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"Let's get you guys to your favorite table. Lauren, bring something to help clean Paul up. And Ritchie, you look like you could use a drink."

She politely dragged them across the room under her effusive hostess pretense. Both of them went like they were dazed while still staring at Chance. Isa didn't know what he'd meant by his bizarre little imagining of what Ritchie had been about to say, but damn it, this was her restaurant! Not some criminal macho showboating ring.

Paul stiffened. "Uh…we gotta go, Isa," he said. "Gotta check something out."

"You think Kevlar?" Ritchie whispered with a glance in Chance's direction.

"Must've been," Paul muttered.

Isa didn't care what they were babbling about as long as they didn't cause any more disruption.

"Don't worry about him, he's on his way out," she said low.

Paul looked at Chance and grunted. "Uh huh. We thought that last night, too."

What?

Ritchie grabbed Paul's arm. "Come on, let's roll. Boss needs to hear about this."

With a last look at Chance—and the mess on his Armani shirt—Paul left with Ritchie in tow. Chance gave them a cheery wave that made Isa want to smack him again. Thankfully, it was obvious Robert's two thugs had pressing business elsewhere.

Chance stood, stretched, and brushed his hand across Isa's cheek.

"Some things we need to talk about, but not here. I'll see you later, darling."

"No you won't, nut muffin!" she replied as low and fiercely as she could.

He laughed at that, giving her a lingering glance.

"Yes, I will."

Chapter 3

Robert came in right after closing. All the patrons were gone and it was just her, a few servers, and her head chef Frank tidying things up.

"Isa," he said, without acknowledging any of her staff. "Brought you your wedding dress."

Frank and the others left the main room, used to Robert's rudeness by now. Paul obediently approached Isa holding a garment bag. Isa stared at it for a moment before taking it. Even holding the dress in her hands filled her with panic. Frazier better call again soon, she found herself thinking, because I can't fake this much longer.

"Um…thanks." She couldn't manage to say anything more enthusiastic.

"It was my mother's, God rest her soul," Robert replied, crossing himself. "My sister made an appointment for you to get it fitted. She'll call you tomorrow with the date and time."

No consultation, no consideration for her schedule. Isa hadn't even participated in the decision of where or when her wedding was going to take place. Robert's sister had showed up at Isa's restaurant a week ago and told her what church to be at on what date. It was a good thing Isa had no intention of actually marrying Robert, or she would have been pissed about how someone else was planning her wedding.

"The boys tell me that dark-haired mook's been hangin' around you again," Robert went on. "They warned him to stay away last night, but they said he was back again tonight. I don't like that, Isa. It's disrespectful to me."

She had to tread carefully. Chance might be asking for trouble, but Isa didn't want to serve him up a big plate of it.

"He's just a customer, Robert. I wouldn't even remember him, except Paul and Ritchie made such a stink when they saw him earlier."

Robert gave her a hard stare, but Isa schooled her face to show only innocence. If Catholic nuns couldn't make her admit to cheating on a test in high school, then Robert had no chance of breaking her with his gaze.

Finally he shrugged. "Good. Then you won't mind if the boys keep this troublemaker from bothering you in the future."

"If I see him again, I'll tell him not to come back myself," Isa said with complete honesty.

Robert moved closer. It took all of Isa's willpower not to flinch when he touched her face.

"Still…maybe you should come home with me. This guy could be a real whack job. I don't want anything happening to you."

Isa hardly knew Chance, but already she surmised that out of the two of them, the true whack job was the man in front of her.

"That's okay, Robert. I'll be fine. If I see him again, I—I'll call you so you can deal with him."

A complete lie. She'd chase Chance away herself, true, but she'd never turn him over to Robert.

Robert trailed his fingers down her arm. "Maybe that's not the only reason I want you to stay with me," he said in a husky voice.

Oh, shit. Isa steeled herself to stay where she was, instead of running away screaming, "hell no!" like she wanted to.

"I told you before, Robert—I'm an old-fashioned Catholic girl. That's one of the things you like about me, remember? Well, in my family, we don't have sex until our wedding night."

Another bunch of bullshit. Isa hadn't been a virgin since nineteen, and while she hadn't racked up the notches on her bedpost, she'd had a few lovers in her time. None since she moved back to Philly three years ago, however, which is why Robert didn't know about them and believed her claims of chastity. And while she couldn't speak for her grandparents, Isa was pretty sure her parents hadn't abstained from premarital sex either.

But just in case Robert needed more convincing than her supposed desire to wait until their wedding night…

"Besides," Isa whispered, waving Robert closer. She unzipped her purse and held it open so the contents were visible. "It may not be a good time right now."

Robert peered inside at the multiple tubes and then picked one up curiously.

"Vagisil," he read the label, his mouth twisting down. "For treatment of acute feminine itching and discharge—argh!"

He threw the Vagisil across the room as if it had grown into a hairy cockroach. Isa bit her lip to contain her laughter from the horrified look on Robert's face.

Ritchie gasped before dropping his gaze below her waist.

"What kind of nastiness do you have down there?"

Robert stalked over and punched him straight in the face. "That's my future wife you're talkin' to!" he snapped, though he also gave a look of dread at Isa's lower half.

She spun around and zipped her purse back up as if indignant. It helped that none of them could see her expression, because her lips couldn't stop twitching.

"It's not nastiness, it's a yeast infection," she info rmed them in a prim tone. "They're very common. After another week of treatment, it'll be gone, or so my doctor tells me. You remember the doctor's appointment I had last week, right, Robert? Well, this is what it was for. My doctor even put me on antibiotics to help ensure that the bacteria doesn't spread and turn into a urinary tract infection as well."

Lie number three. Isa had gone to the doctor and gotten antibiotics, true, but that was for the sore throat she'd claimed to have. Then she'd bought every kind of over-the-counter yeast infection treatment available and stuffed it all in her purse, just waiting for the moment when Robert might try this.

"You…" Robert didn't seem to know what to say. Isa turned back to him, biting the inside of her cheeks hard to keep from grinning. Robert gave one more disgusted glance at Isa's purse before he continued.

"Get yourself fixed up, and call me if that mook comes back. I'll see you, uh, in a couple days."

Ritchie and Paul hurried after him. Only when Isa heard Robert's car pull away with a squeal of tires did she allow herself to break into a smile.

Her head chef Frank came out of the prep room. From his smile, he'd heard every word.

"You're one sadistic chick," he said admiringly.

Isa's grin widened. "Never underestimate the power of a woman." Then she patted her purse. "Or Vagisil."

* * *