Lady Be Good

  “What in the hell are you doing here?”

  “Your father let me in. I was invited for dinner, but I had a business meeting, and I couldn’t get away.”

  Shelby hadn’t told her that Dexter was invited. One more betrayal.

  He pushed his hands into his pockets and gazed up at the sky. She caught a whiff of his cologne. It smelled crisp and clean as the air. “What a beautiful night.”

  Something like awe resonated in his voice, as if the clear, starlit night was magical instead of something rather ordinary. She had to force herself not to look up to see what she’d missed. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “I’m getting sick of this, Dexter. There are laws against stalking.”

  “I’m hardly stalking you, Victoria. I didn’t know you were going to be at the Roustabout last night. And tonight I had an invitation.”

  “Let me be a little clearer. I don’t like you, and I don’t ever want to talk to you again.”

  “In point of fact, we’re not well-acquainted enough for you to dislike me. You know, if you could stop being so frightened by this situation, our entire problem-solving process would be a lot easier.”

  “Frightened? Of a dweeb like you? Don’t flatter yourself.”

  “If you weren’t frightened, you’d be anxious to talk to me so we could get this sorted out.”

  He was right, but she would never admit it. “There isn’t anything to sort out. I don’t want to marry you! I can’t make it any plainer.”

  He looked up at the sky, then tilted his head as if he wanted to star-gaze from a different angle. She couldn’t help but notice the clean, strong lines of his profile. He had a broad forehead, a well-shaped nose, and a mouth that was rather alarmingly sensual. The surprise of his mouth, combined with his composure in the face of her turbulent emotions, infuriated her.

  “You know what I think? I think you cooked this whole thing up yourself. You want me, but you know I’d never look twice at a nerd like you, so you came up with this whole scheme, then convinced your father to go along with it.”

  He looked mildly startled. “Is that what you believe?”

  “You’re damned right I do.”

  “Fascinating.”

  As he wandered over to the banquette, she found herself studying the shoulders beneath that rumpled oxford shirt. They weren’t overly broad, but they were solid-looking.

  He turned back, and she had the weird feeling that he could read her mind. “In fact, this was your father’s idea.”

  “Yeah, right,” she scoffed.

  He pushed his hands in his pockets, stretching his slacks over a very firm abdomen. “Contrary to what you seem to think, it really hasn’t been all that difficult for me to find female companionship.” He walked over to sit on the banquette and stretch out his legs. “As for my father . . .” For a moment, she thought she saw amusement in his eyes, but that was impossible since he had no sense of humor. “To be frank, he’s not all that fond of you. But he does want the merger, and your father made it very clear this was the only way he’d agree to it.”

  She sucked in her breath. “You’re lying! Do you really think I’ll believe this was my father’s idea?”

  Again, the glimmer in his eyes that, on anyone else, could only have been amusement. “Apparently he’s desperate to get rid of you.”

  She wanted to go for his throat, just as she’d done last night, but she felt too frozen to move. How could he even suggest her father was behind this? It was his father! It had to be.

  “If you and your brother had been willing to talk with me last night,” he said quietly, “I could have explained all this.”

  Her heart was beating so hard she wanted to press her hands to her chest to keep her skin from splitting. “Daddy would never have proposed something so horrible on his own. I don’t know why you’re lying. All I have to do is ask him.”

  “I hope you do. You’ll find out that Warren is the one who’s doing the blackmailing, and I’m the ransom. If Dad wants the merger, he has to turn me over.”

  “Ransom!” Sparks shimmered behind her eyelids. “Listen here, you bozo! Marrying me would be the highlight of your sorry life!”

  He looked thoughtful. “That’s highly debatable. It’s true that you’re quite beautiful, but you’re also a very difficult woman.”

  Torie tried to absorb the fact that Dexter O’Conner, the biggest nerd in Wynette, Texas, might not want her. “I am not!”

  “You’re a two-time loser at marriage,” he said slowly. “You have an unstable family background. You cuss like a man. I’m sure you could beat me at whatever sport you put your mind to. And you smoke, which I detest, even though I understand it’s a sign of how little regard you have for yourself.” He paused, and his voice grew strangely gentle. “You also don’t seem to be able to have children.”

  She felt as if she’d been struck. “You prick.” Her voice sounded tight and forced. “Who told you that?”

  He stood and walked toward her, stopping several feet away. “Wynette’s a small town.”

  “Get out of here.”

  “I’m not trying to hurt you.” He spoke with a gentleness that sounded too much like pity. “But I don’t play games, and it’s only right that I tell you I’d very much like to have children.”

  A sting of tears prickled behind her eyes, but she refused to let them form. “Then it’s a good thing you’re not marrying me because I’m as barren as the Sahara, you son of a bitch!”

  “That’s not what your father told me. He said there’s no medical reason why you can’t conceive. Shelby believes it’s simply a case of your body waiting for the right man to come along. Improbable, but then who’s to say?”

  She barely pushed the words through the constriction in her throat. “They discussed this with you?”

  “It came up.”

  She felt so betrayed she couldn’t speak. Shelby had once been her best friend. As for her father . . . for years, he had been the only safe harbor in her life. And then Shelby had seduced him and pushed Torie into the background. Now her father wanted Torie removed from his daily existence so he could concentrate on his new family. Ironic that Kenny, the evil tormentor of her childhood, had become the only dependable person in her life.

  Pride kicked in, and she lifted her head. “For someone who’s so repulsed by the idea of marrying me, you certainly seemed to have asked a lot of questions.”

  “I didn’t say I was repulsed. I happen to be strongly attracted to you.”

  His words were a small Band-Aid over her open wounds, enough for her to curl her lip and scoff. “Like that’s a news flash.”

  He smiled. “It’s the strangest thing. I’m not a violent man, but ever since Ted made that remark yesterday about somebody needing to swat you, I keep having this recurring image of you turned bottom-up over my lap.”

  A rush of heat shot through Torie’s bloodstream. She didn’t like it one bit, so she sneered, “Am I wearing clothes?”

  He seemed to be thinking it over. “A full skirt tossed over your head. Panties draped around one ankle.”

  The heat inside her jumped ten degrees, and she realized the biggest nerd in Wynette, Texas, had just turned her on. She felt disoriented. She was supposed to be the outrageous one. At the same time, she couldn’t let him know that he’d outmaneuvered her. “What’s it going to be, Dex? Do you want to marry me or not?”

  “I’m not certain. Probably not. On the other hand, there is that attraction. Still, I resent being manipulated this way by your father.”

  “Finally, we agree on something.”

  “Yes, well, I could have told you that at the beginning if you hadn’t decided to approach this situation emotionally instead of logically.”

  “All right, Mr. Logic, what’s your solution?”

  “It’s really very simple. That’s what I was trying to tell you last night. We need to spend time with each other. Neither of us can convince your father to back off if we h
aven’t even made the effort to see if we can get along.”

  “How can we get along? We don’t have a single thing in common.”

  “Are you forgetting the sexual attraction?”

  “You’re the one with the sexual attraction! I think you’re a dweeb.”

  He lifted his hand and stared down at it. “It’s the most incredible thing—my palm is actually itching. I never imagined I would have the urge to spank a woman.”

  Again, that little thrill of excitement. Maybe Dex wasn’t quite as boring as she’d thought. “Yeah, well, it’d take you and the entire Dallas Cowboys’ defensive line to pull it off.”

  “I’m stronger than I look, Victoria.”

  “Will you stop calling me that!”

  “Will you stop smoking cigarettes?”

  “No!”

  “Very well . . . Victoria.”

  Something inside her snapped, and she lunged for him. She couldn’t help it. He was so smug, so superior and condescending that she wanted to bash his face in, but she’d settle for hurling him into the stucco wall.

  Unfortunately, as the heels of her hands slammed against his chest and he didn’t move, she realized it wasn’t going to be that easy. He caught her wrists. She gazed up into gray eyes flecked with green and experienced the uneasy sensation that he was peering through all her carefully erected defenses. The idea paralyzed her.

  She recovered only as she realized he was going to kiss her. Lots of men had wanted to do exactly that, so she wasn’t surprised. What surprised her was how much she wanted him to go through with it.

  Her eyelids drifted shut. Their bodies fit together. She felt his lean, hard chest pressing against her breasts. His lips brushed her cheek. She tilted her mouth toward his.

  “I can’t wait to kiss you,” he whispered. “But I want it to be perfect. We’ll finish this as soon as you don’t taste like cigarettes.”

  Her eyes shot open.

  He kissed the end of her nose, then set her aside as if she were a dear, but annoying, child. “I’ve given you my opinion of how we should go about this. Now it’s up to you.”

  After one last glance at the night sky, he left her alone.

  Chapter 12

  Emma was fuming by the time she’d finished breakfast. Once again, Kenny had left to practice before they’d made plans for the day. Her research schedule was falling sadly behind. He kept forgetting that he was supposed to be working for her.

  The phone rang twice, and a moment later Patrick called down from the second floor, “It’s for you, and I think I’m going to faint. The man says he’s a duke!”

  Finally! Beddington had heard about last night, and he was calling to break off the engagement! She flew across the kitchen, took a deep breath, and picked up the wall phone that hung near the counter. “Good morning, Your Grace.”

  “Emma, my dear, I’ve heard some distressing news.”

  Her muscles tensed with anticipation. This was it, then. Within minutes, she’d be free of him, and, if luck was with her, St. Gert’s would still be safe.

  “Word has reached me that you were seen purchasing a tabloid newspaper. A small point, I admit, but still troubling. I had no idea you read garbage like that.”

  She frowned. Buying a tabloid had been her least scandalous activity. What about the rest?

  She waited for him to mention the other purchases she’d made or comment on the fact that she’d misbehaved at the Roustabout. What about the fact that she’d kissed Kenny in front of the drugstore?

  “If you must read those awful rags, would you at least get someone else to buy them for you?”

  She held her breath and waited for him to comment on the pregnancy kit, the condoms, the lice shampoo!

  “I nearly forgot. My sister asked me to tell you that she’s found a gown for you to wear to the engagement party. She’ll have it waiting when you get back.”

  She sank down on one of the chintz-covered barstools at the counter, trying to think what to say. “Are—are you having me followed?”

  “Followed? Of course not. I simply have my sources.”

  “And that’s all your sources told you? That I bought a tabloid newspaper?”

  “I can’t think why you’d be interested in such drivel. Still, if that’s your worst sin, I’m sure I can live with it. Anne, my second wife, was fond of the tabloids.” There was a pause as he turned away from the receiver to speak with one of his aides. “I have to go, Emma; I have another call waiting. And from now on, please try to remember that whatever you do reflects on me.”

  He broke the connection before she could reply.

  The blueberry muffin she’d enjoyed for breakfast clotted in her stomach as she sat on the stool, receiver in her hand, telephone cord twisted around her fingers. How could he know about the tabloid, but not the rest of it? She tried to sort out her thoughts, but nothing made sense.

  Patrick came into the kitchen, eager to hear the details of Emma’s connection with a duke. She gave him a highly abridged version, and he was just beginning to press for more information when Torie entered from the front hallway. “Hey, Lady Emma. Let’s get hoppin’.”

  She wore white jeans along with a light blue T-shirt, and her fashionably untidy hair tumbled from a bright yellow banana clip at the crown of her head. She was also working away at a piece of gum.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Driving lesson.” Torie spit her gum into the trash and immediately pulled another stick out of her pocket.

  “I don’t have any desire to learn how to drive.”

  “I know, but you’re going to anyway.” She plopped the fresh piece in her mouth.

  “Really, Torie—”

  “Haul ass, Your Ladyship. My royal chariot’s waiting. Or are you chicken?”

  “Of course I’m chicken! Why do you think I’ve gone all these years without learning to drive?”

  “All you have to do is steer up and down Kenny’s driveway. You can steer, can’t you?”

  “Probably, but there’s no point.”

  “There’s always a point to spitting in the devil’s eye.” Torie’s familiar green eyes held a challenge.

  Patrick took Emma’s arm and drew her off the stool. “Do what she says, Lady Emma. Life’s too short to spend it bogged down by phobias.”

  Emma could fight one of them, but not both, without looking completely spineless. “All right,” she said reluctantly. “Up and down the drive. But that’s all.”

  It wasn’t all, of course. After half an hour in the drive, Torie somehow managed to bully her into pulling out onto the road by promising that hardly anyone ever used it.

  Emma found herself with wet palms and a damp T-shirt, driving a car with the steering on the wrong side. As her fingers gripped the wheel, she fought the memory of that terrifying day when she’d been ten and she’d watched a bright yellow lorry come barreling toward the car.

  She crept too close to the center line and jerked the wheel.

  “Relax,” Torie said. “You’re fingers are going to start cramping up.”

  “Stop cracking your gum!”

  “Damn, you’re cranky. By the way, in this country we drive on the right side of the road instead of the left.”

  “Oh, God!” Emma wrenched the wheel to the right, but didn’t straighten in time to keep the tires from biting into the gravel on the shoulder. Finally, she managed to maneuver the car into the proper lane. “You should have told me at once! I think I’m going to faint.”

  “Take deep breaths.”

  “I can’t believe you talked me into doing this! Oh, Lord, Torie, there’s a car coming up behind us!”

  “As long as you don’t slam on the brakes, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “I decided to stop smoking, and I need a distraction. Making somebody else miserable seemed like a good idea.” Torie’s voice grew belligerent. “And I’m giving up cigarettes for myself, not for anybo
dy else. So if anybody says anything to you about the fact that I’m not smoking, you tell him to mind his own gee dee business!”

  “I can’t do this much longer. I want to stop.”

  “There’s a diner in town. We’ll stop there.”

  “Town! I can’t!”

  “Now that you’ve got your tendency to drive on the wrong side of the road straightened out, you’re doing just fine.”

  “I don’t—I don’t have a license.”

  “I’m good friends with most of the cops around here. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I’m not worried. I’m terrified!”

  “We’re both still alive, so that should count for something.”

  Somehow she made it into town and managed to pull into a large space next to the diner. She turned off the ignition and leaned back against the seat in relief.

  Torie grinned. “Proud of yourself?”

  Emma scowled at her.

  “Come on, admit it. You’ve done something you didn’t think you could do.”

  Now that her heart rate was beginning to return to normal, maybe she did feel a little proud. Being unable to drive limited her life in so many ways. Not that she could drive now. “I’ll admit I’m happy we’re still alive,” she said begrudgingly.

  Torie laughed. “Come on. I’ll buy you coffee to celebrate.”

  Inside Jimmy’s Diner a model train chugged along a track that ran just below the ceiling. Chrome chairs sat around tables covered in black-and-white-checked oilcloth, and two ceiling fans spun overhead. A blackboard near the entrance listed the day’s lunch special: chicken-fried pork chops, stewed okra, along with a carrot and “raisen” salad. Emma was uncomfortable with the idea of a young child coming in and seeing that, so she requested a piece of chalk from the woman at the register and corrected the spelling.

  Torie hooted and hugged her.

  They sat at a table that held A-1 Steak Sauce and Tabasco, along with the more usual condiments. On the wall next to them hung a painting of a rooster and a red lantern. As the model train passed over their heads, she saw that each car was painted with the sign of a local business.