arrow-straight line to her feet, and only a slit up one side allowed her enough room to take a step.
The gown enhanced the fragile quality about Leigh, its midnight color emphasizing her fairness. Despite the fact that she was rather tall for a woman, Leigh somehow conveyed a wistful, dreamlike beauty.
To accent the Victorian style of the gown, she swept her silvery hair into a knot at the top of her head, teasing a few tendrils out to curl around her ears and neck. Using all her model's skill, she brushed a silver-blue shadow onto her eyelids, touched her cheeks with rosy blusher and her lips with a matching deep pink, and she was quickly ready. She was just giving her makeup a last check in the mirror when the door to her room opened. Through the mirror she saw Jason appear, an elegant stranger in evening clothes.
"Closed doors are for knocking," she pointed out coolly, refusing to turn around.
"This is my house and you're my wife," he returned arrogantly, matching her tone.
At that, Leigh swung to face him. "Did you want something?"
He didn't answer, but his look was insinuating.
Leigh stood up, her carriage straight and full of unconscious pride.
"I'm ready, if that's what you came to see about." She walked over to the bed and picked up a black beaded evening purse lying there.
"What are you so nervous about?" he asked, too close for comfort, his observant eyes noting the slight tremor of the hand clutching the bag.
"Is it because I'm in here? Women's bedrooms are no novelty to me, Leigh."
"Well, I'm not used to having a man in mine."
He continued to stare at her a long moment before his mouth relaxed in a genuine smile, so appealing that it took her breath away.
"No, I don't think you are, little one," he said softly, so close to her his breath touched her forehead.
Discomfited, she was toying with the snap fastening of her purse when his next words brought her head up with a jerk.
"I've brought you a present."
He reached inside his blue velvet dinner jacket and brought out a small square case, which he handed to her.
"Open it," he ordered.
On a bed of black satin lay a pair of diamond earrings, the large round stones winking blue-white in the overhead light.
Leigh caught her breath with a gasp. "They're beautiful."
She closed the case and handed it back to him.
"I can't accept them."
"Why not?" His voice was grim.
"They're too expensive, for one thing. For another, we're about to get an annulment to a marriage that never should have taken place. Why should you give me a gift?"
"Don't be so suspicious, Leigh," he said shortly. "I won't expect any—payment—if that's what's bothering you. The earrings are a trinket. I can well afford much more. The point is, to our guests tonight, you're my wife, and you'll look the part."
When she made no move to take the case from his hand, a muscle twitched at the side of his mouth.
"However much you may dislike me, Leigh, your soft heart won't let you make me the object of neighborhood gossip, will it? You'll look, and act, like a real wife tonight."
At his clever, absolutely correct reasoning, Leigh took the jewels and screwed them onto her earlobes. The glance she threw him was full of exasperation.
"You are an impossible man, Jason Randall. Does anyone ever get the better of you?"
"Not if I can help it. Although a certain beautiful blonde keeps trying."
As he started to laugh, she joined in, unable to help herself, and together they walked downstairs to await their guests.
Leigh wanted to check the dining room, to make sure everything was in place, so Jason equably accompanied her. The mahogany table was now extended to its full length, its burnished sheen highlighted by place settings of shimmering crystal and bone china. Instead of a tablecloth, Leigh had chosen to use forest green linen mats, whose color was reflected in the greenery of the centerpiece of yellow forsythia and buttercups that she had arranged in a round bronze vase.
Her inspection
The gown enhanced the fragile quality about Leigh, its midnight color emphasizing her fairness. Despite the fact that she was rather tall for a woman, Leigh somehow conveyed a wistful, dreamlike beauty.
To accent the Victorian style of the gown, she swept her silvery hair into a knot at the top of her head, teasing a few tendrils out to curl around her ears and neck. Using all her model's skill, she brushed a silver-blue shadow onto her eyelids, touched her cheeks with rosy blusher and her lips with a matching deep pink, and she was quickly ready. She was just giving her makeup a last check in the mirror when the door to her room opened. Through the mirror she saw Jason appear, an elegant stranger in evening clothes.
"Closed doors are for knocking," she pointed out coolly, refusing to turn around.
"This is my house and you're my wife," he returned arrogantly, matching her tone.
At that, Leigh swung to face him. "Did you want something?"
He didn't answer, but his look was insinuating.
Leigh stood up, her carriage straight and full of unconscious pride.
"I'm ready, if that's what you came to see about." She walked over to the bed and picked up a black beaded evening purse lying there.
"What are you so nervous about?" he asked, too close for comfort, his observant eyes noting the slight tremor of the hand clutching the bag.
"Is it because I'm in here? Women's bedrooms are no novelty to me, Leigh."
"Well, I'm not used to having a man in mine."
He continued to stare at her a long moment before his mouth relaxed in a genuine smile, so appealing that it took her breath away.
"No, I don't think you are, little one," he said softly, so close to her his breath touched her forehead.
Discomfited, she was toying with the snap fastening of her purse when his next words brought her head up with a jerk.
"I've brought you a present."
He reached inside his blue velvet dinner jacket and brought out a small square case, which he handed to her.
"Open it," he ordered.
On a bed of black satin lay a pair of diamond earrings, the large round stones winking blue-white in the overhead light.
Leigh caught her breath with a gasp. "They're beautiful."
She closed the case and handed it back to him.
"I can't accept them."
"Why not?" His voice was grim.
"They're too expensive, for one thing. For another, we're about to get an annulment to a marriage that never should have taken place. Why should you give me a gift?"
"Don't be so suspicious, Leigh," he said shortly. "I won't expect any—payment—if that's what's bothering you. The earrings are a trinket. I can well afford much more. The point is, to our guests tonight, you're my wife, and you'll look the part."
When she made no move to take the case from his hand, a muscle twitched at the side of his mouth.
"However much you may dislike me, Leigh, your soft heart won't let you make me the object of neighborhood gossip, will it? You'll look, and act, like a real wife tonight."
At his clever, absolutely correct reasoning, Leigh took the jewels and screwed them onto her earlobes. The glance she threw him was full of exasperation.
"You are an impossible man, Jason Randall. Does anyone ever get the better of you?"
"Not if I can help it. Although a certain beautiful blonde keeps trying."
As he started to laugh, she joined in, unable to help herself, and together they walked downstairs to await their guests.
Leigh wanted to check the dining room, to make sure everything was in place, so Jason equably accompanied her. The mahogany table was now extended to its full length, its burnished sheen highlighted by place settings of shimmering crystal and bone china. Instead of a tablecloth, Leigh had chosen to use forest green linen mats, whose color was reflected in the greenery of the centerpiece of yellow forsythia and buttercups that she had arranged in a round bronze vase.
Her inspection
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