Vision in White (Bride Quartet #1)(90)

She turned after hanging up the load and turned to find him behind her with another. "Thanks. She also neglected to leave me the keys to hers, so I couldn't have used it if I'd wanted to. By yesterday morning I was ready to do murder, but then I had a pep talk from Laurel-who takes no crap from anyone. I so admire that in her. After that, I had my mother's car towed to this garage, this mechanic's place."

"That was brilliant. Appropriate consequences for inappropriate behavior."

"That sounds so Dr. Maguire. Appropriate maybe, but it's mean, too, especially since the guy knows Del and agreed to charge Linda for the towing and the storage."

"I take it, since your car's out front, she finally brought it back. She'd have been furious about hers being towed."

"And then some. It was ugly. Very ugly, during which I learned even when you stand your ground, do what's right, it hurts. A fist in the face, you could say," she added with a small smile for him. "And skipping over the details, I ended by calling her a cab and locking her out of the house."

"Good. She'll think twice before pulling something like that again."

"There's that optimism. It's so shiny. She never thinks twice, Carter. It's going to take a lot more of the same before we're done. It's on me to do it. To keep doing it, and to keep taking that fist in the face without giving ground."

"But you will." 

"I have to. Anyway, I decided to work off the upset by cleaning up my mess. I made a bigger one first, but with the goal of decluttering and restructuring. Which became symbolic for tossing out old habits and mind-sets. So . . ."

She broke off as she turned with another armload and caught sight of herself in the mirror. "Oh Jesus, Jesus, I look like I escaped from the institution for the terminally sloppy and unkempt. Couldn't you have told me my hair looked like a couple of cats fought in it?"

"I like your hair."

She raked her fingers through it. "You know, this is just one more world of irritating. I looked really good the night I came by your place. Those MAC girls know their stuff. Plus I sprang for La Perla, and I was wearing it. My credit card had a minor stroke, but now that we landed the Seaman job, it'll recover nicely. Still, I-"

"You got the job?" He picked her off her feet, gave her a quick spin. "That's-damn it."

"Almost the reaction I might've expected."

"I bought a bottle of champagne to celebrate with you when you got the job. I didn't bring it with me."

"You bought champagne to celebrate with me." She could all but feel her pupils take the shape of hearts as she stared at him. "You're the sweetest man."

"We'll celebrate tomorrow."

"Event tomorrow night."

"First chance then. Congratulations. This is major."

"Majorly major, to be redundant about it. Event of the year, and it's going to test all our skills, push us to develop new ones."

"You must . . . What's La Perla?"

Her smile spread slowly. "Ah, so two sisters and a mother haven't taught you everything about the female. You still have a few things to learn, Professor. Go downstairs."

"I don't want to go downstairs." He lowered his head to nibble at her lips. "I've missed you. Missed your face. Missed touching you. Look how we cleaned a spot off the bed. It looks just big enough."

"Downstairs." She pressed a finger at his chest, pushed him back. "I'll tell you when to come back up. You'll thank me."

"Why don't I just thank you now and-"

"Out."

She gave him a shove.

He paced the studio, studied her photographs, poked at bridal magazines. He wondered what the term was for what was running around inside him, this intense joy and ragged impatience. Mackensie was upstairs, and that was wonderful. Mackensie was upstairs, and he wasn't. That was making him crazy.

He wandered to the door to make sure it was locked, wondering if he should take up the wine. He didn't want any, but she-

"Why don't you come on up?"

Thank God, he thought, and left the wine where it was.

He saw from the shadows and flickering light that she'd lit candles. The faintest scent drifted through the air, alluringly. He should have brought the wine, he realized.

Then, when he stepped into the bedroom, his heart stopped.

In the shifting shadows, the golden light, in the drifting scent she lay on the bed, turned toward him, her head propped on her elbow. She'd done something to her hair, something sleek, and darkened her lips and eyes to exotic. And on her long, lovely body were wisps and whirls of tiny black lace.

"This," she said, sweeping her free hand along her side, "is La Perla."