Maxwell stared into the black velvet box cradled in the palm of his hand. Shifting the box, he watched the iridescent beams of sunlight dance across his desk.

Two clear two-carat diamonds flanked the center stone, a six-carat canary diamond. The uniqueness and beauty of the triple princess cut ring captured his attention.

Much like Fran, he thought with a smile.

His mind wandered back to the night he was ready to commit to Fran fully and honestly. A gang of thugs thwarted his perfectly laid plan of proposing to her in front of their family and friends. They took everything but mercifully spared him his life.

When Fran found him amongst the garbage behind the theatre, it was not the ideal place for him to propose nor was the soda can tab his ideal ring, but it sufficed.

Now that their twentieth anniversary was fast approaching, he had an opportunity to make things right. Setting the box on his desk, Maxwell picked up the phone and dialed home.

"Sheffield residence."

"Good afternoon Robert. Is my wife home?"

"Yes sir, she just came in."

"Good. Before you call her to the phone, would you do me a favor?"

"Certainly Mr. Sheffield."

Maxwell hesitated. He liked the idea initially but having one of the servants involved, even at a minimal, seemed like he was granting access to their personal lives.

"Mr. Sheffield? Are you there?"

"Oh yes. Sorry Robert. I was wondering...instead of telling Mrs. Sheffield I'm on the you instead...tell her that the caller didn't give his name and that he asked to speak to Ms. Fine?"

Robert smirked. He could almost see Maxwell's flushed, embarrassed face. Stifling his amusement, he replied, "Of course Mr. Sheffield. One moment."

Maxwell hit the button for the speakerphone. Raking his fingers through his hair, he wondered how he'd face the house staff again when he heard Fran's cautious voice across the speaker. Forgetting his embarrassment, a smile crossed his face as he picked up the receiver.

"Ms. Fine?"

She answered him with a soft, sexy, "Yes."

"My name is Maxwell Sheffield. We've never met but I've seen you around the neighborhood. I hope you don't think I'm some kind of stalker but I was wondering if you are free for dinner this evening."

"Well, this is awfully sudden. How do you know I don't have a boyfriend or a husband?"

"Oh Ms. Fine, - "

"Fran," she corrected.

Maxwell smiled. "If I call you Fran, I insist that you call me Max."

"Okay Max."

"Fran, please don't disappoint me. Tell me you don't have anyone special in your life?"

"Well, you could say that for the right man, I could be available."

"Does this mean you'll accept my dinner invitation?"

"You sound like a decent gentleman. How could I say no?"

"Wonderful. Do you like seafood?"

"I love seafood Max!"

He turned his chair to face the sunny Los Angeles skyline. Leaning back, Maxwell drummed his fingers gently on the desk.

"I happen to know a fabulous restaurant that serves the best seafood on the west coast. Shall I pick you up at seven?"

"Seven is perfect. How should I dress? I mean is this place casual or is it a fancy schmancy restaurant?"

"It's a bit on the fancy schmancy side."

"Oh, okay. I'll see you tonight."

"At seven sharp."

"Max?"

"Yes Fran?"

"Don't you need my address? I mean how are you going to pick me up?"

"Oh yes. I'd forgotten that. Let me grab a pen." His grin widened as he wrote their address on a note pad. "Until tonight Fran."

"Until tonight Max."

Locking her ring in his safe, Maxwell spent his lunch hour purchasing a new shirt and suit for his date with Fran.

He stopped in the Godiva boutique and bought a half-pound box of chocolates. Maxwell decided to wait and purchase flowers for her before he picked her up for their date.

Fran sank down in the jacuzzi, letting the pulsating bubbles massage her body. She had been positively giddy all afternoon.

Every since his phone call, Fran practically floated through the house. Her mind wandered to her date with Maxwell.

What was he planning? Maybe it has to do with our twentieth anniversary. Twenty years. I can't believe Max and I have been married for twenty years! Where has the time gone?

Jonah and Eve will be nineteen. Niles and CC as well as Maggie and Michael will be celebrating their nineteenth anniversary.

Sara and MJ will be thirteen and ten respectively. Brighton and Laurie are expecting their first child in August, and Gracie has been dating a fellow psychologist for the last six months.

With a blissful sigh, Fran closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the water envelop her.

An hour and a half later, Fran descended the staircase wearing a navy blue embroidered halter dress. Jonah and Eve did a double take when she stepped into the living room.

"Wow. Ma, you look beautiful," said Eve.

"Yeah mom," Jonah agreed, "you look very pretty. Where are you going?"

"I have a date."

"Oh?" Folding his arms across his chest, Jonah asked, "And just where is your date taking you?"

"If you must know Sylvia, he's taking me to dinner."

Eve's body shook as her laughter enveloped the room. When Jonah glared at her, she attempted to cover her amusement with a coughing spell.

"Why are you and dad going on a date anyway? I mean, isn't dating for people who want to get to know each other before they get married?"

Cupping his chin, Fran replied, "You've got a lot to learn about relationships young man." The doorbell rang as she applied a coat of lipstick. "Oh no, my date's here!"

Eve nudged Jonah. "Come on. Let's give ma and her date some privacy."

Grumbling about the absurdity of married people dating, he followed his sister into the kitchen. Snapping her compact shut, Fran ran her hand over her body to smooth down her dress. When she opened the door, Maxwell greeted her with a wide smile.

"Fran?"

"Max?"

His eyes swept over the clingy halter dress. Regaining his composure, Maxwell said, "You look...magnificent."

"Thank you," Fran said blushing under his gaze. "You look very handsome yourself."

"These are for you," he said presenting her with a bouquet of mixed flowers and a box of chocolates.

"Oh Max, they're beautiful."

"Not as beautiful as you." He lifted her arm and pressed his lips lightly to the back of her hand.

"Let me put the flowers in some water and then I'll be ready to go."

She dashed into the kitchen and asked Robert to put the flowers in a vase. When she returned to the living room, Maxwell was standing in the doorway with her shawl.

Draping the wrap over her shoulders, he offered his arm and said, "Shall we?"

"Of course," she replied and linked her arm with his.

With the exception of Fran asking Maxwell where they were going and him providing a vague response, the ride to Newport Beach was quiet. In the comfortable familiar silence, Maxwell took her hand and laced their fingers together.

The maitre d' escorted them to a semi private table on the terrace. The balcony was set off the dining room, offering a picturesque view of the marina as the sun dipped into the horizon.

After the waiter introduced himself, Maxwell perused the wine list and ordered a bottle of champagne to compliment the salmon and caviar appetizers.

Keeping up the pretense of their date, Maxwell said, "So Fran, tell me about your self."

"What would you like to know?"

"Where you're from, what you do for a living, the usual first date stuff."

Fran waited until after the waiter set up the champagne and appetizers, and took their order for dinner before answering Maxwell.

"I'm originally from New York."

"Oh? Where in New York?"

A bright smile lit up her face. "Queens."

"Ah, that explains your delightful and unique accent."

Fran arched her eyebrow. "Compliment or insult?"

"Fran," he said feigning a hurt look, "I would never insult you."

"Speaking of accents, you're from England aren't you?"

Maxwell smiled and replied, "Yes I am."

He took a sip of champagne, watching her the entire time. Picking up an appetizer, Maxwell placed the hors d'oeuvre on Fran's tongue. He watched her lips close around his fingers as she devoured the appetizer.

"Mmm, delicious. I wonder what's coming up next."

He cleared his throat, amused by her double entendre. Fran held out her hand, offering Maxwell an appetizer.

He nibbled on the toast point, his teeth and tongue grazing her fingers as he savored each bite. As he swallowed the last of the hors d'oeuvre, Maxwell could hear the heaviness of her breath.

"Almost makes you want to get this to go, doesn't it?"

Fran nodded, vaguely aware of how she sounded. "Uh huh."

Their eyes locked, each reading the others mirrored thought. The sound of a discreet cough brought their attention back into focus. The waiter went about his duty of removing the appetizers from the table.

Setting their meal before them, he asked, "Will there be anything else?"

"No. Thank you Geoffrey."

Cracking open a crab leg, Fran asked, "Do you think we scared him?"

"To be honest, I could care less. I am sitting in a horribly expensive restaurant, dining on a fabulous meal with a gorgeous view. And the sunset is nice too," he concluded with a wink. Watching her dive into her meal, Maxwell said, "You never did tell me what you do for a living Fran."

"Actually I work with a lot of different charities. I help with fund raising, organizing, things of that nature."

"Really? You seem suited to that kind of work."

"Why do you say that?"

Maxwell paused then replied, "You have a generous and trusting nature."

"And you can tell that from a brief conversation?"

"Would you be sitting here having dinner with me if you didn't have a generous and trusting nature?"

"You have a point." Taking a sip of wine, Fran said, "So what do you do for a living Max?"

"I'm a television producer."

"So you hobnob with a lot of rich and famous people?"

"I have on occasion hobnobbed with the rich and famous. But it's not all what it's cracked up to be. How are the crab legs?"

"Delicious." Spearing a chunk of crabmeat, Fran held it out to Maxwell. "Here. Try some."

He closed his eyes, savoring the tender flaky meat on his tongue. "Mmm. You're right. It's delicious. Care for a sample of lobster?"

"This can't be good."

"What?"

"That you know my weakness and we've just met."

Maxwell laughed. "I feel like I've known you forever."

"Oh you're good," Fran replied with a smile.

Leaning forward, Maxwell held out a chunk of lobster on his fork. "I can't wait for you to find out how good I really am."

He watched her slowly devour the lobster from his fork. Maxwell drew in a soft breath as her tongue licked the melted butter from her lips. His mind shifted, wanting to abandon their culinary foreplay and head straight to bed.

"Maxwell? Are you listening to me?"

"What? Oh, sorry darling. I was just...thinking about what a magnificent time I'm having with you tonight."

"Darling? That's a very affectionate and personal term for two people on a first date."

Maxwell stared blankly at Fran until he realized what happened. He slipped out of their game.

"You're right Fran. It was very forward of me. I hope you'll forgive me."

"Did I say I mind?" she asked winking at him.

"You're a very precocious woman," he said resuming his meal. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Anything you'd like."

"Would either of you be interested in dessert?" Geoffrey asked as he cleared their plates. "We have an assortment of mini cheesecakes. I highly recommend the chocolate black cherry cheesecake. Its crust is made with a thin layer of double chocolate sponge cake."

"Sold!" At Maxwell's grin, Fran said, "What? He had me at cheesecake."

"And for you sir?"

"Just coffee."

Geoffrey returned, placing a cup of coffee in front of Maxwell and the sumptuous dessert in front of Fran.

"That looks delicious Fran."

Waving a chunk of cheesecake with her fork, Fran asked, "Are you sure I can't tempt you with a piece?"

"I'm sure. Besides, I have a feeling you don't exactly share when it comes to cheesecake."

Sipping his coffee, Maxwell watched Fran consume her dessert. As the last morsel disappeared into her mouth, she closed her eyes and savored the cheesecake.

"That was heavenly." When she opened her eyes, Fran couldn't help but smile at the open expression of desire on Maxwell's face. "Max? Are you all right?"

He shifted in his chair. Clearing his throat, Maxwell replied, "I'm fine. Would you care to take a spin on the dance floor?"

"I'd love to."

Taking her by the hand, Maxwell and Fran maneuvered their way through the crowd and found a spot on the dance floor. He folded her in his arms as they swayed to the soft music wafting through the room.

Fran drew him closer, resting her head on his shoulder. As they moved across the dance floor, she watched the other couples dancing in the dimness of the room.

Bringing his ear down to her lips, she whispered, "You dance divinely."

"You're a pretty good dancer yourself."

As they swayed to the music, her mind wandered to a more intimate dance. Fran stopped then pulled slightly from his embrace.

"Take me home Maxwell."

He nodded, unsure of his voice. When they neared the table, Fran excused herself while Maxwell settled the bill.

Entering the ladies' room, she closed her eyes and leaned against the sink. A smile crossed her face as she thought about her husband.

The man still makes me weak in the knees after all these years.

Maxwell was standing by the bar, checking his watch when Fran reappeared. Offering his arm, he escorted her to the elevator.

Their limo was waiting for them when they exited the restaurant. Settling in the back of the car, Fran turned in her seat to face Maxwell.

"Thank you for inviting me to dinner and dancing. I had a marvelous time."

"You're welcome Fran. I had a splendid time as well."

Maxwell stared at her. He longed to kiss Fran but his body was a mass of nerves. In spite of both of them briefly stepping out of their roles, they acted out their respective parts well.

Was it the influence of our game? He wasn't sure what it was but it had him on edge.

"Are you okay Max?"

"Yes. No. I don't know."

"What's wrong?"

"You're going to think this is silly but I – I want to kiss you desperately."

Fran moved closer to Maxwell. A current of electricity passed through them when her thigh brushed against his.

"I don't think that's silly at all. I think it's rather sweet."

He flashed a shy, boyish grin. "May I?"

"Yes."

Maxwell's tongue swiped his lips as he drew her in his arms. Brushing her lips with a hesitant kiss, he pulled away from her and stared into her dark eyes.

He saw the familiar spark of desire in her eyes; the same spark he witnessed each time they kissed. He reached for her again, parting his lips in anticipation of tasting her once more.

Their lips met and as their kiss grew fervent, he wrapped his arms around her body. Fran's fingers combed through Maxwell's hair, his mouth parting under the gentle caress of her tongue.

A rush of desire consumed him as Fran's moan reverberated against his chest. Maxwell used the opportunity to deepen their kiss. They explored each other's mouths, their tongues seeking and retreating playfully.

In desperate need of air, they parted, both panting heavily. Maxwell sank back against the seat, willing his body to reign in his desire for Fran.

His soul, his entire being, screamed out an automatic need to become one with her body. He looked over at Fran who was fanning herself with her hand. Sensing his eyes, she turned to face him.

"That was an amazing kiss. You are an incredible kisser."

"Thank you. I'm glad we were sitting down."

"Why?"

"If we were standing up, I would have fallen." She brushed her fingers across his lips, wiping her lipstick from his mouth. "Your kisses leave me weak in the knees."

He slipped his arms around her waist. "I would never let you fall."

Maxwell brushed his lips against Fran's, capturing her mouth in a fiery, passionate kiss. Drawing her into his body, she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her fingers in his thick salt and pepper strands.

His weight shifted and she felt herself falling as he pressed her body into the leather cushion. As his lips trailed softly down her neck, Fran pushed slightly against his chest. She waited until Maxwell met her dark sparkling eyes before she spoke.

"Before we go any further, you should know that I don't usually do this on first dates."

"Do what?"

"Invite a man I just met into my house, into my bed." She reached up and caressed his face with the tips of her fingers. "But there's something about you Max that makes me trust you."

"Maybe I intrigue you." When Fran smiled, he continued. "I've been fascinated by you from the moment I first laid eyes on you."

"Intrigued doesn't scratch the surface. I'm attracted to you Max."

"I'm attracted to you too Fran."

"Mr. Sheffield? We're here sir."

"Thank you Matthew." He looked at Fran and said, "You're lucky. I almost did something ungentlemanly and took advantage of you."

A light smile played across her lips. "Does that mean my virtue will be safe once we step through the door?"

"Certainly not! I plan on ravishing you."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth fully against her own.

"Well as long as we're on the same page."

Fran and Maxwell stepped silently into the dimly lit living room. Maneuvering their way pass the furniture, she switched on the security system then took him by the hand and led him upstairs.

After he closed the door, Maxwell watched the sway of her hips as she walked across the room. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Fran curled her finger and motioned him to her.

He made his way over to her and settled beside her on the bed. Sliding his palm under her jaw, Maxwell pressed his body next hers. His mouth was so close to her own that Fran felt the warmth of his breath on her lips.

"Shall we continue where we left off in the limo?"

She nodded her head slowly. "I'd like that very much."

He drew her face to his, placing a light whisper of a kiss on her lips. Fran captured his mouth as she pushed his jacket off his shoulders.

Fran smiled. "I think I've fallen madly in love with you Maxwell Sheffield."

"Not me." At her confused look, Maxwell returned her smile and replied, "I know I've already fallen madly in love with you."