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"By handling the situation myself. I've already set things in motion. If everything goes according to plan, we might luck out. You just deal with those detectives tomorrow. Stick to the same story I gave them, about how we barely know each other."
"What about my alibi for the night Carson was shot?"
"Say you were at the movies—alone. Find out what was playing that night, in case they ask. Just stay cool. They have no reason to suspect you. Not unless you give them one."
"Don't worry," Karen assured him. "I won't."
"Good." Stan walked over to the window, stared out into the night sky. "If we can get past this one, maybe we can still save our asses."
CHAPTER 26
11:55 P.M.
341 West 76th Street
The flames in the fireplace burned steadily, casting a warm, orange glow through the downstairs sitting room. The intimate light and occasional crackle set a romantic atmosphere for the room's two occupants, who were draped across the shag rug, enjoying their dinner as they stretched out, naked, beneath two oversize blankets.
"M-m-m." With an appreciative sigh, Sabrina swallowed another bite of linguini in white clam sauce. "Carson was wrong. This is definitely Zagat's material."
Dylan chuckled, lifting the glass of sauvignon blanc to Sabrina's lips and holding it while she took a sip. "It's the wine. It heightens the taste buds."
"Uh-uh." She gave an emphatic shake of her head. "If anything heightened my senses tonight, it was you. An amazing lawyer, lover, and cook. I'm beyond impressed." Her eyes twinkled. "Do you plan to cook all our meals naked?"
"That depends. Do you plan to eat them all naked? If so, count me in."
Sabrina's lips curved. "And here Carson said you could do better than having me camp out on the rug. I'll have to tell him he was wrong."
"We used the sofa, too," Dylan reminded her. "And later, I have plans for the bed, and the Jacuzzi, and that great recliner I was telling you about. What can I say? I'm a creative guy."
"You're an energetic guy," Sabrina said, with a half-groan. "I'm not sure I have your strength."
"I'll renew you." His fingers traced her spine, caressing lightly.
Sabrina's eyes slid shut. "Dylan, we have to get some sleep. Tomorrow's a workday—my first as president of Ruisseau. How do you think the troops will react to my napping at my desk? I doubt it'll win them over."
"They're already won over." His lips brushed her shoulder. "You knocked their socks off today."
That reminded Sabrina of something she'd better share with Dylan, although she wasn't sure how he was going to take it. "Speaking of the troops, I think you ought to know that, super-discreet or not, you and I are a known item. Apparently, everyone in the office knows we're involved. Stan as much as told me so."
"Of course they do." Dylan gave an offhanded shrug. "I'm sure they figured it out the first time they noticed me undressing you with my eyes. They're a shrewd bunch. They're also a caring bunch. My guess is, they're cheering us on." He tipped up her chin, rubbed his lips lightly against hers. "So am I."
"Me, too." Sabrina gave another contented sigh. "I must say, this was a wonderful end to a turbulent day."
"The day's not over," Dylan corrected.
"U-m-m, I forgot. The Jacuzzi, the recliner, the bed.. ,"
"Well, yeah, there's that." Dylan gave her that bone-melting grin of his. "But we also have plans to make. Like, when am I meeting your mother? When are we breaking our news to Carson? And, most important of all, when am I slipping a wedding band on that beautiful ring finger?"
"Wedding band?" Sabrina arched a brow. "Now wait just a minute, buster. You're not getting out of an engagement ring. Now that I've shocked myself by falling in love and wanting to get married, I'm not skipping any of the steps along the way."
"There's not a chance I'd let that happen. I've been a renegade all my life. Not this time. This time I want to enjoy every traditional, sentimental ritual there is" Dylan's fingers threaded through her hair. "Need I remind you that Ruisseau is practically across the street from Tiffany's? I planned—with your permission, of course— to take you there tomorrow at lunchtime. We'll pick out an engagement ring and a set of matching wedding bands together. Then, I'll get down on one knee right in the middle of Fifth Avenue, and ask for your hand. How's that?"
Sabrina's lips twitched. "The part about the rings is perfect. As for the proposal, I suggest we move it to Central Park, or at least to the sidewalk on Fifth Avenue. New York motorists aren't the romantic types. They'll mow you down like a blade of grass."
"Good point. Okay then, either the sidewalk or the park, depending on how patient I'm feeling."
"You're never patient."
