grunted and disengaged himself from Mary Jane. “We better not be talking sprouts and wheat germ.”
Mary Jane laughed and lightly jabbed him with her elbow. “You’re so funny.” And then she pranced on ahead of them.
Dalton frowned at Cassie. “Was that a yes or a no?”
She shrugged.
“I eat meat. I like meat.”
“Healthy doesn’t mean fanatic.” She smiled and followed Mary Jane, but tossed over her shoulder, “Don’t jump to conclusions.”
He muttered something she couldn’t hear. Didn’t want to hear. Instead, she listened to Mary Jane point out the parlor where everyone gathered before dinner.
“Cocktails are usually served around six.” She glanced at her Mickey Mouse watch. “Which is in about fifteen minutes. Perfect. You can meet everyone then.”
“You mean real cocktails?” Dalton asked with narrowed-eyed suspicion. “Not like carrot juice or anything like that?”
Mary Jane giggled and glanced at Cassie. “He’s so funny.”
Cassie couldn’t help laughing herself. She didn’t dare look at the expression on Dalton’s face, or she’d really lose it. Her nerves were taut, her emotions running high and she knew herself. She was likely to break out into hysterics.
“Over here is the dining room where you’ll have your meals, or sometimes we eat on the patio. We’ll even send you room service if there’s, you know, something special going on you’d rather not interrupt.”
“Great.” Cassie forced a smile, and refused to look at Dalton. “Can we see our room now?”
He came up alongside her and captured her hand. “Anxious, honey?”
She rolled her eyes, and realized Mary Jane saw her. “Dalton has been sleeping on the couch for the past week. I’d like to maintain that arrangement.”
Mary Jane shook her finger. “Now, now. That’s why we’re all here. To smooth out our differences.”
Cassie pursed her lips in thought, and then said, “Tell me, Mary Jane. Have you ever been married?”
The woman laughed. “You’re funny, too. Now, we’re going upstairs. Follow me.”
Dalton put his lips close to Cassie’s ear. “I guess we’re both just hilarious.”
His warm breath tickled the sensitive skin on the side of her neck and she shivered. He gripped her hand tighter. She hadn’t realized he still held it.
She pulled away, just as Mary Jane stopped midway up the stairs and turned around. “You’ll have to hurry if you want to make the cocktail hour and meet the others.”
Cassie moved ahead of Dalton. “They’ll be wearing clothes, I trust.”
Mary Jane smiled. “I promise,” she said, and resumed climbing the stairs.
Her shorts were so short they left nothing to the imagination. In fact, Cassie caught glimpses of a naked cheek, which meant Mary Jane was wearing no underwear or a thong. Dalton had the same view. She wanted to turn around to see his reaction, but she didn’t dare. He’d probably think she was jealous.
After making it up to the midpoint herself, she realized he hadn’t followed. She looked over her shoulder to find him still standing at the bottom of the stairs. Staring at her butt.
He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “I’m going to get the bags from the car and meet you up there.”
Mary Jane stood on the landing and leaned over the rail. “I’ll take care of that.”
“The bags are heavy. I’ll only be minute.”
“Well, okay…” Mary Jane made a face. “But leave the keys in the car so I can move it to the garage later.”
He shook his head. “Nobody drives that baby but me.”
Mary Jane gave him one of her toothy grins. “I’ll only be behind the wheel for a minute. The garages are directly in back.”
“Then I’ll just go ahead and do it myself before I bring in the bags.” Dalton dug the keys out of his pocket. “I’ll find you.”
Clearly displeased, Mary Jane watched Dalton retrace their steps. With the sunny disposition gone, she looked a little hard, older, too. She realized Cassie was staring at her and she immediately flashed a smile.
“He’s very stubborn,” Cassie said as she met her on the landing. “That’s why we have so many problems.”
“Well, that’s exactly what you’re here for. Hopefully, by the end of the week, you’ll have a better understanding of each other. Robert, uh, Mr. Blankenship is very good at pinpointing problem areas in the marriage.”
“Hell, I can do that. I knew this trip was a waste of time. Maybe I ought to tell Dalton to leave those bags right in the car.” Cassie folded her arms across her chest and pretended to look out the window for Dalton. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched Mary Jane’s expression get ugly. Oh, she was in on Bask’s scheme, all right.
“Now, you’re being hasty. Isn’t saving your marriage worth one week of your time?” She was all smiles again when Cassie turned to her.
“I suppose.” Cassie sighed in her best put-upon wife imitation. “Let’s go see our room.”
“Right this way.” Mary Jane threw one final look toward the front door and then led Cassie down to the end of the hall. “You have a corner room with a view of the pool and gardens,” she said, opening the door. “It’s the best one, in my opinion.”
She stood aside while Cassie preceded her. The room was large, really large, with lots of windows and French doors that led to a verandah. Two large vases of fresh flowers had been set out on the antique mahogany desk nestled in the corner of the sitting area, and the white vanity table and chair close to the window. The queen-size sleigh bed was antique, as were the cherry nightstands and armoire.
The burgundy and cream décor was plush and gorgeous, like a suite at the Ritz, and Cassie caught herself just in time. Her mouth had nearly dropped open. But she was supposed to be rich. This should be no big deal to her.
She tried to look bored. “Don’t we have a small fridge or something to keep bottled water cold?”
“Right here.” She went to the corner and pulled back a folding panel that looked to be made of raw silk. “You have an entire wet bar, fully stocked.”
“Fine.” Cassie ducked her head into the bathroom. Under a skylight was an enormous tub surrounded by a blue marble floor.
Mary Jane came up behind her. “The tub is also a whirlpool bath. And of course there’s a glass shower stall over there.”
“Very nice.” Cassie fingered the emerald green velour towels and asked casually, “Does Mr. Blankenship own this house?”
“He
