That was too close. Way too close.

Catherine deliberately stayed far away from Vincent, talking with one of Heather's aunts. Aunt Arlene was telling her all about how she'd used homeopathic medicine to cure her cat of a digestive disorder, and Cat was actually quite interested. Her grandfather was always interested in alternative medicine.

Anything to keep my mind off of Vincent.

She hadn't been able to stay away from him during photographs. Evan and Heather had hired an extremely competent photographer, and a videographer. He has been taping the vows, but directly after the ceremony, the photographer had insisted that they pose for a number of formal portraits.

Heather had also hired a makeup artist, so that everyone would look great in the pictures. Cat had stood patiently while the young woman powdered her nose, then tried not to flinch when someone suggested, "We really should get a picture of the best man and the maid of honor. Wouldn't that be cute?"

Catherine had smiled and smiled through countless pictures until she swore her face was about to fall off, and then finally escaped and moved as far away from Vincent Keller as possible. Unobtrusively, of course.

But she couldn't stop looking at him. Then again, neither could any other single woman at the wedding. Hell, there were a fair few woman who where happily married staring dreamy-eyed at him. She knew that Heather told her a long time ago that Evan's best friend was smart, loaded, and gorgeous. Now Cat was wishing that she had paid attention.

She glanced over in his direction and noticed that two of the bridesmaids hovered around him. And Vincent seemed gracious and charming with both of them. Cat felt her self-confidence drop several notches. It was true; he had this effect on all females, not just with her. They'd fit together so well, had such vibrant chemistry together, because Vincent would have intense chemistry with a tree stump.

She'd been nothing special to him after all.

Feeling shaky, determined not to cry, she turned her attention back to Auntie Arlene.


Now he knew he had it bad, because none of these women could hold a candle to Candy. It wasn't that they were boring; there was nothing wrong with them.

They just weren't Candy.

He glanced over at Catherine. It was the damnedest thing; she'd seemed so vibrant before, and now it seems like some inner light had gone out.

And why are you concerned with Catherine when you have Candy coming over tonight?

Well, he'd have to be a real cad not to notice Catherine what's-her-name's change of emotion. Women were complete mysteries to Vincent, and he liked it that way. But he tried to pay attention, to keep up with the program. He tried to notice the little details, and the details surrounding Catherine were that she seemed exhausted.

She'd flown in last night, after the rehearsal dinner. Heather mentioned something about a performance she had to do, and as she lived somewhere in California, Vincent wondered if she were some sort of actress. And, of course, flying during the holidays was the worst. On top of that, she'd lost time flying east, and changing time zones could be exhausting.

But it seemed more than that.

Maybe she was upset that her best friend was married and she was still single. That sounded like the way a woman might be feeling at a wedding. Maybe it had all hit her the final moments of the ceremony. Vincent studied her, the dark hair, the slender body. She didn't have to worry. She was sparkly enough and pretty enough that she wouldn't be single for long. Or if she was, it would be her choice.


Catherine decided to make a conscious choice.

Okay, so Vincent had chemistry with everyone. Fine. But she'd chosen to throw caution to the wind and have wild sex with him. She'd made that decision. So starting right now, she was not going to regret that decision or beat herself up for it. She was going to accept it, realize that she'd had a night of passion that most women spent their entire lives dreaming for, and move on.

Move on. Yeah, right. That was the hard part.

You can get through the rest of this wedding. You are calm, collected. You know what you are capable of.

Vanessa came up behind her and put a supportive hand on her back.

"Catherine, we thought you and Vincent could ride over to the reception with Evan and Heather. Would that be all right?"

In a limo. With Vincent. That close. Sure.

She nodded her head."Should we leave now?"

Vanessa smiled. "I think the photographer's gotten all the pictures she wants. But they still want to take candids at the reception. And there's the video, of course. Remind Heather to powder her nose, would you?"

Heather sat in Evan's lap the entire way over, both of them kissing each other, all over like two dogs that had just discovered rare prime rib. And Cat could sympathize, because Heather had decided to wait until her wedding night to have sex.

"Are you alright?" Vincent asked her.

His concern touched her.

"Just a little tired. I flew in yesterday and didn't get a lot of sleep last night."

"I know what you mean. Neither did I."

Her mind went into overdrive, her imagination going down a darkly sexual path.

She pulled it up short.

"How do you like New York?" he said, and she could tell he was trying to make polite conversation as neither of them wanted to look at the newlyweds.

"I grew up here," she said. "It's a lovely area."

Lovely. God, I sound so boring.

She decided to tweak him a little, mad at him that he should have such a powerful chemistry with the entire female population. She wanted it to be just between the two of them.

"How was the big bachelor party?"

He stared at her for a long moment, and for one awful instant, she thought she'd given herself away.

"It was actually quite wonderful." He said softly, and the tone of his voice seemed filled with awe. Vincent hesitated, then said, "I'm still kind of getting over it. It was one of the. . . no, it was the most wonderful night of my life."

Her throat started to close.

"How so?" she managed to croak out.

He seemed suddenly surprised that he'd revealed so much to her, as if he hadn't meant to say what he said.

"You're a very easy woman to talk to."

"I've been told I'm a good listener."

"Hmmm." He stared out the window for a second, then glanced up at her.

"Maybe I could use a woman's opinion. Would you mind?"

Do I really have a choice?

"Not at all."

"I met this dancer. She intrigued me. We ended up. . ." He seemed to catch himself as he looked down at her. He stopped.

"You inserted Tab A into Slot B."

"How did you know?"

"Some stories are obvious."

Vincent considered this. "I've been working so hard. I tend to keep my nose to the grindstone, and this girl, she. . . she just set me free."

Cat swallowed against the nervous tightness in her throat. "And did you like feeling this way?"

"Yes."

"So, call her up."

"I did."

"What?"

He glanced down at her.

Think fast Cat, think fast.

"Sorry, just surprised. She gave you her number then?"

"No, I called the company she works for. They're sending her over at eleven."

"I see."

"I just. . . I want her to know that it was more than just sex. I am not sure what it is, but it was more than just. . . that."

"But, and excuse me for saying this, but you seem to be the sort of man who could have a great time with any number of women. You know. . . that chemistry thing."

He shook his head. "Not like this."

She smiled and leaned toward him, touching his arm.

Tell him, tell him who you are. And then you can. . . then you can wreck Heather's marriage, that's what you can do.

How would she ever be able to explain to Vincent what she'd been doing at the party arranged for Evan?

There was no way for either of the men to view it as anything other than an enormous betrayal.

Vincent grinned down at her. "So, any last words of advice for me?"

"Next time you host a bachelor party, consider something a little less dangerous, like bungee-jumping, or sky-diving. Or maybe fire-walking."

He laughed.