LITMIR.BIZ

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will I?’

      ‘He’ll think you didn’t go because you knew he’d be there with Melanie. He’ll think it matters to you that he’s with someone and you’re not.’

      Yes, he damn well would. But it was Adam Donovan they were talking about, here. Adam bloody Donovan.

      Dana searched for another exit route. ‘I wouldn’t be believable as someone Adam Donovan would look twice at.’

      ‘Because you’re not his type?’

      ‘Exactly. Like I said.’

      Tara shook her head. Didn’t Dana ever look in the mirror? ‘I think I need that explained better.’

      With a frown, Dana looked away from Tara’s probing gaze. ‘He exclusively dates the glamour girl type—all makeup and shiny hair and cleavage. The vaguely vacant type is all I’ve ever seen come by for lunch. Trust me. I’m not like that.’

      Tara studied Dana’s controlled exterior. To all the world she was sleek, elegant, sophisticated. Nothing was ruffled or out of place, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Everything indicated that she was matter-of-fact, ultra-smart and businesslike, reliable. Nothing about her exterior indicated her creative personality or the wicked sense of humour that every member of her family possessed.

      Tara’s eyes wandered over the dark hair swept back into a neat chignon at the neck of her jacket, the face with delicate features barely touched by make-up. Ah-ha…

      ‘We could do a makeover.’

      ‘A what?’

      ‘A makeover. Recreate Dana Taylor for one night.’ Tara’s smile grew, her imagination kicking in. ‘That’d get the room talking. The brand-new, sexy Dana with the drop-dead gorgeous Adam Donovan. Hell, that’s bound to make you the talk of the town for a few months. “In your face” material if ever I heard it.’

      Dana watched as the idea formed in her sister-in-law’s eyes, her face now animated. This thing was getting out of control. Really. It was a runaway train.

      ‘What kind of makeover?’

      ‘You just had to volunteer didn’t you?’

      Adam looked at his own eyes in the rearview mirror.

      ‘Yeah, and you nearly, almost got away with it. But, no. You went and volunteered, and now you’re going to a reunion with the woman you spend half your life trying to get away from.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re a genius, aren’t you?’

      With practised ease he honed his sports car round a corner at its usual sixty miles an hour, and then swore as he had to reduce speed rapidly to make the turn into Jack and Tara’s lane way.

      His business partner and best friend had let the bachelor team down badly when he’d gone and got married. But Adam had forgiven him—just about. After all, the man was happy—hell, contented, almost. He could forgive the act if it had that result on a guy he loved like a brother. But as for Jack lumbering Adam with his pain-in-the-ass sister… Well, that would take longer to forgive.

      He parked his favourite toy, took a deep breath, and walked up the steps and onto the porch of the huge Victorian house. The door swung open before he got to it.

      ‘Hey, pal.’ Jack Lewis grinned at him from the doorway. ‘Nice tux. Don’t you look sweet?’

      ‘Anyone ever told you how much you’d suit a black eye?’

      ‘Nope, but if you reckon you’re man enough to try it out…’

      Adam grinned across at him. The two men were of equal height at the six-two mark. ‘Nah, wouldn’t dare. Your wife would kick my ass.’

      ‘Indeed she would.’ Jack stood back to allow Adam to step into the hallway, his hand immediately reaching across to slap his back. ‘This is a nice thing you’re doing, by the way, so I’ll just get this out of the way right now…’ He waited until Adam looked him in the eye. ‘I appreciate it.’

      He damn well should. Adam smiled at the younger man. ‘No problem.’

      Jack’s face changed slightly. ‘If you knew what that useless ex-husband of hers—’

      Adam had moved closer as Jack began to confide in him, but was distracted when movement caught the corner of his eye from the top of the stairs. Turning his head, he glanced upwards as Dana approached.

      If his mind hadn’t recognised the woman as Dana Taylor he’d have fallen in love there and then. She was, quite simply, stunning.

      ‘Are you going to keep on looking at me like that all night?’ She didn’t look across at him as he smoothly changed gears and sped along the wide road.

      Adam gritted his teeth. This was going to be the longest night of his life. ‘And how exactly am I looking at you?’

      She took a breath and stared at the alien that was her own reflection in the windscreen. ‘Like you’re a chocaholic and I’m a bar of best Swiss.’

      He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. How in God’s name had she noticed that, when she’d spent the last twenty minutes staring straight ahead? The atmosphere in his small car couldn’t have been cut in half with a chainsaw.

      ‘That’s how most men with a pulse look at women who wear dresses like you’re wearing—didn’t you know?’ He smiled sarcastically. ‘It’s a chemical reaction, so don’t get your G-string in a twist.’

      Dana sincerely hoped his remark was flippant and not because he could actually see what she was wearing beneath the dress.

      Tara had been like a woman possessed from the moment the word makeover had left her lips. Dana, left to herself, would never have worn a dress like this in a billion years. After all, at her age she had things like hypothermia to consider.

      ‘Well, could you kindly stop it?’

      ‘Why? Aren’t I supposed to be your date? Let me tell you, if this was a real date and you wore that dress we wouldn’t even have left the house yet—and you’d have your make-up to fix in about an hour.’

      She squirmed slightly on her seat, his words conjuring images in her mind that her imagination had no business creating. For the entire day she had been trying to think up ways of getting out of this charade. But Tara had been having so much fun with it all, and in a small way it was flattering to have people stunned by her transformation. Even if the majority of them were family and the other was the one person on the planet who irritated her most.

      ‘Well, we’ll never know, will we? Because this isn’t a real date.’

      They drove on in silence for several long minutes, each of them alone with their thoughts. Adam caught her squirming again in the seat beside him and smiled with sudden realisation. ‘You’re uncomfortable as hell with how you look tonight, aren’t you?’

      Great. Insight. When had he developed that?

      ‘I’m not exactly dressed as me tonight, am I?’ The words spilled out. She really shouldn’t have drunk all that red wine while Tara got her ready.

      He shrugged. ‘Not as the anally retentive you that I work with every day, no.’

      ‘Anally retentive?’ She turned her head to frown at his words. ‘You think I’m anally retentive?’

      Adam glanced at her and grinned. ‘Hell, yes. You think you aren’t?’

      Was she? She mulled his words over in her mind as the car sped towards their destination. The Dana of old would never have been described as anally retentive. Far from it. She’d been wild back in the day—a practical joker, a live wire. But back then she’d been carefree. Life had changed that. Now she was a single mother, and responsibility came with that title. Maybe she was a tad anally retentive in her working life—when Adam saw her. It was the only part of her life she’d ever

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