Red Lily (In the Garden 3)

“There’s also a reason why fine hotels have room service and Do Not Disturb signs.”

“Room service?”

“Work with me, Harp. You take her out to dinner—fancy dinner. Let’s try the Peabody. They have lovely rooms, lovely service, fine food—in-room dining.”

Chewing thoughtfully, Harper played it out in his head. “I take her out to dinner—in a hotel room? Don’t you think that’s a little . . . brilliant,” he decided after a moment.

“Yes, I do. Wine, candles, music, the works, all in the elegant privacy of a hotel suite. You’ll be bringing her breakfast in bed the next morning.”

Harper licked chutney off his thumb. “I’d need a two-bedroom suite for that. Lily.”

“Your mama, Mitch, and I would be more than happy to entertain the charming Lily for a night. And to show your amazing forethought—or mine—I’ll pack an overnight bag for Hayley. You’ll just have to get the room, take her things in, arrange the service, set the scene. Then sweep her up there and off her feet.

“This is a good idea, David. I should’ve thought of it myself, which just shows how messed up in the head she’s got me. I’ve got to get back, talk Stella into juggling the schedule so I can pull this off. Thanks.”

“I’m always here to serve the course of true love, or at least hot hotel sex.”

SHE WORE HER red dress. It was the nicest she had, and she liked the way it looked on her. But she wished he’d given her time to go out and get something new. All their other dates had been casual.

He’d seen her in this dress. The fact was, he’d seen her in everything she owned.

Still, she had great shoes. Roz’s cast-off Jimmy Choo’s that probably cost three times what the dress did. And worth every penny, Hayley decided as she turned in front of the f

ull-length mirror. Just look what they did for her legs. Sexy instead of skinny, she decided.

Maybe she should wear her hair up. Lips pursed, she scooped it off her neck, angling her head this way and that to check the effect.

“What do you think?” she asked Lily, who was sitting on the floor busily putting a pile of little toys in Hayley’s oldest purse. “Up or down? I think I can pull the up-do off, if I keep it sort of tousled. Then I could wear those cool earrings. Let’s try it.”

When a man said he wanted to take you out to a special dinner, she decided as she pinned and re-pinned, the least you could do was pull out all the stops, appearance-wise.

Right down to the underwear. At least that was new—and purchased recently with the idea that eventually he’d see her in it.

Maybe tonight, if they could extend the evening a little. He could come back here with her. She’d just have to block Amelia out of her mind. Block the idea that Harper’s mama was right in the other wing. That her own daughter was in the next room.

Why the hell did it have to be so complicated?

She wanted him. They were both young, free, unattached, healthy. It should be simple.

Becoming lovers should have weight. She remembered Harper’s words. Well, the situation had weight. It was time she started thinking of that as a plus instead of a minus.

“I’m the one making it weird, Lily. I can’t seem to help it. But I’m going to try.”

She put on the earrings, long, flashy gold dangles, considered a necklace and rejected it. The earrings made the show. “Well.” She stepped back to do a little turn for her daughter. “What do you think? Does Mama look pretty?”

Lily’s response was a mile-wide grin as she dumped everything out of the purse.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Hayley said, then turned back to the mirror for one last check.

The breath left her body so fast her head went light.

She wore a red dress, but not the thin-strapped, short-skirted number she’d had for more than two years.

It was long and elaborate, cut low so that her breasts rose up to be framed by the silk with a cascade of rubies and diamonds spilling down over the exposed flesh.

Her hair was piled high in an elaborate confection of shining gold curls with a few arranged to frame a striking face with lush red lips and smoldering gray eyes.

“I’m not you,” she whispered. “I’m not.”