A Convenient Proposal - By Lynnette Kent Page 0,54

came through the door. “Oh, no. That bad, was it?”

Lauren, on the sofa, slid to the side. “Come sit,” she said, patting the cushion beside her. “Dana, pour a glass of champagne.”

Arden widened her eyes as Dana went to a sideboard along the wall and took a bottle from the wine cooler sitting there.

“Zelda’s smart,” Lauren remarked, holding out a glass for her sister to refill. “She knows we come here to relax away from our men.”

“God bless them,” Dana added, just as Kathy came through the door. “They’re sweet and necessary, but sometimes they drive you nuts.”

“Dad’s special.” Kathy dropped into the armchair and put her feet on the matching ottoman. “Where Jim can be annoying, even frustrating, Dad is…”

“Brutal?” Lauren suggested.

Dana shook her head. “That’s a little harsh.”

Lauren sipped her champagne. “Demanding isn’t quite right.”

“Arrogant, impertinent and intrusive.” Arden swallowed a gulp of her champagne. Then caught her breath in case she’d insulted the man’s daughters.

But the three sisters nodded. “That covers it,” Kathy said. “You can be comforted by the fact that you haven’t suffered alone. Jim didn’t call me for a week after Dad had a talk with him.”

“I had to track Gary down at his mother’s house in Tennessee.” Dana rolled her eyes. “He wasn’t sure he wanted to come back.”

Lauren put a hand on Arden’s arm. “My Steve was a Marine, so he stood his ground. But he did say he’d never been so scared, and that I’d better be a good wife after what I’d put him through.” She winked. “I proved it to him on our wedding night.”

With champagne bubbles easing her tension, Arden was able to laugh with the other women. “I’m sure your dad is concerned about Griff’s happiness.” She got to her feet along with them. “But the decision belongs to Griff.” A thought struck her. “Did your father interrogate Zelda, too?”

The Campbell sisters didn’t know the answer to that question. As she prepared to return to the ballroom, Arden had to wonder if Jake Campbell’s interview with Zelda had anything to do with the broken engagement.

Stepping through the door into the hallway, she found Griff waiting just outside. “Are you all right?” He looked her over, took her hands in his, then released them and cupped her cheeks with his palms. “Did he give you a bad time? Tell me the truth.”

She could tell him only some of the truth—as usual. “He was…inquisitive. And intimidating. But I’m fine, and we’re wasting the music.” Clasping his hand, she walked toward the ballroom. “Come on.”

Before they could reach the dance floor, however, they encountered Zelda and Al, sharing what must have been a rare moment alone. Their romantic pose—she was straightening his tie as he brushed wisps of hair back from her face—daunted Arden.

But she and Griff couldn’t turn back, couldn’t change direction. She didn’t even get the chance to glance at him to see his reaction.

“Hello again,” Zelda said warily. Tonight’s dress was pink. “Thanks for coming.”

“It’s a lovely event,” Arden told her. “The champagne in the ladies’ room is a brilliant idea.”

Zelda’s laugh sounded like treble bells ringing. “I think so. I’ve always wished someone would do that—so I did.”

Al frowned at his fiancée. “What’s the point of champagne in the restroom?”

“I don’t get it, either,” Griff said.

“It’s a girl thing.” Zelda patted Al’s arm. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s go dance.” She gave a little wave and led him toward the front of the room.

Arden looked at Griff, just behind her.

“Lead on,” he said. “At least till we get the rhythm.”

He wasn’t as good a dancer as his father, but his arm fitted exactly right around her waist, and their hands clasped like two halves of a whole. Their steps blended and their bodies swayed with the same timing, the same feel.

Arden sighed and rested her head on Griff’s shoulder. If she could trust, without reservation, only one person in the world, it had to be Griff Campbell. Honorable, conscientious, considerate and kind…what more could she ask of a man?

Great sex, she supposed. And Griff managed that feat, too.

As the evening wore on, they stopped occasionally to drink champagne or to chat with someone he knew, but never for more than one song. Older guests started to leave, but the younger crowd stayed on to dance. Fast numbers and slow ones, waltz, swing or rumba, Griff and Arden tried them all.

Until, around midnight, she had to admit her feet were giving out, and he confessed his bow