Off to the side, between the dining table and the chairs for the wedding guests was a rounded waist-high object covered now with a dark blue velvet cloth that hung to the carpeted floor. Stein noticed her staring at it. “Ah, yes,” he chuckled, “we’ve discreetly hidden your pre-nuptial couch, the exact place where you first realized that you wanted to be Richie’s woman.” He winked at her. Crossing to place a hand on the covering he asked, “Would you like to see it again?”
“No!” she said quickly. “I never want to see it again.”
“But both Richie and I expect that you will and, I think, so do you.” He waited for her to respond. She looked away. “Oh well, time enough for that. A lifetime, in fact,” he laughed again. It was clear that he enjoyed tormenting her.
Stella bustled into the room,
