“Yes. We’ve met at least once a week for the last six months when he came to pick up my sister for dates, or weekends away,” Kyle announced calmly, then smiled at Magda. “Of course, they’re broken up now. I guess that means you’re marrying Jill’s castoff.”

Dead silence fell between the four of them, during which Magda’s face flushed with a mounting fury. When Ted’s mouth began to work silently like a fish out of water, Kyle took Claire’s arm and said, “We should circulate, but it was so nice seeing you. I do hope the two of you are as happy as you deserve to be.”

Claire bit her lip at the double-edged comment as Kyle led her away. A glance over her shoulder showed Magda had turned furiously on Ted and was now berating him something fierce. If he wasn’t such a jerk, Claire might almost have felt sorry for the man.

Shaking her head, she turned to Kyle and murmured, “You handled that beautifully. Ted lost his smug look in a hurry.”

“Yes, but Jill will be upset with me, I suppose,” he said on a sigh.

“I don’t think she will. You put both of them in their place with the ‘Jill’s castoff’ crack,” Claire said with amusement. “Besides, she has a special date herself tonight, one that should finish setting Magda and Ted on their ears.”

“Really?” Kyle asked with interest. “Who?”

Claire bit her lip and hesitated, unsure how to answer. He was going to be shocked enough when he saw Jill enter—seemingly on the arm of Brad Cruise. In the end, Claire decided to let Jill deal with it and shook her head. “You’ll see soon enough.”

Kyle peered at her closely. For a minute, she feared he might press the issue, but he apparently decided to let it go. He merely asked if she’d care for a drink, then moved toward the bar.

Claire peered around at the other attendees as she waited. At least half the tables were filled. No doubt most of the attendees would show up over the next half hour before she slipped out to the parking lot. Jill and her “date” would probably be nearly the last, if not the last people to arrive, which was just as Jill wanted it. If everyone was seated for the meal when they entered, it meant absolutely everyone would see who—or who they would believe—was on her arm as she sashayed in.

Claire took a deep breath and tried not to let panic overwhelm her as she thought about what was to come. She and Jill had discussed it in detail before she’d left with Kyle for the reunion, trying to cover every possible problem with their plan. The first issue to crop up was her voice. While Claire could make herself look like Brad Cruise, nothing she could do would make her sound like the man. They had decided she wasn’t to talk. Jill would claim she—he, Claire corrected herself, he—Brad Cruise—had a bad case of laryngitis. Claire had also insisted on no autographs; it was one thing to pretend to be Brad Cruise at a school reunion, and quite another to indulge in forgery by signing his autograph for a couple hundred people.

“They didn’t have Châteauneuf-du-Pape, so I got you Montepulciano.”

Claire glanced up and smiled as Kyle offered her a glass of wine. “Thank you.”

Kyle nodded, his eyes moving over her solemnly as he took a sip of his own drink. Lowering the glass, he asked, “How do you feel? Any ill effects from this afternoon?”

Claire shook her head quickly and told herself she wasn’t lying as she took a sip of wine. After all, being able to shape-shift wasn’t necessarily an “ill effect,” was it? Sighing, she lowered her glass and glanced around. The tables had been set up around the outside of the large room, leaving a wide space to dance in, and couples were out there now sweeping along to a ten-year-old love song.

“Would you like to dance?” Kyle asked, following her gaze.

Claire hesitated and nearly said no, but it would have been a lie. She really would like to dance, she was just afraid of stumbling and making a fool of herself. Deciding to be brave, she nodded.

Kyle took her wine and set it on a table next to them. He then took Claire’s arm and led her out onto the center of the floor.

Claire was as tense and sweaty as a teenager as Kyle took her in his arms. She hadn’t been this nervous with a man in a long time, but then none of the men she’d dated had meant as much to her as Kyle did. She was so wired up it took a moment for her to notice that they fit perfectly together, her body matching itself to his as if fitting into a puzzle slot.

“We fit together perfectly,” Kyle whispered by her ear.

Claire stiffened in surprise at his verbalizing her thoughts, then lifted her head to peer at him. He stared back, his gaze traveling over her face in a caress that she could almost feel. Her lips parted slightly of their own accord when his eyes settled there and Claire felt her breathing become more swift and shallow with anticipation. She was finally, finally going to be kissed by Kyle Lockhart, Claire thought, almost faint at the prospect. But, rather than kiss her, Kyle used a hand to urge her head back to his chest.

Claire sighed and tried to relax against him, but her mind was on the fact that he’d passed up the perfect opportunity to kiss her.

Why? She wondered. What was wrong with her? Was it her figure? Perhaps if she had larger breasts…

Claire stumbled in the dance and blinked in surprise as her neck was suddenly forced to bend farther forward to keep her head on Kyle’s chest. For a moment she didn’t understand what had happened, then she realized her breasts had suddenly grown between them, like two balloons inflating.

“Er…Claire?” Kyle said uncertainly, apparently noticing something was amiss.

“Oh God,” Claire breathed and squeezed her eyes closed, thinking Go away, go away, go away.

“Claire?” Kyle pulled back and she forced her eyes open, relieved to find her chest normal-sized again.

“Yes?” She raised her head to his, but Kyle was peering at her cleavage with confusion.

After a moment, he shook his head. “I thought—”

“Kyle! Is that you?”

Claire and Kyle broke apart to peer at the excited man suddenly standing beside them.

“It is you!” the man said. He had boyish good looks and a full head of dark hair, but was almost painfully short at a couple of inches less than five feet. It was his height that helped Claire to recognize him right away.

“Bobby Loth,” she said, happy for the distraction.

“Claire! You remember me!” he said with surprised pleasure.

“Of course, I do.” Claire smiled. Bobby had been in the science club with them; intelligent and good-humored, he’d been a good friend in high school.

“Who could forget you, Bobby?” Kyle asked lightly. “How are you, old friend.”

“Good.” Bobby beamed as they shook hands, then stepped back to catch the arm of a petite brunette waiting shyly a step behind him. “This is my wife, Meredith. Meredith, this is Kyle and Claire.”

Claire and Kyle smiled and said hello. The four of them stood talking on the dance floor for several minutes, before moving to collect their drinks and settle at a table together. The conversation continued, but Claire was slightly distracted as she kept one eye on the wire-covered clock on the wall. As pleasant as she found the interlude with Bobby and his wife, Claire just couldn’t relax. It was almost a relief when it was time to leave. At least it meant an end to her tense waiting.

Excusing herself—ostensibly to visit the ladies’ room—Claire slipped from the table and made her escape.

“Right on time,” Jill said cheerfully as Claire slid into the front passenger seat of her car a moment later. She was obviously looking forward to what was to come. Claire wasn’t. There were too many things that could go wrong.

“Thanks,” she murmured as Jill handed her the photos. She handed back the snapshot of herself, then took the picture of Brad Cruise they’d ripped out of the magazine and hesitated as she squinted at it in the dark. “I don’t suppose you brought a flashlight or something?”