“Come on Jude, lighten up. It’s a wedding. You’re a bridesmaid, I’m the best man…”
“I’m a best woman, actually.” She turned toward the sign. “And you’re…well, you’re a man, I guess.”
Much to her irritation, he laughed. Then, even more irritatingly, fell into step beside her as she began to head toward the exit. “Good to see things haven’t changed. This whole getting-on-like-a-house-on-fire thing we have going on with each other.”
“We have nothing going on with each other.”
“Sure, darling. Keep telling yourself that.”
“Any particular reason you’re following me?”
“The sheer pleasure of your company.”
“Oh sure. Like I believe that. You’re doing it to be a pain in the butt.”
“True. Being a pain in the butt is always fun. But as it happens,” his voice altered, becoming deeper and much more suggestive, “I’m actually here to proposition you.”
Judith almost missed a step. Then her brain caught up. “No.”
“You haven’t heard what I have to say yet.”
“I don’t need to. Whatever it is, the answer’s going to be no.” Because no was pretty much her standard response when it came to Caleb Steele.
“You’re not even curious?”
“Do I look curious?”
Caleb paused beside her and the strange, antsy prickling feeling intensified as his gaze ran over her. “Bit difficult to tell in the dark, but yeah, you do. You also look cute in that bridesmaid dress.”
She snorted. Perhaps if she was a little bitty girly who was impressed with being told she looked cute by the world-famous rugby player, she may have had a small heart palpitation. Jude wasn’t a little bitty girly. Not anymore. She was a twenty-six-year-old woman with a successful photography business and a healthy contempt for charmers and fakes.
“I’m sure it’s very interesting. Sadly, I’d rather cut my lawn with nail scissors before accepting any proposition from you.”
“Hey, no problem. I’ll get you the scissors.”
“Which part of no didn’t you understand?”
“Gee, that’s a real shame.” He lifted his laser gun and began to examine it in some detail. “I guess me, Joe, and Luke will have to find some other photographer to help out with my awesome fundraising idea, then.”
Since he’d become one of the world’s most sought-after rugby players, he’d also become a big fish splashing in the shallow pool of money, rugby groupies, media attention, and sponsorship deals. A player in all senses of the word. Charity and good works? Only if his PR person thought it necessary. Photography? When his publicist needed a picture and column time in the gossip mags.
“Fundraising idea? You? Forgive me if I smirk quietly to myself.”
A fleeting expression of annoyance flashed over his face, but it was gone before she could be sure. He shrugged. “Oh well, I guess if you’re not interested…”
“Not today. Not tomorrow. And I’d even go so far as to say not in this lifetime.”
At that moment, a shape appeared suddenly in front of them, gun pointed. Judith’s vest activated with a whine, only to erupt again in another burst of static as she was shot. Caleb’s vest made the same sound a moment later.
“You both are soooo dead!” Christie said triumphantly. In her white wedding gown with its fifties Hollywood glamour, the lights glittering off the Swarovski crystals that decorated her silver Doc Martens—a wedding present from Joseph—she presented a startling picture. Especially with the laser tag vest over the top of everything.
Caleb gave her a courtly bow. “Dead we most certainly are. You should be in a Quentin Tarantino movie, Christie sweetheart.”
Christie grinned at him, cocking her gun at her hip and looking radiant. “I know, right? This is such a blast.”
A faint smile crept over Judith’s face. Okay, so laser tag wasn’t her thing but being snarky about it was impossible when faced with Christie’s infectious enthusiasm. “Don’t tell me—you’re winning, right?”
“Of course I’m winning.” Christie abruptly narrowed her eyes, looking behind Judith and Caleb. “Ah-ha! There he is, the sneaky bastard. You can run but you can’t hide, husband mine.” She darted away in a swirl of dry ice and a sparkle of crystal.
“Well,” said Caleb conversationally. “Since we’re both dead…”
“The answer is still no, Caleb.”
They reached the exit. With ostentatious gallantry, Caleb pulled open the door for her and grinned. The same charming, outrageous grin that had been plastered all over Auckland’s billboards for the past month in his latest advertising campaign. This month it was underwear.