Starlight by Debbie Macomber Page A

cleared his throat in embarrassment. “Yes … well, I think it’s probably time Karen and I went through the reception line. If you’ll excuse us, Cora.”
    “Of course.” Cora’s smile, directed at Karen, was full of malice. “Nice meeting you,
Carol
.” She purposely used the wrong name as a means of telling Karen she wasn’t worried. Her grip on Rand was secure; she had nothing to fear from Karen.
    “You, too,
Nora
,” Karen said in kind, her eyes narrowing. “I hope we meet again.”
    Rand frowned. “Cora seems to be out of sorts tonight.” He dismissed his associate’s behavior. Karen wanted to cry because making excuses for Cora’s behavior showed he cared.
    “We all have off days.” She swallowed tightly. “Would you mind if we had something to drink before going through the reception line?”
    “I think we could both use something,” Rand said.
    Two glasses of champagne clouded the encounter with Cora. Another glass and Karen saw the whole incident as comical. Rand was distracted by friends and didn’t notice how many times her glass was refilled. But Karen, held protectively to his side, was always introduced and included in the conversation. Another half-glass and her former nervousness dissipated; her smile was friendly, her laughter quick, and her eyes sparkled.
    “We better do the honors while we can,” Rand suggested after a while. “Are there many people left in the reception line?”
    “Hardly any,” she told him, and had the crazy desire to giggle. Rand honestly believed people really listened. She’d show him.
    Rand introduced her to the first person in the reception line, one of the ushers, a brother-in-law of the groom’s. Bravely, Karen looked him directly in the eye and smiledsweetly. “I’m very pleased to meet you,” she said, shaking his hand. Although her eyes never left his face, she added impishly, “The elephants are loose.”
    Rand’s arm stiffened its hold around her waist, biting into her tender flesh.
    “How do you do?” the usher responded politely to her warm smile. “I’m so glad you could come.”
    “I am, too.” Her eyes sparked with mischief. “I am, too,” she repeated.
    Before proceeding farther, Rand’s low voice growled in warning, “Karen, what are you doing?”
    She laughed saucily. “I thought you said people listen,” she whispered back. “I’m just proving a point.”
    Undaunted by Rand’s tight grip around her waist, she made the same obscure announcement to the next member of the wedding party. Again, nothing was said or noticed. Apparently, wild elephants on the loose were not of interest to the entire wedding party. The only one to add anything to Karen’s ridiculous statement was the last woman in the line, who proudly boasted she was the one who introduced the wedding couple.
    They’d gone no more than three paces from the line, just out of earshot, when Rand demanded in a low snarl, “Just how many glasses of champagne have you had?”
    Karen had to stop abruptly in order to think, causing Rand to bump into her. She would have stumbled forward if not for his grip. “Three.” She hiccupped loudly. “Oops, sorry. No, I think it was four.”
Could it have been five?
she mused; she’d lost count.
    “I’m getting you out of here.” The words were muted, and for a moment Karen wondered if she’d heard him correctly.
    “Gee, I was just beginning to have some fun.” She hiccupped again.
    “Karen, don’t say another word,” he warned.
    Her lips moved to protest, but somehow the words couldn’t get past her tongue.
    “Promise me you won’t say a word to anyone.”
    She hiccupped again. “How can I promise you that when I’m not supposed to talk?” She shot a quick glance at Rand. Why was he so interested in leaving all of a sudden?
    The cold air outside the lodge stunned Karen, although she felt flushed and warm. The street was deserted, the sidewalk bathed in shimmering moonlight. It reminded Karen of the