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.If that meant letting her further into his life, letting her affect him and his routine a bit more, well, he wasn’t going to mind it.“Speaking of food,” he said, keeping it casual, “we have a dinner tomorrow night.Does it count as my cooking night if I pick up the check?”Her pretty eyes narrowed.“What kind of dinner?”“A business dinner.” He hadn’t planned on taking her, to tell the truth, but he would have to include her in some of his social business occasions eventually.Marriage was going to affect him at least that much.And it would give him a chance to prove to her he was right about Dr.SOB being wrong about her.“But there will be other spouses there, and…well, you’re mine.”“Am I?” Rebecca whispered.“Yes.” He leaned forward, despite those sharp knitting needles that were between them, because something said that the moment called for a kiss.That something was shouting at him, urging him to take her mouth and prove to her that he could make her feel better in lots of ways.That it wasn’t a mistake to let each other get a little bit closer.Rebecca shivered as she slid into the white and black satin dress.The June night was warm, but her hands were icy and there was a cold ball where her stomach was supposed to be.Maybe she should tell Trent she was ill and couldn’t attend the business dinner with him.He’d assume it was because of the pregnancy and she wouldn’t have to tell him what was really making her sick—nerves.She slid her palms down her thighs, and the light caught on the simple platinum band on her left hand.Nerves or not, she was married to him.That meant something to her—despite her bad first attempt at the institution and despite the particular circumstances of this try.She owed it to Trent, to herself and to their baby, to give her best shot at doing right by him tonight.Balancing against the dresser top with one hand, she slipped into the black patent-leather sandals she’d purchased that day.The clerk who’d helped her select the dress had specified nothing less than three-inch heels and a matching purse no larger than a three-by-five index card.A novice at this kind of shopping, she’d obeyed.Now she took a deep breath and, closing her eyes, spun around to face the full-length mirror on the closet door.Okay, Eisenhower, let’s see if your mom can pull this off.Her stomach jittered as her lashes lifted.She swallowed hard.“Oh boy,” she whispered.“Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy.”White satin strips covered her breasts but left enough skin showing that she’d had to buy a special low-cut bra to wear under the dress.Beneath her breasts was a band of black satin, and then more white fell in an A-line to skim her knees.If there was any pregnancy change to her midriff, this dress didn’t show it.The clerk had pointed out to an indecisive Rebecca that the garment wasn’t skimpy or clingy, but now on a second look, she saw that the dress did nothing to hide the one area of her body that had begun to change.She had cleavage.Honest-to-goodness cleavage.She walked closer to the mirror, staring at herself, and the freshwater-pearl-and sterling-silver lariat necklace that she’d found on sale brushed the inside curves of her breasts.Her skin started to tingle.The sensation reminded her of Trent, of Trent kissing her the night before, and the tingles raced over her again.It had been a brief kiss, but even the memory of it could melt the cold knot in her stomach.What was he going to think about her now?As if on cue, she heard his voice call up the stairs.“Rebecca? Are you about ready?”She pressed her lips together to suppress a giddy giggle.She was ready.But was he? Maybe this time all the electrical jolts wouldn’t be one-sided.Maybe now she’d send a bolt or two his way.As she reached the top of the stairs, he glanced up.It was one of those moments that a woman waits a lifetime for.His eyes widened.She saw his hand jerk up to catch hold of the newel.Her confidence soared.“Hell,” he said aloud.“Who are you?”“That might be the nicest compliment I’ve ever had in my life.” Oh, yes, she thought she could do right by him tonight.He continued staring.“Your hair…”It was down around her shoulders, side-parted, in loose ringlets.His free hand made a vague gesture.“Your face…”Maybe she needed to wear mascara more often.Tonight, she’d double-coated it, and selected a plum lipstick that was two shades darker than her usual color.Then his gaze drifted down.His knuckles whitened on the newel.“Your—” Blinking, he caught himself.“Your, uh, dress.It’s…it’s…it’s…”Afraid he might say “overflowing,” she took pity on him and started down the steps.“Yes, well, it kind of surprised me, too.Shall we go?”At the bottom of the stairway he took her hand.“Must we?” he asked, his voice soft.The tingles raced over her again, prickling her scalp, sliding beneath her dress, causing goose bumps to rise beneath the natural-colored stockings she wore.She looked at his mouth and remembered again how he’d kissed her the night before.His mouth had been firm, but restrained.She’d wanted to lean into it, lean into him, but just as she’d felt herself moving, he’d moved himself.Away, up, out the bedroom door.Now his thumb stroked over her knuckles.“I know a place that can deliver an entire candlelight dinner in twenty minutes.”Her mouth went dry.“I thought this dinner was about business.Your business.”He blinked.“Business.” Then he dropped her hand and rubbed his palm over his hair and across the back of his neck.“How could I forget business?”Rebecca walked around him to pick up her tiny purse from the foyer table where she’d placed it.He wasn’t looking at her.“Business,” she thought she heard him mutter again.“I never forget business.”Once in his car, he kept his gaze trained out the windshield.“So you know, there will be eight in our party at the club.”“The club?”“The Tanglewood Country Club.”“Ah.” Of course, the Tanglewood Country Club.She’d heard of it from her ex.He’d wanted to join for years, and had been seeking someone to sponsor him.Cold started to creep over her again.“These are out-of-town clients whom I’ve only met a couple of times before myself
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