“I’ll let him know. Seven o’clock. In the dining room.”
Ula left as quietly as she’d come. Cathy stared after her. She’d been nervous about what had happened when she’d barged in on him. She hadn’t been thinking, and he would have had every right to be annoyed with her. But if the invitation was anything to go by, he’d forgiven her.
“Dinner. With Stone!”
She put her book on the table by the leather wing chair, then stood up. They were going to eat dinner together. Just like a real date!
“Don’t start that,” she murmured to herself. “He’s being kind. This isn’t a date.”
She knew it wasn’t, but as her entire dating experience had come from living vicariously through the experiences of other people, either on television or in books, she figured it wouldn’t be such an awful thing if she pretended. As long as he never knew.
She glanced at her wristwatch. It was nearly six. She wanted to take a shower and get dressed. Now, what was she going to wear? One of Stone’s staff members had gone to her house and brought back most of her clothes. She didn’t have much that classified as appropriate attire for dining with a millionaire. There was that green dress, she thought as she slowly climbed the stairs. Her knee was better, but at the end of the day it often ached.
When she got to her room, she moved to the closet and looked at her meager selection. Unfortunately the shopping fairies hadn’t brought her anything wonderful. The green dress was still her best bet, she thought. However, it was tight and it pulled at the waist and around her behind.
“We’ll be sitting down,” she mumbled. “Maybe he won’t notice.”
She stared at the dress, knowing it was that or a frumpy skirt and blouse, both of which had been old and out of style three years ago.
She sighed, then stripped off her shirt and new jeans. She unzipped the dress and dropped it over her head.
As she went to the mirror, she tugged at the waist. To her astonishment, it was loose. She could actually pull a little fabric away from her skin.
She drew in a deep breath. Her rib cage expanded, but didn’t press against the bodice. Cautiously, barely daring to hope, she turned and stared at her profile. The dress hung smoothly off her hips and the small of her back. There was no bunching, no snugness.
“It fits!”
She grinned at her reflection. All the low-fat food and exercise had been worth it! She crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself as she spun in a circle.
“Mr. Stone Ward, here I come.”
* * *
An hour later, Cathy entered the dining room. Ula had set the large table with two place settings, next to each other at the far end. Fine crystal and glass glowed. There were candles but little other lighting.
For a single heartbeat, Cathy allowed herself to believe thiswasthe romantic dinner she’d fantasized about in her shower. Maybe Stone had been swept away by her transformation and he’d—
Get over it, she thought, and firmly squashed the thought. The light was dim because Stone was nervous about his scars. For no other reason. She reminded herself that her imagination was allowed free rein only when she was alone, but when she was with Stone—especially now that they were going to be in the light instead of in the protective cover of shadow—she had better keep her mind on reality. She wouldn’t want to embarrass him, or herself.
“Good evening.”
She spun toward the sound and found him standing in the entrance to the dining room. He’d replaced his more casual shirt and jeans with a dress shirt and slacks. She was grateful that she’d thought to change into a dress, and even more grateful that it fit her well.
“Hi.” Butterflies took up residence in her tummy. It was the new circumstances, she told herself, hoping the soft-shoe show they were performing against her rib cage would be a short one.
He walked toward the table and held out one of the chairs. It took her a second to realize he meant for her to sit in it. She swallowed hard. She’d seen men do that in the movies, but she hadn’t known anyone did that in real life.
By the time he poured her a glass of wine, she didn’t know if she was going to shriek with delight or just quietly swoon. Neither sounded appealing, so she followed his lead and when he raised his glass to her, she did the same.
“To friends,” he said.
“Friends,” she echoed, and took a sip. The white wine was tart but smooth, and she liked the way it made her tongue tingle. She’d had wine before. It had always been served at the answering service’s holiday party. But she knew that whatever Stone had in his home was very different from the boxed liquid she’d had in the past.
Ula brought the first course—a salad with cut-up fresh vegetables. By now Cathy was used to the flavor of the fat-free dressing the housekeeper served. She gave the woman a smile, then picked up her fork.
As she chewed, she looked around the oversize room. There were two chandeliers, a buffet against the opposite wall and a built-in china cabinet at the far end of the room. Beneath her feet was an Oriental carpet that probably cost more than she’d made in the past three years combined.
“You’re looking serious about something,” Stone said. “Want to share your thoughts?”
