Remember When

Diana's grandmother, who had begun ignoring social rules at approximately the same time she attained the age of seventy, decided to ignore this one, too. She stared at Cole Harrison's back with a perplexed frown, then leaned forward in her chair and demanded of Diana in a loud stage whisper that got the attention of three people seated at the table behind her, 'Who was that man, Diana?'

Anxious to avoid a discussion that would be heard by others, Diana said hastily, 'That's Cole Harrison, Gram. You know—he's the man who donated the Klineman sculpture that you were admiring earlier.'

Rose Britton was aghast at that notion, and in her advancing years, she'd also developed a disconcerting desire to state the entire truth, regardless of the consequences. 'I did not admire it,' she protested in an indignant whisper that was overheard by two more people at the table behind her. 'I said,' she clarified, 'that it was hideous.'

She glanced at the others in an innocent invitation to argue the merits or lack thereof of the sculpture, but everyone launched into diversionary small talk to avoid doing exactly that. 'Well, it is,' she told Diana as soon as she looked her way. 'It looks like a huge pipecleaner doll!'

Diana was anxious to explain to her that Cole Harrison was the same Cole who'd worked at the Haywards' when Diana was a teenager, but she was afraid to do it now, for fear that the elderly lady might then begin reminiscing about the food they'd sent over to him and be overheard. Cole had gallantly come to her rescue tonight, and Diana was determined to protect his pride and his privacy in return.

Chapter 22

To Diana's intense relief, the minor flurry created by their late and conspicuous arrival soon died down. Waiters began serving the first course of the dinner that was included in the $1,000 cost of a ticket to the ball, and the events of the last half hour finally began to sink in.

She could hardly believe the forceful, sophisticated male in the elegant black tuxedo who'd materialized out of the shadows on the balcony was actually the same jean-clad youth who'd talked with her while he curried the Haywards' horses, and teased her while they played cards, and greedily dug into whatever food she brought along.

She reached mechanically for a crusty roll and broke it open, her hands then going still. The Cole she'd known before had always been hungry, Diana remembered fondly. A smile touched her lips—judging from the adult Cole's tall, muscular physique, he'd undoubtedly been hungry because he'd still had some growing and 'filling out' to do.

A politely insistent voice near her ear intruded on her reverie as two bottles of excellent wine appeared in her peripheral vision. 'Would you prefer red wine or white wine, miss?'

'Yes,' she murmured absently.

The confused waiter hesitated, looked helplessly at her and then at Spence, who was on her left and who came to the waiter's aid. 'Perhaps both,' Spence suggested blandly.

Another waiter followed in his wake and slid a bowl of shrimp bisque in front of her; animated conversations and bursts of laughter swirled around her, blending with the soft clink of flatware against china, but Diana noticed none of that. Cole had changed a great deal, she decided as she absently spread a rosette of butter onto the roll, then laid it on the plate without touching it and reached for a glass of wine instead. She picked up the one closest to her hand, a chardonnay, smooth and mellow.

The years had not mellowed Cole, she thought a little sadly, just the opposite. As a youth, he'd had an aura of hard-bitten strength, but he'd seemed approachable and kind, even gentle at times. Now there was a cynical edge to his voice and a coldness in his eyes—she'd witnessed both when she objected to entering the ballroom with him. He was battle-hardened, toughened. But he was still kind, she reminded herself. When the photographer had appeared on the balcony, he was kind enough to rush to her rescue. He was also quick enough and smart enough to instantly devise a plan that turned a negative situation into one that would work in her favor. To accomplish that, he had kissed her.

Diana's hand shook as she reached for her wineglass again and took another hasty swallow. She should never have let that happen! What a foolish, uncharacteristically impulsive thing for her to do. And what a kiss!

Soft at first... awkward for her as she came into unexpected closeness with the legs and chest and mouth of a stranger— an old friend, whose mouth had covered hers with casual expertise and then with teasing insistence... and then with increasing demand. He'd lifted his head, ended the kiss, stared into her eyes... and then he'd kissed her again... almost reluctantly, and then almost... hungrily.

Diana's cheeks reddened with embarrassed heat, and she drained the rest of the chardonnay, trying to steady her nerves. She shouldn't have let that second kiss happen. Other women got jilted, and they didn't throw themselves into the arms of the first available man who offered sympathy.

Or did they?

Now that she thought about it, maybe they did!

In fact, now that she thought about it, she realized she was overreacting to everything and making far too much out of a simple, meaningless kiss enacted purely for the benefit of a spying reporter. While she was obsessing on a kiss, Cole had probably forgotten the entire trivial incident. For all she knew, he had escorted a woman to the ball who was with him now. Either way, he was undoubtedly being showered with attention at the head table and having a perfectly pleasant time.

She tried to resist the impulse to find out for herself and failed. Cole's table was two rows in front of Diana's and a little to the left, directly in front of the auctioneer's podium, which was on a raised platform. By looking slightly to the left or the right, she could see between the shoulders of the group at the next table and see most of the people at Cole's. Casually, she lifted her glass to her lips and looked to the right. The head table was larger and seated more people, two of whom made Diana's heart sink the instant she saw them.

Franklin Mitchell was the chairman of this year's ball, and he and his wife were naturally seated at the head table—but so was their son, Peter, and his wife, Haley, formerly Haley Vincennes. The other couple were friends of Peter and Haley's. The elderly woman with blue-tinted white hair, with her back to Diana, was undoubtedly Mrs. Canfield, whose ancestors had founded the White Orchid Ball. The balding man beside her had to be her son Delbert, a middle-aged bachelor.

Franklin Mitchell said something that got a loud burst of laughter from the others at the table, and Diana shifted her gaze to the left. Conner and Missy Desmond were also at the table, and everyone was laughing except— Diana's searching gaze collided with a pair of piercing gray eyes that locked on to hers, refusing to break the glance. Clearly disinterested in both his meal and the people at his table, he was leaning back in his chair, openly watching her, his expression strangely speculative.

Diana couldn't imagine why he was looking at her that way, but a polite smile seemed appropriate and she gave him one.

He answered with a slow nod and a smile that was as warm as it was bold, but what disturbed Diana was the odd, almost calculating look in his eyes.

Hastily, she yanked her gaze from his and joined the conversation at her own table, but her mind was on Haley Mitchell and what she was likely to say to Cole if she'd seen him arrive with Diana. Haley thrived on vicious gossip; she created it and then used it like a weapon against anyone she didn't like, and there were many she didn't like—nearly all of them women.

She particularly despised Diana because one evening several years earlier, when Peter was still single and particularly drunk, he'd stood up during a wedding reception where he was a groomsman and Diana was a bridesmaid, and instead of proposing a toast to the bride and groom, which everyone thought he was going to do, he proposed marriage to Diana. She had tried to pass it off as a joke, and everyone else let it go at that—except Peter himself and Haley, who'd been in love with him for years.

He'd married Haley soon after that, but Haley never forgot that she was Peter's second choice, and Peter never forgot that Diana had turned him down. Haley despised Diana with a jealous loathing that seemed to grow stronger with each year, as did the rumors that Haley's marriage was in trouble. Diana knew beyond a doubt that if Haley imagined there was anything between Cole and Diana, she'd launch a hate campaign right there at the