Bed of Roses (Bride Quartet #2)(88)

"Then we're on."

"I have to be back early, but-"

"So do I." This time he kissed her, catching her face with his hands, drawing it out. "That should hold you. Seven," he said, and rose.

Pleased with his idea and her reaction, he drew his phone out as he walked to his truck, and got his assistant busy making reservations.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

"I TOLD HIM I COULD PACK IN TEN SECONDS. I'M SUCH A LIAR." With the workday scrubbed off and every inch of her creamed and scented, Emma folded a shirt into her overnight case. "Obviously the coming home clothes aren't a real issue, but . . ."

She turned, held up a silky white gown for Parker's opinion. "What do you think?"

"It's gorgeous." Stepping forward, Parker brushed a finger over the delicate lace that framed the bodice. "When did you get this?"

"Last winter. I couldn't resist it, and I told myself I'd wear it just for me, whenever. Of course, I didn't. Haven't. It has this little matching robe. I love lush hotel robes, but this is romantic. I feel like I want to have something romantic to put on after dinner."

"Then it's perfect."

"I don't even know where we're going, where we're staying. I love that. Love the feeling of being whisked away." She did a quick spin then laid the peignoir in her bag. "I want champagne and candlelight, and some ridiculously indulgent dessert. And I want him to look at me in the candlelight and tell me he loves me. I can't help it."

"Why should you?"

"Because it should be enough to be whisked away, to be with a man who'd plan a night like this. He makes me happy. That should be enough."

As Emma continued to pack, Parker stepped forward to rub her shoulders. "It's not as if you're setting limits for yourself, Emma. If you feel you have to."

"I'm not doing that. I don't think I'm doing that. I know I've had some ups and downs about this, so I'm trying to adjust my expectations. And do what I said I'd do when we started." Reaching back, she laid her hand on Parker's, squeezed. "Just enjoy and take things as they come. I've been in love with him for so long, but that's my deal. In reality we've only been together a couple of months. There's no rush."



       
         
       
        

"Emma, as long as I've known you-which is forever-you've never been afraid to say how you feel. Why are you afraid to tell Jack?"

Emma closed her case. "If he's not ready, and telling him made him feel obliged to step back, to just be friends again? I don't think I could stand it, Parker." She turned, faced her friend. "I guess I'm not ready to risk what we have. Not yet. So I'm going to enjoy our night away, and not put any added weight on it.

"God, I've got to get dressed. Okay, I'll be back by eight, eight thirty at the latest. But if for some reason we get stuck in traffic-"

"I'll call Tink, force her to get out of bed. I know how. She'll take the morning delivery and start processing."

"Good." Confident in Parker's abilities, Emma wiggled into the dress. "But I'll be back." She turned so Parker could do up the zipper.

"I love this color. Citrine. It's annoying to know it would make me sallow. It just makes you glow." She met Emma's eyes in the mirror, then wrapped her arm around her friend's waist and hugged. "Have a great time."

"Can't miss."

Twenty minutes later when she opened the door, Jack took one look and grinned. "This is an excellent idea. I should've had this idea long before. You look absolutely stunning."

"Snobby waiter and overpriced-food worthy?"

"More than." He took her hand, kissed her wrist where the bracelet he'd given her sparkled.

Even the drive into New York struck her as perfect, whether they whizzed along or crept through a snarl of traffic. The light softening toward balmy evening, she thought, and the whole night ahead.

"I always think I'm going to get into the city more often," she told him. "To play or to shop, to check out the florists and markets. But I don't nearly as much as I'd like. So every trip in is exciting."

"You haven't even asked where we're going."

"It doesn't matter. I love the surprise, the spontaneity. So much of what I do-you, too, actually-has to run on a schedule. So this? This is like a magic minivacation. If you promise to buy me champagne, I'll have it all."

"All you want."

When he pulled up in front of the Waldorf, she lifted her eyebrows. "And the excellent ideas keep coming."

"I thought you'd like the traditional."