Lady Be Good (26 page)

He shook his head. “Not this time, baby. Please. I only have so much self-control. And this has to be perfect for you.” He pulled off her robe and renewed his sensual dallying.

Deep, lazy touches.

The tip of a finger.                 A dabble.

Nibble.
Nibble. Nibble.
Nibble.             Nibble.

And then . . .    A long     sloooow     lapppp . . .     with his tongue.

It was too much!

He smiled as she cried out again. “The luckiest man in the world,” he repeated.

He snatched up the box on the bedside table and was soon settled over her, nipping at her kiss-swollen bottom lip and beginning to ease inside her.

Despite everything, it didn’t happen comfortably.

“Take it slow, sweetheart.”

Glorying in the press of his weight upon her, she clung to his damp shoulders and arched her hips.

He groaned. “Please . . . baby . . . don’t try to take charge now.”

“It’s—I need . . .”

“I know. I know.”

She only had part of him. She wanted more.

“Easy . . . easy . . .” He crooned to her or himself, she didn’t know which. Didn’t care. Only knew that she was flying higher and higher. . . . She sobbed as she split apart.

And then she had him all, and it wasn’t over, but just beginning.

Deep heavy thrusts. Violet eyes darkened to midnight. Hands pinioning hers to the pillow. Weight upon her. Inside her. Stretching. Pumping. The feel and scent of this man.

Another climb. Another spiral. Years . . . decades . . . aeons . . .

Thick hot rush.

And . . . much later . . . return.

Thank. You.

Emma came out of the bathroom in her robe with her skin still damp from the shower. She winced as she moved a bit too quickly toward the dresser to fetch her underwear. Kenny squinted against the morning light and grinned from her sadly rumpled bed. “I told you that last time was too much, but would you listen? No, you wouldn’t. You always think you know best.”

She tried to calculate how many of those blissfully explosive orgasms she’d experienced during the night, but she’d lost track. “I couldn’t help it. I was crazed.”

“Yeah?”

“You were, too, so you don’t have to look so pleased with yourself.”

“I sure was. I finally got all that energy of yours channeled in the right direction.”

He pushed back the sheet and stepped out, oblivious to the fact that he was naked. As she withdrew a set of frilly underwear from the drawer, she watched the morning light play across the slopes and planes of his body. His crisp, dark hair was mussed, and she spotted a red mark on his back, as well as the beginnings of a bruise on the side of his neck. She rather liked the fact that she’d put those messy marks on such extravagant male gorgeousness.

He began retrieving his clothes from the floor. “Shelby called while you were in the bathroom. She’s got a meeting, and Luisa has a doctor’s appointment, so she asked me to take Petie for a few hours later on this morning. I know I told you the day was yours, but do you mind putting off going back to Austin until this afternoon?”

“Not at all.”

“I’d like to hit the driving range first. Maybe you can read or something while I practice. Can you be ready in half an hour?”

When she nodded, he draped his clothes over his arm and, still naked, left her bedroom.

Seconds later, Patrick shrieked in the hallway. “Warn me next time, will you, Kenneth? I don’t have my smelling salts.”

Kenny laughed and then she heard the sound of his door closing.

She sighed as she walked over to the closet. It would have been nice if he’d kissed her before he’d left.

He really was an exceptional kisser. And a wonderful lover. Considerate, unselfish, thrillingly kinky, and so beautiful naked that she wanted to cry. As a matter of fact, she thought she just might. But not because he was beautiful naked.

She sank down into the overstuffed chair and bit her bottom lip. She had only a little over a week left and she needed to remember that Kenny Traveler was for thrills, for scandal, even for memories, but not forever. Regardless of what last night had meant to her, it was merely the tiniest detour on the great golf course of his life. He’d shared his body, but nothing of what he was, and, in the future, if he remembered her at all, it would only be because she was different from his other sexual conquests.

But she would never forget. She’d carry the memory of this night to her grave, and she knew it wasn’t the orgasms she’d remember, but the intimacy, the feeling of connection. Sleeping with someone, being held so tenderly in his arms, and hearing his heart beat. Letting herself pretend, if only for a few moments, that she was joined to another.

She gazed out the window and thought how easily attachments came to most of the people she knew. But not to her. For as long as she could recall, her life had been a series of broken attachments. She remembered being six years old and standing in the doorway of Orchard House watching her parents drive away to spend eight months in Africa. They’d loved her, but not as much as they’d loved their work.

She’d tried attaching herself to teachers and house mothers. Some of them had been fond of her, but they had children of their own, or they found other jobs and moved away. Only St. Gert’s never changed. Solid, comforting, always there.

The grand old lady had been with her through both her parents’ deaths, through long holidays when she had been the only child left at the school, and then later as a teacher when she’d grown to care so much about other people’s children. St. Gert’s was the single unbroken attachment in her life.

But not for long.
Soon she’d be forced to leave the beloved old pile of bricks and stone. With that tie severed, there would be no place left in the world that she could call home.

It was tempting to allow herself a few moments of self-pity, but she wouldn’t do it. No matter where her new life took her, she’d always have the satisfaction of knowing that the school lived on, that it would provide a place of shelter for other lonely girls. And, for now, she wasn’t going to think beyond the present. For a few more days, she would simply cherish every moment of this brief, physical attachment to a man who didn’t love her.

E
mma stood just outside the barrier around the petting
zoo and watched Kenny carry Peter toward the center of the miniature barnyard. “It’s all right, Petie. That old goat’s not going to hurt you.”

Petie wasn’t buying it and he clung more tightly to Kenny’s neck.

Emma smiled. The petting zoo had been set up in the parking lot attached to a small strip mall that was celebrating its first anniversary. The buildings’ pastel-painted Wild West exteriors formed a background to a carousel, an assortment of clowns giving away balloons, and various family-friendly companies promoting their products with free food and games.

“This goat looks mighty hungry to me.” Kenny stooped down and held out a handful of feed. As the goat nudged Kenny’s legs to get to the food, Petie climbed higher on his brother’s chest. Kenny laughed and dropped the pellets. “Maybe we’d better go see the rabbits. I think they’re more your speed.”

Emma tried not to let the image of the two of them together etch itself into her heart. Spending one night with a man didn’t give her the right to start imagining that it was her child he held in his arms. Silly, desperate Emma. So hungry for love she wanted to imagine herself having a baby with a man who was completely unsuitable. Had she forgotten that she’d never fancied rogues? Her own pitifulness disgusted her. Still, truth was truth, and she couldn’t deny the obvious. She had fallen deeply into infatuation with Kenny Traveler.

Infatuation, not love, she reminded herself. They didn’t have enough in common for her to love him. But, oh, she was infatuated. She was infatuated by his humor, his easy charm, the love he displayed for his baby brother, as well as the way his quick intelligence forced her own brain to full alertness.

But she wouldn’t pretend that there wasn’t also a dangerous element to her infatuation. To the rest of the world, Kenny might appear to be nothing more than a sublimely handsome athlete with an overabundance of charm, but she knew better. He had a whole world of psychological demons haunting him.

She saw Peter’s forehead wrinkle at the baaing of the lambs, and he drew up his knees to protect himself from their nosy exploration. Kenny kissed his head and carried him out of the petting zoo toward Emma.

“I think it’s safe to say you’re not going to have a big career as a farmer, Petie boy.”

She tickled the baby’s belly. “You’re still young, aren’t you, luv? Lots of time to get used to savage animals.”

“Yeah, I swear that baby lamb looked a little bit like Hannibal Lecter around the eyes.”

“Easy for a big man like him to make fun, isn’t it?”

Peter gave her a drooly grin and poked a wet finger at her mouth. They began wandering toward a clown holding balloons. On the way, a young woman holding a clipboard approached them and smiled at Emma. “The next round of the Diaper Derby’s starting soon if you and your husband would like to enter your baby.”

A pang of embarrassment mixed uncomfortably with longing. “He’s not my—”

“What’s a Diaper Derby?” Kenny asked.

“A crawling race for babies.”

“A race?” His face split in a grin. “Now we’re talking.” He tossed Petie up in his arms, tucked him like a potato sack in the crook of his elbow, and turned toward the Diaper Derby arena. “Greatness moves on to the next generation of Travelers.”

“Kenny, maybe we’d better think about this.” But, for once, she was talking to his back.

The race was being held behind a waist-high barricade on a padded red mat that was about thirty feet long and twenty feet wide with six narrow lanes divided by white lines. One parent positioned the baby at the starting line, while the other parent sat at the finishing line urging the child forward. The first of the six babies to make it was the winner.

“Now, here’s the way we’re going to do this,” Kenny said after he’d studied the layout. “Petie’ll crawl to me faster than you, so you start him off, and I’ll wait for him at the finish line.”

She looked over at the spectators who’d gathered to watch. “I don’t know. Peter wasn’t overjoyed with the petting zoo, and it’s quite noisy here.”

“Petie’s not afraid of a little gallery noise, are you, bro?”

Peter gave a baby chortle and smacked his fist against the Top Flite logo on Kenny’s shirt. Kenny laughed, tossed him up again, and handed him over to Emma.

He went to her easily. Her heart ached as she looked into those bright violet eyes with their tiny fringe of spiky lashes. Despite her years of experience with children, she hadn’t spent much time with babies. Now she felt a pang of longing so intense it surprised her. She pushed the emotion away and watched Kenny head for the opposite end of the mat. She realized he was actually studying the competition, and she hugged Peter a bit tighter. “I’m afraid you’re in for it, luv.”

She could see Kenny dismissing a fairy-sprite of a little girl dressed in a yellow romper with layers of lace across her bottom. Then he passed over a blond-haired baby of indeterminate sex who was desperately clinging to his or her mother. For a moment, his attention lingered on a set of lively chocolate-colored twins, but they seemed more interested in each other than the event.

Suddenly he stiffened. His eyes narrowed, and she could almost hear the theme from
Rocky
playing in his brain. He’d found the one man who stood between a Traveler and athletic glory.

The challenger had a single spike of red hair shooting up from a nearly bald head. His body was strong and brawny, clad in plaid overalls and a Tigger T-shirt. His feet were encased in a pair of miniature Nikes that pumped as he struggled to get down. Twenty-five pounds of raw dynamite. This was the man to beat.

The young woman in charge gave the instructions. As Emma sat behind the starting line with Peter on her lap, she cast a wary eye at Kenny. He seemed to be taking this a little too seriously.

After one last look at the spike-haired bruiser in the lane next to Peter, Kenny crouched at the finish line and called down to his baby brother. “You’ve got to stay focused. Make them play your game, Petie. A hundred and ten percent. You’ve got to give it a hundred and ten percent.”

The mother of the little girl in the lacy romper looked at Kenny as if he’d escaped from a lunatic asylum.

Emma sighed and stroked the baby’s soft arm, while she tried to catch Kenny’s eye. But his entire focus, all one hundred and ten percent of it, was on the game.

“Ready. Set.
Go
.” At the command from the starter, Emma set Peter on the starting line and released him.

With a superb display of finely honed Traveler crawling skills, he shot toward his brother.