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Shifting his forearm away from his eyes, Carson gazed suspiciously at Dylan. "How come you're dealing with this so well? When we first started with this Wellington kook, you were bitching up a storm. Now suddenly, you're all sweetness and light. Why?"
Dylan tugged Sabrina to her feet, wrapped an arm around her waist. "Because then it was January. Now it's April. I'm marrying your daughter on June 30th, which is just a few months away. After that, I'm taking her to a beautiful, private villa in Tuscany where we'll be totally alone for two weeks, and where the aura will be better than anything Lilah Wellington can create at the Waldorf or anywhere else. So I can afford to be tolerant." He paused, winking at Sabrina before he added, "You know, Carson, you can afford to be tolerant, too."
Carson arched a brow. "Yeah? How do you figure that?"
"Because Tuscany's a beautiful and romantic place. And because Sabrina and I will be there at just the right time."
"You lost me." Carson glanced at Gloria, who had started to smile—a smile that broadened as she exchanged a look with Sabrina. "You obviously know what Dylan's talking about," he observed.
"I guessed. And I'm thrilled. You will be, too. Thrilled enough to jump through hoops for Lilah Wellington."
He snorted. "Don't hold your breath. Nothing could get me to do that."
A dubious shrug. "If you say so."
"Okay, I'll bite." Carson eyed Dylan. "What do you mean you'll be in Tuscany at just the right time?"
"We're arriving in Italy on July 2nd," Dylan explained. "That's six and a half months after your transplant surgery. Which is two weeks after the go-ahead date we got from Sabrina's nephrologist, her surgeon, and her OB/GYN."
"Dylan's right, Carson," Sabrina concurred with a teasing grin. "So if this wedding goes off smoothly, and my new husband and I are feeling very relaxed and very adventurous on our honeymoon—well, who knows? My mother might be able to start on that line of designer baby booties right away, with us as her first customers."
Carson sucked in his breath, jerking to an upright position. "Whose idea was the milk chocolate, anyway?" he barked, snatching the paperwork from Sabrina's hand and poring over it. "Dark chocolate's richer, more elegant. It's definitely got an aura. This Wellington woman knows what she's talking about." His head snapped up, and he gazed from Sabrina to Dylan to Gloria, scowling at their three smiling faces. "What's wrong with all of you? Stop grinning like fools. We've got a wedding to plan."
