Even then she’d had no idea where she would wear such a thing, but she hadn’t been able to resist the gown’s quiet elegance.
She returned that garment to the closet, too. After all, it had that deep neckline and it was too formal. Whatever she chose would have to do for the cooking class she had to teach after dinner, she reminded herself.
Finally, Holly settled for tailored black slacks and a soft mulberry sweater. Not exactly suited to making Belgian fruitcake, she thought, but at least she would look halfway decent when David arrived and she could always push up the sleeves later, when it was time to conduct her class.
Hurriedly, she brushed her hair, applied her makeup and brushed her hair again. She allowed herself one cool misting of the expensive perfume she’d once bought on a dash through the Paris airport.
When the rites of womanhood had all been performed, she stood back from the mirror to look at herself. Her lipstick was crooked, and she wiped it off and reapplied it, this time using a lip liner. “Color inside the lines, now,” she mocked herself.
David arrived promptly at seven o’clock, just as they’d agreed. Not a moment before and not a moment after. Something about this small precision bothered Holly, but she pushed the feeling aside.
There was a fire crackling in the living room fireplace and the table in the rarely used dining room had been set with pretty china and her grandmother’s silver. David looked impossibly handsome in his gray slacks, creamy white sweater, and navy blue jacket. No indeed, this was no time for silly doubts.
“Come in,” she said, stepping back.
David smiled, but the look in his eyes was weary. Perhaps he’d had a hard day at law school. He extended a bottle of wine and then took off his coat. “Where’s Toby?” he asked, and the expression in his indigo-blue eyes was suddenly expectant.
Holly was a bit embarrassed. Now she was going to have to say that Toby was spending the evening at Elaine and Roy’s, and it would look as though she’d been setting the scene for a steamy seduction. Why, oh, why had she lighted the fire and set the table so carefully? “He had a previous engagement,” she said.
“Good,” David replied smoothly.
“Good?” Holly echoed, confused.
David laughed. “A man’s got to have a social life,” he answered, and Holly remained off-balance because shedidn’t know whether he meant that Toby needed a social life or he did.
They ate in the dining room, with the candles lit— Holly had been too shy to light them, so David had done it—with the wine and the good china and the glint of the aged silver flatware. Holly hadn’t entertained a man in this particular way in as long as she could remember, and she was uncomfortable and distracted, not knowing what to do or how to act. The fact that she silently flogged herself for being silly didn’t help; she still felt like a fifteen-year-old about to go to her first prom.
“Do we have time to sit by the fire for a while,” David asked easily, setting his wineglass aside, “or are we off to tackle the mysteries of Belgian rum sauce?”
Holly laughed, even though the thought of sitting in front of a romantic winter fire with a man—with this man—patently made her nervous. “We have a few minutes.”
He stood up, but instead of coming around to pull back Holly’s chair, as Skyler would have done, he started gathering up dirty dishes. Holly was disappointed for a moment, but then she decided that one act was as considerate as the other and began to help.
Holly waited, every nerve screaming, for him to kiss her. He didn’t do it while they were clearing the table, of course, and in the kitchen he kept the dishwasher door between them as they put the china and silverware inside. Was he shy or something?
Holly’s cheeks stung with color. Elaine was right, she castigated herself angrily, you’re hot and bothered!
Once the dishwasher was churning away, David caught
She returned that garment to the closet, too. After all, it had that deep neckline and it was too formal. Whatever she chose would have to do for the cooking class she had to teach after dinner, she reminded herself.
Finally, Holly settled for tailored black slacks and a soft mulberry sweater. Not exactly suited to making Belgian fruitcake, she thought, but at least she would look halfway decent when David arrived and she could always push up the sleeves later, when it was time to conduct her class.
Hurriedly, she brushed her hair, applied her makeup and brushed her hair again. She allowed herself one cool misting of the expensive perfume she’d once bought on a dash through the Paris airport.
When the rites of womanhood had all been performed, she stood back from the mirror to look at herself. Her lipstick was crooked, and she wiped it off and reapplied it, this time using a lip liner. “Color inside the lines, now,” she mocked herself.
David arrived promptly at seven o’clock, just as they’d agreed. Not a moment before and not a moment after. Something about this small precision bothered Holly, but she pushed the feeling aside.
There was a fire crackling in the living room fireplace and the table in the rarely used dining room had been set with pretty china and her grandmother’s silver. David looked impossibly handsome in his gray slacks, creamy white sweater, and navy blue jacket. No indeed, this was no time for silly doubts.
“Come in,” she said, stepping back.
David smiled, but the look in his eyes was weary. Perhaps he’d had a hard day at law school. He extended a bottle of wine and then took off his coat. “Where’s Toby?” he asked, and the expression in his indigo-blue eyes was suddenly expectant.
Holly was a bit embarrassed. Now she was going to have to say that Toby was spending the evening at Elaine and Roy’s, and it would look as though she’d been setting the scene for a steamy seduction. Why, oh, why had she lighted the fire and set the table so carefully? “He had a previous engagement,” she said.
“Good,” David replied smoothly.
“Good?” Holly echoed, confused.
David laughed. “A man’s got to have a social life,” he answered, and Holly remained off-balance because shedidn’t know whether he meant that Toby needed a social life or he did.
They ate in the dining room, with the candles lit— Holly had been too shy to light them, so David had done it—with the wine and the good china and the glint of the aged silver flatware. Holly hadn’t entertained a man in this particular way in as long as she could remember, and she was uncomfortable and distracted, not knowing what to do or how to act. The fact that she silently flogged herself for being silly didn’t help; she still felt like a fifteen-year-old about to go to her first prom.
“Do we have time to sit by the fire for a while,” David asked easily, setting his wineglass aside, “or are we off to tackle the mysteries of Belgian rum sauce?”
Holly laughed, even though the thought of sitting in front of a romantic winter fire with a man—with this man—patently made her nervous. “We have a few minutes.”
He stood up, but instead of coming around to pull back Holly’s chair, as Skyler would have done, he started gathering up dirty dishes. Holly was disappointed for a moment, but then she decided that one act was as considerate as the other and began to help.
Holly waited, every nerve screaming, for him to kiss her. He didn’t do it while they were clearing the table, of course, and in the kitchen he kept the dishwasher door between them as they put the china and silverware inside. Was he shy or something?
Holly’s cheeks stung with color. Elaine was right, she castigated herself angrily, you’re hot and bothered!
Once the dishwasher was churning away, David caught
Similar Books
