They settled into the chairs, the polished table between them gleaming with fresh linen and a small vase of white lilies. Arianne rested her hands lightly on her lap, studying him with a calm, curious composure that always seemed to disarm people before they realized it.
"I'll admit," she said after a moment, her voice warm with wry amusement, "I rather thought you might take longer to arrive."
Michael gave a short, soft laugh, the sort that never quite reached his eyes.
"I pray I never see the day I make a woman wait for me."
The words left his mouth before he could reconsider them, and for one flickering instant he thought perhaps he'd spoken too lightly.