She lifted her face for a his kiss.
“Yee-ha!” He reached down, grabbed one end of her belt, and jerked it off so her robe fell open.
“Jase!” She quickly clutched the edges of the robe together, more embarrassed that she was wearing plain white cotton panties, a leftover from her pre-Dave days, than if she hadn’t been wearing anything at all.
He shook his head in disappointment. “We’ll have to get rid of those undies after we eat.”
Before she could react, he was on his way up the stairs.
That was her cue. Now to retrieve the gourmet dinners from the freezer and stick them into the preheated oven. And she’d better check to be sure the dining room was cool enough that she could turn off the noisy air conditioner. With the oven timer set and her clothes laid out, she could take her time getting ready, although it was vital to make it down to the dining room before Jase did.
The eyes of the four Kinkaid sisters sparkled with interest as she ascended the stairs. Laurel grinned back at them. She must find out more about her great-aunts sometime. Pen Swaim would probably have the lowdown on them—he knew everything about the families of everybody else in Bosque Bend. His parents, Baylor professors, had retired to the castle on the corner when Laurel was a child, and after they died, Pendleton inherited the house and the copious research his father had compiled on the town’s history.
Sitting down at her dressing table, she opened the wide center drawer and selected her makeup—a light base, smoky eye shadow, mascara, and blush. Her lipstick would be a vibrant red to match her gown. Next came the gold earrings—heirlooms, like almost everything else she owned. She checked out the Spanish-style dress. A winning combination.
She draped her robe over the back of the chair and picked up the jumble of scarlet and black spread out on the bed. Off the hanger, the dress looked shapeless and bulky, but it was actually the sexiest thing she’d ever owned. Also one of the most uncomfortable. The first time she’d worn it to a formal tie event with Dave, she thought she was going to die. Every breath was a Herculean labor against the ever-tightening black bustier—but, with any luck, she wouldn’t have it on for very long.
She picked up the boned corset, which boosted her breasts to heights previously unknown. It attached to a black underskirt of starched tulle. Over the black went the scarlet, which clung on top and swelled out below.
She wished she didn’t have to wear the bustier, but otherwise…
Otherwise?
Otherwise the scarlet plunged into free fall between her breasts and dipped four inches below her waist in back. She held the sleek, soft dress fabric her cheek. Mmmm. It was heaven to touch. Maybe…did she dare?
Slipping the scarlet over her head, she slithered across to the standing mirror—what else could one do in a dress like this but slither? The fabric clung to her like a second skin, the skirt draping and redraping against her each time she moved. Her mother’s voice protested dimly in the background, but the image in the cheval mirror drowned her out.
She looked hot. Not only hot, but indecent.
Good. She struck a pose and ran her hand down her hip and discovered a panty line. She’d have to change to hose.
Or…
She slid off her panties and studied herself in the mirror again. No panty line, but her breasts were peaking from the friction of the fabric across them.
So much the better.
Before she could censor herself, she slipped into black stilettos to compensate for the length the dress had gained from the loss of the stiff tulle, rechecked the clock on her dressing table, and headed out the door. Now she was ready for their “special evening.”
Jase wasn’t downstairs yet, which meant she could set out the dinner without him being any the wiser about her nonexistent cooking skills. The situation was ridiculous, but Lolly had established expectations, and she was just too proud to admit that she was thirty-one years old and didn’t know how to cook.
She removed the dinners from the oven and distributed the food to the two glass plates, giving Jase the lion’s share of the shrimp. The scarlet fabric shifted wickedly against her bare skin as she carried the plates into the dining room. Would Jase be able to tell she didn’t have anything on under it?
She hoped so.
Hearing him on the stairs, she posed beside the table with her shoulders back, one hand reaching down to rest on the top of a chair.
He stopped just inside the room, his mouth dropping open as he focused in on the dip between her breasts. Raising his gaze to her face, he cocked a wicked eyebrow and gave her The Smile.
“Special, huh?” His coal-black eyes burned with a hunger that went beyond food.