Cross My Heart (A Contemporary Romance Novel)

I’m definitely waiting for you out here.”
    She put the flowers in water but set aside one perfect rose, snipping off most of the stem and sliding it behind her ear.
    Michael touched it gently when she came back. “Rose Red,” he said softly, and she looked at him quizzically. “Snow White’s sister,” he explained. “Did you know that Snow White was actually a blonde?”
    “No, I didn’t know that. How in the world do you know that?”
    He put his hand on the small of her back as they walked to his car, which he’d parked in her driveway. “I used to read fairy tales to Claire when she was little. There was one called Snow White and Rose Red, no relation to Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. It was about two sisters. Snow White was blonde and sweet and shy, and liked to stay indoors. Rose Red had dark hair and preferred to play outdoors, and was much more boisterous. Claire liked Snow White, because they were both blonde. I always preferred Rose Red.”
    She smiled at him. “I never would have pegged you as a fan of fairy tales. You’re a man of many surprises, Dr. Stone. Speaking of surprises...”
    “I told you, no wheedling,” he reminded her as he opened the passenger side door.
    She waited until he was sitting beside her, ready to turn the key in the ignition, before she leaned in close to whisper in his ear. “Pretty please?”
    He turned his head to look at her. “Evil temptress,” he whispered back, his eyes gleaming with equal parts amusement and desire.
    “Just give me a hint,” she asked as he turned on the engine and pulled into the street. “Movie? Play? Dancing? What?”
    “No hints.”
    He held out all the way into the city, even though she tried a few wheedling techniques that probably wouldn’t have met with the approval of a motor vehicle safety commission. By the time they got to the restaurant she’d gained no information about the evening’s entertainment, but had revved Michael’s engines to the point where, after the valet had driven off with his car, he pulled her into the alley beside the restaurant and kissed her senseless.
    He tucked the rose back into place when he was done, and offered his arm in a courtly gesture. “Milady?”
    She was still patting her hair into place, her face warm and glowing. “You’re lucky I’m wearing smear-proof lipstick,” she told him primly, and he grinned at her. “You have to give me a hint after that,” she added.
    “No hints,” he said again, escorting her into the beautiful restaurant.
    “What if I—”
    “If you finish that sentence, you won’t get dinner. I think I remember you saying something about being hungry?”
    They were inside the restaurant now, being led to a corner table, and the scents around her were delectable.
    “You win,” she said.
    It was a perfect meal. Delicious food, incredible wine, and great conversation in a lovely, romantic setting. Jenna gave a little sigh of contentment as they left the restaurant, pausing under the red awning to wait for the valet to bring the car around.
    But Michael took her hand and started to walk down the sidewalk instead.
    “Aren’t we taking the car?”
    “Nope.”
    She looked at him, but his expression gave nothing away. “Okay. Wherever we’re going is within walking distance. Hmm. I can’t think of any—”
    He stopped just three buildings down from the restaurant, and Jenna looked up to see a beautiful old church.
    She looked at him with her eyebrows raised. “Okay, you’ve managed to surprise me. Out of all the places I thought you might take me tonight, church wasn’t even in the top fifty.”
    He was grinning at her. “We chose this place because of the acoustics.”
    “The acoustics? And what do you mean, ‘we’?”
    He tugged on her hand. “Come on.”
    He led her inside, and she gasped.
    It was fairyland. Candles flickered along the main aisle, leading them to two empty chairs at the front of the nave, where a group of classical musicians were tuning their instruments.
    One of the violinists looked up when they came in. “Michael! I was wondering if you’d be on time. And this must be Jenna.”
    “Hello, Sally. It’s wonderful to see you again. And yes, this is Jenna.”
    “Lovely to meet you, dear. I’m Sally Vale.”
    “I—it’s lovely to meet you, too.”
    Jenna stared at the woman, whose silver hair fell past her shoulders. “That’s Sally Vale,” she whispered urgently to Michael.
    “I know.” He gestured for her to