“A little big,” Marie observed, handing over the various pieces of the naughty ensemble, “but probably more comfortable this way.”
Janine held up the lingerie, incongruous against her long, shapeless navy dress. A woman of twenty-nine had needs, after all.
“You’re going to rock his world,” Marie said over her shoulder.
She took her vitamins every day, she stayed fit, she read Cosmo…she could do this. Besides, she was a summer—pink was on her palette. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
Marie clapped her hands. “What a story for me to tell your daughter.”
“Not until she’s fifty, or I’m dead, whichever comes first.”
MINUTES LATER, they were still struggling to get all the pieces in place. Marie grunted behind her and jerked the bustier tighter. “Inhale and hold it.”
“I thought you said this was a little big,” Janine gasped, afraid to exhale. “I think you detached a rib.”
“For Steve’s sake, I hope this thing is easier to remove than it is to get on.” With a final yank, Marie straightened and backed away. “Where are those black heels you bought when we were at the mall a few months ago?” She walked to the closet.
“You mean those shoes you made me buy because they were such a great deal but they weren’t such a great deal because I’ve never worn them?”
“Yeah.”
“On the bottom shelf in the orange box.”
Marie went to the closet, and emerged, triumphant. After Janine stepped into the shoes, she stared in the full-length mirror at the pink-and-black creation: the boned pink satin bustier pushed her breasts to incredible heights and left her shoulders bare above black ruffly trim. Black laces crisscrossed her back, and Marie had tied them off with a large bow at the top. The matching panties were cut high on the legs, veeing below her navel, and trimmed with more scratchy lace. The black garter belts connecting the bottom of the bustier with the top of her thigh-high black hose were drawn so tight, she was sure if they popped, she’d be maimed for life. “If I had a feather boa, I could walk onto the set of Gunsmoke.”
Behind her, Marie laughed. “You look awesome! You hide that fab figure of yours. Believe me, Steve won’t know what hit him. You two will be so exhausted after tonight, you’ll have to postpone the wedding.”
Maybe it was the effects of the wine, but she had to admit she was feeling pretty sexy, albeit a little shaky, in her stiletto heels. “But what will I do?”
“I’ll drop you off at the resort, and you can surprise him.”
She looked down. “I’ll be arrested if I walk into the hotel like this.”
Her sister went back to the closet and returned carrying a black all-weather coat. “Here.”
Janine shrugged into the coat and belted it.
“See—perfectly innocent,” Marie said. “No one will ever know that beneath the coat is a red-hot siren getting ready to sound.”
“But what will I do for clothes tomorrow?”
“Are you serious? You two won’t leave that room. Don’t worry, I’ll come early and bring your outfit for the rehearsal dinner. Now let’s get going before you lose your nerve.”
Janine grabbed Marie’s arm. “I think I’d better call him first.”
“But this is supposed to be a surprise!”
“But what if he isn’t there? I mean, what if the guys stay out late?” She fished a thick phone book from a deep drawer in the nightstand.
Marie checked her watch. “It’s after midnight, and it’ll take us thirty minutes to get to the resort.”
“But if they went out, the bars are still open.”
Her sister sighed. “Okay, but no talking—if he answers, just hang up.”
“Agreed,” she said, dialing. An operator answered after a few rings and transferred her to Steve’s room. When the phone started ringing, for the briefest second she hoped he wouldn’t answer, to let her off the hook. She was a little tipsy, after all, and things would most likely make sense again in the morning. Their relationship was strong and their sex life would probably be great after they were married.
But on the third ring, he picked up the phone. “Hello?” he mumbled, obviously roused from sleep.
A thrill skittered through her at the sound of his smoky voice. He wasn’t out at the strip clubs with the guys after all—not that she’d been worried.
“Hello?” he repeated.
She smiled into the phone, then hung up quietly, considerably cheered and suddenly anticipating her little adventure. They would make love all night, and in the morning she would laugh at her fears. She stood and swung her purse over her shoulder, then grinned at Marie. “Let’s go.”
But while climbing into her sister’s car—she practically had to lie down to keep the boned bustier from piercing her—she did have one last thought. “Marie, what if this stunt doesn’t work?”
Her sister started the engine and flashed her a smile in the dark. “Whatever happens, Janine, this night could determine the direction of the rest of your life.”
DEREK STILLMAN MUMBLED a curse and rolled over to replace the handset. He missed the receiver and the phone thudded to the floor, but his head ached so much he didn’t move to replace it. Just his luck that he’d finally gotten to sleep and someone had called to wake him and breathe into the receiver. He lay staring at the ceiling, wishing, not for the first time, he were still in Kentucky. There was something about feeling like hell that made a person homesick, especially when he hadn’t wanted to make the trip to Atlanta in the first place.
The caller had probably been Steve, he thought. Maybe checking in to see how he was feeling. A second later he changed his mind—his buddy was too wrapped up in enjoying a last night of freedom to be concerned about him. He sneezed, then fisted his hands against the mattress. Confound his brother, Jack! In college Jack had been closer to Steve than he, but since Jack had dropped out of sight for the past couple of months, Derek had felt obligated to stand in as best man when Steve had asked him. Once again, he was left to pick up his younger brother’s slack.
He inhaled cautiously because his head felt close to bursting. He’d obviously picked up a bug while traveling, which only added insult to injury. On top of everything else, the timing to be away from the advertising firm couldn’t be worse—he was vying for the business of a client large enough to swing the company well into the black, but he needed an innovative campaign for their product, and soon. If ever he could use Jack, it was now, since he’d always been the more creative one. Derek was certain their father had established the Stillman & Sons Agency with the thought in mind to try to keep Jack busy and out of trouble, but so far, the plan had failed.
Hot and irritable, Derek swung his legs over the side of the bed and felt his way toward the bathroom for a glass of water. His throat was so parched, he could
