time.
Susannah shivered with a combination of instinctive feminine fear and delicious anticipation and turned away from the look in his eyes. "Do we have time for a glass of champagne before we go?" she asked, already reaching out for one of the delicate fluted glasses on the marble counter. She turned her head, glancing over her shoulder when he didn't answer immediately. "Matt?"
Matt answered with a strangled syllable that sounded suspiciously like a curse.
Heather giggled.
Susannah raised a delicate eyebrow.
"Good God, woman," Matt demanded, "do you want to start a riot?"
Susannah's eyebrow rose higher. "Excuse me?" she said, although she knew exactly what he meant.
The back of her dress dipped considerably lower than the front, coming to a V just above her waistline. Three strands of pink crystal beads draped across her spine, filling in the opening and holding the dress in place.
Matt made another inarticulate noise and gestured at the back of her dress.
Susannah shrugged, making the beaded strands shimmy over her skin, and turned back to the counter. She nonchalantly reached for the champagne, secretly pleased to be getting some of her own back. He'd disconcerted her with a smile and a heated look. She'd evened the score with a little discreetly bared flesh. "Do you think it's too much?" she asked innocently, and winked at Heather.
"I think it's—" the sexiest thing I've ever seen "—too damned little," he groused. "You're going to catch pneumonia if you go outside in that thing."
"My evening wrap is very warm." She turned back to face him. "Champagne?" she said, and held his glass toward him with a bright smile of feminine challenge.
Matt looked at her for a long second, consideringly, fighting the twin urges to wring her neck and kiss her senseless at the same time. He decided that neither one was a viable option at the moment. He reached out and took the glass from her, draining half of it with one gulp. "We'd better get going if we don't want to be late," he said, handing the glass back to her.
Susannah took it and set it on the counter. She looked at the teenager who stood silently, watching them. "Heather? Don't you have something you want to say to Matt before we leave?"
Heather twisted her hands in the hem of her sweater, pulling it all out of shape, and shrugged noncommittally.
Susannah gave her a sharp look, tilted her head toward Matt, and then turned to get her wrap, leaving the two of them to talk privately.
"Suse thinks I should, like—" she looked at the floor, her mouth screwed up in a rueful grimace "—apologize, you know?"
"And what do you think?"
She shrugged again.
Matt waited.
Heather sighed and dug into the pocket of her shorts. "Here." She handed him a wad of bills. "What I owe you." The next words she uttered could have been I'm sorry but they were mumbled so low Matt couldn't be sure.
He smoothed the bills out, wondering if he should make her say it again, and then decided to let her off the hook. This time. "Thanks." He folded the bank notes neatly in half and slipped them into his pocket.
"Everything okay here?" Susannah asked as she came back with her wrap over her arm.
Heather looked at Matt.
He nodded.
"Did she ask your advice about her legal problem?"
"Suse!"
"What legal problem?" Matt asked warily. There was no end of legal trouble a teenager could get into these days, especially one with a go-to-hell attitude and no discernible parental influence.
"I've got it covered," Heather said, shooting a fulminating look at Susannah. "Legal Aid assigned me a lawyer yesterday afternoon. I forgot to tell you, is all."
"A lawyer?" Susannah huffed delicately. "Some first-year law student, right?"
"Second year," Heather said. "And all he has to do is, like, file some stupid papers is all. It's no big deal."
"What legal problem?" Matt demanded in a quiet tone that nevertheless had both females turning their heads to look at him.
"I'm petitioning the court to be
Susannah shivered with a combination of instinctive feminine fear and delicious anticipation and turned away from the look in his eyes. "Do we have time for a glass of champagne before we go?" she asked, already reaching out for one of the delicate fluted glasses on the marble counter. She turned her head, glancing over her shoulder when he didn't answer immediately. "Matt?"
Matt answered with a strangled syllable that sounded suspiciously like a curse.
Heather giggled.
Susannah raised a delicate eyebrow.
"Good God, woman," Matt demanded, "do you want to start a riot?"
Susannah's eyebrow rose higher. "Excuse me?" she said, although she knew exactly what he meant.
The back of her dress dipped considerably lower than the front, coming to a V just above her waistline. Three strands of pink crystal beads draped across her spine, filling in the opening and holding the dress in place.
Matt made another inarticulate noise and gestured at the back of her dress.
Susannah shrugged, making the beaded strands shimmy over her skin, and turned back to the counter. She nonchalantly reached for the champagne, secretly pleased to be getting some of her own back. He'd disconcerted her with a smile and a heated look. She'd evened the score with a little discreetly bared flesh. "Do you think it's too much?" she asked innocently, and winked at Heather.
"I think it's—" the sexiest thing I've ever seen "—too damned little," he groused. "You're going to catch pneumonia if you go outside in that thing."
"My evening wrap is very warm." She turned back to face him. "Champagne?" she said, and held his glass toward him with a bright smile of feminine challenge.
Matt looked at her for a long second, consideringly, fighting the twin urges to wring her neck and kiss her senseless at the same time. He decided that neither one was a viable option at the moment. He reached out and took the glass from her, draining half of it with one gulp. "We'd better get going if we don't want to be late," he said, handing the glass back to her.
Susannah took it and set it on the counter. She looked at the teenager who stood silently, watching them. "Heather? Don't you have something you want to say to Matt before we leave?"
Heather twisted her hands in the hem of her sweater, pulling it all out of shape, and shrugged noncommittally.
Susannah gave her a sharp look, tilted her head toward Matt, and then turned to get her wrap, leaving the two of them to talk privately.
"Suse thinks I should, like—" she looked at the floor, her mouth screwed up in a rueful grimace "—apologize, you know?"
"And what do you think?"
She shrugged again.
Matt waited.
Heather sighed and dug into the pocket of her shorts. "Here." She handed him a wad of bills. "What I owe you." The next words she uttered could have been I'm sorry but they were mumbled so low Matt couldn't be sure.
He smoothed the bills out, wondering if he should make her say it again, and then decided to let her off the hook. This time. "Thanks." He folded the bank notes neatly in half and slipped them into his pocket.
"Everything okay here?" Susannah asked as she came back with her wrap over her arm.
Heather looked at Matt.
He nodded.
"Did she ask your advice about her legal problem?"
"Suse!"
"What legal problem?" Matt asked warily. There was no end of legal trouble a teenager could get into these days, especially one with a go-to-hell attitude and no discernible parental influence.
"I've got it covered," Heather said, shooting a fulminating look at Susannah. "Legal Aid assigned me a lawyer yesterday afternoon. I forgot to tell you, is all."
"A lawyer?" Susannah huffed delicately. "Some first-year law student, right?"
"Second year," Heather said. "And all he has to do is, like, file some stupid papers is all. It's no big deal."
"What legal problem?" Matt demanded in a quiet tone that nevertheless had both females turning their heads to look at him.
"I'm petitioning the court to be
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