"Aren't you going to dance with me?" Margo slid into Josh's arms, fit there, before he had a chance to agree or evade. "Or would you rather just stand there brooding?"
"I wasn't brooding. I was thinking."
"You're worried about Laura." Even as her fingers skimmed flirtatiously up the nape of his neck, Margo shot a concerned glance toward Laura. "She's mad for him. And bound and determined to marry him."
"She's too young to be thinking of marriage."
"She's been thinking of marriage since she was four," Margo muttered. "Now she's found what she thinks is the man of her dreams. No one's going to stop her."
"I could kill him," Josh considered. "Then we could hide the body."
She chuckled, smiled into his eyes. "Kate and I would be happy to help you toss his lifeless corpse off the cliffs. But hell, Josh, maybe he's right for her. He's attentive, intelligent, apparently patient in certain hormonal areas."
"Don't start that." Josh's eyes went dark. "I don't want to think about it."
"Rest assured your little sister will walk down the aisle, when the time comes, in blushing-bride white." She blew out a breath, wondering why any woman would consider marrying a man before she knew if he was her mate in bed. "They have a lot in common, really. And who are two jaded cynics like us to judge?"
"We love her," Josh said simply.
"Yeah, we do. But things change, and before much longer we're all going to be moving in our own directions.
You've already started," she pointed out. "Mister Harvard Law. And Kate's chafing at the bit for college, Laura for marriage."
"What are you chafing for, duchess?"
"Everything, and then some." Her smile turned sultry. She might have pushed the flirtation a bit farther, but Kate swung up and pried them apart.
"Sexual rituals later," she muttered. "Look, they're going off." She scowled in Laura's direction, watching her walk away hand in hand with Peter. "Maybe we should go after them. Do something."
"Such as?" But understanding, Margo draped an arm over Kate's narrow shoulders. "Whatever, it won't make any difference."
"I'm not going to stand around and watch, then." Disgusted, Kate peered up at Josh. "Let's go sit in the south garden for a while. Josh can steal us some champagne."
"You're under age," he said primly.
"Right, like you've never done it before." She smiled winningly. "Just a glass each. To toast Laura. Maybe it'll bring her luck, and what she wants."
"One glass, then."
Margo frowned, noting the way he scanned the crowd. "Looking for cops?"
"No, I thought Michael might show after all."
"Mick?" Kate angled her head. "I thought he was down in Central America or somewhere, playing soldier of fortune."
"He is—was," Josh corrected. "He's back, at least for a while. I was hoping he'd take me up on the invitation." Then he shrugged. "He's not much for this kind of thing. One glass," he repeated, tapping a finger on Kate's nose. "And you didn't get it from me."
"Of course not." After tucking her arm through Margo's, Kate wandered toward the gaily lighted gardens. "We might as well drink to her if we can't stop her."
"We'll drink to her," Margo agreed. "And we'll be there, whatever happens."
"So many stars," Laura breathed in the night as she and Peter walked across the gently sloping lawn. "I can't imagine a more perfect evening."
"Much more perfect now that I have a moment alone with you."
Flushing, she smiled at him. "I'm sorry. I've been so busy, I've hardly had a moment to talk with you." Be alone with you.
"You have duties. I