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Chapter Fifteen

She chuckled. "I guess you're better off being a lawyer."

He swore he was going to strangle his stepsister. He checked himself, and then he said, "I've been thinking of changing careers."

"Really?" She faced him. "What are you considering?"

He hadn't told anyone, not even Jon.

"Tell me," she said, putting her hand over his.

"I'm thinking of going into sports representation." He glanced at her. "Is that crazy?"

"Not at all, if you feel called to it."

He nodded. "I like making deals."

"Then do it," she said, as if changing your whole life were that simple.

Maybe it was. He said nothing more, thinking as he maneuvered through the crowded midday streets. After parking the car, he got out and waited for Rosalind to lead him to the store.

She took his hand and began to walk.

He tried not to read too much into it-tried being the operative word. Her hand felt soft and cool and capable. He'd felt that hand on his bare chest, and he wanted to feel it again, despite himself.

But as he reigned in his desire, she led him up to a shop door and pressed the buzzer.

A disembodied voice spoke through the intercom. "Yes?"

"I have an appointment. Rosalind Aberville." She winked at him. "And my fiancé Nick."

Fiancé.

It startled him, but he looked at her and it felt startlingly right. He smiled as she slipped her hand in his and led him through the buzzing door.

There were white dresses all over, with a rug in the middle of the room and a large couch with some magazines on a table. He followed Rosalind inside, feeling silly and out of place in the midst of all the frippery.

It must have been written on his face, because Rosalind squeezed his hand as a middle-aged woman come out of the back to greet them. "Miss Aberville, it's a pleasure. I'm Virginia. Can I bring you some tea or champagne as you fill out the forms?"

"Champagne would be lovely," Rosalind said, taking the clipboard from the woman and settling on the couch.

Nick sat next to her, putting his arm around the back. He waited until Virginia was gone to say, "Are we signing away our first born in order to buy a dress?"

She gave him an amused glance. "They're getting the pertinent information, like the day and type of wedding we're having."

"I didn't realize we'd agreed on one yet"-he took her hand and lifted it to his mouth-"but I'm willing to do it as soon as possible to get on to the wedding night."

Flushing, she lowered her voice and said, "Stop distracting me. I'm here on business."

"What sort?"

"I want to see what styles are popular right now. It's one thing to see the dresses in the magazines, but it's another to see what appeals to real women."

He looked around at all the white dresses. "We're going to look at all these?"

She chuckled. "Don't worry. We won't be long."

The saleswoman came back with a silver tray that held two tall flutes of champagne. She set them on the table and smiled at Rosalind as she held out the clipboard. "I'm not certain what style I'd like," Rosalind said in a clipped upper crust voice he wasn't used to hearing from her. "What's popular right now?"