The Sometime Bride

business for about a year now, isn’t that right?”
    Gilpatrick’s gray eyes warmed in appreciation. “I see Carrie’s not the only one with an aptitude for doing her homework.”
    Mike pulled Carrie in a little tighter, her side heating his skin, even through his clothing. “She’s quite the student, my Carrie,” Mike said, caressing her shoulder.
    Carrie squirmed in his grip as his fire spiked through her. It started at his fingertips, where they lightly massaged and caressed her bare shoulder, ricocheted to her breastbone, then sank low in her belly. Boy, was she done for, Carrie thought, realizing she’d missed something in the conversation and that both Charles and Mike now had their expectant gazes turned on her.
    “Honey?” Mike asked, leaning over, his whiskey whisper tickling her ear.
    Carrie blanched, suddenly light-headed. “Yeah, sure. That’s fine,” she responded, sinking into her chair beneath the two men’s congenial laughter.
    “The Merlot will be fine, Charles,” Mike said. “Thanks so much for the offer and coming over to introduce yourself.”
    “The pleasure’s all mine,” Charles said, departing with a nod of his head.
    Carrie picked up her water glass and drained most of it while Mike sat across from her. “What was so funny?” she asked, knowing she’d embarrass herself by asking but fearing it would be worse for her still if she never even knew.
    Mike’s smile broadened over his own water glass. “Charles had offered a complimentary bottle of Virginia wine, or in your case, since you’re such a special guest— his entire wine cellar, to which you—”
    Carrie rested her near-empty water glass against the side of her flaming cheek. “Indicated I’d take the whole wine cellar.”
    “More or less,” Mike replied with a grin. “But, no worries, I saved our new friend from bankruptcy by agreeing to take him up on his earlier offer of a Merlot instead.”
    “I see,” said Carrie, setting down her glass.
    A wine steward appeared and displayed a Norton Vineyard label before Mike. “Excellent year,” Mike said. “Believe that one was an award winner, wasn’t it?”
    Their server nodded solemnly and uncorked the bottle with white-gloved hands. After a brief wine-tasting interlude, the beverage was poured and Mike and Carrie left alone to once again confront each other in peace.
    “Mind telling me why we are considered such special guests in this place?” Mike asked, lifting his glass.
    “Mind telling me how you know so much about Virginia wines?”
    Mike swirled his glass and surveyed the softly shadowed face of the woman in front of him. Elegant, sophisticated, and, if she was getting special treatment from innkeepers, most likely rich. In light of all that, Mike somehow didn’t think telling Carrie he’d spent his high school summers working the vineyards would sound all that impressive.
    “Let’s just say,” Mike said, lightly clinking her glass, “I’m a man of impeccable taste.”
    “To impeccable taste,” Carrie said, raising her wine to her lips.
    “Seriously, Carrie,” Mike said, once they’d both set their glasses back on the table. “Why is it that we, or rather you, merit such special treatment here?”
    Carrie looked at him innocently and shrugged, picking up her menu.
    Mike reached out and lowered the laminated page so he could look in her eyes. “Are you…? You’re not…?”
    “What?” she asked, her eyes lighting with amusement. “Somebody famous?”
    Mike leaned in just a tiny bit more. “We-ell?” he asked, drawing out the word in a blood-pounding way as sea-green eyes washed all over her.
    Carrie laid down her menu and gripped the table edge to get her bearings. “Nope. Nobody famous, if you must know. Just your regular old girl from Virginia. Hope that doesn’t disappoint too much.”
    Uh-uh. Carrie St. John had done nothing to disappointment him yet, and she wasn’t going to start now. Her eyes were fanning wide, half playful, half daring. The deepest chocolate brown, even darker by candlelight than they’d appeared in the light of day. And everything about her seemed to be drawing Mike closer. Even as he willed himself to remain stoic in his chair.
    But instead of staying put, Mike found himself reaching across the table. Wrapping her satiny shoulders in his trembling grip, leaning his mouth in toward hers as the moonlight and the table and the milling voices of others all melted away.
    Carrie tilted her chin in