A HALF HOUR LATER, SHE'D CHANGED INTO A PAIR OF WHITE linen slacks, white sandals, and a lilac silk shirt that she'd knotted in the front at the waist, and they were on the way to the family house on Inwood Drive.

Because she still was feeling a tad under the weather, Cole took the wheel of her car, and as he drove along familiar boulevards lined with gracious mansions set back among the trees, he felt a strong sense of déjà vu combined with a feeling of total unreality. Of all the bizarre, unpredictable twists and turns his life had taken in the years since he'd last driven down these streets, the oddest by far was to return here with Diana Foster sitting beside him—as his wife.

Oblivious to the direction of his thoughts, Diana was concentrating on the best way to break the news to her family. Somehow, she had to portray an optimism she didn't completely feel and simultaneously convince them that last night's marriage was not only sane but ideal.

She was working out her strategy, rehearsing her opening speech, and deciding on the right location to give it when Cole reached into the inside pocket of his navy blazer and extracted a folded sheet of hotel stationery. As he handed it across to her, he said in a businesslike voice, "While you were sleeping this morning, I wrote out a summary of the terms of our verbal agreement. Basically, it sets out that our marriage will last for one year. At the end of that period, we will obtain a quiet, amicable divorce with neither of us making any financial claims against the other."

A bicyclist was in the middle of their lane when they rounded a curve, and Cole paused as he went around her; then he continued, "Naturally, any gifts we give each other, such as our wedding rings or the necklace I bought you last night, will remain the property of the recipient."

"Wedding rings?" Diana echoed blankly. "What wedding rings?"

He reached into the outside pocket of his jacket and extracted two plain, wide gold bands, holding them toward her in his palm. "These wedding rings."

"When did you get those?"

"The Silver Bells Wedding Chapel is a fully equipped, full-service establishment. I bought them there from the owner, and we exchanged them during the ceremony." With a sigh of mock dismay he chided, "How quickly some of us forget the tender, poignant moments in life."

Diana took the smaller of the two rings from his palm and held it between thumb and forefinger, puzzled by his description of the event as poignant and tender. "Was it a tender moment?" she asked, peering at his profile.

A smile quirked his lips. "You seemed to think it was. You cried during most of the ceremony."

"I always cry a little bit at weddings," Diana admitted ruefully.

"At your own wedding," he ungallantly said, "you cried so hard you had to stop twice to blow your nose."

Diana's initial horror gave way to a sudden burst of hilarity at the picture of a drunken bride in a purple gown bawling her heart out and blowing her nose. She slumped down in her seat, her body quaking with laughter. "Before the ceremony, you were deeply distressed about the decor." Diana laughed harder.

A few moments later, however, Cole's brisk words made her sober and straighten. "Look over my list, and see if you have any questions or comments," he instructed.

Diana unfolded the sheet of paper and read what he'd written. His handwriting was a bold scrawl, and yet it was remarkably legible.

"It's pretty straightforward."

"Very," Diana murmured.

"Your attorney can use it to draw up the formal document. As soon as it's drafted, have it faxed to me at my home in Dallas."

With his left palm on the steering wheel, he took a slender wallet out of his pocket and extracted a white business card from it. He handed his card to her, and Diana realized with a twinge of alarm that she'd actually married a man whose phone number and address she did not know.

"Do you have an attorney whom you can trust to handle your end of this discreetly and quickly?"

Diana couldn't possibly turn this over to the sedate law firm that represented Foster Enterprises. Lawyers gossiped among themselves, and even if she had the nerve to confess what she'd done to one of those lawyers, she couldn't trust them to keep the titillating information completely confidential. The only attorney she could trust, personally and professionally, was Doug Hayward. Doug had given up law for politics and in a real legal battle, he'd be no match for the kind of attorneys Cole was likely to have, but this wasn't a battle, this was a simple agreement.

Postnuptial agreements had become fairly common, she knew, though she was pretty certain they were usually preceded by prenuptials. According to what she'd read and heard, wealthy middle-aged people with children from an earlier marriage, or charitable bequests to protect, frequently used them when they remarried because they held up much better than prenuptials in court.

Charles Hayward, Doug's father, would probably know lots of friends who'd used them, and he'd have good advice to offer Diana and Doug. His advice and help had been invaluable to Diana after her father died.

"I know someone," she said after a prolonged moment.

Cole turned off Inwood onto the long tree-lined drive that led to the house Diana had lived in when he knew her as a young girl, and he saw several cars in front of the house. "It looks like your family has a lot of company."

"The Explorer is Corey's and the BMW is Spence's. Spence is here because we try to have Sunday dinner as a family when we can. The other cars belong to Corey's assistants. Corey's redoing a shoot she wasn't happy with."