As she'd promised, dinner was ready in only a few minutes. Riley couldn't remember a meal he enjoyed more. The steak, juicy and succulent, was cooked to perfection. The salad, crammed full of sliced fresh vegetables was a small work of art. The piecrust seemed to melt in his mouth. He complimented her again and again. Hannah blushed with pleasure each time.
Sweet promise filled Riley's heart. Later, perhaps this very night, he told himself, he'd approach her about sleeping in his room. He wouldn't pressure her into anything physical, he promised himself. He'd go out of his way to be sure she understood that he'd be content to hold her in his arms. When she was ready for love-making, she should let him know. They'd go slow and easy, and she could write her own ticket as far as the physical part of their marriage went. It sounded reasonable, and he felt good about it, waiting for just the right moment to make the suggestion.
The right moment never came.
About halfway through their dinner something changed. For the life of him, Riley didn't know what. Hannah grew quiet. One moment she was chattering like a magpie and the next she went still and silent. Not understanding what was happening, Riley made up for the lack of conversation, conscious of the abrupt change in her mood the entire time he was speaking. In an effort to cover the uncomfortable silence he told the details of what he was allowed to relate about the cruise and his job, filling in the everyday particulars of his life aboard the nuclear-powered submarine. She seemed genuinely interested in what he described, and asked questions, but he couldn't shake the feeling he'd said or done something terribly wrong.
After dinner she quickly washed up the dishes, refusing his help. "I'm going to bed now," she announced stiffly, then disappeared into her bedroom, closing the door.
Riley was left standing in the kitchen, stunned. Mentally he retraced everything that had passed between them for something, anything that might offend her. He could think of nothing. Not one damn thing. An altar boy couldn't have faulted his behavior. Hell, he was so much in love with her he would have cut out his tongue rather than hurt her.