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…
moment while his arms and hers kept their bodies pressed close. There was strength in his face
a face she could trust. But there was so much between them. "We'd better go,"
—
Shelby murmured. "It's nearly dark."
The Ditmeyers' home was lit though there was still color in the western sky. Shelby could just see the riot of phlox in the rock garden as she stepped from the car. Her mother was already there, Shelby discovered when she caught a glimpse of the diplomatic plates on the Lincoln in the drive.
"You know Ambassador Dilleneau?" Shelby offered her hand to Alan as they stepped onto the walk. "Slightly."
"He's in love with my mother." She brushed her bangs out of her eyes as she turned to him. "Men are, typically, but I think she has a soft spot for him."
"That amuses you?" Watching her, Alan pressed the doorbell.
"A little," she admitted. "It's rather sweet. She blushes," Shelby added with a quick laugh. "It's a very odd feeling for a daughter to see her mother blush over a man."
"You wouldn't?" Alan skimmed a thumb over her cheekbone. Shelby forgot her mother altogether. "Wouldn't what?"
"Blush," he said softly, tracing her jawline. "Over a man."
"Once
I was twelve and he was thirty-two." She had to talk
just keep talking to
—
—
remember who she was. "He, uh, came to fix the water heater."
"How'd he make you blush?"
"He grinned at me. He had a chipped tooth I thought was really sexy." On a quick ripple of laughter, Alan kissed her just as Myra opened the door.
"Well, well." She didn't bother to disguise a selfsatisfied smile. "Good evening. I see you two have met."
"What makes you think that?" Shelby countered breezily as she stepped inside. Myra glanced from one to the other. "Do I smell strawberries?" she asked sweetly.
"Your lamp." Shelby gave her a bland look and indicated the box Alan carried. "Where would you like it?"
"Oh, just set it down there, Alan. It's so nice to have just a few friends in," Myra continued as she tucked an arm through each of theirs. "Gossip is so much more intimate that way. Herbert, pour two more of those marvelous aperitifs you must try
—
it," she added to both Shelby and Alan. "I've just discovered this marvelous little blackberry liqueur."
"Herbert." Shelby walked over to the Justice and gave him a smacking kiss. "You've been out sailing again." She grinned at his sunburned nose. "When are we going to the beach to wind-surf?"
"The child almost makes me believe I could do it," he commented as he gave her a squeeze. "Good to see you, Alan." His face folded into comfortable grandfatherly lines that made people forget he was one of the top judiciary figures in the country. "I think you know everyone. I'll just get those drinks."
"Hello, Mama." Shelby bent to kiss her mother's cheek when the emerald clusters on Deborah's ears caught her eye. "I haven't seen these before I'd have borrowed them
—
immediately."
"Anton gave them to me." A delicate color seeped into her cheeks. "In appreciation
—
for that party I hostessed for him."
"I see." Shelby's gaze shifted to the trim Frenchman beside her mother. "You have exquisite taste, Ambassador," she told him as she offered her hand. His eyes twinkled as he brought it to his lips
a trait that made up for the ears as far as
—
Shelby was concerned. "You look lovely as always, Shelby. Senator, a pleasure to see you in such a relaxed atmosphere."
"Senator MacGregor." Deborah smiled up at him. "I didn't realize you and Shelby were acquainted."
"We're working on disrupting an old family tradition." He accepted the glass the Justice offered.
"He means feud," Shelby explained at her mother's blank look. She sipped the liqueur, approved it, then sat on the arm of Myra's chair.
"Oh
Oh ,"
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