Dance with the Devil by Cherry Adair Page B

the large room to the front door.
    â€œAnd where have you two lovebirds been?” Sandy asked archly. She was standing right at the foot of the stairs, a finger of brandy in her glass and a plate of canapés in her other hand. “Where’s that dance you promised me, you rat?”
    â€œRain check, beautiful,” Jack gave her a sleepy grin. “I have to get my girl home before she turns into a pumpkin.”
    Sandy grinned. “Is your sweetie a little smashed?”
    Mia gave the other woman a meaningful look and wrapped her arm more tightly around Jack’s waist making sure his side was tucked against hers. “Drunk on love, Sandy. I’ll call you in a couple of days.”
    â€œOne more dance before we go,” Jack insisted, wrapping both arms around her. It took all Mia’s strength to hold him up.
    â€œWe’ll dance at home, honey.” She refused to let him stay here where he could bleed to death on the polished parquet floor.
    By the time they reached the front door, her dress was saturated with Jack’s blood and her arms were screaming for mercy. Fortunately they looked the epitome of a romantic couple as they clung to each other wordlessly. Thank God no one stopped to talk.
    â€œDon’t you dare die on me, Jack Ryan,” Mia growled as someone let the front door swing open in their wake. “Don’t you dare. ” The door closed leaving the two of them standing under the portico. A limo, several yards away, flashed its lights.
    Robert. Thank God.
    â€œYou’re marrying me,” she told Jack sternly. “I want the whole nine yards. Flowers, preacher, music, bunny hop, everything. Besides, I have about sixty-five years of flack to give you for this blind date from hell. So don’t take the easy way—” He sagged against her. “Oh, thank God,” Mia breathed a sigh of relief as Jack’s driver stepped up and grabbed him from the other side. “I think he fainted.”
    â€œPassed out, darling. Passed out. Men don’t faint, for God’s sake. And I haven’t,” Jack muttered as Mia and his driver folded him into the back seat of the car. “You’re going to remind me about tonight every year on our anniversary, aren’t you?” Jack asked as the car flew down Massachusetts Avenue and away from Embassy Row.
    â€œAnd twice on Sundays,” Mia told him sweetly, cradling his head on her lap and brushing back his hair.
    Jack sighed. “Good.” Eyes closed, he stroked her leg. “I have candles at my place. And champagne on ice. I wanted to do the whole proposal thing right—”
    So he’d known he was going to propose before their evening had even started. “Are you kidding?” she asked. “A proposal in the snow, with bullets flying and bad guys chasing us across rooftops? What could be more romantic than that?”
    He smiled against her thigh as Robert stepped on the gas and headed for the hospital at illegal speeds. “I always knew you were my woman, Mia.”
    He rose up awkwardly to kiss her. Mia bent her head to meet him halfway. “And don’t you forget it.” Their lips met with aching tenderness.
    â€œGonna pass out now,” Jack warned as his head dropped back to her lap and his eyes drifted shut. “Don’ go, ’K? Love you…all my life.”
    â€œI love you, too, you impossible man. Rest now. I’ll be right there when you wake up.”
    And she was. As Jack had known she would be.

ISBN: 978-1-4268-1326-9
    DANCE WITH THE DEVIL
    Copyright © 2003 by Cherry Wilkinson
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