Page 3 of About Last Night

"Really."

"But you've only known the man for a year."

"Precisely."

Her sister's head jutted forward. "You'veneverhad sex with Steve?"

"Bingo."

"Unbelievable!" Jumping to her feet, Marie flung out her arms. "Why didn’t you say something?"

At the moment she was wishing shestillhadn't said anything, and now she darn sure wasn't going to admit she was a virgin on top of everything else. "I was just too... I don't know—embarrassed, I guess."

"So have you two ever talked about it

"I've brought up the subject lots of times, but he only said he wanted to wait until we're married."

"Which explains why he proposed so quickly."

Janine frowned.

"And the fact that he loves you, of course," Marie added hastily. "Maybe you need to be more assertive. You know, take the bull by the horns, so to speak."

She reflected on the few awkward episodes when she'd tried to make her physical needs known to Steve. "I've tried everything short of throwing myself at him."

"Hmm. Maybe he's truly trying to be chivalrous."

She pursed her lips and nodded. "And I'm glad he respects me. But it's more than not having sex. He gets angry when I bring it up, and he shuts me out. Sometimes he doesn't call for days afterward."

Marie let out a low whistle. "Sounds like he might have some hang-ups. Maybe he's burnt out from fixing all those breasts and butts and lips and chins."

"Maybe," she agreed.

"Well, you know he's a full-fledged hetero—Steve's other girlfriends weren't known for their, ahem, virtuous restraint."

Janine closed her eyes, suddenly sick to her stomach. "That's what worries me. I've heard him say there are two kinds of women—the ones you sleep with and the ones you marry."

Marie winced. "Uh-oh. Therapy alert."

Janine nodded, blinking back tears.

"So if you're worried, why did you say yes?"

She inhaled, then sat cross-legged. "Good question. I think 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?"

"Okay, noteverything I like to do, but we're good together—you said so yourself."

"Uh-uh," her sister denied with a finger wag. "I said youlookgood together—blond and blue-eyed, you the flower child, he the Valley guy. But that doesn't mean you'regoodtogether."

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.

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