returned in time to go to supper, phoning Hunter to give him the time and place they were to eat. Hunter hung up, glancing at a nervous Jennifer poised in the doorway to her bedroom.
“You’ve got an hour to get dressed,” he said. “Time for a shower, if you like. We’re to meet him and Cynthia at the Coach and Whip for dinner.”
“All right,” she said. “I’ll be ready.”
He stared at her with quiet, steady dark eyes. “What are you going to wear?”
“Why?” she asked, startled.
He pursed his lips. “I hope it isn’t something red,” he murmured, turning away with an involuntary smile on his hard mouth.
“Oh!” she burst out.
But, he didn’t look back or say a word. He just went into his own room and closed the door.
Except for that one unexpected incident, dinner went off without a hitch. But if she’d hoped for anything from Hunter, she was doomed for disappointment. He ate and excused himself, and she didn’t see him again for the rest of the night or most of the next day. She and Cynthia amused themselves by going to a movie while Eugene had one last talk with someone on Capitol Hill. Then, almost before she knew it, Jennifer was getting ready to go to a real ball.
Jennifer felt like a girl on her first date as she put on the white satin gown to wear to the ball. She’d never been to anything really grand, although she’d come close once when she and Hunter were on assignment overseas. She put her long blond hair up in an elegant coiffure with tiny wisps of hair curling around her ears. She had a pair of satin-covered pumps that she wore with it, but the dress itself was the height of expensive luxury. She’d bought it on impulse, because at the time she’d had no place at all to wear it. It had a low-cut bodice and spaghetti straps that tied on each shoulder. The waist was fitted, but the skirt had yards and yards of material, and it flared gracefully when she walked. It covered all but the very tips of her pumps. She put on her makeup last, using just a little more than she usually did, but not too much. She looked in the mirror, fascinated because she looked totally different this way. Her whole face seemed radiant with the extra touch of rouge and the pale gray eye shadow with a tiny hint of light blue.
She looked at herself with faint satisfaction. She’d never beenglad of her looks before, but tonight she was. She wanted Hunter to be proud of her, to want to be seen with her. She closed her eyes, imagining the music of a waltz. Would Hunter ask her to dance? She smiled. Surely he would. They’d waltz around the ballroom and all eyes would be on them…That jerked her back to reality. Attention would be the last thing Hunter would want, and probably the only dances he knew were done with war dances around a campfire.
She grimaced mentally. That would be just the thing to say to him, all right. It would put them quickly back on their old, familiar footing and he’d never speak to her again. Which might not be a bad idea, she told herself. At least if he hated her openly he wouldn’t be making horrible remarks about the red dress she’d worn that one evening they’d gone out together.
On the other hand, why had he mentioned it at all? That was twice, she realized, that he’d made a remark about that particular dress. She smiled to herself. Well, well. He remembered it, did he? She’d go right out and find herself another red dress, one that was even more revealing, and she’d wear it until he screamed!
The sudden hard rap on the door made her jump. “Yes?” she called out.
“Time to go,” Hunter replied quietly.
She grabbed her purse, almost upending the entire contents on the floor in the process, and rushed to their joint sitting room.
She stopped short at the sight of Hunter in a dinner jacket. It could have been made for him, she thought as she stared at him. The dark jacket with its white silk shirt and black tie might have been designed for his coloring.
“You’ve got an hour to get dressed,” he said. “Time for a shower, if you like. We’re to meet him and Cynthia at the Coach and Whip for dinner.”
“All right,” she said. “I’ll be ready.”
He stared at her with quiet, steady dark eyes. “What are you going to wear?”
“Why?” she asked, startled.
He pursed his lips. “I hope it isn’t something red,” he murmured, turning away with an involuntary smile on his hard mouth.
“Oh!” she burst out.
But, he didn’t look back or say a word. He just went into his own room and closed the door.
Except for that one unexpected incident, dinner went off without a hitch. But if she’d hoped for anything from Hunter, she was doomed for disappointment. He ate and excused himself, and she didn’t see him again for the rest of the night or most of the next day. She and Cynthia amused themselves by going to a movie while Eugene had one last talk with someone on Capitol Hill. Then, almost before she knew it, Jennifer was getting ready to go to a real ball.
Jennifer felt like a girl on her first date as she put on the white satin gown to wear to the ball. She’d never been to anything really grand, although she’d come close once when she and Hunter were on assignment overseas. She put her long blond hair up in an elegant coiffure with tiny wisps of hair curling around her ears. She had a pair of satin-covered pumps that she wore with it, but the dress itself was the height of expensive luxury. She’d bought it on impulse, because at the time she’d had no place at all to wear it. It had a low-cut bodice and spaghetti straps that tied on each shoulder. The waist was fitted, but the skirt had yards and yards of material, and it flared gracefully when she walked. It covered all but the very tips of her pumps. She put on her makeup last, using just a little more than she usually did, but not too much. She looked in the mirror, fascinated because she looked totally different this way. Her whole face seemed radiant with the extra touch of rouge and the pale gray eye shadow with a tiny hint of light blue.
She looked at herself with faint satisfaction. She’d never beenglad of her looks before, but tonight she was. She wanted Hunter to be proud of her, to want to be seen with her. She closed her eyes, imagining the music of a waltz. Would Hunter ask her to dance? She smiled. Surely he would. They’d waltz around the ballroom and all eyes would be on them…That jerked her back to reality. Attention would be the last thing Hunter would want, and probably the only dances he knew were done with war dances around a campfire.
She grimaced mentally. That would be just the thing to say to him, all right. It would put them quickly back on their old, familiar footing and he’d never speak to her again. Which might not be a bad idea, she told herself. At least if he hated her openly he wouldn’t be making horrible remarks about the red dress she’d worn that one evening they’d gone out together.
On the other hand, why had he mentioned it at all? That was twice, she realized, that he’d made a remark about that particular dress. She smiled to herself. Well, well. He remembered it, did he? She’d go right out and find herself another red dress, one that was even more revealing, and she’d wear it until he screamed!
The sudden hard rap on the door made her jump. “Yes?” she called out.
“Time to go,” Hunter replied quietly.
She grabbed her purse, almost upending the entire contents on the floor in the process, and rushed to their joint sitting room.
She stopped short at the sight of Hunter in a dinner jacket. It could have been made for him, she thought as she stared at him. The dark jacket with its white silk shirt and black tie might have been designed for his coloring.
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