Would this function ever end? Until then, with every step she took, every move she made, she'd be anguishing about AJ saying or doing something outrageous. Dana felt a jittery as a vet-bound Chihuahua.

Ladies' man or not, did AJ really think he could juggle dates with two women in one night? And why? Acknowledging Jenna as important to him, he'd supported that statement by his actions. From Dana's perspective, Jenna received much more deference than Sarah ever had, yet here AJ was, ready to dump her for the evening in order to pursue a dalliance with Dana.

It wasn't in Dana's nature to be drawn into a triangle or a quadrangle or whatever it was AJ had in mind, because, denials aside, he might not have Sarah out of his system.

The man was one hundred and one percent trouble. He'd almost single-handedly wrecked her business, then tormented her unmercifully and – she might as well as admit it – bruised her heart in the bargain. Well, the business was recovering, the aggravation could be dealt with, and Dana would not allow that bruise to turn into a massive hemorrhage. Whatever AJ asked of her from now on, the answer was going to be no. A loud resounding no.

Halfway across the lawn, she noticed Jenna coming her way, determination written on her face. What now? Obviously Jenna had seen them dancing – who could have missed it? Was she intent on confronting Dana about AJ's intentions? Jenna might not be the type to create a scene, but it was a risk that Dana couldn't risk. Besides, she'd spent too many hours already putting up with AJ McLean's women.

A crowd of people mingled nearby and Dana blended in with them, only a temporary evasion, however, for twice more during the festivities Jenna attempted to corner her. In each instant Dana made a counteracting detour and avoided her. By the time the reception was over and the guests had departed, she felt as if she'd spent the day hiking in the rugged Big Bend Country bordering Mexico.

Her headlights illuminating the front porch revealed AJ sprawled lazily in the wooden swing. Dana parked in the drive and glanced over his way. A cardboard box filled with Chinese food containers sat beside him.

Dana wished she could curb the stupid streak of emotion which kept sabotaging her. All reason said she should be angry, ready to lash out at AJ – not pleased to find him waiting for her. But the streak wouldn't be denied.

AJ looked rugged and handsome, wedding attire exchange for boots, thigh-hugging Levi's and a Western-styled shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows. Slightly weak-kneed, she climbed from the vehicle and walked over to the porch.

"Tired?"

"Exhausted." Dana suddenly became aware of how droopy she must appear. Her hair surrendered to the Houston humidity, and her flax-colored linen suit was wrinkled and stained with cranberry punch spilled on her by an apologetic guest Even through she'd worn low-heeled pumps, her feet were killing her.

AJ grabbed the box of food and stood up. "Why don't you change into something more comfortable while I make us a drink."

"Rum and Coke," she said, unlocking the door and leading him inside. Dana decided on a fast shower to wash away the grime and the tension of the day. Feeling slightly better after the shower's stringing spray, she dried off, then freshened her makeup. Dressed in walking shorts and a cotton blouse, she sought out AJ in the kitchen.

He handed her the rum and Coke and joined her at the table, opening cartons containing an assortment of oriental entrees. "I didn't know your druthers, so I got a variety."

"I'm not choosy." She picked up a snow pea pod with her chopsticks and nibbled at it. "Except when it comes to sharing my men."

"Men – are there more then one of us?" AJ teased.

"How many women are you involved with?" she countered.

"One – and it's not Jenna, not Sarah, nor anyone else you've conjured up. Why don't you trust me, Dana? What can I do to convince you I'm not the Casanova you've made me out to be?"

"It'll be difficult, considering there's always a group of females around eyeing you like you're the honey-tree and they're a bunch of hungry bear cubs. Add into that the fact that I've just spent an uncomfortable four hours trying to tend to business and at the same time, dodge you and your girlfriend."

"Which girlfriend? Since you seem to think I have so many."

"Jenna!" Dana snapped, too weary to control her temper. She jumped up from the table and started pacing the room, disgusted with herself over the outburst.

"I'm growing tired of defending myself," AJ snapped back, grabbing Dana's arm and stopping her in her tracks. "Either you trust me or there's no future for us. Jenna isn't my girlfriend, she's–"

Dana's fingers on his lips silenced him. "Say no more," she said. AJ was right. The issue was trust. Either she would have to believe in him or forget about him. "Let's enjoy the dinner you brought." She wanted the evening to be pleasant again.

AJ apparently agreed, his ill humor vanishing as quickly as it had surfaced. As they ate AJ and Dana talked of this and that, the conversation flowing easily. They shared family stories and tales of their childhoods. She told him nostalgically of her visits with her grandparents at Torrence Place and he admitted to being a mischievous little boy, playing pranks on his friends and cousins.

The glimpse into his past helped Dana realized how much she liked AJ, despite all her apprehensions. And liking for Dana was almost as essential an ingredient for a good life together as love itself was.

A hour later, the meal consumed, she strolled outside with him and the two sat on the steps of the gazebo. The night was pleasant, the humidity even tolerable. AJ's glance went skyward. "Do you ever miss the stars?"

Dana looked up also. Only a smattering of lights could be seen in the heavens, typical of large cities where the reflection from the spangled skyline competed with Mother Nature. "Occasionally, but then I suppose I accept it as part of life. Guess I appreciate the efficiency of freeways and malls enough to give up the inconveniences."

"I'll have to take you out to my ranch. From the patio, you can gaze up into eternity and discover that it sparkles like the incandescent offering a billion fireflies."

"That's almost poetic. You–"

Dana's comment was lost when AJ kissed her.

The kiss was like none other they'd shared. There was no tentativeness now. He seemed to sense her hunger, a hunger Dana was no longer able to suppress. She crushed herself against him as her arms went around him, her fingers caressing his soft dark hair. Passion flared so urgently Dana felt as radiant as those fictional fireflies. One kiss became two, then three, and Dana was lost on the marvel of his lovemaking.

"See how it can be between us," he said huskily, his labored breathing matching her own.

"That's what scares me. Passion isn't the same as love, Alex."

"It's not a bad starting point," he murmured, helping Dana to her feet.

"But it isn't enough – for either one of us." Dana had to make Alex understand.

He pulled her back into his arms, as through trying to persuade her otherwise with kisses. For a few moments, Dana gave into him, savoring the intense feelings rocketing through her. This has to end. Then more resolutely, Whoa, Dana. She wriggled out of his arms, playfully fanning for air.

Alex laughed. "Okay, you gained another reprieve. You're about to use up your quota, through, pretty lady. One of these nights. . ."

Arms linking at their waists, Dana and Alex walked inside and toward the front door. After long, lingering kisses in the foyer, Alex whispered, "Let it happen, Dana. All you need to do is to say 'yes.'" The door closed and he was gone.

Dana tarried there, more nonplussed than ever, her body tingling from the searing kisses and smothering embraces. As she switched the lamps off, only gravity kept her from floating to her quarters in the fashion of a lovesick cinematic heroine.

Then reality intruded once again. She wanted to trust Alex – truly she did. Dana yearned to expel all feelings of skepticism and to revel in the magical night, rather than ruin it with introspection and suspicion.

But given Alex's recent history, any intelligent woman, even one with token smarts, would avoid repetitions of tonight's brain-numbing lovemaking. Unfortunately, Dana's good sense was on holiday. She could hardly wait to be in Alex's arms again.

When Dana returned from church at noon the next day, her answering machine was blinking with messages. There were three on the tape, an unusual number for a Sunday morning. All were from Jenna Peters.

Despite the implication of rudeness and her mother's lectures on manners running through her head, Dana delayed responding to the calls. To her way of thinking, she and Jenna had nothing to talk about.

When the telephone rang a few moments later, Dana let the machine take it, listening to see if it was Alex or another call she should pick up. The person hung up without leaving a message. Probably Jenna again. No matter how insistent Alex was about their not having a relationship, Jenna obviously had a different perception.

Dana changed into a black tank top and khaki shorts, then sat down to finish the huge Sunday edition of the Chronicle. She'd made her way to the Parade magazine section when the doorbell chimed.

Now who? Alex? Dana slipped her bare feet into her Birkenstock sandals and went expectantly to the foyer. Her hopes were dashed. Instead of Alex, she was dumbfounded to see Jenna's distorted image through the thick leaded glass. Talk about a woman with a mission. Jenna must be hell-bent on convincing an adversary that her man is spoken for.

Might as well get it over with. Dana would let Jenna have her say, be totally noncommittal, then speed her on her way before the lady knew what hit her. She probably should have done that in the first place and spared herself a heaped of turmoil. But Dana hadn't expected such persistence from one individual.

She also hadn't expected the hug Jenna wrapped her in when Dana opened the door.

"I'm so happy I could dance." Jenna twirled her in circles, making Dana so dizzy she collapsed on the foyer's brocade bench.

"Whoops!" Jenna extended a hand, assisting Dana to her feet. "Forgive my exuberance, but I thought this day would never happen. Now if only you can help me."

Her eyes were pleading and her tone so earnest that Dana didn't know how to react. Pushing her out the door no longer seemed an option. But what in heaven's name was all the giddiness about? "Why don't we go into the parlor and talk," Dana suggested.

"As soon as Alex gets here."

"Alex?" Dana felt the sensation one gets when an airplane unexpectedly hits an air pocket – a terrible clutch in the pit of her stomach.

"He's parking the car down the street." Jenna gestured to the line of cars in front of the house. "No available spaces nearby. Must be a party in the neighborhood."

Alex then appeared in their line of vision and bounded up the steps. His expression was inscrutable. "Hello again," he said to Dana.

"Hello," she said, trying to hide her befuddlement. "I was just about to show Jenna into the parlor." She motioned for them to precede her and take a seat. "Would you both care for a cup of coffee?"

Jenna shook her head. "I'm really anxious to find out if you can do what I'm asking – or if you'll laugh in our faces when you discover why we're here."

Laughing was the farthest thing from Dana's mind right now. She felt uncomfortable, more so than she had when meeting with Alex and Sarah.

"I realize this imposition," Jenna said breathlessly, "and I promise I'll do everything I can to assist but. . .could you put together a wedding for Saturday? Money's not a problem."

Dana dropped onto a chair, her knees beginning to quiver. She wasn't about to be a collaborator to Alex wedding another woman. Not this time. All the money in the world couldn't make her agree to such a preposterous request. If Jenna only knew what a rotten. . . Listen to yourself! You're getting absolutely paranoid. Trust, remember? Dana paused, assessing the situation.

Jenna had nothing to gain by going deliberately out of her way to hurt her. And Alex, Alex would never be so cruel. Last night he'd assured her he was sincere in his courtship, that he wasn't stringing her along.

However, that didn't explain why he was here with Jenna. Nor did it make arranging a wedding in a matter of days doable. "This Saturday? No way."

Jenna bit her lip and looked toward Alex for support.

"I know it kind of impulsive," he said, "but impulsiveness seems to be a fatal flaw in our family."

"Family?"

Alex nodded. "Jenna is my favorite cousin." He halted momentarily, allowing time for his remark to sink in before saying, "Now why don't I make that coffee? We could all use a cup while you and Jenna hash things out."

Dana shot him a glance as he left the room, sorry that a glance was her only weapon of retaliation. Cousin indeed. She could have gleefully throttled the man. He who once accused her of jealousy had done all he could to foster it – and succeeded. Dazedly she prompted Jenna to go on. "Perhaps you'd better–"

"Of course," Jenna burbled. "You see I've been in love with Jack Denning since high school. We planned to marry right after we finished college and Jack got his wings. He's a navy pilot. Anyway, just when everything was about to materialize, we had a silly argument and our engagement broken. Now fate has brought us back together and we want to share every second we can."

"Jack's stationed on an aircraft carrier in the Mediterranean and has leave coming up. Next week. Leave we're going to use for the wedding and a honeymoon in Italy. That's why the date's not negotiable."

So what Alex's role? And why is he tagging along now?"

"He's the one who gave fate a hand and told me to go for it. A total reversal of the jaded tune he sang when Jack and I split. His position then was something to the effect that 'there are always other fish on the sea – other fly-boy sailors, too.' But that was before Alex met you. Lately he's become a regular matchmaker."

Dana felt a brief surge of euphoria. If Alex was encouraging other lovers. . .

"Back to the wedding." Jenna took Dana's hand. "I wanted to talk yesterday about the possibility of your helping us, but you were so busy I couldn't corral you. In fact, I almost got the impression you were avoiding me, doubly so when you didn't return my phone calls. That's why I insisted Alex drive me over here today – I wanted to ensure you'd see me."

When Dana offered no response or denial, Jenna continued, "Please say you'll do this for me. Please have this weekend free. Don't tell me that Torrence Place is booked."

"No, it's not. Still I never put together a wedding so hastily. It may not be possible."

"Anything's possible. Jack and I reconciling had convinced me of that."

"But here? To your set, Torrence Place is poison."

"Ridiculous. It's a beautiful house, just right for us. I knew the minute I saw it. Anyway, I don't care what others think. Maybe my wedding will dispel any rumors of a hex."

"What about invitations?"

"Too late for those. I'll call everyone. It'll only be a small gathering – mostly family and very close friends."

"I take it you've talked her into doing the wedding," Alex said to Jenna as he entered the room carrying three mugs. "I told you she's a sucker for romance." He grinned.

"Don't get too comfortable," Dana warned Alex. "I'm not through with you yet." But she was smiling on the inside.

"So where do we begin?" Jenna's bubbly enthusiasm filled the room, enveloping everything, including Dana. It was infectious. Dana found herself getting emotional at the woman's joy. She also was counting the minutes until she could speak to Alex alone and give him an earful.

When the phone rang shortly after Jenna and Alex left, Dana grabbed it. It was Alex. "Why didn't you tell me she was a relative?" Dana demanded before he could say more than hello.

"Realizing you'd jumped to the wrong conclusion, I found jerking your chain irresistible. Then I began to comprehend that your anger revealed more than you were admitting. It said you cared."

"So maybe I cared. But when were you going to tell me about Jenna?"

"I was going to last night–"

Dana remembered that she was the one who'd called a halt to his explanations. "I'm beginning to figure out how demonic you can be," she grumbled, trying to cover up the humor. "Coming over here with her and letting me think. . .all kinds of things."

"Jenna asked me to come and I couldn't turn her down. Besides, you asked for it. Accusing me of chasing after enough females to exhaust an Olympian. Keeping my proposal hanging." Dana could envision the impish grin accompanying his words."

"So has your faith in the institution of marriage been restored?" Alex asked.

"My faith wasn't gone – just a little shaken," she retorted.

Alex laughed. "If you want, we could make it a double wedding. I'm sure Jenna wouldn't mind."

"There's no way I'd steal another woman's thunder on her wedding day."

"So I'll have to come over and wear down your resistance," Alex said, disconnecting the phone before Dana could argue.

She rolled her eyes. What was she doing with Alex? Once he set his mind to something, there appeared to be no way of changing it. So why then had he let Sarah slip away? Dana finally dared to believe it was partly because of her.

Alex arrived within the hour, carrying a picnic basket of gourmet goodies and a bottle of vintage wine. Dana had catered enough to know the repast cost several hundred dollars. Not exactly the Sunday afternoon leftovers she was used to.

"Is this to wear me down or to assuage your guilt?" she gibed.

"Neither," Alex returned. "It's to say thanks for doing Jenna's wedding. And for not holding my little prank against me. I knew you couldn't keep withstanding my charm."

"Typical egotistical male. Until you showed up with Jenna today, I'd forgotten all about you."

Alex kissed her nose. "Aren't you afraid of telling such fibs will make it grow long, like Pinocchio's? Face it, there's no way you could have dismissed what happened between us last night. I know I haven't been able to stop thinking about it."

She didn't answer.

"You're still a little cross. I believe I have the treatment for that." Alex took the wine and began uncorking the bottle.

"I'm not cross, but I am discovering all of your bad habits – like being a merciless tease and popping surprises. I had enough of your torment, Alex."

"No more. . .torment. . .then." He put down the wine and moved closer to her.

"You're twisting my words. When I said torment, I was talking about the way you purposely misled me about Jenna, the way you make sport of marriage with impulsive proposals. And don't feed me that stuff about it being a 'family flaw.'"

"My family has another flaw – going after what we want." He laced his fingers with hers. "I'm sorry for causing you to think I'm not sincere about marriage. I am, absolutely. I've told you repeatedly what I want. I want you to be my wife."

"Oh, right," she scoffed, secretly pleased, but not wanting to make things to easy for him. She was beginning to enjoy the repartee. "I'm the flavor of the week. What about all the weeks to come – will you be as certain once the novelty wears off?"

"You're a gigantic fraud, Dana Evans." He pressed their joined hands against his chest.

"And why is that?"

"All this romance jazz, 'love forever after,' blah blah blah. . .yet when a man comes along offering precisely that, you can't accept it."

"That's not true. No one–" She caught herself. Did he say 'love' and 'forever after'? The words dangled like a beautiful lure and Dana knew she was hooked.

Chapter 16
Chapter 14
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