045:

He escorted her with a hand on the small of her back, realizing as he touched her that she absolutely wore nothing under her dress at all. He couldn't feel even one bubble of elastic, just skin, and it burned where he touched.

There was absolutely nothing modest about her dress either. And only she could pull it off. He had to admire her for that. She was extremely fit, not an ounce of spare flab on her anywhere. Just that little tummy out front to attest to her condition. Her hair was up, leaving her creamy neckline exposed. The dress dropped down her back to her waist, with tightly fitting straps crisscrossing around the back of her shoulders and high in the front. It flowed like wine over her very slender figure right now, but not one blob of cellulite marred the perfection of her supple grace.

This was rebellion, Mia style.

She was a marvel to him, in fact as he got out of the limo and helped her fake smiling face out as well, he noticed that everybody was staring at her. She was still gorgeous.

He kept a hand on her, but she had learned to diffuse herself better the last few months, and wasn't as hot as he'd expected. She was rather cool to him, though, personally. Their former advanced stage of flirtatiousness had vanished. She waved to a few people she knew and then demurely followed her family into the theater. She was lit with her plan to ignore him, while keeping him right next to her, how funny was that? If he'd married her for appearances, she'd told him in the car, then he would get a pristine performance.

So that was what she was telling herself. That he'd married her for appearance sake. Not love, not because of what they'd once had.

Well, he'd done his best to convince her before they married that those were his reasons, love and for the sake of their past relationship. But he'd also done his best since then to keep her guessing. He supposed she was no longer guessing. She'd come to a conclusion, albeit a wrong one. It wasn't all for appearance sake. There was a much deeper reason behind his actions.

He smiled and waved; he stopped and flirted shamelessly, spoke to a couple of paparazzi, and confirmed that he and Melia were in fact married. He saw Robert off to one side, smiling benignly at them. He knew their seats were together.

He bristled a bit recalling that when he'd called her a second time to find out her colors for the evening that she'd actually left this morning to go sit at Robert and Karen's side. She had not even told him she was going.

Of course, he never really gave her a chance, just assumed she'd be right where he'd left her... still stewing.

He liked Robert. Had asked him to be his best man. But more because it didn't matter than that he was close friends with him. They had just finished the flick together, that was all. Now they would part and go their own ways.

Melia had spotted him. She moved like a model through the crowd to his side and rather than a flimsy cosmetic peck on the cheek, she actually took his hand, squeezed it with real meaning and pressed herself to him for a hug, a meaningful hug, and Robert's hand was high on her naked back, holding her to him, not in any flirty image way for the photographers, but because they had forged something in the long hours waiting for his spouse to die.

Ryan watched Melia carefully; the hint of rebellion was gone when she looked into Robert's eyes, messages passed between them. He felt a weird sense of longing pass through him. He'd given this up, he thought angrily. His pride wouldn't let him give her his love.

"How are you feeling, Mia?" Robert asked as if he hadn't seen her just hours ago. "Who is watching Hannah?"

"The nanny this time." She smiled brightly, letting everyone know that she had a great concern for this man and his dying wife. She kept Ryan's hand too, held tightly so he couldn't embarrass her and run off to flirt with any of those sweet young things he habitually called, even on their wedding night, when he had completely and totally rejected her, for whatever his reason.

She was done playing that game.

*****