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wouldn’t form into anything other than a tight line that barely curved upwards. Nor could she summon up so much as a breezy ‘hi’ for Jesse—the man she’d been friends with all her life, had been able to joke, banter and trade insults with like a brother.

      Jesse pumped Sam’s hand. ‘Sorry, I got held up.’

      ‘No worries,’ said Sam, returning the handshake with equal vigour.

      ‘Kate,’ said Jesse with a friendly nod in her direction, though she didn’t think she was imagining a trace of the same awkwardness in his eyes that she was feeling. ‘So you’ve already met my mate Sam.’

      ‘Yes,’ was all she managed to choke out.

      ‘I see you got the best table in the house,’ Jesse said to Sam, indicating the view with a sweep of his hand.

      ‘And the best deputy manager,’ said Sam gruffly, nodding to Kate.

      ‘Why, thank you,’ she said. For Sam, her smile worked fine, a real smile, not her professional, hospitality smile.

      Jesse cleared his throat in a way she’d never heard before. So he was feeling the awkwardness, too.

      ‘Yes; Kate is, beyond a doubt, awesome,’ he said. Kate recognised the exaggerated casualness of his tone. Would Sam?

      ‘We’re just friends,’ Kate blurted out. She shot a quick glance at Sam to see a bemused lift of his eyebrow.

      ‘Of course we’re just friends,’ Jesse returned, too quickly. He stepped around the table to hug her, as he always did when they met. ‘Kate and I go way back,’ he explained to Sam.

      Kate stiffened as Jesse came near. She doubted she could ever return to their old casual camaraderie. It wasn’t that Jesse had done anything wrong when he’d kissed her. He just hadn’t done anything for her. He was probably a very good kisser for someone else.

      But things had changed and she didn’t want his touch, even in the most casual way. She ducked to slide away.

      Big, big mistake.

      Sam frowned as he glanced from her to Jesse and back again. Kate could see his mental cogs whirring, putting two and two together and coming up with something other than the zero he should be seeing.

      It alarmed her. Because she really wanted Sam Lancaster to know there was nothing between her and Jesse. That she was utterly and completely single.

      ‘Why don’t you join us for lunch?’ Jesse asked, pulling out the third chair around the table.

      No way did she want to make awkward small talk with Jesse. The thought of using her three remaining questions to find out all about Sam Lancaster was appealing—but only when there was just him and her in the conversation.

      She pointed her foot, clad in a black court pump, in the direction of the table. ‘Hear the ball and chain rattling? Ben would have a fit if I downed tools and fraternised with the guests.’

      Did she imagine it, or did Sam’s gaze linger on her leg? She hastily drew it back. ‘Shame,’ he said. He sounded genuinely regretful.

      Not only did she want to walk away as quickly as she could from this uncomfortable situation but she also had her responsibilities to consider. She’d spent way too much time already chatting with Sam. ‘Guys, I have to get back to work. I’ll send a waitress over straight away and tell the chef to fill your order, pronto. I’m sure you both must be hungry.’

      In an ideal world, she’d turn and walk away right now—and not return to this end of the room until both men had gone—but before she went there was wedding business to be dealt with.

      ‘Jesse, will I see you this evening at Ben and Sandy’s house for the wedding-planning meeting? We need to run through your best-man duties.’

      ‘Of course,’ said Jesse. ‘And Sam will be there too.’

      ‘Sam?’ Ben had never mentioned that the Sam on the guest list would be part of the wedding party.

      Sam shrugged those impressively broad shoulders. ‘I’ve got business with Ben. He asked me to come along tonight.’

      She’d anticipated seeing Sam around the hotel, but not seeing him so soon and in a social situation. She couldn’t help a shiver of excitement at the thought. At the same time, she was a little put out she hadn’t been informed of the extra person. Didn’t her friends realise a wedding planner needed to know these things? What other surprises might they spring on her at this late stage?

      Ben hadn’t mentioned employing a carpenter. Were they planning on getting Sam to construct a wooden wedding arch on the beach where the ceremony was to be held? She wished they’d told her. They were counting down six days to the wedding.

      But she would find that out later. Right now she had to get back to work.

      ‘I’ll see you tonight, Kate,’ said Sam.

      Did she imagine the promise she heard in his voice?

      SAM DIDN’T WANT to have anything to do with weddings: whip-wielding wedding planners; mothers-of-the-bride going crazy; brides-to-be in meltdown; over-the-top hysteria all round. It reminded him too much of the ill-fated plans for his own cancelled wedding. Though it had been more than two years since the whole drama, even the word ‘wedding’ still had the power to bring him out in a cold sweat.

      If it hadn’t meant a chance to see Kate again he would have backed right out of the meeting this evening.

      Now he stood on the sand at the bottom of the steps that led down from the hotel to the harbour beach. Jesse’s directions to Ben’s house, where the meeting was to be held, had comprised a vague wave in the general direction to the right of the hotel. He couldn’t see a house anywhere close and wasn’t sure where to go.

      ‘Sam! Wait for me!’

      Sam turned at the sound of Kate’s voice. She stood at the top of the steps, smiling down at him. For a moment all he could do was stare. If he’d thought Kate had looked gorgeous in her waitress garb, in a short, lavender dress that clung to her curves she looked sensational.

      She clattered down the steps as fast as her strappy sandals would allow her, giving him a welcome flash of pale, slender legs. Her hair, set free from its constraints, flowed all wild and wavy around her face and to her shoulders, the fading light of the setting sun illuminating it to burnished copper. She clutched a large purple folder under her arm and had an outsized brown leather bag slung over her shoulder.

      She was animated, vibrant, confident—everything that attracted him to her. So different from his reserved, unemotional ex-fiancée. Or his distant mother, who had made him wonder as he was growing up whether she had wanted a son at all. Whose main interest in him these days seemed to be in how well he managed the company for maximum dollars on her allowance.

      Kate came to a halt next to him, her face flushed. This close, he couldn’t help but notice the tantalising hint of cleavage exposed by the scoop neck of her dress.

      ‘Are you headed to Ben’s place?’ she asked.

      ‘If I knew exactly where it was, yes.’

      ‘Easy,’ she said with a wave to the right, as vague as Jesse’s had been. ‘It’s just down there.’

      ‘Easy for a local. All I see is a boathouse with a dock reaching out into the water.’

      ‘That is the house. I mean, that’s where Ben and his fiancée, Sandy, live.’

      ‘A boathouse?’

      ‘It’s the poshest boathouse you’ve ever seen.’ Her face stilled. ‘It was the only thing left after the fire destroyed the guesthouse where the hotel stands now.’

      ‘Yes. I knew Ben lost his first wife and child in

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