Jack paused. "My wife."
"No way."
"It was a whirlwind courtship."
Zenia clucked her tongue. "Like grandfather, like-"
"No! Like I said, it's nothing like that."
"Sorry."
"That's all right. Can you help me out? I want to surprise her."
Kristy could buy anything else she wanted later, but Jack couldn't help thinking they'd do better with an expert like Zenia making the choices.
Zenia was silent for a minute. "You know she's only got two weeks."
"The jet is warming up on the tarmac."
Zenia took a breath. "Okay. Tell the pilot to file a flight plan to Paris then Milan. I'll send one of my assistants along to purchase what she'll need."
"You're a goddess," said Jack.
"Yes, I am. And I want to meet this woman when I'm at the show in London."
"Actually, I can suggest something even better … ."
Waking up alone in Jack's bedroom was a mixed blessing. It saved her the embarrassment of facing him after last night. But now she had to spend the day dreading the moment she'd have to face him.
Did he think she was selfish? A tease? Did he think it was his turn next? Did he have expectations for tonight?
She paced the length of the workshop, giving her head a quick shake, forcing Jack from her thoughts.
She stopped herself at the drafting table, plunked down on the stool, opened the sketch pad and stared down at Irene's notes. The Sierra Sanchez team had liked the necklines. They'd liked some of the fabrics, too.
The team's biggest complaint had been the lack of sparkle and imagination. Kristy thought she understood. Unfortunately, now she wasn't so sure.
She closed her eyes, trying to think about sparkle, imagination, maybe passion.
Oops. There was Jack again.
She could see him in the hot air balloon this time, skimming over the desert against the bright-blue sky.
The balloon was round, billowing out with primary colors, bright yellow, red and blue. The lines were soft, sand rippling off in the distance, rocks polished by the foaming water, curves on the river sweeping through the valley.
In the distance, the cliffs were jagged, painted with muted stripes of brown and rust and gold. A waterfall crashed over them, hurling spray high into the air, white water bubbled at the bottom of the falls.
She heard Jack's rumbling voice, his laughter, his teasing suggestion they skinny-dip. She was hit with a new sense of desire, even while the foaming water turned into billowing crinoline and the stripes from the surrounding cliffs took the shape of a bodice.
Her eyes flew open. "Wow."
She grabbed her sketchbook and began bold pencil strokes across a blank page.
A wild and exotic dress grew before her eyes-a tight, sleeveless bodice, with stripes arching into a reverse, rounded neckline. She'd use some kind of metallic in the fabric, jazzing up the earth tones. She nipped in the waist, then filled out the skirt, widening the stripes as the fabric fell to midthigh. Then she penciled in the billowing crinoline, at least six inches showing below the skirt.
Dark stockings and spike heels would give the sensuality she was looking for. It was sassy and sexy and completely different from anything she'd conceived before.
She had a sudden vision of herself wearing it, curled up on the blanket in front of the waterfall, Jack's hot gaze traveling the length of her body.
She drew a deep, shuddering breath.
Then she came back to earth, blinking at the surprising creation. It didn't look like the kind of thing Irene would like. The woman's tastes had tended toward sleek and sophisticated.
But this dress was definitely passionate. And, for better or worse, Kristy was feeling passionate.
Maybe it was frustration. Or maybe it was repressed desire. Or maybe it was simply the opulence and excess of the Osland mansion. But Kristy definitely wanted to let herself go, to find her sensual side and bring it out in jazzy, extravagant clothing.
Of course, she couldn't.
She had a sponsor. And she had a job to do.
Enough fooling around. She flipped to Irene's notes on her original sketches. She'd start with her classic cocktail dress and take it from there.
When Kristy entered the mansion many hours later, tired, hungry and pretty frustrated with her efforts, she heard voices coming from the great room. She realized the rest of Jack's family had arrived, and she was in no shape to meet any of them yet.
She darted up the stairs, grabbed a shower, blow-dried her hair and got herself into a simple white-and-silver tunic dress that shimmered as she moved. High heels gave her confidence, and she matched a pair of dangling black earrings to a dramatic necklace that highlighted the V neckline.
She heard the bedroom door open and turned to see Jack approach the en-suite.
"Ready?" he asked through the doorway.
The second she heard his voice, the night before came flooding back in all its reckless, sensual glory.
She instantly realized she wasn't ready to face Jack or anybody else.
"Kristy?"
She swallowed. Should she acknowledge it? Pretend she'd forgotten? Hope he'd forgotten that she selfishly went to heaven and back in his arms?
"Kristy?" he repeated, taking a couple of steps into the room. Then he stopped behind her, gazing for a long second at her reflection in the vanity mirror.
"Please don't be embarrassed," he finally said.
What else could she possibly be?
"You were beautiful," he said softly, bringing his hands down to rest on her shoulders.
"I'm sorry," she muttered, covering her face with one hand.
A smile came into his voice. "Well, I'm sure not."
She dared to meet his eyes.
"Never," he assured her. "Not even for a second."
There was something comforting about his tone and his touch. She found herself relaxing.
"Besides," he said, giving her a squeeze, "I don't know if you noticed, but we've got bigger problems downstairs."
So much for relaxing. "I noticed," she said on a sigh.
"Then buck up," he advised. "Because your in-laws are waiting."
She nodded, finishing her lip gloss and chasing down a surge of butterflies that collected in her stomach.
She reminded herself they weren't really her in-laws. She didn't have to win them over for life. All she had to do was smile, nod and try not to spill anything.
Jack gestured for her to go first. "My mother's name is Liza. My sister is Elaine. Then there's my aunt Gwen and my cousin Melanie, Hunter's sister."
Kristy repeated the names to herself as they made their way along the hall and down the main staircase.
Garlands of fresh cedar adorned the railing and banisters. The charming scent filled the air.
A small group of people stood chatting in the great room. Hunter asked Jack a question as they walked through the door. Kristy could see Cleveland in a conversation in the middle of the room, a crystal tumbler in one hand, and Dee Dee parked by his feet. He was sporting a Santa hat, perched jauntily atop his head. Leaving Jack behind, she moved closer to Cleveland, then she crouched down slightly.
"Dee Dee," she sang softly to get her dog's attention.
Dee Dee raised her head, but didn't come to her feet.
"He's spoiled her," came a female voice next to Kristy.
Kristy straightened and smiled at the young woman. "I may have to leave her here when I go."
She was a brunette, twentysomething, and she arched a finely sculpted eyebrow. "You're going somewhere?"
"London," said Kristy easily. Then she held out her hand. "I'm Kristy Mahoney."
The woman gave a gentle handshake. "Not Osland?"
Kristy shook her head.
"Well, I'm Elaine Osland. We appear to be sisters-in-law."
"It's good to meet you."
"You, too." Elaine took a sip of her martini, watching Kristy closely. "I hear it was a small wedding?"
"About as small as you can get."
"In Vegas?"
"Uh-huh."
"Out of the blue I take it?"
"It was a whirlwind courtship."
"That's not like Jack."
"It's not like me, either."