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it.” Cristopoulis nodded, and the tension between them was palpable—not a bad tension, either. The air was electric with anticipation, and he found himself looking forward to the reception at the North Woods Resort with an unreasonable amount of interest.
    “What is the dress code for the event?” He frowned at the invitation, as LeeAnn half-coughed, half-snorted.
    “This isn’t a real city, Cris. It’s Haralson, Minnesota. Dressing up generally means that you’ve taken off your field jacket and waders before entering the building.”
    “Oh?” he asked. “Then what did you wear when you last attended?”
    “I—” She waved a hand. “A dress, I’m sure. Something nice, not cocktail or anything. You’d be fine in a suit, possibly overdressed.”
    “But I’m European. We thrive on overdressing.”
    He took another step toward her as she laughed, then leaned in to kiss her on the brow.
    “No matter what you decide to wear, you’ll be the most beautiful woman of the night, Ms. Werth,” he said. “The moment that you smile.”

Chapter Four
    LeeAnn bit her lip, surveying herself critically in the mirror. Up until five minutes ago her bed had been strewn with every nice dress she’d ever worn since she was sixteen, but Cris would be arriving any minute, and she didn’t want him to get any glimpse into how knotted up she was over this date.
    But it was a date. Her first in so long, she’d lost count of the months. There’d been opportunities, of course. Haralson wasn’t so filled with eligible women that LeeAnn had gone completely unnoticed. But she simply hadn’t had the time. Since she’d returned to Haralson, the inn had proven to be more than enough of a companion to her most days—and nights as well.
    Tonight was different, though. She’d gotten plenty of extra staff in to take care of the inn’s guests, from late afternoon through early morning. Unless the place caught on fire, she’d be fine playing hooky for one night.
    And to be honest, the only thing likely to catch on fire tonight was her nerves. She pivoted to one side, then the other, but this really was the best option. The soft, knee-length dress wasn’t black, which would have been the safest choice. But the evening was turning cool, and her black sheath was sleeveless. So she’d gone with the gray jersey-knit wrap dress that showed off her curves, while the rosy pink gauzy scarf she’d paired with it warmed up her face without any embarrassed blush needed. She’d kept her hair down, out of its perennial top knot, and she looked…feminine, she thought. Maybe even pretty.
    Putting away the last of the discarded clothes, she smiled at her own vanity. Why would Cris care that she’d fretted over what she’d wear tonight? He probably had women fretting over him wherever he went.
    As LeeAnn reached the bottom of the stairs, a knock sounded at the door, and her throat tightened. “Will you calm down?” she muttered. “It’s a reception at the North Woods, not a date to Cinderella’s ball.”
    Then she opened the door, and was forced to change her mind.
    “Oh!” she said, her eyes widening. “Um, hi.”
    “Hi,” Cris nodded to her and extended his hand. She took it automatically, though if her booted feet were still touching the floor she didn’t know how. The mysterious businessman from Garronia was wearing a suit she didn’t even know he owned—rich dark gray jacket, an electric blue shirt open at the collar, with silver cufflinks and a silver watch on his wrist. He smiled at LeeAnn’s obvious surprise, but his own regard was frank and appreciative.
    “You’re beautiful,” he said, and he tugged her toward his rented sedan.
    For a moment, she’d thought Rico would be driving, as usual when Cris went anywhere. But it looked like Cris had gotten the keys to the car for the evening, and she giggled despite herself.
    He quirked her a glance, then winked as if he could read her mind. “We could be in Chicago by