Page 1 of The Polly Principle (The Laws of Love 2)

Chapter 1

With her champagne flute poised, it flashed through Polly’s mind that she should be paid for delivering couples to the altar. Would a wedding planner hire her? Or a swanky venue? Her track record for pairing bridesmaids off with stray guests was impressive. She could single-handedly keep the bookings up for cakes, dresses, hire services… honestly, the list was endless.

“Please raise your glasses to the beautiful bride and the ugly groom.” The best man’s words cut through her brilliant career plans. Laughter, murmurs of “Jake and Lou”,and the clink of glasses filled the room. Jake kissed his bride, the couple wearing matching only-have-eyes-for-you smiles.

Usually Polly’s heart did a happy dance right about now,so why was there a stabbing sensation just above the waist of her Suzy Perette dress? It couldn’t be the food. She’d been super careful not to overdose on smoked salmon blinis and chocolate-drizzled profiteroles. She might as well be wearing a hair shirt instead of her Spanx, as far as self-denial was concerned.

She took a gulp of champagne. And then it struck her.

Polly Fletcher, you are jealous.

Which was patently ridiculous. Sure, she could get a PhD in matchmaking, but all this commitment crap was never going to be her gig.

“Piss off,I am not.”

“Excuseme?” The woman next to her said in a shocked tone. Polly grimaced. Clearly another of her brain-to-mouth malfunctions. More than three glasses of champagne and they became a regular occurrence.

“Sorry,” she hiss-whispered. “Emergency call from my brother. Amazing things, smart watches, aren’t they? I’ll take it outside.”

Wrist held to her ear, (it was actually a fake Patek Philippe she’d bought in Bali for two dollars, but who’d know at a distance?), Polly squeezed through the crowded room. Stumbling onto the hotel patio, she heaved a sigh of relief, downed the rest of her glass, and muttered,“Idiot.”

“Who’s an idiot?”

The voice was husky, male and very close to her ear.

Polly swung around. Luminous silver eyes fringed by black lashes stared back at her, crinkles of amusement fanning the tan skin at each corner. Quick as a flash she took in the rest of his face. Not exactly handsome. Short, dark hair, nose a little crooked; a lean jaw shadowed with stubble, but add in a mouth that looked like it was made for pleasuring a girl and Polly’s powers of speech sank to a spot well below her waist.

Hot. As. Hell.

The guy cocked an eyebrow, brought a cigarette to his lips, and took a slow drag.

Hot he might be, but a vice like that was too good to miss.

“You are, clearly.” She smirked.

Both eyebrows shot up this time. “Why?”

“For smoking, MrDinosaur.”

Hot-as-hell turned his cheek, and exhaled, which gave her time for a once-over of his bod. Polly’s mouth went dry at the vision of broad shoulders gift-wrapped in leather, long denim-clad legs, and dusty biker boots.

When she dragged her gaze back up he was pointing at her champagne. “Why’s that stuff any better?”

“Hel-lo. You don’t see smoke coming out of my glass, do you?” Polly wiggled her glass in his face.

He grinned. “Just a different choice of poison.”

Polly narrowed her eyes. “Meaning what, exactly? That we’re all stuffed up?”

“That’s an assumption that says more about you than me.”

“Oh, very clever.” Polly huffed.

“What?”

“The way you turned the tables so it looks like I’m the one with the problem.”

Hot-as-hell laughed and tapped ash off his cigarette. “You’re a guest at the wedding?”

---