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‘People pay me to transform a simple idea into a beautiful design. Otherwise why bother having dresses made-to-measure? Alice could have gone to a department store for a plain dress. She expects me to do something creative with this idea. Don’t you like the idea of being creative?’
    Creative? He had grown up with an artist mother whose idea of responsibility was making sure there was always paint and canvas in the house. Everything else was unnecessary. Timetables were for other people to follow, not her. She was talented, celebrated, enchanting and, for a teenage boy desperate for some structure in his life, totally exasperating.
    Kate Lovat was clearly cut from the same mould.
    Not even an elegant grey and white pinstripe skirt suit could hide the fact that she was just as irresponsible and creative as the girl he remembered from the last time they’d met.
    He should have guessed that Kate had not changed that much. Who else would choose to wear quirky red leather ankle boots with her toes sticking out the front on a wet July afternoon?
    His gaze scanned her legs—and lingered a little too long on those shapely smooth legs before focusing on the footwear. Her toenails were painted in the exact same shade of red as her boots.
    Fire engine red.
    A flaming symbol of her attitude to life.
    Well, it certainly fitted, because she had just managed to spark a match under the very last scrap of patience he had held on to for emergencies and burnt it to a crisp.
    There was one thing he hated above anything else—and that was surprises.
    ‘Are all four dresses like this one?’ he asked with a rock-stiff jaw.
    ‘Of course they are. You ordered matching outfits.’
    A deep furrow appeared between Heath’s brows and the air practically crackled with electricity as he exploded with a reply. ‘Kate, Alice ordered plain. I don’t know much about fashion, but this is not plain.’
    Kate stepped forward so that her entire body was only inches away from his, and the fire in her eyes was the same colour as her toenails.
    ‘And I know about fashion. Alice. Will love. These dresses. The bridesmaids will love these dresses. Your father will love these dresses. The entire clan gathered for this shindig will love these dresses. And the wedding will be a huge success, Heath. Job done.’
    ‘Job done? I don’t think so. Have you any idea how important this wedding is? This is the first time in ten years that my father’s asked me to do anything for him. I’m not prepared to see their wedding day ruined by you taking creative licence. These dresses will have to be altered.’
    Concern fuelled his anger but Kate’s response threw petrol onto the flames.
    Because she did not look away or back down. She stared him out, and the look in her eyes was something new, something he had not seen before.
    This was not the same girl he remembered. Little Kate had certainly grown up.
    ‘Change them? Do you have any idea what you are saying?’ Her words came out in a staccato retort of crisp clear sounds as though she was struggling to contain herself. ‘There is no way that I can alter even one of these dresses before the weekend. So, as far as I am concerned, this is it. No negotiation. No replacements.’
    A surge of disbelief swept through him and he was about to launch into a tirade when his cellphone rang. His personal assistant was returning his call.
    ‘Don’t go anywhere,’ he ordered, pointing the phone at her chest like a baton and turned back to the desk and the sales figures.
    * * *
    Kate desperately fought to find the words needed to frame some kind of response but was saved when he moved out of earshot.
    With a twist of her heels she turned away from him and leapt back up the stairs and tugged open the glass cases that held the books and pretended to be fascinated in the first book she picked up.
    Her eyes were too blurry to read the title on the spine or admire the fine end papers.
    The one thing that she had been secretly