Doctors in the Wedding. GINA WILKINS

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      She chuckled and sank onto one of the benches, setting her drink on the wide arm. He sat beside her, leaving sufficient room between them that she didn’t feel uncomfortable but close enough to be companionable. She popped a shrimp puff into her mouth and sighed in satisfaction.

      He dabbed at his mouth with a black paper napkin. “Good food. I had a sandwich for lunch—I think. It was so long ago, I hardly remember.”

      She smiled. “Digging up mysterious artifacts keeps you that busy?”

      “You have no idea.”

      She wasn’t in any hurry to discuss work, neither her own nor whatever his job might be. That would only lead to talk about other everyday topics that would bring an end to this diverting charade. Of course she was curious about this man’s real name, what he did, how he knew BiBi and Carl—but she was content to savor the passing moments until they got around to that point.

      “Did you get one of these chocolate-dipped apricots?” he asked.

      She glanced at her plate. “No, I don’t think so.”

      He held an apricot to her lips. “You should taste it. Really good.”

      Her gaze locking with his, she took a bite.

      The noise from the party drifted through the glass doors behind them, seeping into the quiet of the courtyard. A cool breeze toyed with her hair and brushed her cheek like a faint caress. Overhead, a misty gray cloud drifted across the face of the silver moon, adding to the fantasy feel of this beguiling encounter.

      “Good?” he asked, his voice low, deep.

      “Mmm.” She licked a spot of chocolate from her lower lip. “Very good.”

      “You missed a spot.” Still looking into her eyes, he touched his fingertip to the corner of her mouth.

      Feeling that contact all the way to her bone marrow, she lifted her eyebrows and spoke lightly. “I think you are flirting with me, Dr. Jones.”

      His soft laughter was as rich and delicious as the chocolate. “I don’t believe it takes a crystal ball to see that, lovely Esmeralda. And my name is Jason, by the way.”

      So she knew his real name now—at least part of it. And it didn’t affect the magic at all, she realized. “I’m Madison.”

      He grinned as though acknowledging how amusing it was that they’d waited this long to get around to swapping first names. “Delighted to meet you, Madison.”

      Her gold bracelets jingled when she set her almost-empty plate aside and lifted her drink to her lips again, watching him over the rim of her glass. She supposed she should get back to the party—she hadn’t participated at all, actually, and BiBi would surely wonder where she was—but how often did a girl get to sit in the moonlight with a fantasy hero?

      “Speaking of crystal balls—” he set his own plate and glass aside “—you were going to read my palm after we ate?”

      Looking up at him through her lashes, she drew a fingertip slowly down the center of his outstretched hand. “I see danger and adventure in your future, Dr. Jones.”

      His lips twitched as though she’d said something wryly amusing. “Do you, now?”

      “Absolutely.”

      “And do I survive all that danger and adventure?”

      “No question,” she assured him. “I can tell you are a man who is successful at any challenge he takes on.”

      Actually, she thought she might be right about that, though she based the presumption more on intuition than mysticism.

      Looking pleased by her words, he asked in the same light tone, “Do you foresee a dance with a captivating gypsy in my near future?”

      She liked the idea of being held in those strong arms, nestled against that broad chest. “I’d be—”

      But her acceptance was cut short abruptly when the French doors opened and a couple of partiers spilled out into the courtyard, laughing so loudly and freely that there was no doubt their humor was fueled at least in part by alcohol.

      “Ooh, are you telling fortunes out here?” a giggly vampiress in too-little black fabric and too much red lipstick demanded of Madison. “Tell mine!”

      “No, I—”

      “Here, read my palm.”

      The woman stuck out her hand toward Madison, then stumbled a little on her stiletto heels. The chubby caped hero with her caught her before she fell, but not before she knocked Madison’s glass out of her hand. Madison gasped as the cold liquid trickled down her blouse and between her breasts.

      “Oops.” The other woman covered her mouth with one black-nailed hand, trying not to laugh but failing. “Sorry.”

      Madison was already on her feet, as was her now-frowning companion. She was sure he was trying only to help when he reached out with his napkin to dab at her wet chest.

      She caught his wrist, keeping him from swabbing any lower. “I’ll just slip into the ladies’ room and tidy up.”

      “Oh, uh—” As if he’d suddenly realized what he was doing, he grimaced sheepishly and drew back his hand. “Good idea. I’ll clear away our dishes.”

      “Thank you.”

      “I’ll find you later?” he asked as she moved toward the doors.

      She sent him a look over her shoulder. “You can try.”

      He grinned. “I’m always up for a challenge.”

      Oh, wow, that grin was as dangerous as the whip hanging from his belt. She continued reluctantly toward the ballroom, resisting an impulse to fan her cheeks with one hand. Behind her, she heard the unabashed vampiress say loudly, “Come dance with me, Indiana. Old stodgy here doesn’t like to dance.”

      “Hey!”

      Leaving them to sort it out, Madison made her way through the mingling crowd toward the ladies’ room.

      She was just finishing her cleanup when the restroom door opened and BiBi entered. Her genie hat was askew, and she paused in front of the mirror to straighten it.

      “Some dippy woman on the dance floor just about knocked me off my feet,” she complained. “Waving her arms around like she was sending semaphore flag messages and calling that dancing. Didn’t even bother to apologize when she lurched off the dance area and into the group I was trying to talk to.”

      “Let me guess—she’s dressed like a vampire?”

      BiBi laughed wryly and looked at Madison’s drying blouse. “Yep. I don’t know her, she must have come as a guest of one of Carl’s associates. You’ve met her, I take it?”

      “So to speak.”

      “I don’t think it’s blood she’s СКАЧАТЬ