Starlight by Debbie Macomber

the more reason,” she said, laughing lightly.
    “I don’t suppose this decision has anything to do with the fact that we met December the ninth?”
    “Absolutely nothing,” she lied smoothly, then giggled because it was so obvious she was lying. She should have known better than to try to outwit Rand. He was too perceptive, too astute.
    He gave her a full smile that did crazy things to her heartbeat. “I knew you’d come up with some connection to our first meeting.”
    Suddenly, they were both quiet, each entangled in the memories of that night. Perhaps it was a time Rand would as soon forget. Perhaps it was even an embarrassment to him now. But for Karen it was more an assignment with destiny. She smiled secretly toherself; Rand would laugh if he could hear her thoughts. Yet more and more she had come to think of their meeting as preordained and as irrevocable as uttered vows.
    Rand spoke first. “I think Number Nine, although a bit unusual, will be a fine name.”
    They talked for a while longer, laughing over the antics of James and Carter with the comfortable ease of friends. More than once Karen found herself thinking that Rand would make a wonderful father. Picturing Rand with children did funny things to her stomach. The mental image of him holding a child, their child, was more intoxicating than any wine. Karen quickly reined in her imagination. Taking their relationship any further than the moment was a dangerous pitfall she was going to avoid.
    The taxi delivered them to the Elks Lodge, where the reception was being held. With Rand’s arm placed gently around her waist, they entered the crowded room. At Rand’s request, Karen signed the guest book for them both.
    Seeing so many people put Karen on edge; meeting a roomful of strangers wasn’t her idea of a romantic evening.
    “Why so tense?” Rand whispered after the first couple of introductions.
    “I’m sorry,” she said, surprised at how tight her voice sounded. “I’m a little ill at ease when I don’t know anyone. Does it show that much?”
    “Only to me.” A suggestion of a smile touched his eyes, as if he were suddenly aware he’d almost admitted his listening ability was more astute than others. “I’m not particularly fond of these affairs myself.”
    “Rand!” A tall, attractive blonde propelled her way through several people to greet him with an affectionate hug. “You made it, after all.”
    Hastily, Karen removed her hand from Rand’s arm as the woman stepped forward.
    “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” she questioned, eyeing Karen resentfully. She was older than Karen, perhaps thirty, and carried herself proudly, confidently. Her metallic-blue eyes were piercing.
    “Cora”—Rand’s voice was warm and friendly—“I’d like you to meet Karen McAlister. Karen, this is Cora Dibner.”
    “Pleased, I’m sure,” Cora said, but her look belied any pleasure.
    Karen’s heart beat painfully; she had hoped to be friends with Rand’s associate. He spoke of Cora so often—often enough for her to suspect their relationship went beyond business interests. Now that they’d met, there was no denying the jealousy in Cora’s eyes. Or that she was in love with Rand.
    “I’m pleased, too.” Karen smiled in return and nodded, as worthy opponents oftendo when facing each other.
    A glimmer of respect entered Cora’s eyes. “Are you one of Rand’s students?” Her voice remained friendly, but the whiplike flicker of her gaze cut into Karen.
    Involuntarily, Karen stiffened. This woman was after blood in their first round. Cora must have known Rand was uneasy with their age difference. She laughed lightly, giving the impression such a question was ridiculous.
    “Hardly. Are you?”
    “You wouldn’t believe the things he’s taught me.”
    The mocking words hit Karen with the impact of a hammer pounding a nail. Were Rand and Cora lovers? A sickening knot twisted her stomach until she thought she might be sick.
    Rand