The Blind-Date Bride. Emma Darcy

white shirt showing off his impressive physique. Lots of surface sex appeal, but undoubtedly a bloated male ego to go with it.

      ‘Wow!’ Livvy murmured approvingly. ‘Pete’s friend sure measures up.’

      Probably worked out at a gym in front of mirrors. Catherine was determinedly unimpressed, yet as they strolled towards the two men, a flutter started up in the pit of her stomach. It was the way he was looking at her, she argued to herself, assessing her female assets which, unfortunately, were on blatant display in Livvy’s dress.

      She hadn’t cared earlier, even letting Livvy put the silly pink flower in her hair. It matched the spray of pink flowers featured on the black fabric of the dress, spreading diagonally from the left shoulder to the hem of the skirt. Livvy was into flowers in her hair this summer, using them as accessories to her outfits, but it wasn’t Catherine’s style. Not that it mattered tonight, except…she hoped Pete’s friend wasn’t seeing it as some flirtatious come-on.

      On the other hand, if he wasn’t too full of himself, he was certainly attractive enough to flirt with. Though that could be a dangerous play. She wasn’t used to partnering a powerfully built man, and as she got closer, this man seemed to emanate power, the kind of big male dominant power that suddenly sent weak little quivers down her thighs.

      Stuart was no taller than herself and his physique was on the lean side. His attraction lay more in a quicksilver charm than sheer physical impact. Catherine had always found eye contact and conversation sexier than actual bodies. All the same, she couldn’t stop her eyes from feasting on this guy. He had an undeniable animal magnetism that tugged out a wanton wondering about what it might be like to have sex with him.

      Different, she decided.

      Not quite civilised.

      Dark and intense.

      Like his eyes…now that he was looking directly into hers.

      Catherine sucked in a quick breath as her heart skipped into a wild canter. This guy had it in spades. With one searing look he burnt Stuart Carstairs right out of her mind and stamped his own image over the scar. It was a stunning impact. Catherine hadn’t even begun to recover from it when she heard Pete Raynor start the introductions.

      ‘Livvy…Catherine…this is my friend, Zack Freeman…’

      Another stunning impact.

      She knew him. Or rather, knew of him. Who didn’t in the computer graphics business? Zack Freeman was already reaching legendary status for what he had achieved in special effects. He produced amazing stuff. And he was Pete’s friend…her blind date?

      Very white teeth flashed a winning smile. ‘I’m delighted to meet you both. And I wish you a very happy birthday, Livvy.’

      He offered his hand to her first—a perfunctory courtesy as Livvy thanked him—just a quick touch—then to Catherine, who found her hand captured by his for several seconds, making her extremely conscious of the warm flesh-to-flesh contact.

      ‘I appreciate your giving me your company tonight, Catherine,’ he said very personally, his voice pitched to a low, deep intimacy.

      Her stomach flipped. She’d thought of Zack Freeman as some clever computer nerd with a weird creative genius, occupying some planet of his own. Yet here he was, right in front of her, so dynamically sexy she could scarcely breathe. It was a miracle she found the presence of mind to produce a reply.

      ‘My pleasure.’

      His smile was quite dazzling, given the dark tan of his skin. He had a strong nose, strong chin. His eyebrows were straight and low, his eyes deepset, somehow emphasising their penetrating power. His hair was a mass of tight, springy black curls which should have had a softening effect, but perversely added a sense of wound-up aggression.

      ‘Nice car,’ he said, nodding to where she’d parked.

      ‘I like it.’

      His eyes teased as he asked, ‘What does it say about you?’

      She already felt under attack from him and instinctively she fended off the probe that was asking her to reveal private feelings. ‘Does it have to say anything?’

      ‘Cars always say something about their owners.’ He withdrew his hand and gestured to his friend. ‘Now take Pete here. His BMW says he’s made it. He’s solid. He likes proven performance.’

      ‘Right on,’ Pete agreed.

      ‘So what car do you own?’ Catherine asked Zack, wanting to learn something about him.

      He grinned. ‘I don’t. If I need a car, I hire one.’

      ‘Don’t let him fool you, Catherine,’ Pete quickly inserted. ‘Zack’s a bikie from way back. He’s got a whole stable of bikes to suit whatever mood he’s in and whatever he wants to do.’

      ‘An open road man,’ she observed, thinking Zack Freeman had to have the kind of mind that would hate any form of confinement.

      ‘Like you, Catherine,’ Livvy popped in, all for encouraging this twosome.

      Zack raised one eyebrow. ‘True?’

      She shrugged. ‘I’ve only ever thought of my car as a somewhat impractical self-indulgence.’ She shot a rueful look at her sister. ‘Livvy’s the one who analyses everything to death.’

      ‘And I love her great sense of logic,’ Pete said with relish, beaming pleasure in her sister. He held out the bottle he was carrying. ‘Brought the best French bubbly to celebrate your birthday, Livvy.’

      ‘Great!’ She grabbed his arm, hugging it as he turned to lead them into the restaurant. ‘I just love your sense of occasion, Pete.’

      They were so obviously happy with each other, Catherine shook her head over the pressure exerted on her to make up a foursome. She eyed Zack Freeman curiously, aware that he could probably snap his fingers and pick up any woman. So why had he agreed to a blind date?

      She remembered Livvy’s argument, centred mostly on getting Catherine to rid herself of Stuart and open up to other men. Embarrassment squirmed through her at the thought that Livvy had engaged Pete’s help to fix up her sister and she was some kind of charity case to Zack Freeman—doing a favour asked of him by his old friend.

      A horrible sense of humiliation forced her to blurt out, ‘Did Pete coerce you into partnering me tonight?’

      He was slow to reply, possibly picking up her inner tension and musing over its cause. ‘I had no other plans. Pete wanted me to make up a party of four tonight and I agreed.’ His mouth quirked. ‘No regrets so far. But if you have a problem with the arrangement…’

      ‘No,’ she rushed out on a wave of intense relief. He hadn’t been told anything personal about her.

      His head tilted quizzically. ‘You want to cut and run?’

      Truth spilled out before she could stop it. ‘Livvy would kill me if I did.’

      ‘Ah! So she coerced you.’

      Catherine took a deep breath, wanting to get onto some kind of equal footing with him. ‘It was more her idea than mine.’

      ‘Does that mean you’re anticipating pain with me?’

      A nervous gurgle of laughter bubbled out. ‘Let me fantasise pleasure for a while.’

      ‘Good idea!’ His eyes twinkled wicked mischief. ‘I’ll do the same.’

      He half turned, waving her to fall into step with him to follow Pete and Livvy. He made no attempt to take her arm or hand, for which she was grateful since she was super-conscious of his physicality as it was, and any contact would feel sexual after her blunder in linking pleasure and fantasy.

      ‘Livvy said you and Pete have been friends since school days,’ she remarked, trying to dampen the sizzle she’d unwittingly raised.

      ‘Mmm…going