Free No More Lonely Nights by Nicole McGehee Page A

can’t take his eyes off you.” She smiled wistfully. “My husband hasn’t looked at me that way for years. But,” she continued cheerfully, “we’re happy for Stephen. For both of you.”
    Dominique was shocked at the American woman’s openness—she spoke as if Stephen and Dominique were married—but it made it easier for Dominique to say what was on her mind. “You don’t… blame me?” she asked hesitantly.
    The American flipped her wrist nonchalantly. “For what? People have to be realistic. In a situation where there are long separations from a spouse, and where the marriage isn’t happy, who’s to blame for the consequences?”
    Dominique thought of Solange. Solange would find someone to blame and it would most certainly be Dominique! She shuddered to think of the uproar if her mother ever learned that she was in love with a married man—and that he was in love with her.
    The ballroom of the French officers’ club was awash in scarlet poinsettias. Banks of them obscured the murals on the walls and were reflected in the mirror-like parquet of the floor.
    Dominique and Stephen stopped short just inside the entrance and gasped at the holiday display, their eyes widening at the extravagance of the scene. Now Dominique understood why ladies had been requested to wear Christmas red. Women on the dance floor spun to the music, their red gowns flying in circles about them, rubies and other precious stones sparkling against their bare skin. The effect was magical.
    Stephen smiled down at Dominique. “Your dress matches the poinsettias.”
    Dominique laughed and smoothed the skirt of her full, crimson velvet gown. Its portrait collar plunged to a low V in front and back, creating the perfect setting for the diamond and ruby necklace she wore, so delicate that it looked like the dewy silk of a spider’s web. The bottommost stone glittered enticingly at the apex of her lush cleavage.
    Stephen gazed at the stone, then followed it with his eyes to the even more inviting sight below. He leaned close and squeezed her hand. “I’m so proud you’re with me.”
    Dominique looked up at him, radiant with love. She tried not to think of their impending separation: he would return to England until after the New Year, she to Cairo. She got a knot in her stomach every time she thought of the three weeks without him. He had become such a fixture in her life that she could barely imagine it. Yet she knew he was eager to see his children and loved him for feeling that way.
    The time would go quickly, she tried to reassure herself. There would be much required of her as Solange prepared for her annual New Year’s Eve gala. And then there would be a full calendar of invitations.
    In any event, there was no use spoiling tonight’s beautiful party by brooding about Stephen’s departure. Dominique laced her arm through his and let him lead her through the crowd to their reserved table at the side of the room.
    Amidst greetings and friendly kisses, the couple finally arrived at their table for two. Once seated, they were barely noticeable in the hubbub around them, and they liked it that way. They ordered champagne and settled back to listen to the orchestra. It was playing the lively “Shall We Dance” from
The King and I.
Stephen lightly drummed the tabletop in time to the music. Dominique couldn’t keep from tapping her foot. The waiter reappeared a few moments later and filled their glasses with a flourish.
    When he had gone, Stephen lifted his glass and said, “Happy New Year, darling.” He uttered the words with zest, his spirits obviously high.
    “Happy New Year.” Dominique matched his tone. It was impossible not to feel cheerful when the room glittered with such life and fun—and when she was with Stephen. He looked resplendent in his dress uniform, his shoulders broad and square, his face brimming with male vitality, his eyes sparkling. She remembered with amusement her initial impression of him. How could she