“Okay. That makes sense.” She rubbed her hands together. Things would be perfect if Ridge would leave the bedroom just as soon as the server left. He would be surprised by the romantic dinner she’d arranged which would put him in a mellow mood before she executed part two of her plan. With that thought in mind she gave the man a hearty tip then quickly rushed him and his dinner trolley out the door and turned off all the lights in the room. The only illumination was the soft glow from the candles.
With everything in place, Lani went to sit at the table and wait for her husband to appear. Five minutes passed but there was no Ridge, which made Lani frown. What was taking him so long? She didn’t want the food to get cold. After another two minutes she decided to go check on him. She found him sprawled out on top of the bed in nothing but his boxer shorts. He was lying on his back, arms folded across her chest. He was staring up at the ceiling, a dark scowl on his face.
“What are you doing?” she asked, stepping into the room. “Aren’t you going to get dressed?”
“For what?” he growled. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.” Then his glare left the ceiling and he trained it on her. “Who’s this guy you’re going out with? And why the heck did you set up this date? You’re my wife.” His eyes narrowed. “Or did you forget that part?”
Ridge was really jealous now, which was the effect Lani had been going for. The more riled up she got him the hotter their lovemaking would be once she’d wined and dined him. At least, that was her theory.
If she ever got a chance to do the wining and dining… He looked like he’d taken up permanent residence right there in the middle of the bed. She decided to try another tactic. “I have a surprise for you. Why don’t you get dressed and come out to the living room?”
He gave her a suspicious glare. “I’m not interested.”
“Oh, come on,” she said, exasperated. “Stop being so stubborn. You know you want to see what it is.”
“Actually, I don’t.” He gave her a cool look. “If you want to get me out there so you can introduce me to your date, it ain’t happening.”
“Will you stop being an ass and get yourself into the living room?” Lani gave a hiss of annoyance and turned toward the door. There was just so much patience she could exercise. “You get your butt outside, do you hear me? You have two minutes.”
With that she stalked off to plop herself back into her chair at the dining table. She was mad. After she’d gone to all this trouble her fabulous dinner was getting cold and it was all because of that obstinate, unreasonable man. She folded her arms across her chest, gritted her teeth and waited. She would give him two minutes and no more.
But after two minutes there was no sign of Ridge. Lani let out an exasperated sigh but she kept her bottom glued to the chair. She was not going to run after Ridge. She sat there, refusing to look at the clock, and she waited and waited. And still no Ridge.
Finally, no longer able to resist, she looked up at the clock on the wall. Seven-sixteen. Ridge had kept her waiting over ten minutes and on top of that the cursed musicians were late.
The tap at the door came just on the tail end of that thought, just when she’d decided she didn’t want any damn music, anyway. But when she opened the door there they were, three of them, and they were grinning from ear to ear.
Lani gave them the less than welcoming greeting of a groan. “Is it too late to cancel you guys?”
“Yup,” the short one said and before she could even think of closing the door he walked in, his two tuxedoed buddies behind him.
It seemed that things were out of her hands. She was about to be serenaded, whether she wanted it or not.
With a sigh of resignation she went back to the table and sat. Talk about a waste of time. But she’d ordered them so she guessed she would just have to sit through it. Alone.
“Ready, madam?” the one who looked like the leader asked.
Lani grimaced. “Yeah. Go ahead.”
***
What the heck? Was somebody holding a concert in the living room?
Although Ridge’s scowl had disappeared long ago, now it came back full force. There were violins playing in the living room and he had no idea why.
He gave a grunt of annoyance. Lani must be desperate, resorting to playing classical music to get him to leave the bedroom. Well, it wasn’t going to work.
But then the music got louder, almost sounding like it was live. But it couldn’t be.
His curiosity getting the better of him, Ridge got up off the bed and padded across the floor to throw the bedroom door open. What he saw made him draw back in surprise.
Three violinists stood around Lani where she sat at the dining table and they were playing with such concentration and feeling you would think they were performing in front of an audience of a thousand.
And there was Lani, sitting at the table laden with dish upon dish, and she had her head down and it looked like she was…crying?
He’d made a couple of steps forward when she looked up, her eyes widening as she saw him. “Ridge,” she gasped. “You’re not dressed.”
He looked down and saw that she was right. He’d walked out into the living room in nothing but his boxer shorts. But how could he have known she had real live musicians performing in their hotel suite?
But when the men saw him they did not pause in their serenade. True professionals, they swung their attention back to the woman at the table and continued playing.
So this was the surprise Lani had spoken about. She’d arranged dinner and music for them. And, he now realized, the man with whom she’d planned on having dinner, was him.
That knowledge made him feel like the biggest jerk there was. His main concern the beautiful woman sitting at the table, Ridge strode toward her, not even bothered by his near na**d state. He had other, far more important things to think about like how to get back into the good graces of his wife. As soon as he got to her side he went to drop to his knees, ready to shower her with apologies, but before he could do it she pulled him down and practically shoved him into the chair beside her.
Before he could move, before he could even speak, she’d left her chair and was climbing onto his lap, the tears sliding down her cheeks to fall onto his bare chest. “I’m sorry, Ridge. It’s my fault we’re not speaking. All my fault.”
Ridge lifted his arms to gather her close but then the violin music and the ready-made audience got to him. He looked up at the men of music who were performing like mad even though their ears were obviously cocked to hear what would come next.