to rent a scooter.”

  A big grin brought out a boyishness in his features. “You don’t have to rent a scooter. There are a couple downstairs in the garage along with something else you might find useful.”

  “What?”

  “Come see.” He strode over to a French door and stepped inside.

  Trailing behind him, she admired the interior almost as much as the exterior. The bedroom they moved through displayed the comfort and luxury of a five-star hotel. Downstairs it became apparent the villa had gone through a modern update. The lounge, dining room and gourmet kitchen opened onto each other via large archways, creating an open-concept format while exposed beams and stone floors retained the old world charm of a Tuscan villa.

  Oh, yeah, she could work here. Too bad it was a no-go.

  Off the kitchen Zach opened a door and went down a half flight of stairs to the garage. He flipped a light and she grinned at what she saw. A sporty black golf cart with a large cargo box in the back filled half the space. On the far side were two red scooters.

  “Sweet. This will work nicely.”

  “Dibs on the cart.”

  She lifted her eyebrows at him. “What are you, ten?”

  “No, I’m six-four. I’d look foolish trying to ride the scooter.”

  Running her gaze over the full length of him, she admired the subtle muscles and sheer brawn of his wide shoulders. She saw his point. He’d look as though he were riding a child’s toy.

  He grunted. “Work with me here, Lindsay. You can’t tell me no touching and then look at me like that.”

  “Sorry,” she muttered. She claimed the passenger seat. Caught.

  * * *

  Turned out wedding planning could be quite tasty. Zach finished the last bite of his sample of the white amaretto cake with the vanilla bean buttercream icing. And way more complicated than it needed to be.

  The baker, a reed-thin woman with a big smile and tired eyes, had six samples set out for them when they’d arrived at the quaint little shop on a cobblestoned street just off the plaza. She’d dusted her hands on her pink ruffled apron and explained what each sample was.

  Lindsay explained Christina had already chosen the style and colors for the cake; their job was to pick out the flavors for the three different layers. It took him five minutes to pick his three favorites. Lindsay agreed with two but not the third. He was happy to let her have her preference, but...no. The baker brought out six more samples, which were all acceptable.

  The fact was they couldn’t go wrong whatever choice they made. There was no reason this appointment needed to be an hour long. But Lindsay insisted the flavors be compatible.

  They were finally done and he was finishing off the samples of his favorites while Lindsay completed the order with the baker up at the counter.

  He’d be taking a back seat on the hands-on stuff from now on. He was a stickler for attention to detail, but efficiency had its place, too.

  The little bell over the door rang as two men strolled in, one tall and bald, the other round and brown-haired. They eyed the goods on display and Zach heard a British slant to their accent.

  He knew immediately when they realized who Lindsay was. They closed in on her, obviously trying to see the plans for the cake. Their interest marked them as two of the media horde invading the town.

  Lindsay politely asked them to step back.

  Baldy moved back a few inches but Brownie made no move to honor her request.

  Zach’s gaze narrowed on the two, waiting to see how Lindsay handled herself. His little pixie had a feisty side. She wouldn’t appreciate his interference. And this may well blow over. All press weren’t bad, but he knew money could make people do things they’d never usually contemplate.

  Ignoring the looming goons, Lindsay wrapped up her business and turned toward him. The media brigade blocked her exit, demanding details about the cake, pestering her for pictures. She tried to push past them but they went shoulder to shoulder, hemming her in.

  In an instant Zach crossed the room.

  “You’re going to want to let her by.”

  “Wait your turn.” Brownie dismissed him. “Come on, sweetcakes, show us something.”

  Sweetcakes?

  “It’s always my turn.” Zach placed a hand on either man’s shoulder and shoved them apart.

  They whirled on him like a mismatched tag team.

  “Back up,” Brownie snarled at Zach’s chest. And then he slowly lifted his gaze to Zach’s. Even Baldy had to look up.

  Zach rolled his thick shoulders. That’s all it usually took. Sure enough, both men took a large step back.

  “Ms. Reeves is with me.” He infused the quiet words with a bite of menace. “I won’t be pleased if I see you bothering her again.”

  “Hey, no disrespect.” Baldy quickly made his exit. Brownie clenched his jaw and slowly followed.

  “Thank you.” Lindsay appeared at his side. “Those two were more aggressive than most.”

  “Are you okay?” He pulled her into his arms. “Do you put up with that often?” He couldn’t tolerate the thought of her being hassled by those media thugs on her own.

  “All the time.” For a moment she stood stiffly, but with a sigh she melted against him. “One of the guys at my hotel offered me a hundred-thousand dollars for a picture of the wedding dress, which means the tabloids are probably willing to pay a million for it.”

  “That explains why you’ve lugged it halfway across the world.”

  “I said it was locked up at the palace. But for a million dollars, I don’t doubt someone might try to check out my room anyway.”

  That did it. He may not support thi
s wedding, but he had his limits. He wouldn’t put his plan, or Tony’s happiness, before Lindsay’s safety. The thought of her vulnerable on her own at the hotel and someone forcing their way into her room sent a primitive wave of rage blasting through him. He had to fix this.

  “You should give up your room at the hotel and stay with me at the villa. It would be safer for you.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “UH, NO.” LINDSAY pushed away from the safety of his arms. Yes, she’d been spooked by the menacing media jerks, but was Zach totally insane? “That is not an option.” She even thought better of asking for work space at the villa. “This—” she waved between the two of them, indicating the chemistry they shared “—makes it a bad idea.”

  “Even I’m picking up on what a big deal this is for the press.” He led her back to their table. “It didn’t really strike me at first. I’m used to photographers hanging around hawking at Antonio for a picture. Some of them can be unscrupulous in their bid for a shot.” He sat back crossing his arms over his chest his gaze intent, focused on her, on the problem. She had a sudden, clear vision of what he’d look like sitting at his desk. “It’s the only solution that makes sense.”

  She sent him a droll stare. “You’re just saying that to get in my pants.”

  “Not so.”

  The bite in the denial sent embarrassed heat rushing through her.

  “Yes, I want in your pants, but not at the expense of your safety.”

  She blinked at him, her emotions taking a moment to catch up with her hearing. Obviously she’d touched a nerve.

  “Okay.”

  “Excellent.” Satisfied, he leaned forward in his chair. “It’s settled. You’ll move into the villa. We’ll find a secure spot for the dress and you can choose a room for yourself and one of the spare rooms for your office. Or you can use the sunroom if you prefer.”

  “No. Wait.” Panicked, she made a sharp cut-off gesture with her hand. “I was acknowledging your comment not agreeing to move in. We need to talk about this.”