Mark adjusts the angle of his head and his arms curve around her waist, drawing her closer. Joy stops him with a hand against his chest. “Shower, now.” Or they won’t make their dinner reservation.

“Yes, ma’am.”

They shower together, and later, after she towels off and slips into the resort’s complimentary terry robe, she joins Mark in the room. The plan is to dress for dinner and have a cocktail at the bar beforehand. But Mark, sporting a matching robe, has dimmed the lights and popped a bottle of champagne. What’s he up to?

“When did you order this?” she asked, touched by the romantic gesture. She didn’t hear him call for room service.

“I might have mentioned something when I made the reservation.” He looks at her from under hooded lashes and fills two flutes with champagne.

She tightens the robe belt, slides her hands in the pockets. “What’s the occasion?” She arches an inquisitive brow, shoots him a sexy smile. She knows perfectly well what they’re celebrating.

He brings a hand to his chest with a dramatic gasp. “You don’t know? I’m insulted. Ring a bell?” He shows her two fingers.

“You got another job?”

“No.”

“You bought another car?”

“And deal with New York parking? Do we live in Manhattan?” Sarcasm drips from him. He waves his fingers, a give-it-up gesture. “Don’t let me down, Mrs. Larson. Let’s have it.”

Joy taps her chin and hums. “It wouldn’t happen to be our second anniversary?”

“It would and it is.” He dusts a congratulatory kiss on her cheek and presents her a flute. “My lady.”

“Thank you, dah-ling.” Joy plays along, smiling. Her stomach flutters in anticipation, anxiety, and arousal. A heady combination that has her heart racing and feeling light-headed. She has news to share and isn’t sure how he’ll take it. Will she ruin his romantic plans for the evening, or will they miss dinner because Mark can’t get her to bed fast enough?

Joy looks at the champagne’s label. “Dom Pérignon. You do go big.”

“Go big or go home, baby. To us.”

“To us.” Joy taps her flute’s rim to his and sips. The liquid goes down easy. Smooth, creamy, and golden. She tosses back the rest. Liquid courage.

Mark’s eyes widen. “All righty then.” He finishes his and refills their glasses. Joy drinks half of hers before Mark returns the bottle to the ice bucket. “Ease up, Joy. We still have dinner.”

“Dr. Egan removed my IUD last month,” she blurts.