Four Weddings and a Fling (Weddings in Westchester) Page 2

  “You know something?” she said to Lettie. “Ari looks exactly like the cops on those shows.”

  Dark eyes verging on black, framed by even darker brows, with pecs that could crack walnuts and biceps that made women drool. No, she would not drag the back of her hand across to check for tell-tale signs she was doing that now.

  “Then why not get to know him better?” Lettie asked. “You know his family, his background. That’s the perfect guy to have some fun with.”

  “Guys like that are just fantasies, Let. Guys who in olden times would’ve been knights, scooping damsels in distress onto white steeds and galloping off into the sunset—whether the damsel liked it or not.”

  “Wouldn’t mind being scooped onto a horse by a guy like that,” Lettie said. “Hell, I’d lie draped over his skateboard if a guy got all knightish on me.”

  Grace chuckled. “You and I know that guys like Ari Katsalos are controlling and demanding.” They caused her to make bad decisions for herself, and she wanted nothing more to do with them.

  “Okay, hun,” Lettie said. “You keep on telling yourself that you can resist a guy like Ari. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

  “I’d better go and finish up for the day,” Grace said. “Let’s meet at the shop tomorrow, and we can go over a plan for the week.”

  Grace ended the call but sat thinking about what Lettie had said. Whenever she’d been around Ari, she could sense his eyes on her, feel his body calling her name, and although in the old days her body would’ve called right on back before her brain could even register, now she fought those feelings. This time, things would be different.

  Marrying someone who, as it had turned out, wanted to control every part of her life had made her swear off the testosterone-plus type like Ari for good.

  She and Mark had had incredible chemistry in the beginning, but then the warning signs began to appear. He’d tell her what lipstick to wear, not to cut her hair because it was frumpy, and then he started telling her who she should and shouldn’t be mixing with. When he’d demanded she stop work because it took her attention away from their life together, she’d known their marriage was over for good. She’d been blind to that side of Mark, and it meant she’d need to always be on high alert for people like him—people who had bigger egos than any relationship could sustain, and who’d do what it took to get what they wanted.

  Next time around, she needed a soul mate, someone dependable and empathetic. A partner. Someone who’d always have her back and someone who’d give her the freedom to be who she wanted. Next time she’d recognize that chemical connection to a guy as exactly what it was—danger.

  She walked out of her office and across the paved courtyard to the restaurant. The late August sun still burned brightly and reflected the brilliant purple of the bougainvillea against the function center’s whitewashed walls.

  It was hard to believe they were in Westchester, New York. On a day like this, they could be in Greece, which was just the atmosphere Mano and Pia had wanted to create when they’d built this place decades ago.

  She stopped by Monty’s cage and reached into her pocket for a peanut. “Chronia polla,” she said in her best parrot voice. The Greek-speaking bird had become a Palace favorite. On cue, he could say chronia polla—“many happy years”—to the wedding couple as they strolled past, and according to Mano some of the younger guests had even taught him how to cuss.

  Chronia polla. Chronia polla. The parrot flew to the side of the cage but didn’t take the nut as he usually would.

  “Have those workmen been feeding you again?” she said as she scratched his cheek. He fluffed himself out, and she noticed a scattering of feathers on the ground. She’d get someone to clean his cage in the morning. “Looks like I’ll be seeing a bit more of you after all,” she said as she stroked the bright green of his cheek.

  Monty stuck his beak through the bars, and she patted it before heading toward the restaurant.

  She opened the door and nearly stepped right back out again. Ari was in the middle of the room amongst tables and chairs.

  On a ladder.

  Naked from the waist up.

  “Hey,” he said, tossing her a grin that shot a bolt of fire through every internal organ. He resumed what he was doing to something on the ceiling. “Finishing up soon?”

  Her breath hitched. “Soon,” she managed as she tried to focus on anything but Ari’s perfect abs.

  As soon as I can remember my name and how to start breathing again.

  “Just a couple more things to do.” She swallowed, her gaze fixed on the bright tattoo completely covering the upper part of his right arm and spreading onto his chest. His biceps flexed as he screwed in a fitting on the ceiling fan, and the images rippled across his skin. What were they of? All she knew was that she had to rip her eyes away.

  Now, how to go back out without tripping over anything?

  Clearing her throat, she pretended to rearrange some chairs. “I didn’t realize you were here. Theo usually does that sort of thing.”

  He pulled a T-shirt from where it had been hooked into his jeans and wiped his face, the muscles across his stomach—God help her—rippling with the movement. “We’re not spending any money we don’t have to. I can fix the fan. How are the weddings for this weekend tracking?”

  “I’ll open a window,” she said, grateful for an excuse to cross to the other side of the room. “Everything’s set. I thought you’d be busy at your office downtown.”

  “Hardly an office,” he said.

  She opened a latch, pushed the window outward, and breathed in fresh air. “What sort of PI work do you do?”

  He finished what he was doing, tucked the T-shirt back into his jeans, and moved down the ladder. “Catch people cheating on their spouse. I thought the city was bad, but my phone’s been running red hot since the word got out I’m in town for a while.”

  He moved closer, and Grace’s hormones sat up and begged. Her eyes fixed on the tattoo across the right side of his body. There were brilliant reds, yellows, and blues, a detailed series of figures close together. Were they Greek gods?

  Don’t drool. Don’t drool.

  Sex on legs didn’t come close—he was a walking fantasy.

  Mano and Pia hadn’t seen much of their eldest son Nick over the years, and although they talked about Ari a lot, he hadn’t been around much, either, except once when he dropped in while Nick was running the place. The time before that, he’d asked her on a date, and if she’d been sane she’d have said no, but she’d gone through with it. As the evening had gone on, he seemed more and more confident, and her skin became warmer every time he looked at her. She’d cut it short to prevent herself doing something she’d regret—like kiss him and never stop.

  This morning’s horoscope flashed in her mind: You’ve worked too hard to be diverted by the charms of temptation. Keep your eyes on the prize. An unexpected disaster will bring endless fortune.

  Yes, if Ari Katsalos was one thing, it was a package of Grade-A temptation, and it appeared he’d been thrown into her path to test her resolve to move on from men like him. Well, it would take more than a godlike body and a few lines of sexy charm to get her to stray from her path. If he was the unexpected disaster, then all she needed to concentrate on was the endless fortune that clearly lay ahead.

  She stood tall and moved between the tables, already covered with white tablecloths for the weekend, relieved to see him pulling the T-shirt from the back of his jeans again.

  “How often will you be here in the next few weeks?” she asked as she picked up a tray of candles, ready to place them in the center of the tables.

  He gave a small shrug. “Just when you need me, I guess.” His phone rang, and he pulled it from his pocket and answered. “Hey, bro.”

  Grace busied herself with the candles while Ari talked to his brother Nick, who was visiting their parents in Greece.

  “Yep, everything’s fine here.” He threw a grin.

 
There was a long silence before Ari said, “Wow, that’s great, but why so soon?”

  He nodded to whatever his brother was saying, and Grace moved toward the door to give him some privacy, but he held up a hand to indicate she shouldn’t leave. “Yep, she’s here. Want to talk to her?”

  He paused again and winked at her. An actual, old-fashioned wink. Melting into a puddle on the floor was completely possible right now.

  “Okay, let me know when your flight gets in, and if there’s anything I can do to help get things organized.” He paused then laughed loudly. “Yeah, you’re right. I was only being polite.”

  Grinning, he passed the phone to Grace. When she held it to her ear there was a moment’s silence before Erin O’Malley spoke. They’d gotten to know each other a little when Nick was running the Palace and he and Erin had a wager to win a big contract, but she didn’t know her well enough for a special phone call from Greece.

  “I was so excited when Ari called last night and told us your news,” Erin said. “I know you’ll do brilliantly in your own business, and it couldn’t have been more perfect timing for me.”

  Grace sighed quietly in relief. She’d been so worried the Katsalos family would feel she’d let them all down with her decision to leave. “Why’s that?”

  Ari’s gaze was trained on her face, so she had to focus hard on what Erin was saying. She concentrated on a window in the distance.

  “We’ve decided to come home and get married straight away, and I would love it if you could do the planning for me.”

  Her heart stopped. Planning the wedding that—because of the much-publicized wager—was going to be the social event of the season? It was almost too much to hope for.

  “I…are you sure? I would’ve thought you’d want to organize it yourself,” she heard herself say.

  Erin laughed lightly. “The thing is, Nick and I have decided we want to be married as soon as possible, and of course we’ll have to have it at O’Malley’s, so I’m going to need someone on the ground to get things started for me.”

  “What sort of date were you thinking?”

  There was silence, and for a second Grace wondered if they’d been cut off. “Two weeks from Saturday.”

  She swallowed swiftly as Ari grinned back at her.

  “You know,” Erin said slowly, “if it’s too much for you I completely under­—”

  “Erin, I’d love to!”

  Could she do it? There were two weddings this weekend, and so much stuff to organize for her new business, and she suspected Ari was going to be only slightly more than useless in the organization department. But it could be just the start her new business needed. All the publicity they’d get from Wedding World, the magazine who’d covered the wager—she couldn’t ask for a better start.

  “If I can get Ari to help me around here for the next couple of weeks, then I’m sure we can make things work. Thank you so much for having faith in me.”

  “Oh, I’m so pleased and, to be honest, relieved. And Nick will be over the moon. He said it just wouldn’t be the same without you involved. He wants to take me to Rome on the way home to choose my dress, so I think we’ll be home this weekend, but I have all my ideas in an email ready to send to you. My sister Faith will be in touch about a few things, and of course you know Leo really well, so coordinating the food won’t be a problem. Oh, Grace, you don’t know what it means to me.”

  After a few more plans and the promise she’d call again tomorrow, Erin said bye and Grace was left standing with the phone in her hand.

  “Can you believe it?” she said, her voice breathy. “I knew they were engaged, but I didn’t think they’d get married this quickly.”

  Ari shrugged a shoulder. “What can I say? People lose their heads when it comes to love. It’s what keeps bread on my table.”

  So cynical. “Do you think that means your mom and dad will come home?” she said to his back as he folded the ladder.

  We’re talking. Actual words. And I can do it without drooling or sounding like an idiot.

  “My mom would sooner walk over hot coals than miss Nick’s wedding, so absolutely they’ll be here.” He shot her a toe-curling smile.

  “You think your parents will be home for good?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t know. An unexpected wedding to plan is gonna be a lot of extra work for you now, so I’ll try and be around as much as possible ’til everyone gets home.”

  “Oh, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she said, switching between panic and elation at the opportunities in front of her. Truthfully, she was starting to wonder how she could manage. Maybe she would need some more help from Ari.

  “I can see how important this is, and I want to be here for you,” he said as one of his slow, warm grins lit his face. “I can put a hold on a couple of my cases to spend more time here. Besides, you and me here together? What could possibly go wrong?”

  Chapter Two

  “Ari, can you call the lighting guy and tell him the spots on the banquet table aren’t working? When you’ve done that, can you ask Polly why the gold ones weren’t delivered with the rest of the sugared almonds yesterday, please. Tomorrow’s bride said it’s a tradition in her family to scatter gold almonds on the tables for good luck, and I’d hate for her to walk in and not see them here. She’s stopping by this afternoon, so I want to make sure they’re here for her.” Grace picked up a stepladder and moved it to one of the columns in the room. “And why does this ribbon keep coming unstuck?” She stabbed at the material.

  “Let me help,” Ari said as he moved closer, impressed by her energy levels—and the fact she could talk so much without taking a breath. As they’d worked together this morning, he’d become increasingly aware of Grace—the way she took charge and made decisions, so organized, and with a spark in her eyes. Sometimes he’d stood where she’d walked just so he could breathe in her floral scent. In quiet moments, he’d catch her scribbling in a notebook or making a phone call to one of her friends, and her face lit with excitement every time she spoke of her new business.

  “I’ve got it,” she said and was on the third rung of the ladder before he could reach her. She picked up a piece of ribbon hanging loose and turned back to him. “Can you pass me some of that tape on the table?” She blinked. He’d never seen such long lashes. They kicked up at the ends and were lush against her olive skin. But the dark smudges under her eyes said she was stressed by all this. He was glad he’d put a few of his cases on hold—it’d mean he could be here a lot more before his family got back.

  She turned away, and he ripped a piece of clear tape from a roll on the table. Everything was a blinding sea of white, the only relief the bright red and gold table decorations and large sashes of gold across the main table—and Grace standing on a ladder like a sexy center piece in the middle of it all. A slinky blue top hugged every curve from her full breasts to her rounded hips and finished at the top of pants. Her hair was expertly pinned at the back of her head, not a strand out of place. What he wouldn’t do to make it all messy.

  He focused on her glossy lips as she turned back and began talking to him again. He handed her the tape. How good would those lips feel under his own?

  “Are you listening? Do you remember what I asked you to do?” she asked, smiling as she taped the ribbon into place. “I swear, sometimes I can see you wishing yourself a lobotomy rather having to deal with all this.”

  If she only knew what I was wishing. He shrugged. “Lights?”

  She blew out an exasperated breath. “Scorpios.”

  “Sorry?”

  “You’re a Scorpio.” She looked down at him. “Your mom told me about delivering you in a snowstorm just before Thanksgiving.”

  He grinned. She’d been talking with his mother about him? What else had his mom said? “Not a good star sign for wedding planning, then?”

  She bit her lip and studied him. “You like to be involved, but you’re not so good on the details or at toeing the line.”

 
; “That’d be right.” He chuckled. “I’d rather scoop my eyeballs out with a blunt spoon than have to count napkins and polish champagne glasses all day. What sign are you?” He leaned against the column, now intrigued as all hell by astrology, despite never giving it a second’s thought before.

  “Libra,” she said. “The one with the scales. Trying to make everything balanced and hoping everyone has a great time. Perfect for wedding planning.” She finished taping the ribbon and had started down when her foot slipped and the ladder wobbled. He reached out and grabbed her, but when he set her on the floor, he didn’t let go.

  “I find balancing overrated,” he said with a grin, and her blue eyes rounded. “Far more fun when things are unpredictable.” She smelled of spring flowers and bubble bath, and he held her closer, the bare skin of her arms smooth under his fingers. “Are they a good match, Scorpios and Libras?”

  Her lips parted as she started to pull away. “Scorpio and Libra?” She shook her head as she studied his left shoulder. “No. Scorpios have a dark and intense side, and Libras would rather keep things lighter. More realistic. Not a good match at all.” She stepped from his grip as a trail of pink swept across her cheek.

  “Dark and intense?” Was she referring to a textbook on star signs, or was that how she really saw him? The way she was looking everywhere but directly at him suggested this was her own little personality profile for him, and it set his blood simmering.

  “Apparently.” She picked up the pen and clipboard from the table and surveyed the room, and he could see her doing an internal balancing act. She was definitely attracted to him, he was certain of it, but there was some sort of war going on within her. The Scorpio in him was itching to test it.