Frisky Business (36 page)

‘Right,’ Kit said, coming back into the room and pulling her from her people-watching, ‘I’ve got everyone’s room numbers. Ethan and Sinead are just next door, and everyone else is somewhere along this corridor. Apart from Hannah and Tank, of course. They’re in the bridal suite.’

‘Makes sense,’ she said, turning from the window.

‘Hey, why is it called the bridal suite?’ Kit asked, frowning. ‘Why not the groomal suite? Or just the wedding suite?’

‘The bride always gets top billing at a wedding.’

‘That’s not fair! It’s discrimination,’ he mumbled as he picked up Romy’s case and put it on the luggage stand. He placed his own flat on the floor and zipped it open. ‘Right, we’d better get this show on the road,’ he said, hanging his suit carrier in the wardrobe. ‘They’ve already started drinking without us. We’ll never catch up if we don’t get a move on.’

‘Okay.’ Romy hopped off the window seat. ‘Do you want to go first?’ she asked, waving towards the bathroom.

‘I don’t mind. Whichever you prefer.’

‘Yeah, you go first. Then I can take my time.’

She opened her suitcase and pretended to be engrossed in unpacking while Kit stripped down to his boxers before heading into the bathroom, though she did allow herself a surreptitious peek as she hung her dress in the wardrobe. He was certainly fit, she thought, checking out his taut stomach, long muscled legs and broad chest that still bore the traces of a golden tan. Once he was in the bathroom, she took out the pinwheel and spreader bar from the depths of her case and laid
them carefully on top, leaving the case open so that Kit would see them. Now all she had to do was wait.

And wait, she thought later as she lay on the bed and watched Kit move around the room as he dressed. He had emerged from the bathroom after about half an hour in a cloud of citrusy-smelling steam and she had been waiting patiently for him to notice the sex toys ever since. He had to pass right by her case every time he went to the wardrobe or dresser, but he was lacing his shoes now and he still hadn’t noticed them. Unless he had, and wasn’t saying anything because he didn’t know what they were. Or because he did … She was just going to have to draw his attention to them deliberately.

‘Could you help me with these?’ he asked, coming over to her and holding out a pair of cufflinks in his strong, tanned hands.

She sat up and fastened the cufflinks in the stiff cuffs of his snowy white shirt, breathing in the delicious male scent of his aftershave. He looked so gorgeous. She really hoped he wasn’t a fan of the kinky stuff – or gay. She thought about that night in the cupboard. Gay my arse! she snorted to herself. Darth Vader was no stranger to shagging women. But this was her chance to find out what made him tick – she had to make the most of the opportunity. She needed to get the kink out of the way so she could move on to phase two of the plan.

Kit went to the mirror to knot his tie and she noticed that his hair was already dry. ‘Why don’t I go downstairs so you can have the room to yourself, and then you can join me whenever you’re ready?’ he said as he finished with his tie and took his jacket from the wardrobe.

It was now or never. ‘Okay,’ she said, hopping off the bed and
going over to her case. She had to act fast. She began unpacking make-up and jewellery and piling them onto the dressing table. ‘God, how on earth did
that
get into my case?’ she said, slinging the little pinwheel onto the pile.

To her relief, Kit took the bait. ‘What is it anyway?’ he asked, picking it up and looking at it curiously.

‘Oh, it’s just … a massager,’ she said, taking it from him and rolling it along her arm to demonstrate.

‘Really? Looks painful.’

‘Yes,’ she said, smiling to herself. ‘Doesn’t it just?’ One test down, and Kit had passed with flying colours. But she wanted to make sure.

‘I don’t know what I was thinking when I packed,’ she mumbled, lifting the spreader bar from her case. ‘I must have been half asleep. I certainly didn’t mean to bring this!’ She held it up to Kit, laughing at her own absent-mindedness.

‘What the hell is it?’ he asked, taking it from her hands, screwing his face up in confusion as he pulled at the straps.

‘Oh, it’s just … er … an exercise thing,’ she said, making an effort to sound casual. ‘It’s for toning your abdominals.’

‘Well, you won’t be needing that this weekend, will you?’

‘No, I certainly won’t,’ she said, taking it from him and throwing it back into the case. Or ever, she thought to herself.

‘Well, I’ll see you down in the bar.’ He bent to the mirror to give his hair a final flick. ‘Call me if you need anything,’ he said, straightening up.

Romy waited until she was sure he was safely down the hall before doing a little victory dance.

‘Yes!’ she shouted, punching the air with her fist. She was relieved she wouldn’t have to consider BDSM if she wanted to be with Kit. Now she just had to rule out the gay thing. She raced around the room excitedly, stripping off and laying out her prettiest underwear on the bed. ‘I did the right thing bringing
you,’ she said, smiling down at it smugly. ‘Let phase two of the honey-trap commence!’

Before heading for the bathroom, she grabbed her mobile and sent Lesley a text: ‘Vanilla seduction is go.’

‘Wow, you look amazing,’ Kit said when she found him in the bar, his eyes raking over her appreciatively.

She had gone all out and she knew she looked good. Her purple crushed velvet dress and soft suede boots were sexy without sacrificing warmth and comfort, and her long dark hair fell in soft snaky curls around her shoulders.

‘Thanks,’ she said.

‘Let me get you a drink. Champagne?’

‘Yes, please.’

Kit was standing with his father and brother, and a pretty redhead who stood beside Ethan – presumably his date. All the Masterson men were sporting snowy white shirts for once. Tuxedos really did something for men. They all looked really well, Romy thought, as she looked around the circle, her eyes lingering on Ethan, but he was … breathtaking.

‘I went for white today, Romy,’ Colm said, pointing to his shirt. ‘Father of the bride – had to be done.’

‘Sometimes you have to go with tradition,’ she said, smiling at him. ‘Where’s Laura?’

‘She’s up helping Hannah get ready.’

‘Romy, this is Sinead,’ Ethan said, introducing the girl at his side.

‘Hi, nice to meet you,’ Sinead said, smiling as they shook hands. She had merry eyes and dimpled cheeks in a pale freckled face, and she looked like fun and trouble.

‘Here you go,’ Kit said, returning and handing her a glass of
champagne. His arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her into his side.

‘Thanks.’ She put her free arm around his back, blushing as she caught Ethan watching the movement closely. But that was ridiculous – why should she feel guilty for putting her arm around her boyfriend? She felt as if Ethan had caught her out in a lie – which technically, she supposed, he had, since Kit wasn’t really her boyfriend. Not yet. But that could be about to change.

Twenty minutes before the ceremony was due to start, the guests were invited to take their places in the chapel, and they tottered across the lawn in varying degrees of inebriation, some still carrying champagne glasses with them. One woman got stuck in the grass and just stayed put, laughing maniacally until her partner came to haul her out. Spindly heels, soft earth and too much champagne were not a good combination.

‘Sinead seems nice,’ Romy commented to Kit as they walked arm in arm towards the chapel. Romy had discovered that Sinead was a journalist who had met Ethan when she was doing a feature on volunteer workers. She had kept them entertained with wildly indiscreet stories about various celebrities and politicians that had never made it into the press.

‘Yeah, she’s great,’ Kit said. ‘But don’t get too attached.’

‘Why? Do you not think Ethan’s that keen on her?’

‘I’m sure he likes her as well as the next girl, but he doesn’t usually stay with one person for long. Wouldn’t be fair on the next girl.’

‘Huh!’ She looked ahead at Ethan, who was crossing the little
wooden bridge now, his arm around Sinead. He seemed far too nice to be such a man-whore.

‘He’s very nice to all his girlfriends,’ Kit said, as if he had read her thoughts. ‘He just likes to spread himself around. It’s fairer that way. Everyone gets a turn.’

‘Very nice of him, I’m sure,’ Romy said archly.

‘Anyway, Sinead’s well able to take care of herself.’

Romy could believe that. She certainly didn’t seem the needy type.

‘She doesn’t take it seriously any more than he does. I think they’re fuck buddies more than anything – friends with benefits. It’s the way they do things nowadays, apparently.’

Romy sighed. ‘Kids these days,’ she said, shaking her head.

‘I don’t get the whole friends with benefits thing. Do you?’

‘Well, it’s not for old fogeys like us,’ he said, giving her a squeeze. ‘Ethan’s young, he likes girls. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s normal at his age to put yourself about a bit.’

‘I suppose.’

‘Ethan doesn’t sweat the small stuff,’ Kit said as they crossed the bridge, which was decorated with flowers and ribbons wound around its wooden posts. ‘Maybe it’s something to do with the work he’s been doing, the places he’s been. I guess it makes you realise what’s important. All this worrying about who’s shagging who, or “where’s this relationship going” must seem like so much toss when you’ve seen people struggling just to survive.’

Romy looked at him, surprised at this defence of his brother. Usually, he was more than happy for an opportunity to slag him off. ‘So, women are “the small stuff”?’ she said indignantly.

‘No, that’s not what I meant. But sex … people make too much of a big deal out of it. It doesn’t have to be that complicated. You eat, you sleep, you shag – it’s simple.’

Romy
rolled her eyes. ‘You’re such a romantic!’ she said as they stepped into the chapel.