"What exactly is going on?" Dana demanded. "Why is she here?"

AJ twisted his head around to follow Dana's gaze. When he saw Sarah, he turned back. "Dana, I–"

Before he could say anything further, Sarah strolled up to their table. She was accompanied by a young sandy-haired man who kept slightly away from the group. "My, my, how. . .fascinating," Sarah purred. "The wedding planner is still on the job even through there's no wedding."

"This isn't what you think," Dana protested weakly, as Sarah shot her a telling glance. The role of the "other woman" was not one she'd aspired to play and she was chagrined at being portrayed as such.

Sarah focused her attention on AJ. "No wonder you seemed to be using interest, darling." She patted his cheek, her crimson fingernails bloodlike against his skin.

"Nice tan," AJ said flippantly, turning a deaf ear to her taunt. "Your TV coverage must be waning. I didn't realize you were back from the beaches of Mexico." Unlike Dana, he didn't act at all disturbed by Sarah's innuendos. Rather he sounded amazingly unruffled.

Dana decided to take her cue from him. The woman had lost all claims on AJ and if she was looking for scapegoats, a mirror was a good place to start. On the day of the wedding, she'd appeared as willing as her fiancé to forgo their scheduled ceremony. Maybe more willing, considering she been a near no-show. AJ McLean was now a free man with all strings severed.

For moments no one spoke, frozen awkwardly in place. Eventually Sarah's escort came closer, extended a hand and introduced himself. Not the same escort with Sarah in Mexico. Hmmm, three men in a matter of weeks. Like AJ, the woman had been busy lining up replacements. Yes, Dana thought, she definitely had no gripe coming.

Sarah, however, didn't seem to grasp that fact. Dana was astonished when she pulled out a chair and sat down. "Why don't we make it a foursome?" she said, motioning for her escort to sit also.

He did as bidden, but there was a trace of pink at his collar giving evidence of discomfort. After a bit of meaningless chatter and some questioning glances from Sarah to Dana, AJ signaled for a check. Happily, the action prompted Sarah and friend to seek another table.

"Okay, we'll move along if you're going to run out," she chided, and the pair selected a site by the window.

"Sorry about that. She can say and do the damnedest things." AJ fished out a credit card from his wallet and flipped it onto the table, the attentive waiter scooping it up and returning promptly with the receipt.

Once they were out of the restaurant, Dana spoke. "Was that 'accidental' meeting really an accident?" She knew coincidences occurred, but needed reassurance that AJ had been as taken aback by Sarah's showing up as she.

His forehead knitted in a frown. "How could you think anything else? As you saw with what's-his-name – that kid she had in tow – Sarah hasn't let a blade of grass grow under her feet, romance-wise. And as for me, I have no desire to see or talk to her."

"Or to make her jealous?"

"That's not even in the equation. I thought you knew me enough by now to understand that Sarah plays no part in my life anymore."

"What part do I have?" Dana asked, still disconcerted by the afternoon's happenings. AJ had answered her concerns, but a sliver of suspicion lingered. She needed more convincing. "When you talk about a closer relationship–"

"Yes," he interrupted. "I'd definitely call marriage a closer relationship." He opened the car door and helped Dana inside, leaning over to add, "I thought I'd made it plain what part I want you to have."

AJ circled the Lexus and seated himself at the driver's wheel, then turned her way, propping an elbow on the back of his seat, the car keys dangling from one finger. "I know you're unsure about this."

"More than unsure," Dana admitted. "Frankly, it doesn't seem real. I get the impression you're playacting and I'm an understudy cast in the lead – who knows for how long."

"I'm not acting and there's no way I'd let you be replaced. I've told you some of the reasons I want a wife – to share my life, to bear my children, to fill a void. . .

"That's not all of it through. Frankly I'm not certain I know all the reasons myself. Something deep within tells me that the two of us finding one another is a stroke of luck we need to take advantage of or we'll both regret it. You're the one for me. Give us a chance, Dana."

That little flutter rose in her heart again. "Why am I the one?" she whispered. She wanted the words. The "I love you." He smiled as if amused. "Well, because I'm a guy and you're a gal – that's usually a good basis for getting together." Transferring the keys to the ignition he began playing with a strand of her reddish blonde hair, wrapping it around his finger.

"That premise established, what do you have in mind?"

AJ beat a tattoo against the steering wheel as he thought. "Maybe we need to begin all over. Be conventional, go out on a date, a movie, the theater, whatever. Afterward, a nightcap. Then I'll walk you to your door and kiss you good-night. . .like this." He leaned closer and brushed his lips against hers.

At first, Dana gave into the kiss, savoring AJ's touch, then feeling a need for air, she turned her head. It was then that she saw Sarah scowling at them from inside the restaurant. "Is all this for the benefit of the audience?" Dana gestured toward the window.

AJ followed her line of vision and without a word started the car and shifted into drive. They rode three or four blocks before he pulled over to the curb and cut the engine. "Satisfied? There's no audience." He ran a fingertip along the plane of her cheek. "Now where were we? Ah, yes, dating, the good-night kiss. . ."

Dana pressed herself against the door handle, withdrawing from him. AJ's eyes said too much. Dating definitely wasn't foremost on his mind. "Is all this before or after we run off to Nevada?" she asked tartly, determined to disregard AJ's kisses and the way they made her feel, all warm and willing.

"Either way you want it," he said. "We can get married first and kiss later. Or we can practice everything now, perfect our technique in advance."

"Everything? Just what will you include in those practice sessions?" She could think of several things. . .all appealing, too darn appealing. If only he was the teeniest bit in love with her. Love. For all AJ's attempts to sway her, he'd conscientiously avoided that particular four-letter word. She needed to remember that and keep her wits about her. Dana eyed him suspiciously. "Why do I have the impression you'd take full advantage of 'everything'?"

"Have I taken advantage of you, Dana?"

"You mean other then staying where you were unwanted?"

"'Unwanted.' Are you certain about that?" He sounded cold and arrogant, much like the AJ of the old. But the wounded expression that flashed across his face belied the frosty pose.

Dana touched his sleeve. "That was rude of me. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

A sardonic smile greeted her statement. "I'd gotten the impression you don't credit me with having feelings."

AJ's impression was near correct – until a second ago anyway. Still Dana felt compelled to deny it. "You misread me."

"Like you've been misreading me?" he asked, switching on the motor. "Don't you think we should clear up your confusion once and for all? What exactly are you so concerned about, Dana?" His tone was now accusatory.

Lots of things. "For starters, why you allegedly were hiding out at Torrence Place to avoid the press. You weren't camera-shy at Hobby Airport."

"So you saw the TV clip." He cut the engine again.

"Yes, and you looked quite comfortable, smug even."

"All an act. I couldn't very well come across like a whipped dog, now could I?" He leaned the door, watching her intently. "I was hoping you didn't see it – afraid you might conclude Melissa and I were off on a rendezvous instead of tending to business."

Although the thought had crossed her mind, Dana wasn't about to tell AJ so. "Isn't she's your accountant?" An attractive, sexy accountant.

"Yeah, and a darn good one, too. That's the reason I took her along. I needed her advice, her expertise. As I told you, we saved the project."

"I'm glad everything worked out. But that still doesn't answer my question about your motives for staying at Torrence Place. Or really explain your abrupt departure."

"I suppose my motives were mixed. I preferred to hide out until the flak died down, thinking Sarah would be equally inaccessible. And I can't deny it gave me a chance to get to know you better." His hand circled her neck, his thumb gently grazing an earlobe. "As I told you, I left because of a critical business situation. But, Dana–"

"Yes?"

"You must know that even without the emergency, it was time for me to go."

"I know," she said, trying unsuccessfully to ignore his grip. "After all, I asked you to leave often enough."

"But that was for self-protection, wasn't it?"

"I don't understand what you mean," she said.

"I think you do. You know exactly what would have happened if I'd stayed longer."

"I do?"

"Don't be coy, Dana. Things between us were becoming too hot to handle, so I slacked off, giving you space to grow more amenable to my proposal. I hoped that you had enough space by now. Tell me, have you come to your senses and decide to marry me after all?" Those brown eyes were gleaming like two perfect gems.

Dana exhaled loudly. "We aren't ready for that kind of commitment. Just a few minutes ago, we were exploring a first date and. . ." She was leading right back to those kisses.

"You never run out of excuses, do you? 'Don't know each other well enough. . .aren't ready. . .' Maybe you aren't ready, but I am. So what can I do to hurry up the process and claim to know Dana Evans? Let's see how good I am at guessing. Your favorite color is blue."

"Pink."

"You're allergic to strawberries."

"Penicillin."

"You listen to hard rock."

"The old big band music," she returned, recognizing that he was making sport. "Thus far you're batting zero."

"So I've got a lot to learn about you. Think how much fun you'll have enlightening me. It'll be an adventure discovering all of those things. By the way, I'm also allergic to penicillin. We have more in common then you realized."

Dana sighed. "We have nothing in common where it counts. You have more money then Midas and I'm a small business owner, a struggling one at that. You play in society and I work in society. Just the opposite from me. You don't believe in love and I want a man who loves me so much that he can't bear waking up in the morning without me by his side. You have this comme çi, comme ça attitude toward marriage while I want a marriage bond so strong that neither partner would ever consider a future complete without the other in the picture."

"You want guarantees." AJ's tone had gone chilly again. He turned the ignition key, signaling an end to the conversation.

Dana wasn't to be deterred. "Yes, I suppose I do."

"Hasn't anyone ever told you that life holds no guarantees?"

"Yes, but I've always refused to believe it, especially when it comes to love, true love."

They pulled into the driveway at Torrence Place and AJ opened the door. Dana did the same, and he walked her up the front steps, his palm casually against the small of her back, as through the disagreement had never happened. When they arrived at the threshold, she stopped and thanked him politely for lunch. Under the circumstances, Dana hadn't expected his smile. Or his scorching kiss – right there on the porch, in front of God, man and all her neighbors.

"So long, sugar. I'll call you."

"Please don't," she said, escaping into the house before he could protest.

Chapter 14
Chapter 12
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