it?
All right, what next? Time to consult the wedding bible. I put the computer on the floor, pulled out the fat book I’d bought, and skimmed the first chapter. Realizing I was squinting—my vision got worse when I was tired—I put on my reading glasses.
Then I retrieved the computer to make more notes. Under Item, I typed Legalities. For target date I put a?. Then I typed the notes, No blood tests are required because both are of age and Canadian citizens. Need marriage license. Where/when/ who can get it? Do online search? Does Merilee already know?
I consulted the book again, then went back to my project plan and typed, Officiant. ASAP. If wedding outside, who can officiate? Religious or civil? M probably doesn’t care, so long as it’s romantic. “White lace, pretty flowers, romantic promises. That’s what she wants.”
“Your sister?” Day’s groggy voice almost made me toss my computer in the air.
6
D amien grinned at the shocked expression on Theresa’a face.
“Don’t do that to me,” she said, staring at him above her reading glasses, one hand planted over her heart. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I was.” He reached over and touched her arm, because it was hard to look at her and not touch her. Her mumbling had woken him, but she was so damned cute, he couldn’t be annoyed. The woman was definitely intriguing. Smart, sassy, sexy, sensual—but then she had those less sophisticated traits, like blushing and muttering to herself, that made her even more appealing.
And she was so much fun to tease. “Yeah, but it was hard to sleep through all that stuff about licenses and officiants and white lace. What the hell’s an officiant anyway?”
Her face scrunched up in embarrassment and she pulled off the glasses. “Was I talking to myself? Sorry. An officiant is the person who officiates at a wedding.”
“You academics know all the big words,” he teased.
She reached down and hefted a book that must have weighed five pounds. “Believe me, I know only about a hundredth of what’s in this book. I could have happily lived the rest of my life without learning the rest.”
He glanced at the title, which read Planning for Perfection: The Wedding Planner’s Bible . “Your sister’s getting married this month and you have to do all the stuff in that book? What are you, some kind of miracle-worker?”
“Of course I can’t do all of it. But I don’t want to miss anything important, and I want to have as many of the frilly touches as possible. Merilee’s that kind of girl.” She wrinkled her nose ruefully. “She’s pretty much my opposite.”
Yes, Theresa was feminine and sexy, but not the frilly type. She had the kind of look that went with the bridal gown they’d both admired.
He’d like to see Theresa in a dress. Not a wedding dress, of course. A sundress would be good. Pity she was connecting on to Vancouver—as he’d gathered from her conversations with her sisters—rather than stopping over in Honolulu like he was. He could find some mighty fine ways of killing a day and a night in Hawaii with this woman.
Could he persuade her to change her plans? Though she was conscientious about the wedding, she’d been as into their under-the-blanket play as he had.
He imagined the two of them sharing the oceanside hotel room he’d booked. Of him stretching Theresa out on the bed with the balcony doors open and a soft ocean breeze drifting in. Removing her clothes slowly, one by one, watching her chest flush, her nipples perk up…
He drifted back to sleep, and horny dreams.
When Damien woke again, it wasn’t to muttering. Theresa had put her computer and book away and was stretched back in her seat, sleep mask across her eyes, blanket draping her. Sleeping as neatly and efficiently as he imagined she did pretty much everything.
Except sex. That was one place where she seemed less in control, more spontaneous. Thank God.
He’d love to know what she could really be like,
All right, what next? Time to consult the wedding bible. I put the computer on the floor, pulled out the fat book I’d bought, and skimmed the first chapter. Realizing I was squinting—my vision got worse when I was tired—I put on my reading glasses.
Then I retrieved the computer to make more notes. Under Item, I typed Legalities. For target date I put a?. Then I typed the notes, No blood tests are required because both are of age and Canadian citizens. Need marriage license. Where/when/ who can get it? Do online search? Does Merilee already know?
I consulted the book again, then went back to my project plan and typed, Officiant. ASAP. If wedding outside, who can officiate? Religious or civil? M probably doesn’t care, so long as it’s romantic. “White lace, pretty flowers, romantic promises. That’s what she wants.”
“Your sister?” Day’s groggy voice almost made me toss my computer in the air.
6
D amien grinned at the shocked expression on Theresa’a face.
“Don’t do that to me,” she said, staring at him above her reading glasses, one hand planted over her heart. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I was.” He reached over and touched her arm, because it was hard to look at her and not touch her. Her mumbling had woken him, but she was so damned cute, he couldn’t be annoyed. The woman was definitely intriguing. Smart, sassy, sexy, sensual—but then she had those less sophisticated traits, like blushing and muttering to herself, that made her even more appealing.
And she was so much fun to tease. “Yeah, but it was hard to sleep through all that stuff about licenses and officiants and white lace. What the hell’s an officiant anyway?”
Her face scrunched up in embarrassment and she pulled off the glasses. “Was I talking to myself? Sorry. An officiant is the person who officiates at a wedding.”
“You academics know all the big words,” he teased.
She reached down and hefted a book that must have weighed five pounds. “Believe me, I know only about a hundredth of what’s in this book. I could have happily lived the rest of my life without learning the rest.”
He glanced at the title, which read Planning for Perfection: The Wedding Planner’s Bible . “Your sister’s getting married this month and you have to do all the stuff in that book? What are you, some kind of miracle-worker?”
“Of course I can’t do all of it. But I don’t want to miss anything important, and I want to have as many of the frilly touches as possible. Merilee’s that kind of girl.” She wrinkled her nose ruefully. “She’s pretty much my opposite.”
Yes, Theresa was feminine and sexy, but not the frilly type. She had the kind of look that went with the bridal gown they’d both admired.
He’d like to see Theresa in a dress. Not a wedding dress, of course. A sundress would be good. Pity she was connecting on to Vancouver—as he’d gathered from her conversations with her sisters—rather than stopping over in Honolulu like he was. He could find some mighty fine ways of killing a day and a night in Hawaii with this woman.
Could he persuade her to change her plans? Though she was conscientious about the wedding, she’d been as into their under-the-blanket play as he had.
He imagined the two of them sharing the oceanside hotel room he’d booked. Of him stretching Theresa out on the bed with the balcony doors open and a soft ocean breeze drifting in. Removing her clothes slowly, one by one, watching her chest flush, her nipples perk up…
He drifted back to sleep, and horny dreams.
When Damien woke again, it wasn’t to muttering. Theresa had put her computer and book away and was stretched back in her seat, sleep mask across her eyes, blanket draping her. Sleeping as neatly and efficiently as he imagined she did pretty much everything.
Except sex. That was one place where she seemed less in control, more spontaneous. Thank God.
He’d love to know what she could really be like,
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