The Road To Love: Love by Degree / The Rain Sparrow. Debbie Macomber

beaded bag. “Good night, guys, and don’t wait up.”

      “Right.” Monte raised his index finger. “We won’t wait up.”

      Derek took a step forward. “Should I say anything to someone...anyone...in case either of you gets a phone call?”

      “Try hello,” Reed answered, shaking his head.

      “Right.” Derek stuck his hand in his jeans pocket. “Have a good time.”

      “We intend to.”

      Ellen managed to hold back her laughter until they were on the front porch. But when the door clicked shut the giggles escaped and she pressed a hand to her mouth. “Derek thought he was going to say something.”

      “Then he realized he wasn’t,” Reed finished for her, chuckling. His hand at her elbow guided her down the steps. “They’re right about one thing. You do look gorgeous.”

      “Thank you, but I hadn’t expected it to be such a shock.”

      “The problem is, the boys are used to seeing you as a substitute mother. It’s suddenly dawned on them what an attractive woman you are.”

      “And how was it you noticed?”

      “The day I arrived and found you in my kitchen wearing only a bra, I knew.”

      “I was wearing more than that,” she argued.

      “Maybe, but at the time that was all I saw.” He stroked her cheek with the tip of his finger, then tucked her arm in his.

      Ellen felt a warm contentment as Reed led her to the sports car. This was the first time she’d been inside, and the significance of that seemed unmistakable. She sensed that somewhere in the past two weeks Reed had made an unconscious decision about their relationship. Maybe she was being silly in judging the strength of their bond by what car he chose to drive. And maybe not. Reed was escorting her to this party in his Porsche because he viewed her in a new light. He saw her now as a beautiful, alluring woman—no longer as the college student who seemed capable of mastering everything but algebra.

      The Space Needle came into view as Reed pulled onto Denny Street. The world-famous Needle, which had been built for the 1962 World’s Fair, rose 605 feet above the Seattle skyline. Ellen had taken the trip up to the observation deck only once and she’d been thrilled at the unobstructed view of the Olympic and Cascade mountain ranges. Looking out at the unspoiled beauty of Puget Sound, she’d understood immediately why Seattle was described as one of the world’s most livable cities.

      For this evening, Reed explained, his office had booked the convention rooms on the hundred-foot level of the Needle. The banquet facilities had been an addition, and Ellen wondered what sort of view would be available.

      As Reed stopped in front of the Needle, a valet appeared, opening Ellen’s door and offering her his gloved hand. She climbed as gracefully as she could from the low-built vehicle. Her smile felt a little strained, and she took a deep breath to dispel the gathering tension. She wanted everything about the evening to be perfect; she longed for Reed to be proud of her, to feel that she belonged in his life—and in his world.

      Her curiosity about the view was answered as soon as they stepped from the elevator into the large room. She glanced at the darkened sky that resembled folds of black velvet, sprinkled with glittering gems. When she had a chance she’d walk over toward the windows. For now, she was more concerned with fitting into Reed’s circle and being accepted by his friends and colleagues.

      Bracing herself for the inevitable round of introductions, she scanned the crowd for the man she’d seen outside the cinema. He didn’t seem to be at the party and Ellen breathed easier. If Dailey was there, he would surely make a comment about seeing her with Reed that night, and she wouldn’t know how to respond.

      As they made their way through the large room, several people called out to Reed. When he introduced Ellen, two or three of them appeared to have trouble concealing their surprise that he wasn’t with Danielle. But no one mentioned Danielle and they all seemed to accept Ellen freely, although a couple of people gave her curious looks. Eventually, Ellen relaxed and smiled up at Reed.

      “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked, his voice tender.

      “Not at all.”

      “Would you like something to drink?”

      “Please.”

      “Wine okay?”

      “Of course.”

      “I’ll be right back.”

      Ellen watched Reed cross the room toward the bar. She was absurdly proud of him and made no attempt to disguise her feelings when he returned to her, carrying two glasses of white wine.

      “You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he murmured, handing her a glass.

      “Why?” she teased, her eyes sparkling. “Does it embarrass you?”

      “No. It makes me wish I could ignore everyone in this room and kiss you right this minute.” A slow, almost boyish grin spread across his features.

      “That would certainly cause quite a commotion.”

      “But not half the commotion it would cause if they knew what else I was thinking.”

      “Oh?” She hid a smile by taking another sip of wine.

      “Are we back to that word again?”

      “Just what do you have in mind?”

      He dipped his head so that he appeared to be whispering something in her ear, although actually his lips brushed her face. “I’ll show you later.”

      “I’ll be waiting.”

      They stood together, listening to the music and the laughter. Ellen found it curious that he’d introduced her to so few people and then only to those who’d approached him. But she dismissed her qualms as petty and, worse, paranoid. After all, she told herself, she was here to be with Reed, not to make small talk with his friends.

      He finished his drink and suggested another. While he returned to the bar for refills, Ellen wandered through the crowd, walking over to the windows for a glimpse of the magnificent view. But as she moved, she kept her gaze trained on Reed.

      A group of men stopped him before he could reach the bar. His head was inclined toward them, and he seemed to be giving them his rapt attention. Yet periodically his eyes would flicker through the crowd, searching for her. When he located her by the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, he smiled as though he felt relieved. With an abruptness that bordered on rudeness, he excused himself from the group and strolled in her direction.

      “I didn’t see where you’d gone.”

      “I wasn’t about to leave you,” she told him. Turning, she faced the window, watching the lights of the ferry boats gliding across the dark green waters of Puget Sound.

      His hands rested on her shoulders and Ellen leaned back against him, warmed by his nearness. “It’s lovely from up here.”

      “Exquisite,” he agreed, his mouth close to her ear. “But I’m not talking about the view.” His hands slid lazily down her arms. “Dance with me,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor.

      Ellen walked obediently into his arms, loving the feel of being close to Reed. She pressed her cheek against the smooth fabric of his jacket as they swayed gently to the slow, dreamy music.

      “I don’t normally do a lot of dancing,” he whispered.

      Ellen wouldn’t have guessed that. He moved with confident grace, and she assumed he’d escorted Danielle around a dance floor more than once. At the thought of the other woman, Ellen grew uneasy, but she forced her tense body to relax. Reed had chosen to bring her, and not Danielle, to this party. That had to mean something—something exciting.

      “Dancing was just