Bride By Design

He was obviously waiting for a name. Let him wait, Eve thought. “As far as public image is concerned, we do have to talk about it. I suppose we need to go claim your bags?” She signaled the driver, who touched his cap and led the way toward baggage claim.

Eve looked doubtfully at the two suitcases David pointed out as they came down the conveyer belt. “You travel awfully light.”

Without a word, the driver picked up the two bags.

“I shipped a few things.” David’s hand came to rest easily on the small of Eve’s back, guiding her toward the exit.

She could feel shivers rushing both up and down her spine from the place where his fingertips rested, and told herself briskly not to be silly. There was no reason a mere polite touch should make her body quiver all over again as that kiss had.

“Oh, of course,” she said. “I’d forgotten I gave you the address. Well, if there’s anything you need in the meantime, I’m sure the hotel will have it.”

“Hotel?”

“Henry made a reservation for you at the Englin.” She felt color rising in her cheeks. “He thought it wouldn’t be quite the thing for you to move into my place till after the wedding, and his penthouse isn’t much more than an efficiency—there’s no room for a guest. But the Englin is one of the city’s better hotels.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“It’s only for a few days, anyway, until the wedding.” She took a deep breath. “I should warn you about the wedding, I suppose.”

He helped her into the back of the limousine and settled into the leather seat beside her. “What about it?”

“Well, I thought the sensible thing would be to have it today and get it over with, and I had the arrangements almost completed when Henry got hold of the whole thing.”

David’s eyebrows went up. “Are we having white satin and orange blossom in the local cathedral after all?”

“No, thank heaven he was reasonable about all of that. But he thinks a private ceremony with just us and a judge looks like we’re hiding something, so he’s insisting that we have a few guests and a small reception.”

He didn’t answer immediately, and she looked at him quizzically.

“That’s not quite true,” David said finally. “It’s nice of Henry to take the responsibility, and I know he thinks it’s a good idea because he told me so. But he isn’t the one who’s insisting. I am.”

The shock of his announcement caused Eve to lose her balance as the limousine pulled away from the terminal. David slid an arm around her shoulders to steady her.

She pulled away from him, staring. “What do you mean, you’re insisting?”

“Don’t panic. I’m not any wilder about six-foot-tall wedding cakes and organs pounding out wedding marches than you are.”

“Then why—”

“Because all this is going to be difficult enough to pull off. Let’s not make it harder by appearing too ashamed of ourselves to stand up in public.”

“Oh.” Eve felt a little flattened. “Well, I suppose that makes sense. But we could still have had the wedding today.”

“I also think it would be a good idea for us all to have a few days to check out how we fit together before we do anything irrevocable.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Eve scoffed. “You wouldn’t back out now. You’d embrace an alligator before you’d let this chance go by. And speaking of embraces—”

“Let me guess,” he said without looking at her. “You want to be certain I didn’t interpret that little demonstration in the airport as any kind of an invitation.”

She tried to be unobtrusive about her sigh of relief. “Exactly. It’s not that I really expected you’d misunderstand, but—”

“Well, it’ll be easy enough to avoid any problems in the future. We can work up some regular plays, like a football team, and then you can just signal me with the numbers.”

The limo driver’s voice came over the intercom, sounding tinny. “Excuse me, Miss. Is the plan still to go to the Englin first?”

Eve looked out the window. She hadn’t realized they were already in the Loop. “Yes, please.” She glanced at David. “Henry suggested I give you a tour of the city and take you out for dinner. He seemed to think we needed a little privacy.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

“I couldn’t agree more, but I suppose—”

He interrupted. “Thank you very much, but no. I’m a little tired.”

Eve frowned, puzzled. He didn’t sound tired; he sounded as if he were an amateur actor reciting a brand-new set of lines. What was going on?

It wasn’t late, but the autumn afternoon had already faded and in the caverns of the city, between the skyscrapers, it was rapidly growing dark. Inside the car, it was dim enough that she had trouble reading David’s expression.

He was watching her just as intently. “What’s the matter?” he asked gently. “Isn’t that what you wanted me to say, so you can go home and tell Henry you’d done your best?” There was no animosity in his voice.

She thought back over what she’d said. Henry made a reservation…Henry suggested…He seemed to think we needed privacy…Get the wedding over with...

It must have sounded to David as though she was willing to associate with him only because Henry had issued orders. What an insufferable prig I must sound like.

The limo had pulled up under the hotel’s canopied front entrance, and the driver came around the car to open the door. The sudden light inside the car made Eve want to fling up a hand to protect her eyes—or perhaps to keep David from looking even more closely at her.

The driver walked around to the rear of the car to get the luggage. David made no move to get out. “You’re afraid,” he said. “That’s why you wanted to rush the wedding, isn’t it, Eve? Because you’ve given your word and now you can’t back out, no matter how much you might want to—so you’d just as soon not find out what you really think of me till after it’s too late for regrets.”

Eve bit her lip. “That’s awfully harsh.”

“But it’s true. That’s why you’re so eager to get away.”

“No,” she said slowly. “I’m not. Spending the evening together was Henry’s idea, yes. But I’d like to have dinner, David.”

Did he believe her? She wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t, for she was a little startled herself, not only by what she’d said but by the realization that she meant it.

He looked at her for a long moment, then slid out of the car. A moment later she felt the car rock just a little as the suitcases were lifted out of the trunk, and she heard the hearty voice of the Englin’s doorman welcoming David.

Eve closed her eyes. Now what?

Before she could make up her mind what to do, David reappeared, leaning into the car. “The doorman’s sending my luggage up to the room, and I can register later. Are we having dinner here or somewhere else?”

She was too startled to reply.

Behind him, the doorman suggested, “The Captain’s Table has a lovely steak on the menu tonight, I understand.”

“Sounds good to me. Eve?”

She scrambled out of the car and glanced at the uniformed driver. “That will be all, thank you.” She saw David’s eyebrow quirk upward and added coolly, “There’s no sense in keeping the car waiting for an hour or two when I can easily take a cab home later. So you needn’t worry that I’ll accuse you of expecting a simple dinner together at your hotel to turn into anything more.”

“I didn’t say a word.”

“You didn’t have to,” Eve muttered. “You have the most sarcastic eyebrows I’ve ever encountered.”

It was, she realized, the first time she had ever seen him smile. The flecks of gold in his eyes seemed to turn to sparks, and a dimple appeared at one corner of his mouth. The effect on Eve was something like reaching for a coat hanger only to find it wired into the electrical system. Which was utterly silly, of course, when all the man had done was grin at her.

The maître d’ greeted Eve by name and showed them to a small table in a cozy corner. Eve slid onto the upholstered bench which curved around the table and made a quick survey of the room.

“Who are you looking for?” David asked.

“Nobody in particular. Customers or acquaintances. There are usually half a dozen of them in here, but tonight I don’t see any. And since we’re in an inconspicuous corner maybe we’ll be left alone.” She picked up her menu so she didn’t have to look at him. “I don’t quite know what to say, David. I must have come across like—”

“An alligator,” David said agreeably. “Forget it. Let’s start from scratch. Hi, nice to see you again, tell me about the wedding.”

“I thought you already knew all about it. Seeing that it was your idea to have one—” She stopped and bit her lip. “Sorry. I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”

The wine steward approached, carrying a bottle. “Good evening, Miss Birmingham. And sir. The general manager of the hotel asked me to bring you one of our best wines, with her compliments.”

“I ought to have known we couldn’t sneak in here without being seen,” Eve said. “But I didn’t even spot her.”

“She called down from her office,” the wine steward said. “I believe the doorman keeps her informed about the comings and goings of her guests.” He expertly popped the cork and presented it to David.

Eve held her breath, but David was obviously no stranger to the ritual. As the wine steward withdrew, she fixed her gaze on the deep red liquid in her glass. Once more she had underestimated him.

“That was thoughtful of her,” David said. “Does she do this for all your dates?”

“Of course not. And it’s not just thoughtful, it’s also good business. The wedding’s going to be here, in one of the smaller ballrooms upstairs. What shall we drink to?”

“I suppose To us isn’t quite what you have in mind, so how about ‘Here’s to keeping Henry happy’?”

“Up to a point, I can agree with that.” Eve raised her glass, but she couldn’t quite meet David’s eyes. Instead her gaze focused on his hand. Long, tanned fingers, the nails short and square-cut so they wouldn’t get in his way as he worked with tiny gems and minuscule bits of metal. There was a small scar on one knuckle; it looked as if long ago a tool had slipped and gouged him. His hand curved around the glass, holding it gently, but she could see the strength in his fingers. The stemmed crystal glass he held wasn’t particularly delicate, but she knew he could smash it in his fist as easily as he’d crush a grape.

Beside her, a woman’s sultry soprano said, “My goodness, if it isn’t little Eve. And who is this, my dear? A new face, surely.”

Eve recognized the voice. Of all the people they could have run into in the Captain’s Table, it would have to be Estella Morgan. She forced a smile as she turned to face a hard-faced woman in her late fifties, who stood beside the table with one hand raised as if to hold her mink stole in place—as well as to display the inch-wide band of diamonds that surrounded her wrist. “Mrs. Morgan, I’d like to present David Elliot, who’s joining Birmingham on State.”

Mrs. Morgan’s interest had obviously faded. “In sales, I suppose?” she said dismissively.

Irritation stabbed through Eve. “Without our sales staff,” she said crisply, “we’d find it hard to keep our doors open. But as a matter of fact, David is the most gifted young jewelry designer in the nation. He’ll be working directly with Henry and eventually taking over.”

Mrs. Morgan’s expression warmed. “A designer?” she purred. “Working with Henry? I wonder if he’ll turn over my new project to you.”

“Perhaps,” David agreed. “I hope that wouldn’t disturb you. Henry would of course still be in charge.”

“Well, as long as Henry’s supervising…” The woman’s gaze slid across Eve’s bare left hand and raised limpidly to meet David’s. “It might actually be better to have you do the project. It’s to be a family heirloom for my daughter, you understand. Not that there’s anything wrong with Henry’s style, but a younger man might be more in touch with what a girl in her twenties likes.”

Honestly, Eve fumed. She couldn’t be any more obvious if she hit him with a brick.

“My first task, however,” David said pleasantly, “will be a wedding ring.” He reached for Eve’s hand and raised it to his lips, kissing her ring finger.

Mrs. Morgan’s lip curled. “What a good catch for you, Eve. Just how did the two of you happen to meet?”

Eve could feel a cavern opening under her toes. She wasn’t ready for that kind of question—at least not when asked in that particularly insinuating tone—and her brain felt absolutely vacant.

“Through Henry, of course,” David said. “How else?”

“How else indeed,” Mrs. Morgan sniffed. “How very convenient for you both.” She pulled her stole higher around her throat and turned toward the door.

Eve let herself sag in her chair.

David sat down again, smiling. “Most gifted? Eve, honey, even Henry said I was only one of the top three.”

Eve ignored him. “How odd that Mrs. Morgan never said anything about wanting an heirloom for her daughter when she talked to Henry about that project.”

“What kind of project is it?”

Eve rolled her eyes. “She’s got all these worn-out old rings—”

“Oh, yes. Henry told me about that one.”

“Well, she only gathered them up in the first place so she’d have an excuse to call him twice a week for the last two months.”

He looked startled. “You mean she’s chasing after Henry?”

“Ludicrous, isn’t it? She must have gotten the message that he’s not interested, so she shifted her attention.”

“Lucky me,” David murmured. “But the old darling did us one good turn.”

Eve’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“She made it clear that we’d better start playing Twenty Questions, and fast. Do you want to start, or shall I?”

CHAPTER THREE

THE doorman had been right. The steak was good, though David might have enjoyed it even more if he hadn’t been trying to commit to memory nearly every word Eve said. Attempting to absorb in a single evening what an ordinary couple would casually share over the course of months was a herculean task. But as the intrusive Mrs. Morgan had made plain, there were going to be lots of questions—and they’d better make a stab at having the right answers.

“How many people are coming to this wedding, anyway?” David asked as the busboy removed their plates.

Eve looked a little disconcerted, as if the question hadn’t occurred to her. “It sounds silly, I suppose, but I really don’t know. Henry assured me he’d keep it small, but I figured since the whole thing was his idea in the first place—or at least I thought it was—he could take care of the invitations. Why?”

“Just that Mrs. Morgan struck me as the sort who would know all the gossip. It surprised me that she apparently hadn’t heard the news. But if Henry was keeping a lid on things, that explains it. Would you like dessert?”

Eve shook her head.

David noticed faint shadows under her eyes. “You’re worn out.”

“I’ve just got a bit of a headache.”

“You, too?” he said lightly. “I suppose it’s no wonder, with everything we’ve tried to stuff in our brains tonight.”

Eve smiled a little. “It makes me think of cramming for final exams in college, that’s sure. No, don’t remind me. You went to the University of—”

“Enough for one night,” he said, and signaled the waiter. “We’ll start with a quiz tomorrow.” The waiter slid a leather folder under David’s hand. He opened it and glanced at the total.

Eve sat up straighter. “Give that to me, David. I invited you.”

He took his wallet out of his breast pocket. “No, you didn’t. You said it was Henry’s idea.”

“And it was, but…” She smiled suddenly.

Watching her eyes fill with mischief gave him a jolt, and a mild case of foreboding.

“Let’s sign Henry’s name to the ticket,” she said. “It would serve him right to find this on his bill.”

“No doubt it would. But I owe Henry enough as it is.” He handed the folder back to the waiter and stood to hold Eve’s chair. “I’ll see you home.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s only a few blocks, and the doorman will get me a cab. I do it all the time, David.”

Not when I’m available. But he didn’t argue the point, just strolled beside her across the lobby to the main entrance.

As the doorman whistled for a taxi, Eve turned to face him. “Thank you for dinner, and everything.” She sounded a little uncertain.

He helped her into the cab and slid in beside her.

Her eyes had gone big and dark. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but—”

“What I think I’m doing isn’t the point,” David murmured. “It’s what the doorman thinks I’m doing that’s important. He’s the one who reports everything he sees to the general manager, remember?”

“So what?” Eve scoffed.

“And sometimes, I suspect, he tells her what he doesn’t see. So you can either kiss me right here while he pretends not to watch, or you can let me take you home so he can allow his imagination to roam on the subject of lovers’ farewells. What you can’t do is shake my hand politely and say goodnight. Not here.”

“Oh,” Eve said blankly. “I suppose you’re right.”

“You suppose?”

“Okay, okay.” She gave the cabbie her address. “But I draw the line at being mauled in the back seat of a cab to convince the driver.”

“Funny. Nobody was talking about mauling at the airport this afternoon.” Which, he thought, was one of the questions they had passed by tonight. Who was the too handsome dude at the airport, and why had Eve been so desperate to convince him that she was head over heels about David?

It really was only a few blocks from the hotel to where Eve lived, and at this hour of the night the drive was a fast one. David told the cabbie to wait for him and walked her to the main door.

While she dug out her key, he looked up at the building—a solid brick structure a dozen stories high and neither new nor particularly stylish.

“You’re surprised I live here,” she said. “And don’t bother to deny it, because I can see it in the tilt of your eyebrows. Why are you shocked? Because it isn’t sleek and glamorous?”

“I’m not shocked, exactly,” he said. “But you said something about sharing a house.”

She frowned as if she was trying to remember. “Well, I suppose we’ll want one someday. And I thought you’d like a say in where we live.”

“Considerate of you,” David said wryly. “See you tomorrow at the store.”

He was silent on the ride back to the hotel, thinking of all the things they’d talked about…and all the things they hadn’t. Remembering the way she had snapped at him, and the way she had smiled.

This adjustment was clearly going to take some time, because the month he’d spent back in Atlanta hadn’t been nearly the shock absorber he’d expected it would be. Even while he’d been resigning his job, cleaning out his apartment, selling his car, closing down his bank accounts, and tying up the loose ends of his life, the arrangement waiting for him in Chicago hadn’t seemed quite real.

Only today, when he walked down the concourse at O’Hare and saw Eve, had the reality finally hit. And then, barely an instant later, he’d been socked with a second blow when she’d thrown herself at him with that fiercely whispered, “Kiss me!”—and things had really started to get interesting.

Forget it, he ordered himself. That’s the last thing you need to be thinking about right now.

Tomorrow—his first day at Birmingham on State—would be a much better subject for contemplation than the little episode at O’Hare….

He hadn’t even realized that his hands had slipped so easily and confidently from Eve’s shoulders to her waist, and then on down—not until the old cat walking by had made a nasty remark, and he’d abruptly come to his senses and discovered he was standing in the middle of O’Hare Airport with his palms firmly cupping Eve’s derriere. No wonder one of the guys in the concourse had muttered something about a nice welcome—he’d probably been picturing himself in David’s shoes.

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