Real Romance - By Ginny Baird Page 0,31

the first Thanksgiving in years that he hadn't brought home a girl, and his boredom was showing already.

"Soup's on!" Meg called, approaching from the kitchen. David had thought one was missing when he'd counted eavesdropping heads. No, two. David looked around. Where was Jack?

As if in answer to the question, Jack came out of the dining room. "Where shall we seat our guest?" he asked tactfully.

It annoyed Marie no end that she apparently had no say in whether or not David was staying for dinner, even though she was hosting it.

Not only that, but then everybody squabbled over where he would sit. Jack wanted to talk basketball, while Teresa wanted a detailed story about how Marie and David met. Mark wanted to discuss all the best ski resorts. Meg had grown up in North Carolina, and Johnny, the surgeon, was suddenly eager to hear all about some new lens-making procedure from David.

Marie sighed and cleared the salad plates, relieved that David had been seated at the opposite end of the table, but still not entirely sure she liked him occupying her father's chair. She walked to the kitchen, as a round of laughter exploded at her back, and the thought occurred to her that she might as well not be here at all.

She deposited the plates in the sink, then felt the rush of revelation. Of course! It was so obvious, she hadn't even seen it. As much as she loathed him being here, as desperately as she'd been trying not to meet his gaze, David was actually rescuing her.

For once in the past eight years, Marie was going to be able to enjoy a Thanksgiving dinner in peace. No probing questions, no ribbing. Done. It was settled. She was engaged! And now the spotlight was on David, not her.

Marie released a deep breath and let go of a lot of tension with it. If David was happy to play along, as he seemed content to do, then why not her? Get through this annual holiday. Get back to work, then move on. All she needed was a little more cooperation from David, and then after a couple more weeks she'd tell her siblings the engagement was off. With her track record, they'd certainly believe that.

Marie squared her shoulders and walked to the swinging door that led to the dining room. "Oh, David," she said, peeping through the door, her voice all sugar-sweetness. "Honey, could you come in here and help me with the turkey?"

"Carve it, you mean?" he asked, feeling his blood rush to his feet. David knew what that would require: long, sharp knives—or at least one. And one was all it would take, with a woman as riled as Marie. She'd hardly spoken to him all evening. Had barely turned her eyes upon his. And, when she had, he'd seen nothing more there than utter disregard.

David excused himself from the table and walked toward the kitchen, believing, at least, there was safety in numbers. Her whole family seemed to like him. And, boy, what a nice bunch they were. His family's dinners in Ashville had never been like this. No, instead of warm exchanges and laughter, they'd been filled with financial figures and boredom. He and his sister Debbie had never gotten a word in edgewise, and were always dismissed the moment they had finished their dinners.

"You called?" he asked, as the swinging door closed at his back.

"David," Marie said, holding up a long, gleaming knife. "I have a proposition."

David swallowed past the lump in his throat. "Oh, yeah?" he asked, his voice suddenly squeaky as a thirteen-year-old's.

"You and I are engaged," she said, digging the knife into the breast of the turkey and slicing off a chunk.

"Okay," he said, making no effort to move from where he was.

"Come over here, will you?" she said, motioning with the knife. "I don't want to shout it, for heaven's sake."

David steeled himself and took a few steps forward.

"What's wrong with you, anyway?" Marie asked. "One minute you're the loving fiancé, the next you act as if you're afraid..." She looked down at the knife which she'd thrust back into the turkey carcass.

"Oh, no!" She burst out laughing. "No, no, no..." Marie snorted. "You couldn't possibly have thought—ha!" She dropped the knife to the carving board.

"Hey!" Mark shouted from the dining room. "Are we going to get any dinner in here, or should we all just depart and leave you two alone?"

"David," Marie said, bringing herself under control and standing