Be My Valentine Read Online Free PDF Page A

poured them each a cup of coffee. “How’d we meet?”
    Dianne told him, lowering her voice when she came to the part about the low-cal frozen dinners. She found it rather humiliating to have to repeat her private fantasy a second time, especially to Steve.
    He looked incredulous when she’d finished. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
    Dianne took offense at his tone. This was her romantic invention he was ridiculing, and she hadn’t even mentioned the part about the Rimsky-Korsakov symphony or the chiming bells.
    â€œI didn’t have time to think of anything better,” Dianne explained irritably. “Jason hit me with the question first thing and I wasn’t prepared.”
    â€œWhat did Jason say when you told him that story?”
    â€œHe said you sounded like a flake.”
    â€œI don’t blame him.”
    Dianne’s shoulders sagged with defeat.
    â€œDon’t worry about it,” Steve assured her, still frowning. “I’ll clear everything up when I meet him Thursday night.” He said it in a way that suggested the task would be difficult.
    â€œGood—only don’t make me look like any more of a fool than I already do.”
    â€œI’ll try my best,” he said with the same dubious inflection he’d used when they’d first sat down.
    Dianne sympathized. This entire affair was quickly going from bad to worse, and there was no one to fault but her. Who would’ve dreamed finding a date for the Valentine’s dinner would cause so many problems?
    As they sipped their coffee, Dianne studied the man sitting across from her. She was somewhat surprised to discover that Steve Creighton looked even better the second time around. He was dressed in slacks and an Irish cable-knit sweater the color of winter wheat. His smile was a ready one and his eyes, now that she had a chance to see them in the light, were a deep, rich shade of brown like his hair. The impression he’d given her of a considerate, generous man persisted. He must be. No one else would have agreed to this scheme, at least not without a more substantial inducement.
    â€œI’m afraid I might’ve painted my kids a picture of you that’s not quite accurate,” Dianne admitted. Both her children had been filled with questions about Steve when they’d returned from school that afternoon. Jason had remained skeptical, but Jill, always a romantic—Dianne couldn’t imagine where she’d inherited that!—had bombarded her for details.
    â€œI’ll do my best to live up to my image,” Steve was quick to assure her.
    Placing her elbows on the table, Dianne brushed a thick swatch of hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Listen, I’m sorry I ever got you involved in this.”
    â€œNo backing out now—I’ve laid out cold hard cash for the dinner tickets.”
    Which was a not-so-subtle reminder that she owed him for those. She dug through her bag and brought out her checkbook. “I’ll write you a check for the tickets right now.”
    â€œI’m not worried.” He dismissed her offer with a wave of his hand.
    Nevertheless, Dianne insisted. If she paid him in increments, she wouldn’t have to think about how much this fiasco would end up costing her. She had the distinct feeling that by the time the Valentine’s dinner was over, she would’ve spent as much as if she’d taken a Hawaiian vacation. Or gone to Seattle for the weekend, anyway.
    After adding her signature, with a flair, to the bottom of the check, she kept her eyes lowered and said, “If I upped the ante ten dollars do you think you could manage to look…besotted?”
    â€œBesotted?” Steve repeated the word as though he’d never heard it before.
    â€œYou know, smitten.”
    â€œSmitten?”
    Again he made it sound as though she were speaking a foreign language. “Attracted,”