LITMIR.BIZ

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Gino could be that man. Unless you’re afraid to try?” Daisy had challenged her right back. Then she’d turned around and challenged a reluctant Gino, too.

      “She’s too pretty,” Gino had said. “She’ll want some hotshot stud.”

      Daisy had just looked him up and down. “And you’re not a stud?”

      Gino had laughed at that. “All right. Bring her on.”

      They’d been cautious to the point that Daisy sometimes wanted to bang their heads together. But gradually Rafaela and Gino had faced their doubts, had given each other a shot. Had discovered in each other what Daisy had seen from early days. Over the summer they had fallen in love.

      And now they were married.

      Daisy’s gift to them was going to be a book of photos she’d taken throughout their courtship and at their wedding. She just needed to get it finished. The pages from the courtship were done. Now she picked up the wedding invitation and set it on the flatbed scanner. It was high rag content paper, heavy and elegant.

      Daisy remembered when she’d plucked it out of the mailbox right before Thanksgiving. She had stared at it, feeling an odd sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach because she hadn’t thought it was Rafaela and Gino’s invitation at all.

      She’d thought it was Alex’s.

      She’d been shocked at the relief she’d felt upon opening it to discover Rafaela’s and Gino’s names inside.

      Of course, she’d told herself logically, even if Alex had run right out and asked his perfect woman to marry him the minute he’d left her that night, they wouldn’t have been sending out invitations right away.

      But logic had never had much to do with anything where her relationship with Alex was concerned.

      Now, taking an expansive breath, Daisy smoothed the invitation flat and lowered the lid, then pushed the scanning button.

      The phone rang as it was appearing on her screen. She picked it up absently. “Daisy Connolly.”

      “Daisy.” The voice was gruff and instantly recognizable. “I have a favor to ask.”

      “Alex,” she said as soon as she could breathe again. “What do you want?”

      “A date.”

      Once more Daisy’s breath caught in her throat. Then she realized what he was really asking for. “I am not matchmaking for you.”

      “I don’t want you to fix me up with a date. I want you.”

      I want you. She knew he didn’t mean it the way it sounded. She didn’t want him to mean it the way it sounded. But she didn’t know what he did mean, either. “What are you talking about?”

      “I need a date for Saturday night.”

      “Need a date?” That had to be a first.

      “There’s a big charity fundraising dinner and dance at the Plaza. Remember I told you I designed a new wing for a hospital? Well, I’m on the guest list—and they’re giving me some plaque or something—so I have to show up. With a date.”

      Daisy waited a beat. “What happened to Caroline?”

      “Caroline had to fly out to Hong Kong this afternoon. Unexpected breakdown of some project she’d been overseeing. She won’t be back for a week. I can’t show up alone. I’ve already committed for two. They expect me to bring someone. Head table and all that.”

      “Head table?”

      He grunted. “So I need a replacement.” And apparently in his mind it was perfectly logical that she would drop everything and accompany him to some society event in another woman’s place.

      Daisy focused on the wedding invitation on her screen. “Get your matchmaker to find you one.”

      “Can’t.”

      “Of course you can.”

      “No,” Alex said tersely. “I can’t. Thanks to you.”

      That startled her. “Me? Why me?”

      “Because, damn it, you’re the one who told me to take it slow. ‘Don’t ask her to marry you yet. Get to know her,’ you said. Make sure she’s ‘the one.’”

      He’d listened?

      “So I have been. It isn’t easy because half the time I’m out of town or she is. But we’ve gone out more.”

      “As well you should,” Daisy said firmly, still surprised that he’d done it.

      “So I can’t ask Amalie to find me a date, can I?” Alex said. “If I went out with someone else now—someone new—what would that say to Caroline? Not to mention that I’d be creating false expectations in whoever Amalie found.”

      Daisy was somewhere between dazed and amazed. “You thought of that all by yourself?” Since when had Alex put thought into the repercussions of relationships?

      “Can I help it if you put ideas in my head?”

      “Good for me.” She grinned in spite of herself.

      “So you see the problem. It has to be you.”

      Daisy pressed back against the desk chair she sat in and asked, “Why won’t I upset Caroline?”

      “She knows I need a date. I told her I was going to ask you. She’ll be glad I’ve found an old friend to go with.”

      “Old friend?” Daisy echoed.

      “You know what I mean. So,” he went on briskly, “Saturday night. Black tie. The equivalent for you. I’ll pick you up a little before eight. Where do you live?”

      “What? No! Wait. I didn’t agree.”

      “So you don’t stand behind your own advice?”

      Daisy opened her mouth to object, and couldn’t find words to convince herself, let alone ones that would convince as stubborn a man as Alex.

      “I can’t,” she said feebly.

      “Why not?”

      Because I don’t have a babysitter. She didn’t say that, even though it was certainly true. “I—My wardrobe doesn’t run to that sort of thing.”

      “Get something suitable,” he directed. “I’ll pay for it.”

      “You will not. I can’t—”

      “Did you or did you not tell me to take my time, get to know Caroline?”

      “Yes, but—” She stopped, waiting for him to cut her off, but he didn’t. He waited in silence for her next reason she couldn’t go. And she didn’t have one—other than self-protection.

      Maybe she was protesting too much. Maybe going with him would be the best self-protection there could be.

      Maybe spending an evening with Alexandros Antonides, going on a date with him, would actually force her to “move on” once and for all.

      Last time she’d felt like Cinderella going to the ball—and she’d believed she’d found Prince Charming. If she went now, she would go with no illusions at all.

      She could even dance with him—but know it ended there—know that her happy ending was waiting at home in her life with her son.

      She would be in no danger of succumbing to airy-fairy fantasies. She would enjoy the evening and come home at midnight—unlike Cinderella—with both shoes on and her heart intact.

      Daisy took a breath. “Yes, all right. I’ll do it.”

      “Great.” He sounded pleased. “What’s your address?”

      “I’ll

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