“I'm liking this dress more and more,” he said thickly. Lifting one of her arms, he studied the structure of the dress, which had been designed with a man's appreciation in mind. The side was open to about two inches above the waist, leaving the tender underside of her arm and torso bare.
“I—I couldn't wear a bra with it,” she said shakily. She had worn the dress deliberately to entice him, of course, but she had not planned her own reaction to his appreciation. She'd intended for Josh to learn at some point in the evening how her dress was fashioned, but she hadn't planned on its being this early, or on his taking such keen advantage.
“I can see that,” he said on an unsteady breath. “Better than that, I can feel it.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the palm. Murmuring against it, he said, “I love the dress, but, damn it, I'll be miserable all night. I'll want to kill any man I see glancing in your direction.”
With a possessive arm around her shoulders and a proprietary air, he escorted her the rest of the way to the main compound. They were to meet the Bishops in the most elite of Seascape's four restaurants. Terry had wisely provided eateries to suit any taste or budget, from hamburgers to Continental cuisine.
The latter restaurant was located on the second floor and provided a breathtaking view of the Atlantic at dusk. Black lacquered tables were covered with starched white cloths. The chairs were upholstered in either royal blue or burgundy velour. Crystal shimmered in the candlelight; silver place settings sparkled; a sedate sextet played soft music from a small dais rising from a parqueted dance floor.
As they entered through etched glass doors, Terry rushed forward to greet them. “Megan, you look beautiful. Josh, how do you like it? Are your rooms sufficient? Are you having a good time?”
Megan and Josh glanced at each other and burst out laughing at Terry's nervous enthusiasm. “Yes, we love Seascape. Yes, the rooms are superlative,” Josh assured him.
“And yes, we're having a good time,” Megan contributed. “But we're hungry,” she teased.
He smiled shyly. “I know I'm being ridiculous. Gayla told me as much. She says if I don't calm down she's going to lock me in our room. Come on, she's anxious to meet you.”
Gayla Bishop was as contentedly calm as her husband was harried. Perhaps her serenity had been acquired after having borne four children, Megan speculated. She would never have survived otherwise, if all the stories with which she regaled Megan were true. The plumpish woman seemed not in the least affected by the size of her bank account and looked upon Seascape as only one of her husband's many outstanding achievements. That they adored each other was obvious as they all chatted amiably and sipped drinks.
When Josh had automatically ordered Megan white wine on the rocks, she had smiled at him privately. Without the least bit of self-consciousness, he covered her hand with his and gently stroked her fingers, even as he conversed with Terry about Seascape's three golf courses.
“I was even more anxious to meet you when I heard you were coming here with Josh,” Gayla Bishop told Megan frankly. She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. “He's so damned good-looking. Of course I love my Terry to death, but I'm not blind or dead!” She laughed lightly.
“I'm here at your husband's invitation, not Josh's,” Megan clarified. “Seascape commercials are running on the television station I work for. I'm overseeing the account.”
“Oh, I understand, I understand,” Gayla said with an impish grin that told Megan she didn't understand at all. Did everyone think she was only Josh's date for the weekend? For her plan to work, they must suspect much more.
“I really think it's time someone lassoed Josh Bennett. It's time he settled down. Terry says I'm naive, but I'm so happily married I can't understand why anyone wouldn't want to be. I couldn't live alone, absolutely could not.” She covered her mouth with a hand that was heavy with diamonds. “There I go shooting off my big mouth,” she said abjectly. “I'm sorry, Megan. Terry told me your husband just dropped dead one day. You poor thing.”
The loquacious woman's apology was so apparently heartfelt that Megan didn't take offense. “It's all right. Living alone's not so bad once you get used to it.”
Gayla's brows arched expressively. “Well, if the way Josh looks at you is any sign, I'd say your days of living alone are numbered.”
“But—”
“I've been telling that man for years, ever since he visited Terry and me on the boat one summer, that he'd better watch out. ‘One day a woman is going to come along and knock you right out of your shoes.’ That's what I told him. And, honey, you're the most likely candidate I've seen.” Gayla paused to study Josh as he spoke quietly to her husband.
Megan had been rendered speechless. She didn't think it would do any good to try to set the record straight. She had the impression that once Gayla Bishop made up her mind about something, she didn't change it no matter what.
Gayla took a sip of her champagne cocktail and continued.
“I'll admit I've been worried about Josh. Ever since he broke it off with—”
“George, Ms. Wray,” Terry said, interrupting Gayla's recital just when it had commanded Megan's full attention.
The developer stood up, as did Josh, to shake hands with a man Terry introduced to Megan as one of Seascape's investors, an industrialist from Savannah. They also greeted Laura Wray, who looked stunning in a floor-length sheath of ice-blue satin. It clung to her willowy figure and accented her fair coloring. She spoke to everyone in a refined, modulated voice and tilted her head up when Josh kissed her lightly on the cheek.
“Laura, as beautiful as ever,” Megan heard him say.
“Thank you, Josh.”
After they exchanged pleasantries, the couple moved away to join a larger group at another table. Terry and Josh excused themselves to circulate around the room, Terry asking Josh nervously to accompany him on greeting his guests. “I'm terrible at remembering names,” he said, mopping his brow with a wrinkled handkerchief.
“Well, I almost got in trouble with my big trap again,” Gayla said with a gushing sigh of relief. This time she gulped down her cocktail. “I was just about to speak that woman's name, and all of a sudden, there she was!”
Megan's hand shook slightly as she brought the slender-stemmed wineglass to her lips. “Ms. Wray?” she asked on a high note.
Gayla was apparently too caught up in her own tale to notice Megan's agitation. “Yes. You knew, of course, that Josh was engaged to her.”