Marriage Terms

Daniel picked up his martini glass to salute her.

Amanda lifted her own glass. “Let’s say I believe you.”

“I’d applaud your intelligence.”

“But I still think you’re up to something.”

He shrugged. “What you see is what you get.”

“Yeah, right. The Elliotts are known far and wide for their transparency.”

He slowly focused his attention, his intense gaze thickening the air between them. “I’m being as transparent as I know how.”

She waited.

“Think about it, Amanda. Candy, flowers, dinner…”

She blinked. “We’re on a date?”

His smile held a hint of pride. “We’re on a date.”

She waved her silver butter knife. “No, we’re not. You’re apologizing. We’re getting our relationship back on an even keel, for the sake of our children and our grandchildren.”

Daniel shrugged in a way that emphasized his broad shoulders. “Whatever you say.

I’m not going to argue with you, Amanda.”

She stared at him in mutinous silence.

The waiter appeared at Daniel’s elbow. “Are you ready to order?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Daniel glanced at Amanda. “The lobster?”

The fact that he remembered her favorite meal gave her a little thrill. But she squelched it. This wasn’t a date. He wasn’t her boyfriend. Those stupid intimate details were just old habits.

“The scallops,” she said, to be contrary, handing the waiter the menu. “And a garden salad.”

Daniel’s eyebrows quirked. “You’re sure?”

She nodded.

“I’ll have the scallops, as well,” he said.

“But—”

He shot her a silent question.

“Nothing.” She’d expected him to order a rib eye, but she wasn’t about to admit that.

As a harpist began playing in the far corner, Amanda smoothed the napkin over her lap and regrouped. Tonight was about maintaining an even keel.

She searched her mind for a neutral topic. “So, uh, did you get your legal troubles solved?”

Daniel took a sip of his martini. “What legal troubles?”

“The employee manual.”

“Ahhh.” He nodded. “Those legal troubles. Unfortunately, it looks like we’re going to have to fire the man.”

“You’re going to fire someone over the employee manual?”

“Afraid so.”

An instant defensiveness bubbled up inside her. “You’re pretty cavalier with someone’s livelihood.”

“Well, he was pretty cavalier with his job.”

“What did he do?”

“Time theft.”

“What’s time theft?”

“When you’re doing personal business on company time.”

“What? Like making a hair appointment?”

Daniel gave a hard sigh. “You don’t fire someone over a hair appointment.”

“I don’t, but it sounds like you might.”

“He called in sick and then was spotted on Seventh Avenue by one of the managers.”

“Maybe he was picking up a prescription.”

“According to my sources, he looked hale and hearty.”

Her eyebrows went up. “You have sources? Bryan really does get it from you.”

Daniel stroked his fingers along the stem of his martini glass. “Even you have to admit that a company the size of EPH can’t afford to have employees abusing sick leave.”

Amanda didn’t have to admit any such thing. “Did you ask the guy what happened?”

“Not personally.”

“Did anyone ask him what happened?”

“He was offered a chance to bring in a doctor’s note. He didn’t take it.”

Amanda leaned across the table. “Maybe he didn’t see a doctor.”

Daniel took another swig of his martini. “He signed for sick leave. He wasn’t sick. That’s fraud.”

“Did he get a fair and impartial hearing?”

“Why? You want to take on the case?”

She met his level gaze with a challenging smile. “I’d love to take on the case.”

Daniel pushed back his chair. “We should dance.”

“Excuse me?”

He nodded to a staircase. “There’s dancing on the veranda upstairs.”

“But we just ordered.”

He stood and held out his hand. “I’ll get them to hold it. I think we should do something that doesn’t require talking for a while.”

Amanda opened her eyes wide and feigned innocence. “Am I ruining your perfect date?”

“Let’s just say you’re a bigger challenge than most.”

“Maybe you should dump me.”

“I’m a gentleman.”

Amanda stood up without taking his hand. “Really, Daniel. You could cancel our order and take me home.”

She tensed, waiting for his answer.

Getting out of here would be the smart thing to do. The safe thing to do.

Dancing with him would be the stupid and dangerous thing to do.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He captured her hand, and she hated the feeling of relief.

His fingers were warm and strong as they twined with hers, and the resistance evaporated from her body.

“This isn’t a date,” she affirmed as he led her toward the worn, wood staircase.

“Of course it’s a date. I sent you roses.”

“You know, my entire house smells like a florist.”

He gestured for her to go first up the narrow staircase. “This is a bad thing?”

“It’s a weird thing.”

“Your old boyfriends didn’t send you flowers?”

She twisted her head to look at him. “What old boyfriends?”

“Cullen told me about Roberto.”

She tripped on a stair and grabbed for the handrail. Roberto had been intense, too passionate. She didn’t need to save the entire world. She was just going for one small corner.

Daniel’s hands closed on her waist to steady her. “I hear he proposed.”

She regained her balance. “He did.”

“You said no?”

“I did.”

“Why?”

“None of your business.” She pushed open a heavy door at the top of the stairs and the sound of a string quartet wafted over her.

Daniel reached over her head and took the weight of the door. “Fair enough.”

Amanda had expected an argument so his words took her by surprise.

He put a hand on the small of her back and guided her onto the open-air dance floor.

She immediately realized dancing with him was a colossal mistake. But then, it was beginning to look as though this whole evening was a mistake. Amanda should have known better. When an Elliott pulled out all the stops, a woman was pretty much powerless to resist.

He drew her into his arms and she automatically matched his rhythm.

The evening breeze was cool. Even the stars were cooperating—shining brightly in an unusually clear sky. She wondered for a moment if the superrich could control the weather. Maybe there was a secret satellite network out there.

She tipped her head back and stared straight up at the scattering of silver flecks against midnight purple. “Is everything you do always so perfect?”

There was a chuckle deep in his throat. “So perfect?”

“Perfect flowers, perfect dinner, perfect sky.”

He looked up with her. “All it takes is a little forethought and planning.”

She tipped her head back down. “And you are the planner.”

“I am the planner.”

“Ever do anything without a plan?”

“Nope.”

“Nothing?”

He shrugged. “What would be the point?”

The quartet segued into another waltz, and Daniel gathered her even closer. She shouldn’t like this. Didn’t want to like this. It was bad enough fantasizing about him when she was alone in the back of a limo. Fantasizing about him in his arms was downright dangerous.

“It might be fun,” she said, forcing herself to keep the conversation going.

Last thing she wanted was to give her sexy thoughts free rein.

“What’s fun about disorganization?” he asked.

The wind gusted, blowing a strand of hair across her face. “I’m talking spontaneity.”

He tucked the wayward hair behind her ear, his blunt fingertips brushing her cheek. “Spontaneity is just another word for chaos.”

She shook the hair loose again. “Spontaneity is doing what you want when you want.”

“That’s just flighty.”

“Are you calling me flighty?”

He touched his forehead to hers and sighed. “I’m not calling you anything. I’m just saying I don’t change so much in a week that I want completely different things by the end of it.”

“What about in a month, in a year?”

“There are different levels of planning.”

Amanda drew back, her feet coming to a stop. “You actually have something planned for a year down the road?”

“Of course.”

“No way.”

“There’s the annual budget cycle, reservations, conferences. You don’t just hop on a plane to Paris and throw up an EPH display at the European Periodical League.”

“But what if something changes?”

He pulled her back into the dance, stroking his warm palm along her spine and making her shiver. “What would change? I mean fundamentally?”

Despite her effort to keep up a good argument, her voice was growing softer, more sultry than the moist night air. “But don’t you ever just want to live life on the fly?”