Reese: The Untamed. Susan Connell

would be speechless with embarrassment. Perhaps it was his humor or the relaxed way his hand rested on her hip, but his very nearness reassured her. Or did it? Perhaps she was slipping into her role more easily than she ever thought she could.

      “Isabella. Duncan. This is Beth Langdon.”

      “Ah, this must be your misery lady,” Isabella said, her face lighting as she came toward the car.

      Duncan leaned into the car and in a stage whisper announced, “I think she means mystery.”

      “Yes, of course that is what I meant,” she said. “So you must tell me, Reese. Have you solved her mystery?”

      “I’m working on it, Isabella,” he said, arching his brow when Beth turned his way again. He shook his finger. “Be warned, mon ange polisson, Duncan doesn’t pay Isabella those exorbitant fees because she backs off.”

      “I see,” Beth said, nodding. “Well, there’s really no mystery. I was having some fun with Reese and I think he was having some fun with me. Of course, once I realized that he’d seen my entire collection of scarves and sunglasses, I decided to step up to the roulette table and, uh…start the ball rolling on our introduction.”

      Both men gave a friendly duet of loud groaning.

      “So now there is no mystery? And I don’t know why this is funny. I am disappointed,” Isabella said, with a teasing pout.

      “I’m not,” Reese said, giving Beth a hot, secret look before turning to his friends. “Well, have you two turned into voyeurs or are we late?”

      “None of your business and you’re actually early. But we do have a problem,” Duncan said, pointing over his shoulder to the fish mosaic decorating the entrance to the restaurant. “Isabella’s just informed me she’s allergic to seafood.”

      “Yes. Please forgive me for ruining this evening,” Isabella said. “But I do not wish to…” Grimacing, she made a circle with her outstretched arms. “How do you say it? Blow up like a balloon and die.”

      “Isabella, what creative imagery! You must remember to tell your English teacher,” Duncan said. His dramatic delivery had the dark-haired woman frowning suspiciously, until all four of them were laughing.

      Reese looked at the couple beside his car and then at Beth as he gave her hip a secret squeeze. “Let’s forget about trying to book another restaurant reservation and order in at my place. We’ll catch the fireworks from the balcony.”

      “Sounds good to me,” Duncan said, holding up both hands, “but never mind about calling in an order. We’ll pick up something at Le Mah-Jong on the way. Meanwhile you and Beth can work on untangling yourselves. By the way, friend, Isabella and I expect a bottle of Château Beaumont’s finest with dinner tonight.”

      As the two men staged a loud and good-tempered debate about what vintage would go best with beef and snow peas, Beth shared a smile with Isabella. The down-to-earth manner of Reese’s smart-set friends had been a pleasant surprise and she began imagining the rest of the evening with them. With her next thought, she looked away. Guilt began picking at her insides. How quickly their smiles would disappear if they knew what she was up to with their friend. She shifted in Reese’s lap. This cozy moment had to end. She had more important things to do than make memories that would one day plague her with shame.