WITH MIXED FEELINGS swirling in her chest, Janine watched Derek’s broad-shouldered frame walk out the door. She was off the hook. She could leave now and Steve would never know she’d been there. Derek had said he wouldn’t mention the incident, and for some odd reason, she believed him. His seriousness had struck her—he was a man with a lot of responsibility. What had he said? That he’d left at a busy time to attend a ceremony he didn’t believe in?

      Actually, she should be feeling nothing but giddy relief. Instead, she had the most unsettling sensation that something…important…had just slipped through her fingers…

      Janine shook herself back to the present. She still had tomorrow night—technically, tonight—after the rehearsal dinner to broach the issue of having sex with Steve. Leaning over to massage her heel, she acknowledged she might have to regroup and come up with a different outfit, but Marie would think of something.

      She headed toward the pay phones, threading her way through the people in the lobby. She was tempted to offer assistance to the medics, but they seemed to have everything under control, and she was still feeling the effects of the wine. Tomorrow morning—correction, in a few hours—she’d call that nice Mr. Oliver to make certain the problem had been resolved. The last thing she needed was to have the entire wedding party food-poisoned at the rehearsal dinner. Her mother was already on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

      She picked up the phone and redialed the apartment using her memorized calling-card number. Her sister answered on the first ring.

      “Marie, thank God you’re home.”

      “I just walked in the door. I stopped on the way home to pick up pineapple juice. Why aren’t you, um, busy?”

      “Because Steve’s not here.”

      “What? But he answered the phone when you called.”

      “No, his best man answered the phone. Steve gave the guy his room because the man was sick and didn’t feel like going out with everyone else.” She waited for the revelation to sink in and was rewarded with a gasp.

      “You mean, you greeted the best man wearing that pink getup?”

      Janine relived her humiliation yet again. “Noooooo. I mean, I crawled into bed with the best man wearing this pink getup.”

      For once, she had achieved the impossible—Marie was struck speechless.

      “Marie, are you there?”

      “Are you saying—” her sister make a strangled noise “—that you put a stroke on the best man?”

      “No!” she snapped. “We sort of realized the mistake, Marie.”

      “At what point?”

      Janine remembered the kiss and experienced her first all-body blush—not completely unpleasant—then leaned against the enclosure. “My virtue is intact.”

      “Unbelievable! See, exciting things do happen to you.”

      “Really? Humiliating was the first word that came to my mind.”

      “Isn’t your best man that dreamy Jack Stillman?”

      “He was. But Jack disappeared, so Steve asked Jack’s brother, Derek, to stand in.”

      “Is he gorgeous too? And single?”

      Her head had started to throb again. “Marie, I didn’t call to discuss the Stillman gene pool. I called to see if you would come to pick me up. I left my purse under the front seat of your car and I have no money and no key.”

      “Well, sure I’ll come back, but don’t you want to wait for Steve?”

      “I don’t think so.” She wasn’t sure she could go through with her plan to seduce Steve with the memory of another man’s mouth on hers so fresh in her mind.

      “You lost your buzz, ergo your nerve.”

      “Well—”

      “Janine, if you come home, you won’t be any closer to the answer you went for.”

      The sick feeling of anguish settled in her stomach again, but she appreciated her sister’s objectivity, quirky as it was. “You’re right, but Derek said the guys are supposed to be out all night.”

      “Okay, so you wait in Steve’s room until morning.” Marie laughed. “That is, unless you think he won’t do it in the daylight.”

      Janine tried to smile, but she felt too disjointed to respond.

      “Oh, wait,” her sister said. “You said that the best man is staying in Steve’s room.”

      “No,” Janine said morosely. “He left.”

      “Left to go to another hotel?”

      “No,” she said, swinging her gaze toward the revolving door. Flashing lights outside the front entrance caught her attention. Two ambulances and several police cars had arrived, along with a van that bore a familiar insignia: the Centers for Disease Control. A knot of people stood outside, as if in conference, and she recognized the general manager she’d been talking to earlier as one them. The revolving door turned and, to her amazement, Derek walked back in, his expression as dark as a thundercloud.

      “He’s back,” she said into the phone.

      “Steve?”

      “No, Derek. Hang on a minute, sis. Something is happening in the lobby.” With every turn of the door, more and more suited and uniformed personnel filtered into the lobby of the hotel. Mr. Oliver walked in, and his smooth face seemed especially serious.

      A terrible sense of foreboding enveloped her. Janine waved at Derek and motioned him toward her. He seemed none too pleased to see her again, but he did walk toward where she stood, his gait long and agitated.

      “What’s going on?” she whispered.

      Derek gestured in the air above his head. “I don’t know. A deputy said I couldn’t leave and asked me to come back inside.”

      A man in a dark suit and no tie lifted a small bullhorn to his mouth. “Could I have your attention, please?”

      The lobby quieted, and for the first time, Janine realized just how crowded the expansive space had become. Her lungs squeezed and she breathed as steadily as she could, trying to hedge the feeling of claustrophobia. Standing next to Derek didn’t help because his big body crowded her personal space. She stepped as far away from him as the metal phone cord would allow, which garnered her a sharp look from his brown eyes. With much effort, she resisted the urge to explain and gave the doctor her full attention.

      The man had paused for effect, sweeping his gaze over the room. “My name is Dr. Marco Pedro, and I’m with the Centers for Disease Control here in Atlanta. As you can see, several dozen people have been stricken with an illness we are still trying to identify. With a recent outbreak of E. coli contagion on the west side of town, we can’t be too careful.”

      Janine’s knees weakened with dread. Because of her medical training, she knew what the man’s next words would be.

      “So, until further notice,” Dr. Pedro continued, “guests cannot leave the premises. Every individual in this facility is officially under quarantine.”