Several hours later, food eaten, wine drunk, speeches made, Guy was wearying somewhat and made his way out onto the terrace overlooking the Thames. It was a beautiful night, but fuelled by copious quantities of alcohol, the other wedding guests were content to be inside embarrassing themselves on the dance floor.
?Sir?? an attractive waitress handed him a plate of wedding cake. The enormous article had been made up of three flavours and each guest had been given a little of each to sample. On the bone china dish sat a delicate cube each of carrot, vanilla and red velvet cake, but it wasn?t these that caught Guy?s attention as much as the statuesque blonde who had just stepped on to the terrace and was now leaning over the railing, taking in the stunning view.
Guy finished his cake and made his way over to the opposite side of the terrace.
?Guy Thornton North,? he smiled, extending his hand, ?Bride or Groom??
?Neither,? quipped the woman, her blue eyes twinkling, ?Actually I work with Marion?s dad as an architect - I?m Bo.?
Guy noticed that Bo?s plate was untouched on the wrought iron table beside her.
?Not a cake fan, I take it?? he queried.
?Actually, I made the cake,? she replied, ?It?s a hobby, but to be honest I?m sick of the sight of the stuff at the moment. It just doesn?t taste the same after several late nights making the finished article,? she shrugged ruefully, ?I used to love red velvet cake, but now?? Bo shuddered.
?Have you seen ?Dead Poet?s Society??? enquired Guy.
Bo gave him a curious look, ?Random,? she replied, ??but go on, I?ll play. Yes I have seen it but not for years.?
Guy smiled. ?There?s a scene where Robin Williams character gets the students to stand on their desks to see things from a new perspective. That?s what you need to do with your cakes, Bo.?
?Stand on a table and eat them?? she frowned.
Guy laughed, ?No, although maybe that would work for you. Try this?? he instructed ??sit down.?
Bo was not generally the type to do as she was told, but Guy was, as ever, so charming, that she found herself doing as she was bid and taking a seat. Guy seated himself next to her and pulled the plate towards him.
?Close your eyes,? he said softly. In the world of cake thought Bo, Guy?s voice would definitely be red velvet.
?Now, open your mouth,? he continued almost in a whisper.
Bo complied, feeling slightly foolish but still compelled by the handsome stranger next to her.
Guy picked up the dainty cube of vanilla cake and fed it to Bo. She felt the lightness of the sponge on her tongue and the heady scent of vanilla invaded both her taste buds and her sense of smell.
?Do you see what I mean now?? asked Guy. Bo nodded.
?Next,? he said. This time, he chose the carrot cake. Bo savoured the plump, moist sultanas and sultry spices that combined with the carrot flavoured sponge. Guy was right, eating cake like this might have had more in common with ?9 ½ Weeks? than ?Dead Poet?s Society,? but she certainly had more of an appreciation for what she was tasting.
?Last one,? said Guy. He was transfixed as he watched Bo?s full, deep pink lips part for him to deliver the final cube of her favourite red velvet cake. As lifted the morsel to her mouth, his hand shook imperceptibly but just enough for a little of the white chocolate frosting to go astray. Gently, he guided it back into her mouth with the tip of his finger. He felt her tongue warm on his skin as she licked the last traces of frosting clean.
She opened her own eyes to find herself looking deep into Guy?s. There was no need for words, other than, ?Which floor are you on??
They opted for the one that could be reached the quickest, and unnoticed by the other guests, ran for the lift?