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Millionaires' Destinies(117)

By:Sherryl Woods


Destiny’s eyes glowed with immediate excitement. “I’d be delighted. You know that I love meeting your friends. I’m free tonight. Will that work?”

He concluded he might as well get it over with. Maybe after seeing him and Beth together, Destiny could help him sort out his feelings. “Tonight’s fine for me. I’ll check with Beth and get back to you in an hour or so.”

“Perfect.”

He studied the glint of anticipation in her eyes warily. “You won’t make too much of it?” he asked. “I rarely bring a woman to dinner, because you always get this gleam in your eyes—the one that’s there right now, by the way—and start imagining wedding bells.”

“I will make Beth feel welcome, and I will not bring out a single bridal magazine,” Destiny promised. “I won’t even leave one conspicuously lying around the living room.”

He knew there were a million other sneaky ways to get the same message across. “And you won’t drag out Richard’s wedding pictures?” he asked, naming one of them.

“Heavens, no,” she said with suitable indignation. “I certainly know better than to force someone to look at family photos. That can be so tedious.” She grinned. “Though there is one of you in the bathtub at two that I think is awfully cute. Few women could resist it. In fact, it might plant a few ideas about how absolutely adorable your babies will be.”

Mack gave her a genuinely horrified look. “I just changed my mind. I’m not bringing Beth anywhere near you.”

Destiny laughed merrily. “I was teasing, darling. I won’t embarrass you.”

“You swear?”

Destiny sketched a cross over her heart. “Not one inappropriate word,” she vowed.

Mack frowned. “Why doesn’t that reassure me?”

“Because you have a cynical nature,” she told him. “Anything in particular you’d like me to cook? One of my Provençal specialties perhaps?”

“Anything,” he said, wondering if he was making a huge mistake in exposing Beth to Destiny’s probing gaze and clever questions. “Just keep in mind that I’m lucky to steal her away from the hospital for an hour. This can’t be one of your long, drawn-out, five-course meals.”

“Fine dining can’t be rushed, darling. You know that.”

“I also know that Beth will refuse to come if she thinks this is going to be some sort of formal occasion. It has to be just the three of us, and it can’t be one of your dressed-to-the-nines nights. She’ll probably have to come straight from the hospital and then go right back there.”

His aunt scowled at that. “If you insist. Would you like hot dogs and baked beans? Those are quick and easy,” Destiny said tartly.

Mack knew she wasn’t entirely kidding. She had her standards when it came to the way someone in their position should entertain. “I think you can do better than that,” he told her. “In fact, I’m counting on it.”

She studied him intently, then finally nodded. “Okay then, but may I ask one thing?”

“Sure.”

“Why does this dinner mean so much, Mack, if Beth’s not becoming important to you?”

“Can’t we just have a nice meal together without turning it into a precursor to an engagement?” he asked plaintively.

“I can do that,” Destiny agreed readily, then gave him a far too knowing look. “Can you?”

Because he didn’t have a ready answer to that, Mack merely frowned and headed for the door. “See you tonight.”

“I’m looking forward to it, darling,” Destiny said cheerfully.

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Mack muttered, already regretting the impulse that had caused him to make the arrangements for this little get-together.

He’d told himself that he wanted Destiny’s insights and impressions of the relationship, but maybe the truth was something else entirely. Maybe he was hoping that exposing sensible, down-to-earth Beth to the realities of life with a Carlton would scare her off and he’d never have to break her heart by doing what he always did…walking away.





Beth’s day had gone from bad to worse. A patient had swatted away a bottle of bright-orange antiseptic, sending most of it cascading over Beth’s blouse. Though there had been a faint hint of amusement lurking in his eyes, Peyton had soundly scolded her for missing the morning meeting. And Tony had regarded her with a hurt expression for not being there for his transfusion.

“You know it hurts less when you’re the one who has to stick me with a needle,” Tony said accusingly. “I was counting on you.”