The Princess Bride by Diana Palmer

eyes that could sparkle or stun. He was elegant, devastating to look at, a physical presence wherever he went. He had power and wealth and the arrogance that went with them. But was he capable of love, with the sort of loveless background he’d had? Could he learn it?
    As she studied him, his head turned and he studied her, his eyes admiring her beauty, her grace. Something altered in the eyes that swept over her and his eyes narrowed.
    â€œAm I slurping my soup?” she asked with an impish grin.
    Caught off guard, he chuckled. “No. I was thinking what a beauty you are,” he said honestly. “You won’t change much in twenty years. You may get a gray hair or two, but you’ll still be a miracle.”
    â€œWhat a nice thing to say,” she murmured, putting down her soup spoon. “You remember that, in about six years’ time. I’ll remind you, in case you forget.”
    â€œI won’t forget,” he mused.
    Harrison let out a faint sigh of relief. Surely it was only prenuptial nerves eating at King. The man had known Tiffany for years, after all, there wouldn’t be many surprises for them. They had things in common and they liked each other. Even if love was missing at first, he knew it would come. It would have to. Nothing short of it would hold a man like King.
    Tiffany glanced at her father’s somber expression and lifted an eyebrow. “It’s a wedding, not a wake,” she chided.
    He jerked and then laughed. “Sorry, darling, I was miles away.”
    â€œThinking about Lettie?” she teased.
    He glared at her. “I was not,” he snapped back. “If they ever barbecue her, I’ll bring the sauce.”
    â€œYou know you like her. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.”
    â€œShe’s a constant irritation, like a mole at the belt line.”
    Tiffany’s eyes widened. “What a comparison!”
    â€œI’ve got a better one,” he said darkly.
    â€œDon’t say it!”
    â€œSpoilsport,” he muttered, attacking his slice of apple pie as if it were armed.
    King was listening to the byplay, not with any real interest. He was deeply thoughtful and unusually quiet. He glanced at Tiffany occasionally, but now his expression was one of vague concern and worry. Was he keeping something from her? Perhaps something was going on in his life that she didn’t know about. If she could get him alone later, perhaps he’d tell her what it was.
    But after they finished eating, King glanced quickly at his watch and said that he had to get back to the office to finish up some paperwork.
    Tiffany got up from the table and followed him into the hallway. “I thought we might have a minute to talk,” she said worriedly. “We’re getting married tomorrow.”
    â€œWhich is why I have to work late tonight,” he replied tersely. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve given myself a week off. Ask your father.”
    â€œI don’t have to. I know how hard you work.” She looked up at him with real concern. “There’s still time to back out, if you want to.”
    His eyebrows shot up. “Do you want to?”
    She gnawed the inside of her lip, wondering if that was what he wanted her to admit. It was so difficult trying to read his thoughts. She couldn’t begin to.
    â€œNo,” she said honestly. “I don’t want to. But if you do…”
    â€œWe’ll go through with it,” he said. “After all, we’ve got plenty in common. And it will keep the business in the family.”
    â€œYes, it will go to our children…” she began.
    â€œGood God,” he laughed without mirth, “don’t start talking about a family! That’s years away, for us.” He scowled suddenly and stared at her. “You haven’t seen a doctor, have you?”
    â€œFor the blood test,” she reminded him,