I need another glass of wine.”
Marie obliged, filling her lipstick-smudged glass from the bottle sitting on the dresser. “No more for me, I’m going over to Greg’s later.”
Janine swallowed a mouthful of the sweet liquid, savoring the slight tingle as it slid down her throat. “Why did I say yes? Because Steve is great-looking and he has a terrific future, and he’s charming and he likes the same things I do.”
“Harvesting herbs and practicing yoga?” Marie looked dubious.
“Okay, not every thing I like to do, but we’re good together—you said so yourself.”
“Uh-uh,” her sister denied with a finger wag. “I said you look good together—blond and blue-eyed, you the flower child, he the Valley guy. But that doesn’t mean you’re good together.”
This conversation was not making her feel better. No one at the clinic was more surprised than she when Steve Larsen, the hunky surgeon who had every woman in white shoes worked into a lather, had asked her out. Frankly, she’d anticipated losing her virginity rather quickly to the ladies’ man with the notorious reputation, but instead, he had scrupulously avoided intimate contact.
“Steve’s a gentleman,” she murmured.
“Janine!” Marie said, exasperated. “You shouldn’t marry the guy just because you think he’s nice. Are you sure you want to spend the rest of your life with Steve Larsen?”
She’d lain awake last night asking herself the same question, wallowing in her concerns, trying to sort through her overblown fantasies of passionate love and what appeared to be a less interesting reality. “His life and his family are just so…fascinating.”
“You’re fascinating,” Marie insisted.
“I thought I was the one drinking. Sis, I have the most boring life of any person I know.”
Marie lifted her hands. “I’m sure there are exciting things going on at the clinic all the time.”
“Oh, yeah, flu season gives me goose bumps.”
Marie crossed her arms. “Okay, I’ll bite—what would you consider exciting?”
Janine studied the ceiling, smiling in lazy wishful thinking. “I’d like to be caught up in a passionate relationship with Steve—you know, where we can’t keep our hands off each other. I want…something irrational. Illogical. And highly irregular.”
Her sister sighed. “Don’t we all? If you’re having second thoughts, you need to be proactive. Look in the mirror, Janine. In case no one’s told you, you don’t have to settle.”
“Spoken like a true sister,” she teased, but panic swirled in her stomach. She gripped her glass tighter. “And I don’t feel like I’m settling…most of the time. I love Steve, and I know sex isn’t everything, but what if he and I aren’t physically compatible?”
Marie angled her head. “Couples can work through those things, although Steve doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would agree to see a counselor.”
“You got that right.” Steve prided himself on having his life together, from his thriving cosmetic surgery practice to his low golf handicap.
Marie quirked her mouth from side to side. “You’re not married yet. There’s still time.”
Janine laughed miserably. “Right, I can just see telling Mother I’m canceling the wedding because Steve won’t have sex with me.”
“No, I mean you still have time to find out if the two of you are sexually compatible.” Her mouth curved into a mischievous smile. “Where is Steve tonight?”
“The groomsmen gave him a bachelor party at the resort. He’s spending the night there.”
“Perfect! You said you’d tried everything short of throwing yourself at him, right?”
“Yeah,” Janine offered, wary.
Marie held up the pink bustier and grinned. “I can’t think of a better outfit to wear while throwing yourself at the man you’re about to marry.”
“But—” Her mind spun for a good reason to object, except she couldn’t think of one.
“Try it on and see how it looks.”
Janine stood and considered the outrageous getup while she sipped her wine. “I don’t know if I can figure out all those hooks.”
Her sister scoffed. “I have one of these things, although it’s not nearly as nice.” She glanced at the label and whistled. “Darn, Sandy must have dropped a pretty penny on this outfit.”
“Steve obviously overpays her,” Janine said, then immediately felt petty. Steve’s receptionist wasn’t to blame for the holes in their relationship. Maybe Marie was right—maybe she hadn’t been vocal enough about her…needs.
“A little big,” Marie observed, handing over the various pieces of the naughty ensemble, “but probably more comfortable this way.”
Janine held up the lingerie, incongruous against her long, shapeless navy dress. A woman of twenty-nine had needs, after all.
“You’re going to rock his world,” Marie said over her shoulder.
She took her vitamins every day, she stayed fit, she read Cosmo…she could do this. Besides, she was a summer—pink was on her palette. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
Marie clapped her hands. “What a story for me to tell your daughter.”
“Not until she’s fifty, or I’m dead, whichever comes first.”
MINUTES LATER, they were still struggling to get all the pieces in place. Marie grunted behind her and jerked the bustier tighter. “Inhale and hold it.”
“I thought you said this was a little big,” Janine gasped, afraid to exhale. “I think you detached a rib.”
“For Steve’s sake, I hope this thing is easier to remove than it is to get on.” With a final yank, Marie straightened and backed away. “Where are those black heels you bought when we were at the mall a few months ago?” She walked to the closet.
“You mean those shoes you made me buy because they were such a great deal but they weren’t such a great deal because I’ve never worn them?”
“Yeah.”
“On the bottom shelf in the orange box.”
Marie went to the closet, and emerged, triumphant. After Janine stepped into the shoes, she stared in the full-length mirror at the pink-and-black creation: the boned pink satin bustier pushed her breasts to incredible heights and left her shoulders bare above black ruffly trim. Black laces crisscrossed her back, and Marie had tied them off with a large bow at the top. The matching panties were cut high on the legs, veeing below her navel, and trimmed with more scratchy lace. The black garter belts connecting the bottom of the bustier with the top of her thigh-high black hose were drawn so tight, she was sure if they popped, she’d be maimed for life. “If I had a feather boa, I could walk onto the set of Gunsmoke.”
Behind her, Marie laughed. “You look awesome! You hide that fab figure of yours. Believe me, Steve won’t know what hit him. You two will be so exhausted after tonight, you’ll have to postpone the wedding.”
Maybe it was the effects of the wine, but she had to admit she was feeling pretty sexy, albeit a little shaky, in her stiletto heels. “But what will I do?”
“I’ll drop you off at the resort, and you can surprise him.”
She looked down. “I’ll be arrested if I walk into the hotel like this.”
Her sister went back to the closet and returned carrying a black all-weather coat. “Here.”
Janine shrugged