"We didn't make it to the bed the first time back then either."
"Eventually we did. But I think I had you on the dinner table first."
"I had you on the dinner table. Then you had me in the tub."
"I believe you're right about that. Then we managed to find the bed, where we proceeded to have each other. We had some dinner and some champagne before the table was so hastily cleared."
"I could eat." She combed her fingers lazily through his hair. "But maybe we can eat right here on the floor so we don't have to move very much. I think my legs are paralyzed."
He chuckled, nuzzled, then lifted his head. "It's been a fine and remarkable year. Come then, I'll help you up."
"Can we get food in here?"
"Absolutely. It's all arranged for." He got to his feet, hauled her to hers. "Give me a minute."
"Roarke? This is a really nice present."
He smiled at her, then went to the wall and keyed in something on a panel. "Night's young yet."
A droid that looked remarkably French wheeled a cart in as the elevator opened. Instinctively Eve tossed an arm over her breasts, the other below her waist. And made Roarke laugh.
"You have the oddest sense of modesty. I'll fetch you a robe."
"I never see droids around here."
"I assumed you'd object to Summerset bringing in the dinner. Here you are."
He handed her a robe. Or she supposed you could call it a robe—if you didn't define one as actually covering anything. This was long and black and completely transparent. His grin flashed when she frowned at it.
"It's my anniversary, too, you know." He shrugged into a robe of his own, one, she noted, that wasn't so skimpy on the layers.
He poured the champagne the droid had opened, then offered her a glass. "To the first year, and all that follow." He touched his glass to hers.
He dismissed the droid, and she saw he hadn't missed a detail with the meal, either. There was the same succulent lobster, the tender medallions of beef in the delicate sauce, the same glossy hills of caviar they'd shared on their wedding night.
Candlelight shimmered and the music of the rain was joined by something that soared with strings and flutes.
"I really didn't forget."
"I know."
"I'm sorry I tried to push it aside. Roarke." She reached over, closed her hand over his. "I want you to know that I wouldn't change anything, not one thing that's happened since the first time I saw you. No matter how often you've pissed me off."
He shook his head. "You are the most fascinating woman I've ever known."
"Get out."
When she laughed, started to pull back, he tightened his grip on her hand. "Brave, brilliant, irritating, funny, exasperating, driven. Full of complications and compassion. Sexy, surprisingly sweet, mean as a snake. Disarmingly lacking in self-awareness, and stubborn as a mule. I adore every part and parcel of you, Eve. Everything you are is a maddening joy to me."
"You're just saying that because you want to get laid again."
"Hope does spring. I have something for you." He reached into the pocket of the robe and drew out two silver boxes.
"Two?" Dumb shock covered her face. "There's supposed to be two gifts for this thing? Damn it, marriage should come with an instruction disc."
"Relax." Yes, a maddening joy. "There are two here because I see a kind of connection between them."