Jason took a deep breath. So now here he was, standing at Kathryn's door, as nervous as a kid on his first date.
Would she be happy to see him, or wouldn't she?
He glanced at the paper sack he was holding. Two large coffees, black. Two whole-wheat donuts. Two buttered bagels, and a handful of Sweet and Low packets. He began to smile.
It might not be sensible, but it was breakfast.
Even Kathryn would have to agree to that.
* * *
The shrill sound of the doorbell pierced the tattoo of the shower like the wail of a wounded animal. Kathryn spun away from the mirror and stared out the bathroom door. The hallway seemed to stretch into a shadowed infinity.
But the bell bleated again and the hallway was exactly what it had always been, a short, narrow corridor in desperate need of new carpeting.
Kathryn blew out her breath, snatched her robe from the door, and thrust her arms into the sleeves.
"May all the calories in the fried dumplings go straight to my hips if I ever eat Chinese food after nine o'clock again," she muttered as she flew down the hall.
"You're early," she said through the door in a no-nonsense tone, before the cabbie could lean on the bell again. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait downstairs. I told the dispatcher to send a cab at eight-thirty, and—"
"Would you really send a poor man back out into the cold, lady, when he's here to deliver breakfast for two?"
Kathryn blinked in surprise.
"Jason?"
"Yup—unless that cab company offers room service."
She smiled as she undid the locks and bolts that were the price of living in a big city.
"Jason, what on earth are you doing here?" she said as she flung the door open.
"I decided nobody should have to depend on an airline for breakfast." He held out the Mister Donut bag as he stepped into the entry hall. "So I stopped at one of New York's most elegant patisseries, picked up some croissants and cafe for two, grabbed a taxi, and—"
Kathryn snatched the bag out of his hands, tossed it on a table, and threw her arms around him.
"Oh," she said happily, "what a nice surprise!"
Jason stood there for a moment, his expression a combination of delight and astonishment, and then his arms closed around her.
Oh yes, he thought, it certainly was a nice surprise. In his heart, he'd half expected she might open the door, see him standing there with a silly grin and the even sillier Mister Donut bag, and blurt out that agreeing to marry him last night had all been a huge mistake.
Now, with her warm and soft in his arms, he felt his doubts fall away.
Kathryn was really happy to see him this morning. And she was different somehow, not just in looks, although that was part of it. She was wearing a flannel robe, her bare toes were peeping out from under the hem, and her hair was hanging loose and shiny down her back. It was all a far cry from her usual, businesslike self.
But for all her sexy, sweet dishevelment, it was her vulnerability that was making his head spin. She needed him, he thought in amazement. Kathryn needed him. She was clinging to him, and that was something she had never done before.
It was something he'd dreamed of, but the reality of it was a little frightening.
"Hey." He drew back a step and looked into her eyes. "Are you okay?"
Kathryn thought of the dream, of its intensity, of how even the hallway had looked so frightening just as the doorbell rang. She laughed, shut her eyes and leaned her forehead against Jason's chin.
"I'm fine. But I've decided I'm never going to eat Chinese food again."
He laughed, too. "I knew it," he said lightly. "Now the woman's going to claim she was under the influence of foreign agents when she agreed to marry me."