A Daring Proposition by Jennifer Greene

that, Red,” he said patiently. “You had a moderate breakfast and you’re not going to get worn out—I’ll see to that. The fresh air should do you good.”
    “All right.” Her lips tightened. “I’ll go shopping then. But there’s no need for you to go with me. In fact, I can’t think of anything more ridiculous than you in a women’s clothing store, sitting there patiently while I try on dresses.”
    “I can’t either,” he admitted dryly. “I can’t think of anything worse.”
    “Well, then?”
    “You have an eye for color, Red, but not for style,” he said critically. “If a dress doesn’t choke you at the neck with buttons, it’s got an extra yard of material there, or else you just don’t own it.” Robert chortled with suppressed laughter.
    “I buy what I like.”
    “Which is why you’re not buying anything. I am. Now say goodbye to Robert, Leigh. And put the spoon down. There hasn’t been anything in that cereal bowl for at least five minutes.”
    Leigh said goodbye to a beaming Robert, with every intention of exploding over Brian’s patronizing attitude the moment they were alone. But she did not argue with him once they got in the car. The fresh snow made the roads hazardously slippery, and driving obviously required his full concentration. While they rode in silence, she all but forgot the morning’s incident as she covertly studied Brian’s impassive, strong-featured profile next to her.
    If there had been no David Hines in her life, she might have wanted very much to pierce through Brian’s layers of cool to the man she knew was beneath. Sometimes, when he was near her, the fear was blended with other emotions—an excitement within, an awareness of his physical strength and elemental maleness.
    “Brooding, Leigh?” he asked quietly.
    “No,” she said quickly, temporizing, “I was thinking about my father.”
    “Were you close?”
    She smiled. “Dad’s whole world was his business. He loved finding a piece of property somewhere that no one wanted and turning it into a profitable venture. He died when I was ten, but I can still remember him. He wanted a son, I always knew that, and he was busy and didn’t go in much for coddling. But he was there when I needed him.” She hesitated. “When I was little, it seemed both of my parents had so many expectations. There was no possible way to live up to all of them, particularly when they each wanted different things for me. But before I ever got to the point of worrying, Dad would snatch me up, take me off somewhere for a day or even a week, just the two of us, and it was extra nice because I knew that I came first with him, before his business or anything else.”
    “Did you like your stepfather?”
    It was impossible not to stiffen, and Brian was too perceptive not to notice.
    “No,” she answered shortly. They rode the rest of the way into Chicago in silence, Brian thoughtful and Leigh deliberately making her mind a blank.
    When they arrived at the fashionable boutique Brian had chosen, he promptly told the saleswoman who greeted them that his wife was pregnant and required a chair. Then he went off with the woman and returned a while later laden with garments over his arms.
    “Are you out of your mind?” Leigh whispered frantically. “I thought you meant for one or two dinners, and that you wanted to specify what sort of thing was appropriate.”
    “We need an office,” Brian told the saleswoman, ignoring Leigh.
    “We have dressing rooms…”
    The owner of the shop had a pink-and-gilt office, complete with side bathroom and a powder-pink velvet loveseat. Apologizing for the disorder of her desk, she left with a smile. “I was pregnant myself once. Just make yourselves at home.”
    “Brian,” Leigh said when the door was closed and every chair in sight piled high with garments, “you just don’t do this. No one marches into a store and demands—”
    He settled gingerly on the delicate loveseat, drew a folded