she said when the pain in her throat permitted her to speak. She met her date’s eyes squarely, partly so she wouldn’t keep following Marc’s progress through the room, partly in an attempt to convey her apology, her sincere regret that she was forced to refuse him and ruin an evening he’d been looking forward to. If only he had listened to her earlier in the week and not insisted on her keeping this date. “You already know what my answer is going to be, Lorne. I can’t tell you how sorry I am, but—” “Stop.” His hand rose to silence her. His jaw jutted stubbornly. “I will not take you home now. Do you want everyone to think we’ve had a fight? We haven’t even had dinner yet, and I paid good money for the tickets, remember!” She sighed. She did know. That had been his original argument for getting her there, after all. Did he think her memory so poor? “I don’t see why I should miss a meal I’ve already paid for just because you’re playing hard to get,”
