Crazy Love (27 page)

“Have it your way.” He shrugged, as if being fobbed off didn’t mean anything, but she glimpsed the pensive gleam in his eyes and hoped he’d be ready to hear what she had to say when the time came. “But we need to talk. Soon.”

“Absolutely.”

Her solemn expression elicited a chuckle from him. “Tell me what the masses are saying about us.”

“You name it, we’ve done it.”

“Sounds intriguing. Are there whips and chains involved in the rumors?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and made a whip-cracking gesture.

She grabbed his hand. “There will be now.”

He laughed and squeezed her hand. “Come on, I see a kissing booth over there. Let’s give them something to really talk about.”

“Damn, speaking of booths, I forgot about Belle. I’m supposed to be relieving her for half an hour.”

“Where is she?”

“Over there.”

She pointed toward a crimson silk tent tucked behind the main stalls. As usual, the tame booths were given pride of place while the racy ones like Belle’s were hidden away.

Love Fest drew crowds from around the country, hopeful singles and contented couples alike, and with that in mind the younger population in town had pushed for a wider range of merchandise, booths and displays.

Singles searching for love flocked to the fortunetellers, the book displays featuring the latest bestsellers from the country’s top dating experts, and the aroma-therapist plying aphrodisiac essential oils guaranteed to help find your soul mate.

Couples pretended to skirt the adult DVD stalls while ducking into the racier booths, and families stuck to the video arcade games, the daily animal parade at dusk and the tamer rides.

Marc glanced around. “Lousy position. How does anyone find her way over there?”

Sierra bit back a grin. “If people want the stuff, they find her.”

With her penchant for shocking people, Belle had been first to put her hand up to man the Love Me range, catering for the liberal-minded festival attendees, offering vibrators to blow-up dolls and everything in between.

The locals steered clear of Belle’s booth at Love Fest though Sierra would hazard a guess more than a few patronized the goods on a regular basis through the Internet.

The out-of-towners had no hesitation in checking out Belle’s merchandise and often left holding the discreet brown paper bags lined in red silk.

“What does she sell?”

Sierra grinned and tapped him on the nose. “You’ll see.”

Marc’s head swiveled as they wound their way past the kissing booth, the arcade games and the Ferris wheel.

“Never been to a fair before?”

He glanced down at her, his eyes sparkling with the wide-eyed wonder of a child let loose in Disneyland.

“That obvious?”

“Yeah. Want to go for a ride later?”

“I thought we’d already established that back at my place?” His exaggerated wink made her laugh.

“You’re bad.”

She lifted the flap of the red silk tent and ushered him in. “Speaking of being bad, after you.”

“
Jeez-us
.”

He whistled long and low, his gaze darting around the dim interior. “And I thought Love was stuck in a time warp.”

“Well, hello there.” Belle left the cash register and sashayed across the tent, looking amazing as usual in a simple navy dress, conservative on the average woman yet turning her into a sex goddess.

“Can I help you with anything?” Belle paused in front of a table covered in BDSM paraphernalia that made Sierra mentally wince just looking at the whips, clamps and spreader bars. “You look like an open-minded couple to me. Perhaps this would interest you?”

Belle held up a vibrator sporting enough attachments to keep its owner satisfied into the next century.

“Or perhaps these have your name written on them?” Belle hooked a pair of handcuffs lined with leopard-print fur with her index finger and swung them under Marc’s nose.

He swatted them away and laughed. “I’m browsing but maybe you can convince the lady?”

Sierra held up her hands to ward her friend off. “Hey, I’m just filling in.”

“That’s one of the perks.” Belle winked. “Fifty percent staff discount.”

Sierra laughed and shooed her away. “Thanks but no thanks. Now scoot before I change my mind about helping you out.”

Belle sighed and replaced the vibrator and handcuffs alongside the rest of the sex toys. “Can’t blame a girl for trying. Been a slow day.”

Sierra slipped an arm around Belle’s shoulders and hugged her. “Business is always slow on the first day. Bet you’re sold out by the end of the weekend.”

Belle nodded. “I know, but it gets so damn boring in here.”

“Really?” Marc wandered through the tent and snagged a whip with his right hand, edible underwear with his left. “Doesn’t look boring to me.”

Belle shrugged. “I get to see this stuff regularly. Once you’ve seen one Ever-Ready Shake, Rattle and Roll, you’ve seen them all.”

Marc’s eyebrows rose. “Regularly?”

“Belle’s the town’s merchandise liaison officer for the Love Me line,” Sierra said, chuckling at Marc’s wide-eyed stare as his gaze swung between Belle and her merchandise.

“You ladies have interesting jobs,” he said, replacing the toys on the table. “Beautician-cum-dominatrix and the matchmaking queen.”

His head swiveled between the two of them as if watching a freak show, a big stupid grin on the face she’d grown to love.

“Dang, I’m gonna miss this place.” He put on his best country-bumpkin voice, which got a laugh out of Belle but all Sierra could manage was a tight smile.

It wasn’t his dig at her hometown but the fact he’d be leaving in two days.

She was a sucker. Whatever happened to GOLF? She’d had some orgasmic laid-back fun but where did it say in Belle’s
how to do men
handbook she’d end up wanting more?

“Okay, kids, I’d like to stay and chat but I’ve got me a hot date with a spicy Tom Yum.” Belle picked up her bag and wiggled her fingers in a saucy wave. “Want me to hang the do not disturb sign?”

Marc glanced around at the BDSM stuff, the mischievous glint in his eyes belying his shake of the head. “Hell no.”

Belle laughed. “In that case, sell loads. Back in thirty.”

She blew them a kiss and left, and Marc rubbed his hands together the moment the tent flap fluttered shut. “Now we’re alone, let’s browse.”

Sierra slapped his wrist, unable to resist when he was like this: playful, teasing, and utterly gorgeous.

“I’m here to work, remember?”

“In that case, work. Consider me your first customer.”

He tapped his bottom lip as if deep in thought and scanned the tables. “Excuse me, Miss, could you recommend this?”

He picked up a crotch-less black lace teddy. “I’m involved with this really hot woman and I want to keep the fires burning when I’m not around so would this do the trick?”

Whoa. Had he just said what she thought he’d said? Her mind spun with the implications while her pulse skyrocketed at the thought of him doing the stoking he was so damn good at.

Why would he want to keep her fires burning when he wasn’t around unless he planned on returning?

Determined to keep the conversation light for now she fell into his role-play with gusto.

“I can see Sir is a man with good taste. Perhaps the lady in question would prefer something a little less obvious? Something like this?”

She picked up a white silk nightgown, tame compared with the other racy items surrounding it, until held up to the light where it’s sheer bodice came into its own.

Marc’s eyes widened as he registered the transparency of the silk. “Yeah, this is perfect.”

His gaze locked on hers, hot, intense, loaded, as he handed her the nightgown and his hand brushed hers. “I’ll take it.”

Electricity shot up her arm like she’d stuck her finger in a socket, the latent desire between them flaring in an instant. She’d never get enough of him, the heat he generated with a single look enough to melt her on the spot.

They had to make this work, whatever it took.

“Would you like it gift wrapped, Sir?”

She stared up at him from beneath her lashes as she stepped behind the cash register. “So the lucky lady gets a surprise.”

He reached across the counter and captured her hand, his thumb sliding over her pulse point in slow, concentric circles, setting her heart pounding.

“You think she’s lucky?”

Her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips and his gaze riveted to it, her rampant need reflected in his eyes. “Very.”

“In that case she’s about to get a whole lot luckier.”

He tugged on her hand until she had no option but to sidle around the counter and slide into his arms.

“Sounds promising,” she said, sucking in a breath as he kissed the hollow of her neck, his mouth tracing a meandering, lazy trail upward where he captured her lips.

“Ever done it in a tent?” He murmured, one hand pulling her flush against him while the other slid under her top and toyed with the clasp on her bra, his fingers tickling her skin.

“Not yet, but there’s a first time for everything. Oooh,” she breathed out on a sigh as he flicked the clasp and it gave way, freeing her breasts. Her nipples rasped against the lace, replaced by his thumbs brushing them in a slow, deliberate tease.

“Want to give it a try?”

He nuzzled her neck again while his hands drove her crazy, cupping her breasts, stroking them, creating magic as only he could.

“I forgot my—” Belle stepped into the tent and they sprung apart, Sierra mortified, Marc grinning.

“Never mind.” Belle beat a hasty exit while Sierra readjusted her top and glared at Marc, who thrust his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “Not my fault your friends like to watch.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Cupid’s Tips for the Enlightened Male

Women don’t appreciate sleazy underwear for Christmas
.

Flo waited until she spied Will opening her front gate before grabbing her handbag and slipping out the door. She wanted to make it look like she was on her way out, not all dressed up and waiting for him.

She may be desperate, no use advertising the fact.

She sauntered down the path, grateful her makeover didn’t include heeled shoes. Her ankles wouldn’t have lasted five minutes in stilts and she towered over most people all ready. Luckily, Will was about an inch taller. After Charlie she’d had it with short men. Her dearly departed had been
short
in every way.

She knew the exact moment Will caught sight of her, for the dapper butler who never put a foot wrong stumbled.

“Watch your step, Will. Those cracks in the sidewalk can be a killer.”

William straightened and tugged at the hem of his jacket, his glance discreetly flicking over her before settling on her face. “You look very nice. Special occasion?”

Very nice
? That’s all the old fool could come up with? He may come from the Mother Country but he sure as hell was no Shakespeare.

“Something like that.”

The special occasion being trying to get his attention, the silly bugger.

“I was hoping to have a cup of tea with you but maybe some other time?”

Was that disappointment she glimpsed in his blue eyes? She loved that blue, the color of Sydney Harbor on a crisp spring day. She hadn’t seen it in a long while but her memories hadn’t fade and if she were lucky she’d see it again before she curled her toes up in the big outback in the sky.

Disappointment was good. Disappointment meant he’d been looking forward to spending time with her. Time to reel him in a little.

“Yeah, some other time. I was on my way to Love Fest.” She sucked in a breath, hoping her cigarette-infused vocal cords didn’t quiver. Now or never. “You’re welcome to come along? It’ll be a hoot.”

“Love Fest?”

She almost laughed out loud at his supercilious eyebrow quirk.

“It’s the local festival, happens once a year before Christmas. People come from everywhere.” She gestured toward the town center. “I’m walking down there so you’re welcome to join me.”

“I’d like that.”

Flo’s heart gave a kick like a mule as Will fell into step beside her, pausing to hold open the gate. She could get used to this. Charlie would’ve barreled through the gate first and slammed it for good luck.

Damn, she had to stop comparing him to Charlie. They were the clichéd chalk and cheese; an old, dusty, worn out nub of chalk in comparison to a prize winning Camembert.

An awkward silence descended, crazy considering they’d chatted nonstop over cups of tea at her place the last few days.

Maybe her appearance was scaring him rather than impressing? Surely a man with his obvious taste—look at how the old coot dressed, in his fancy-shmancy ties and jackets—would like a woman to get dolled up a little? Or perhaps he liked the untrimmed-wild-grey-curls-no-makeup-look? Fat chance.

“I love this town.”

His words floored her. Sure, Love had its charms but what would a man who’d traveled extensively see in a backwater place like this?

“Really?”

She tried to keep the skepticism out of her voice but failed.

“It reminds of Bourton-on-the-Water in the Cotswolds. Not the architecture or scenery but the general feel of the place.”

He paused and shot her a sideways look that would’ve made her knees weak if she were prone to that sort of thing. “The warmth of the locals especially.”

Heck. The old codger was flirting with her. This makeover stuff worked wonders.

“Anyone in particular?”

If his words had floored her she almost passed out when he took hold of her hand.

“You’re a charming woman, Flo. Utterly charming.”

“Get away with you,” she said, flattered beyond belief. She should tug her hand out of his before Essie or Rosa saw them.

On second thoughts, let them. Why shouldn’t she have a little of what everyone else in this town had?

“I like what you’ve done with your hair, by the way. You look lovely.”

“You’re a charmer,” she said, blushing for the first time in forty years. “Glad you like it.”