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in my arms.”
    “That’s because you’d just gotten done flipping Jackie over your arm. Her gown and veil alone probably weigh more than me. But I’m sorry, I keep interrupting you. What are you trying to tell me? What are you sorry about?”
    It wasn’t going to work. The moment the truth was out, she was going to hit him, kick him, or just burst into tears and run away. He couldn’t let her run away, even if he deserved the hit or the kick. What he had to do now was soften her up, make her more willing to listen to him. Cloud her judgment a little, until he could make her understand.
    “I’m sorry I didn’t kiss you twice,” he heard himself say. and the next thing he knew he’d gathered Holly into his arms, and his mouth was on hers.
    He could sense when she went up on her tiptoes in order to be able to slide her arms around his neck, and he bowed his body slightly that he could feel the length of her pressed more closely to his body. She was little, yes, but she was all woman. Soft, and curvy, and with lips that knew how to be kissed, how to kiss in return.
    Someone exiting the hotel, dragging a large piece of pull-along luggage, bumped heavily against Colin’s leg, and the next thing he knew Holly was standing in front of him, her eyes sp arkling, her cheeks flushed. “ I have to go in now,” she said, then pulled a card from her purse and handed it to him. “Here. I’m breaking my own rule. Call me, please?”
    “But wait—” Colin called out as she turned and actually began to run into the hotel. “I still haven’t told you—oh, damn it!” He could see Holly overtop the dozen or more tourists trying to move themselves and t heir baggage into the hotel, all of them following a tour guide holding up a flag in order to keep the group together. The elevator door stood open, and she rushed inside. “Holly, I—”
    “Can I get you a cab, sir?” the doorman asked, and Colin glared at him.
    “No, thanks,” he said. “I’ll walk.” And then he followed the tourists into the hotel.

 
     
    Three
     
     
    H olly sat on the thick Persian carpet the day after the showing, holding young Maximillian Rafferty, II—or Max Deuce, as his father sometimes called him—and looked at her good friend and employer. “Julia, it was fantastic. We’ve got orders pouring in, the press has been very kind. I think it was the snazzy hors d’oeuvres. We served great stuff t his time, even if my own taste runs more to little hot dogs in pieces of pastry. I actually saw the reporter from Women’s Wear Daily tipping a plate of the shrimp-on-a-stick into her purse.”
    Julia laughed as she pushed a lock of her sleek burnt cinnamon hair behind one ear. “I wish I could have been there, and the littl e guy seems to be fine today, but I just couldn’t leave him yesterday after we got back from the doctor’s office. This mom stuff is all-consuming.”
    Holly looked around the room, furnished in comfortable overstuffed couches, fine antiques and a half dozen colorful infant toys. The condo was huge, two floors and magnificent. It was al so a home, a well-loved, lived- in home. “You’re doing a bang-up job, Julia. And Max is still so cockeyed over this little guy that I’m surprised he hasn’t had him surgically attached to his hip.”
    “He talked about it,” Julia said with a smile as she sipped hot tea from a china cup. “And it doesn’t hurt that Max-Two here was bo rn on his daddy’s birthday. I don’t know if I get any credit here at all.”
    “Two Leos against one Scorpion,” Holly said, shaking her head. “Juli a, you don’t stand a chance. Al though I guess you’re going to try for at least one compatible Pisces or Cancer to even things out.”
    “Oh, definitely. I’m not a slave to this astrology stuff, but I have to admit it, it works on Max. He can be ready to fly into one of his tempers, or go into a pout, and all I have to do is sling a compliment his way and he starts purring l ike a