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James Bond had zip on this guy.

      She looped her loose spiral of hair behind an ear. ‘When did you decide you wanted to get married?’

      ‘Tonight.’

      She hiked a brow. ‘This from a guy who won’t act on impulse?’

      His sexy grin said, Touché. ‘I’ve known Noah since school. We lost touch until recently. Seeing him get settled made me realise I’m not getting any younger. I want a wife. A son. It’s time.’ He turned to face the view and rest his forearms on the railing. ‘And you? I’m sure at some stage you want children.’

      Hands cushioning the small of her back, Sophie leant against the railing. Normally she wouldn’t consider discussing such intimate matters with a stranger. After a year’s dating, she and Ted hadn’t even touched upon the subject of rattles and playpens.

      But hadn’t she decided not to be a shrinking violet? What possible harm could come from a little sharing? In fact, she’d bottled so much up from her friends and colleagues over these last three months it would be a relief to let some of it go.

      ‘I love kids.’ It was a big reason she’d become a schoolteacher. ‘I always thought when the time was right, when I found the right one …’ Her voice trailed off.

      When? Or did she mean if?

      One thing she did know: she would never say I do unless she was totally, one hundred per cent certain of an unshakable love: no compromise. And right now, miserable though it might sound, she couldn’t see it anywhere in her near future.

      Shifting to hug herself against the chill in the air, she tried to make light. ‘Guess I’ll put any plans for a family on the backburner.’

      ‘While I bring it to the front.’ His voice lowered. ‘Seems we’re at odds again.’

      Her arms dropped and she pushed off the rail. She’d had enough air. ‘If I think of anyone who might help, I’ll send her on. Thanks for the dance.’

      He spun around. ‘Where are you going?’

      ‘Time to call it a night.’ The last of the Cadbury’s block in her chocolate bin beckoned. Come Monday she’d join the gym. Maybe a new body would help reinforce a new frame of mind.

      She started off, but his disapproving tone pulled her up. ‘You’re going to let them see you walk out of here alone?’

      Puzzled, she shrugged. ‘That was always going to happen.’

      ‘There is an alternative.’

      She read his mind and shuddered. No more pity, please. ‘You don’t have to escort me out.’

      He sauntered forward, his dynamic silhouette breathtaking in the slanted moonlight. ‘I had something a little more eye-catching in mind.’

      She waved her hands. ‘Whatever it was, I’ve had enough attention heaped on me tonight.’

      His tall, athletic frame backed her up towards the doors. Moving in reverse, she swallowed, wondering at the devilish look stealing across his face. ‘What were you planning?’

      He grinned. ‘Sweet revenge.’

      The moment they re-entered the room, he swept her up into the powerful bands of his arms and the air left her lungs in a shriek. She was weightless! Floating high above the usual normality of her world. It must be a dream. Things like this didn’t happen to her. Soon the alarm would go off.

      A nervous laugh spilled out. ‘What are you doing?’

      ‘Giving your friend an exit to remember. She can stick this in the back of her yearbook.’

      It clicked. ‘You’re going to carry me out in front of everyone?’

      He looked disappointed. ‘That’s only half of it.’

      Parading themselves certainly made an impression. A Mexican wave erupted across the room as, one by one, the crowd turned to gape at the picture they must have created—she nestled in her knight’s arms like a rescued damsel, gauzy curtains billowing all around. Standing together with their boyfriends, Penny and Kate gazed on, frozen in awe like life-size garden statues. Kate began to smile.

      When they had everyone’s attention, and even the music had died, her modern-day Sir Galahad descended each step, not once looking down or cracking a smile. As he moved forward the wedding guests parted—a wheat field divided by the hot blast of a breeze.

      Not certain how she should react, but helpless not to relish every moment, Sophie linked her arms around his neck and whispered, ‘What am I supposed to tell them later?’

      With no word of warning, he stopped and dropped his mouth over hers.

      He kissed her so deeply, so thoroughly, jets of colour-filled fireworks exploded in her head. When their lips softly parted, she was vaguely aware of their audience and a round of booming applause. Bowled over, she melted into the rocking motion as he started out again.

      ‘Tell them you only used me for sex,’ he said as they left the room, ‘and that I’m the biggest notch on your bedpost yet.’

      CHAPTER TWO

      COOPER SMITH stopped into the deserted hotel corridor outside a pair of metallic lift doors. He shucked back his shoulders, then considered the stunned package cradled in his arms.

      He grinned. ‘I think they enjoyed the show.’

      God knows he had. That exit had been the first entirely wild thing he’d done in ages. He’d read somewhere that breaking loose every so often was a tonic for the soul. He had a feeling it could also be highly addictive, which—given his professional knowledge about impulsive behaviour—was probably not a good thing.

      She took him in, big green eyes luminous with shock. He was starting to wonder if it might be permanent when she smiled, then began to laugh. Her jiggling body, that infectious sound—he had to chuckle too.

      Eyes watery with effort, she finally got her breath. ‘I bet Penny’s jaw is still on the floor.’ She shook her head in astonishment. ‘I can’t believe we just did that.’ Then she frowned. ‘I can’t believe you didn’t warn me.’

      ‘You’d only have argued.’

      She dealt him that haughty look. ‘Maybe not.’

      If anything she was consistent.

      Consistently disagreeable.

      Normally he wouldn’t get involved, but the sight of an attractive woman on her own, a colourful bouquet sitting like a death sentence in her lap, had reeled him in. His heartstrings had tugged him all the way into asking her to dance. That he’d enjoyed their time together was a bonus, even after her stubborn streak had made it crystal-clear she most definitely was not ‘the one’.

      She wasn’t an advocate of tradition, marriage or, it seemed, even having a family. Most alarming … she believed a successful union was based on luck. A time bomb waiting to explode. He needed someone who looked at life and love level-headedly.

      A person made his own luck.

      Still, regardless of their differences, despite the fact there could be nothing between them, he couldn’t regret that kiss. Not that it would happen again.

      He inspected the closed lift doors. ‘So, up or down?’

      ‘To the lobby and a taxi … so, down.’

      Adrenaline was pumping through his body, bunching his muscles, firing the synapses over his skin. He wasn’t the least bit tired. They couldn’t go back to work off their energies at the wedding reception, however.

      ‘It’s too early to go home.’

      ‘It’s almost eleven.’

      Hardly late. ‘Are you tired?’

      Her

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