The Wedding Planner

by Millie Criswell

  Groaning like a man in the throes of torture, Adam moved his hands restlessly down her back, over her firm buttocks, losing himself in the sweetness of their kiss, in the sweetness that was Meredith.

  “Watcha doing?”

  Adam’s hands, which were about to further explore the mysteries of Meredith’s ripe breasts, froze, as did the rest of him.

  Exchanging horrified glances, the couple broke apart guiltily and righted themselves, before turning to face a very inquisitive six-year-old who was staring wide-eyed at them.

  “How come you were lying on top of Uncle Adam, Meredith?”

  Meredith’s face felt as hot as every other part of her anatomy. Mercy, the man could kiss!

  She swallowed hard. “Your uncle was just—” What? Kissing me senseless? Turning my insides to mush? “—helping me find one of my earrings, sweetie. That’s all.

  “Isn’t that right, Adam?”

  Wearing a pained expression, he nodded, crossing his legs and forcing a tight smile. His voice was rather high-pitched when he answered, “That’s right. Meredith’s earring.” He made great pretense of searching the sofa cushions, coming up empty-handed. “It must be around here somewhere.”

  Meredith studied those hands that had so recently been touching her breasts and swallowed, thinking Megan had either very poor timing or had just saved her from making a huge mistake. She hadn’t decided which.

  “Don’t bother. I’ll look for it tomorrow.”

  Their eyes locked. Meredith’s face grew warm again. Adam’s mouth curved into a soft smile, then, scooping his niece up in his arms, he kissed her on the cheek.

  “It’s time we let Meredith get to bed, Megan.” Wanting nothing more than to join her there, he let loose a frustrated sigh. “Why don’t you gather up your things, so we can get going?” A blast of frigid air might be his only salvation.

  The child held out her arms, and Meredith obliged by hugging her tightly. “Thank you,” she said. “I had a very nice time.” Pressing her lips against Meredith’s ear, she whispered, “I think Uncle Adam did, too. He doesn’t usually smile like that.”

  Meredith bit back a grin. “I’m sure he did, sweetie. Now run, fetch your things.”

  By the time the child disappeared into the other room, Adam had reverted back to…well, Adam. He was in control. Reserved. All business. Meredith felt a twinge of disappointment. She rather liked the spontaneous, uninhibited version of the millionaire.

  “I guess I’ll see you on Monday,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets—hands that wanted to caress, to explore, to finish what they’d started. “I assume you have more interviews to conduct?”

  She tried to appear as unemotional and nonchalant as he, but considering that their tongues had recently been doing the mating mambo, it was difficult. “I do. Shall I come over in the evening as usual?”

  He nodded. “Come for dinner. That way we’ll have much more time to—” his pause was heavy with expectation “—look at the candidates’ videos.”

  At the blatant desire she saw in his eyes—desire that mirrored her own, Meredith swallowed, not once but twice. “All right.” Was that her voice that sounded so breathless?

  After Adam and Megan had left, Meredith sprinted into the bathroom and turned on the shower to its coldest setting. She got in, clothes and all, allowing the frigid water to splash her full in the face, hoping it would shock some sense into her.

  Kissing Adam had been totally irrational and unprofessional.

  But wonderful!

  It was by far the stupidest thing she’d ever done.

  But definitely the most satisfying!

  Would she live to regret it?

  Probably.

  “HOW DID YOUR DATE with Peter go Saturday night?” Meredith asked Sally. Unbuttoning her coat, she hung it on the hook behind the door in the back room, while waiting for her assistant to pour the morning’s jolt of caffeine.

  She needed something to keep her awake. She hadn’t slept well these past two nights. Not since Adam had kissed her, made her aware that her body needed more than coffee and chocolate to sustain her. Her toes tingled just thinking about what had transpired between them.

  A spoon clattered noisily to the floor, and Meredith glanced over at her red-faced companion, wondering what had made her so uncomfortable. The woman looked ready to cry.

  “It wasn’t a date,” Sally protested. “Peter and I are just friends. I’m not ready for anything more.” Though she’d been tempted to kiss Peter good-night when he’d walked her to the door. He’d wanted to kiss her. She’d seen the yearning in his eyes, felt and was flattered by the blatant interest he held for her, but she just couldn’t take the next step.

  Not yet.

  Maybe not ever.

  Dwayne had robbed her of much more than material possessions when he’d left. Her ex-fiancé had taken away her self-confidence, trust in men and desire for sexual entanglements. He’d left behind a woman who was hollow inside, whose heart and soul had been beaten out of her, who no longer trusted her own instincts when it came to members of the opposite sex.

  “I didn’t mean to pry. I’m sorry.”

  Sally smiled softly, handing her employer a steaming mug of French roast. “I don’t mind, Meredith, truly I don’t. It’s just—I don’t think I’ll ever be able to be with a man in that way again.”

  Meredith felt compassion for her friend, knowing how hard it was to rebuild self-confidence once it was lost. She wasn’t exactly oozing with the stuff herself. “Don’t be silly,” she said, wrapping an arm about her waist. “You’ve got too much heart to let that stupid ex-fiancé of yours get the better of you. I know in time you’ll bounce back.”

  “But—”

  Holding up her hand, Meredith was determined not to allow Sally to make excuses for herself. “I can only imagine the hell you’ve been through. But that’s all behind you now. You’ve got to look forward, build a new life, find a new man.”

  The blonde didn’t look convinced. “Trust me. They’re not all they’re cracked up to be.”

  “Your ex was just a loser. You haven’t kissed enough frogs yet. Prince Charming may just wear a Brooks Brothers’ suit.” Or Armani, she added silently.

  “I didn’t kiss Peter. He wanted to kiss me, I could tell. But I just couldn’t bring myself to—”

  “If you don’t feel that way about Peter, then you shouldn’t feel obliged to kiss him. You don’t owe him anything beyond gratitude.”

  Sally eased herself onto the cracked-vinyl-covered stool, and her deep sigh held a multitude of emotions. “Peter doesn’t expect anything. He’s not like that. I wanted to kiss him. Deep in my heart I wanted to. But I just couldn’t.”

  “You’ve got to give yourself time to heal, sweetie. I don’t think our handsome lawyer is going anywhere anytime soon. I have the feeling he’s as taken with you as you are with him.”

  Cheeks filled with color, Sally’s expression grew hopeful. “Do you think so? I mean—he’s so nice. I wish you could have seen him with Andrew. The man’s a natural with kids.” The memory brought a wistful smile to her lips.

  “Unlike poor Adam,” Meredith said, thinking out loud.

  “So, how was your day with Megan? Did you two have a good time?”

  Heat rose to Meredith’s cheeks, despite her best efforts to conceal her embarrassment. “This coffee is really hot.” She fanned her face, hoping Sally wouldn’t notice, but the woman was too perceptive.

  “Come on. Tell me what’s going on. You’ve got that tongue-hanging-out-of-your-mouth look.” Her eyes twinkled knowingly. “Did something happen between you and our staid millionaire?”

  “He’s not so staid.”

  Eyes widening, Sally grinned. “Really? Now this sounds interesting.”

  “Nothing happened. Well, not exactly nothing. We kissed.”

  “Standing or reclining?”

  “Flatter than a pancake. We were on the sofa, and I nailed him with a flying tack
le.”

  “You attacked the Prince of Darkness?”

  “I prefer to think of him as Daddy Warbucks.”

  “Oh, wow!”

  “Exactly. And you’d better keep this just between us, because if Randall gets wind, I’ll never hear the end of it. He’s not an Adam Morgan devotee. Except for his clothes. Randall does covet Adam’s clothing.”

  “And you covet his body. Seems fair to me.”

  Blushing, Meredith replied, “What’s not to like? For a man who sits behind a desk all day, and whose only form of entertainment seems to be model trains, he’s in great shape.” His lips were certainly in primo condition.

  “Perhaps there’s more to the handsome millionaire than just his money.”

  Meredith was certain Sally was right, and she intended to find out just how much more at dinner that evening.

  STANDING SHIRTLESS at the gilt-framed bathroom mirror, Adam wiped the condensation from the glass with the heel of his hand before continuing shaving. Because of his heavy beard growth, he preferred a razor to an electric shaver. Filling his palm with a large dollop of white foamy cream, he lathered it onto his face and neck.

  Andrew, who was seated on the rim of the tub, seemed fascinated by the whole shaving process, his eyes following Adam’s every movement. “Where’re you going tonight, Uncle Adam? How come you’re shaving two times in one day? You don’t always do that.”

  Scraping the blade down his jaw, he thought of Meredith’s imminent arrival and nearly nicked himself. “Damn!”

  In the mirror he saw the child’s eyes widen, and he berated himself silently for using such harsh language in front of him. It was up to Adam to set an example for the children. He was all they had left now.

  Andrew resembled his mother a great deal, and Adam’s chest swelled with love, pride and sadness that the little boy would forever be deprived of Allison’s gentle touch and sweet smile. She’d been a very good mother. A far better mother than Tremayne had been a father.

  Adam knew what it was like to be ignored, to take second place to business meetings, social engagements and his mother’s constant demands. His father hadn’t had much time left to lavish on him when he was growing up, and he intended to try very hard not to make the same mistakes with Andrew and Megan. Tonight would be the exception, not the rule.

  “I have a meeting tonight, Andrew,” he finally explained, swallowing his bitterness. “Mrs. Fishburn’s going to drop you and Megan off at Peter’s tonight. You’ll be staying the night, and he’ll take you to school in the morning.”

  “Who’s the meeting with? How come you’re splashing that smelly stuff all over your face? My dad used to do that.”

  Adam paused, aftershave in hand, and faced the child. “Would you like to try some?”

  The boy contemplated the offer, then wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “Nah. I mean—no, thanks. I don’t wanna wear no smelly perfume stuff. That’s for girls and sissies.”

  Hoping the child wasn’t lumping him into either category, Adam replied, “Someday you’ll want girls to think you smell nice.”

  A mischievous grin split Andrew’s face. “I bet Meredith’s coming over here tonight. That’s why you’re putting on that smelly stuff.”

  Adam was amused at the young boy’s perceptiveness. “Meredith’s coming for dinner, then we’re going to watch more of the bridal videos. It’s a business meeting.”

  “Are you gonna kiss her again? Megan said you were mouth to mouth over at Meredith’s house. That means you were kissing.”

  Heat rose up Adam’s neck to land on his cheeks. “I could have been giving her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation for all you know. And you shouldn’t be listening to the tales of a six-year-old.”

  “Then you weren’t kissing her?”

  “I didn’t say that.” A headache started to form, and he rubbed the back of his neck to ease the tension.

  “Are you going to give her a baby?” Andrew asked, and Adam gasped, his mouth dropping open. “Davey Morris’s mother is gonna have a baby, and Davey said his dad put the baby inside her. How’d he do that, Uncle Adam? How’d that baby get inside Mrs. Morris?”

  In the bedroom Adam wondered if he should just lock himself in the closet until Andrew reached adulthood. Sighing at the absurd and cowardly thought, he dropped to the bed, unsure of what to say. “Uh. Well…I mean…”

  The child flashed him a disappointed look. “Don’t you know? Davey’s dad knows. Maybe I should ask him.”

  Adam patted the space next to him. “Of course I know how babies are made, Andrew. I just didn’t think we’d be having this talk so soon, that’s all.” Actually, he’d hoped that they would never have to have it. But then, did he want his nephew to learn about sex from his snickering classmates, the way Adam had?

  His parents’ idea of sex education had been to insist that Adam read the Bible, beginning with the Old Testament. And though he’d been titillated by some of it, all that begetting had confused him.

  “On TV, the man and woman lie down on the bed, then the man gets on top of her and jumps around a bit, then the woman gets a baby in her. Is that right?”

  The innocence on the child’s face humbled him. “There’s a bit more to it than that, son. You see, first two people need to love each other, then they get married, before they—”

  “But those people on TV aren’t always married, Uncle Adam. Sometimes they hardly know each other and zap,” he snapped his fingers, “the man’s jumping around.”

  Adam made a mental note to restrict Andrew and Megan’s television viewing. “It’s like this, Andrew—you don’t necessarily have to be married, but you should be. When two people love each other they should get married before making any babies.”

  “But you’re getting married, Uncle Adam. And you don’t even know any of those women you might have to jump on top of. Except for Meredith. You know her. Why don’t you marry Meredith, Uncle Adam? Then you can give her a baby.” Andrew’s face brightened at the idea.

  What he wouldn’t do for a drink right now, Adam thought, his temples pounding. “Grown-up relationships are rather complicated, son. Meredith and I are business associates. I like her, of course, but—”

  Hmm. Marry Meredith.

  “But you kissed her.”

  Heaving a sigh, Adam tried to explain. “Sometimes a man and a woman kiss, but—”

  “Andrew, it’s time to go.”

  Mrs. Fishburn’s voice floated up the stairs at that moment, and a relieved Adam silently blessed the woman for her timing. “You’d better hurry, Andrew. You don’t want to keep Mrs. Fishburn waiting. We’ll continue our talk another time, okay?”

  The child shrugged. “Okay. But if you decide to give Meredith a baby tonight, I want you to tell me about it. Promise.”

  In as controlled a voice as he could muster, Adam said, “I am not giving Meredith a baby. Now run along, or Mrs. Fishburn will leave without you.” God forbid.

  Unexpectedly, the small boy stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. “G’night, Uncle Adam. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Goodnight, son.” Absently patting his cheek where the child’s lips had so recently been, Adam heaved a deep sigh. Parenting was a lot tougher, a whole lot more complicated, than he’d originally thought.

  He not only had to be a father to his sister’s children, he had to be their teacher and guidance counselor, overseeing what they watched on TV, read in books, and who they associated with.

  And he had to set an example for what was proper, moral behavior.

  Good grief! The latter was going to be difficult, if not impossible.

  Meredith would be arriving at any moment, and Adam wasn’t sure he had enough willpower to resist kissing her again, to keep from exploring all the lovely hills and valleys of her body, to keep from lying on top of her and doing a little “jumping around.”

  Chapter Nine

  Staring wide-eyed at the image on the television screen, Adam didn’t bother to hide his
disgust. The woman had yellow—not blond but yellow—short, spiked hair, wore camouflage pants, combat boots and looked as if she could press at least 350 pounds with one hand tied behind her back.

  He’d always considered himself to be in good physical condition—he swam almost every day—but the woman in the video made him feel like a 190-pound weakling.

  “Are these women for real?” he asked. “Or are you just making them up?” Adam suspected Meredith was only showing him the very worst candidates. Surely there had to be one normal woman left in the world he could marry.

  Meredith smiled innocently. “I assure you Miss Wallace—Randall calls her G.I. Jane—is a perfectly legitimate candidate. She responded after your last television interview, said she could whip you into shape in no time. Not that you aren’t in good shape,” she added quickly when his brows rose to his hairline. “You seem very well developed to me.”

  “So do you.” His eyes caressed her with agonizing thoroughness, and Meredith felt her face heat and her nipples harden. She wished now she hadn’t worn the revealing backless sundress. It was hardly appropriate attire for a business meeting, or a Morgantown spring evening—it was actually quite chilly outside. But the slinky black dress had always made her feel sexy, and she needed to boost her self-confidence, which had been flagging lately.

  Interviewing all those gorgeous, intelligent women had taken its toll. She felt dowdy as a brown wren and dumb as a box of rocks compared to most of them. Some had Ph.D.s; she had good intentions.

  Adam would never view most of the videos she’d filmed and never meet the candidates. Just because the women were pretty and smart didn’t mean they were right for the millionaire. It was her responsibility—her duty—to weed them out, and Meredith took that responsibility very seriously. It might take a few more business meetings to find just the right person.

  As much as they both pretended that tonight was a typical business meeting, Meredith knew it was anything but. The staff had been given the night off, the kids were staying overnight at Peter’s house, and she had yet to be served dinner, although it was nearly half past eight.