in love with Cade was unfortunate, yes, but not insurmountable. At least, she hoped not. Eventually his memory would fade. When it did she would date again. One thing was for sure, though—she didn’t regret turning down his offer of marriage. Not for a moment. Not even in a weak moment.
She collected her clutch and wrap and with a deep breath headed for the living room.
‘Nicola, this gentleman says he knows you. He claims he’s your date for the evening.’
Nicola glanced up as she walked into the living room, to find Cade’s bulk framed in the doorway. Wind rushed past her ears, drowning out the rest of her mother’s words. She reached out a hand to steady herself on the back of a chair. Cade stood there—in her living room in Melbourne—dressed in a tuxedo, and all she could do was stare...and stare...and stare some more. She blinked but he didn’t disappear. She gripped the back of the chair more tightly to prevent herself from doing something stupid like racing over to him and hurling herself into his arms.
He shrugged. He didn’t smile. ‘We had a deal. Did you think I’d forget?’
* * *
Cade suspected he might be about to make the biggest fool of himself, but he wasn’t sure he cared. Not when it meant seeing Nicola in the flesh and drawing her unique strawberry jam scent into his lungs. He stared at her and something inside him that had stopped and seized the day her plane had taken off from Waminda, started to unfurl, to relax...to tick with anticipation.
He ached to take the three strides that would bring him right up against her, wrap an arm around her waist and pull her hard up against him and kiss her until neither one of them could think.
But she deserved a whole lot more finesse than that. Besides, it might help slake the need pounding through him, but it was her need that counted.
She stared at him with those amazing eyes, but she didn’t smile. Her tongue snaked out to moisten her lips. ‘I...um...’
She had! She’d thought he’d forgotten their deal. It took an effort of will not to rock back on his heels. He resisted the urge to run a finger around the collar of his shirt as it tightened about his throat. ‘Did you organise another date?’ His voice scraped out of his throat, but he couldn’t help it, couldn’t modulate it. He tried to swallow.
Was someone else taking his Cinderella to the ball? His hands clenched about the bunch of flowers he held. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if she said yes.
The older woman who’d answered the door nudged Nicola. ‘Darling?’
Nicola jumped. Colour flooded her cheeks. ‘I really didn’t think you’d... I mean, I never really thought that you were serious.’
Of course she hadn’t. She thought him a lowlife—the kind of man who’d propose a loveless marriage. He had done that and it did make him a lowlife. His hands clenched tightly. If he was lucky he might be able to redeem himself a little this evening. The stems of the flowers dug into his hands.
‘You...’ Her voice trembled. She swallowed. ‘You never mentioned it again.’
‘I always keep my word.’
‘How...’ Her tongue moistened her lips and need clenched through him. ‘How did you know when it was on?’
‘You told Ella. You showed her your dress.’ He wondered if he would ever be able to unclench his hand from around the flowers. ‘In one of your Skype sessions. I listened in to them all.’
‘You never once said hello.’
He could see now what a mistake that had been.
Her hands twisted together. ‘I wish you hadn’t gone to so much trouble.’
It was all he could do to keep his voice steady. ‘No trouble at all.’ She was going to shaft him! She was going to tell him she had another date, and that he’d wasted his time. She was going to tell him to go home.
With every second that passed the atmosphere grew tenser. The older woman stepped forward to take the flowers. Probably before he could strangle them completely. She had to almost prise them from his hand. She glanced at Nicola and cleared her throat delicately.
Nicola jumped again. ‘Mum, this is Cade Hindmarsh, the owner of Waminda Downs station where I was nanny during the Christmas break. Cade, this is my mother, Angela McGillroy.’
Nicola’s mother? She was nothing like he’d imagined. He did his best not to stare. ‘Pleased to meet you.’
‘Charmed,’ she returned but her eyes narrowed. ‘Do you want to attend the wedding with this man, Nicola, or would you like me to send him packing?’
He might be twice her size but he didn’t doubt her ability to dispatch him with ruthless efficiency if she so chose.
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Nicola?’ If she’d truly prefer to attend the wedding on her own, or if she had another date, he’d leave. He planted his feet and lifted his chin. But he’d be back here first thing tomorrow morning. They had to talk.
His lips twisted. No, correction—he had to beg. His gut tightened. Hopefully, Nicola would listen. It’d be more than he deserved, he knew that, but he had to give it a go.
Still, scowling and pressing her weren’t fair. He made himself smile and for a moment that wasn’t hard because it was so damn good to see her. ‘It’s great to see you, Nicola. You look...fabulous.’ He hoped his eyes conveyed just how fabulous he found her. ‘And if you don’t have another date I would be honoured to attend the wedding with you.’
She smiled back and just like that the ground beneath his feet shifted. ‘Thank you, Cade, that would be lovely.’
The tightness in his chest eased when he realised he’d just won round one. As he led her to his hired car he reminded himself that this evening was about her. He meant to make this night special for her, his own impatience be damned. It was the least he could do. Nicola deserved the best and tonight he meant to give that to her. Or die trying.
Only then would he have the right to ask for her hand in marriage. And if he made it that far, this time he had every intention of doing it right.
* * *
For Cade, nothing was too much trouble. He anticipated Nicola’s every want, he charmed her friends and he made all the right comments about the bride’s dress, the bridesmaids, the speeches and the food served at the reception. He even kept his thoughts about the bridegroom to himself. Though, hell... His lip curled. Nicola could do a hundred times better than that colourless prat.
She can do a hundred times better than you too.
Nicola smiled and chatted. She sighed her way through the service before asking if they could give another couple a ride to the reception. She seemed to genuinely enjoy herself and none of that enjoyment seemed forced. The service and the reception didn’t appear to give her pain or make her feel awkward. He kept an eagle eye out for either, ready to do whatever he could to help, to boost her confidence, but...
She didn’t need it.
Her grace and poise impressed him. It also made him feel at a loss. He knew exactly how to fluster her. All it would take would be a sly caress to her arm and a scorching survey of her lips and—
This is about her, not you!
He refreshed her glass of champagne and, for what felt like the first time that evening, found himself alone with her. ‘Is it the ordeal you thought it would be?’
She sipped her champagne and then shook her head. ‘No, it’s been kind of nice and a lot of fun.’
She hadn’t needed him at all. His heart burned at that realisation. ‘Would you like to dance?’
Slowly she shook her head. ‘I think I’d rather just chat.’
He ached to hold her in his arms, but wasn’t sure of his own strength on that score. He gritted his teeth.