Planning for Love Read Online Free Page A

hastily corrected herself, “what makes you think there will be a next time?”
    He chuckled, and kept that sea-blue gaze locked on her. “Certain things in life are inevitable. Sunrise. Hunger. And my kissing you again. Something ignited between us the minute I picked you up. Don’t try to deny it.”
    Heat suffused Ivy’s face. Ben lifted his left hand to stroke the spot on her neck where her pulse fluttered rapidly. It was a light touch, and he used only a single finger to trace the path of her vein. It was one of the most erotic moments of Ivy’s life. The room, the wedding, the people banging glasses in the hallway disappeared. Her world shrank to a single patch of skin. And yet at the same time, she registered chills racing through her entire body. With a flutter of lashes her eyes closed.
    “Are you the wedding planner?” A harsh, accusing voice bellowed across the hall. Ivy’s eyes flew open. Ben’s expression was unreadable as he stepped back and turned to face the interloper. She pushed off the window sill with a deep breath.
    “Yes, I am. What can I do for you, sir?”
    A man resplendent in full Scottish dress hustled toward her. The chain on his sporran clattered with every step. His kilt swished in a very unmasculine fashion, tartan plaid trailing behind him. “You can give me my money. The wedding’s in less than two hours and I haven’t been paid yet. There’ll be no bagpipes down the aisle unless you pay me what I’m rightfully owed. Five hundred dollars. In cash.”
    The last vestige of delicious romance left her system. In its place, Ivy donned a practiced, calming smile. A threat to halt the wedding, a demand for an exorbitant amount of cash she didn’t have—it was another average day at work.

Chapter Two
    Meticulous planning will enable everything a man does to appear spontaneous.
    —Mark Caine
    Ollie ran in, camera at the ready on his shoulder. Ben waved his hand to indicate he should keep rolling and received a nod of acknowledgement. It didn’t surprise him that Ollie was hot on the trail of the unhappy bagpiper. The kid had great instincts, and could sniff out trouble brewing a mile away.
    “No stalling, now. You can’t treat me like this. I demand full payment immediately.” The man causing the ruckus was short, bald and full of righteous anger. He slipped in and out of a weak attempt at a Scottish accent every couple of words. The bagpipe cradled like a baby in his left arm was covered in a bright orange plaid. It clashed painfully with the red tartan over his shoulder. Ben wondered how obvious it would be if he slipped on his sunglasses to mute the effect.
    “Don’t worry, sir. I’m sure we’ll get everything straightened out.” Ivy’s tone was polite and soothing, her expression placid. Her calm under such an attack was amazing to behold. Ben had seen other wedding planners crumble under far less. She looked so unassuming in her pink dress, but the petite brunette clearly had a spine of steel.
    “There’s nothing to straighten out. I want my money. Period.”
    “If I could get your name…” Ivy’s voice dropped off as she led the man to a table in the center of the hall. Ben trailed behind, staying out of the shot but still close enough to hear everything. He didn’t want to miss a second of the show.
    “Robert Bruce.”
    Ben snorted. He couldn’t help himself. As producer, he was supposed to be objective and most of all, stay out of everything. But none of the wedding party was around, and it just slipped out. Unfortunately, it caught the attention of the already riled piper.
    “What’s your problem?” The man gently settled his bagpipe on a chair and turned to confront Ben, hands on hips.
    “Struck me funny, is all.”
    “You wouldn’t be making fun of my name, would you, laddie?”
    Another snort escaped him, this time of disbelief. “No way is that really your name.”
    Ivy’s eyes shot daggers at him as she rifled through her stack of contracts in