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Authors: Susan Elizabeth Phillips

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BOOK: Lady Be Good
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That stopped her—stopped him, too. She glanced back at him, and her expression was completely baffled, which made him even more irritable. “Vegas? What do you mean?”

The hole in his brain was getting bigger by the second. “Las Vegas. It’s in Nevada.”

“I know where it is. Why do you want to go there?”

“To elope.” The words came out like a croak. “It’s where people go to elope.”

“Elope?” She was walking back toward him now, not as though she wanted to do it, but more like a zombie. “Do you mean get married?”

No!
No, that’s not what he meant at all—he didn’t want to get married!—but he couldn’t back down now, not with that damned gate attendant staring at him as if he were a nutcase, and Emma looking like the walking dead, and Tiger wearing the green jacket again.

His eavesdropping sister started shrieking in the background and jumping up and down just like the sorority girl she’d been in her not-so-distant past. “You’re getting married!”

He thrust out his jaw at Emma. “You’ve got a problem with that?”

Those amber brown eyes looked as if they were going to swim right out of her face, and her throat muscles contracted as she swallowed. “This is—is foolish. You don’t want to marry me.”

She’d never spoken truer words, but he wasn’t going to admit it now. “Don’t you try to tell me what I want and what I don’t want. Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean I’m going to put up with you bossing me around.”

“Ma’am, I’m afraid you’ll have to get this sorted out on your own time. Good luck.”

As the gate attendant shut the door, Kenny went light-headed with relief. He didn’t try to examine his reaction. He only knew that he’d just survived a sudden-death playoff.

Behind him, Torie continued to squeal. “Married! Oh, Kenny, this is perfect! You and Lady E! Shelby’s gonna die. Oh, my God! Does this mean you get a title, too? Does it, Lady E? Is he going to be Lord Kenny now?”

Kenny shot Dex an imploring look. “If you’ve got an ounce of compassion, get her out of here.”

Dexter slipped his hand around Torie’s waist. “I don’t think we’re needed.”

“I have to call Shelby. And Ted! Wait till I tell Teddy Beaudine about this.” As she fumbled in her purse for her cell phone, she grinned at her brother. “I can see why you like her so much, Kenny. She’s a real good kisser.”

Every person still standing in the gate area turned to stare at Emma.

Torie regarded them haughtily. “Well, she
is
.”

 
Chapter
20
 

I
t didn’t take Kenny long to collar one of the airline
employees, establish who he was, and get VIP treatment. Ignoring Emma’s protests, he made arrangements for their flight to Las Vegas.

She should have simply dug in her heels and refused to move, but instead, she trotted along at his side, barely keeping up with Mr. Speedy, as she tried to talk to him. He refused to listen, refused to wait for her luggage to be retrieved, and before she knew it, she was headed to Las Vegas for an elopement.

She wouldn’t marry him, of course. She couldn’t. It was unthinkable.

But so tempting.

And so wrong.

“Kenny, we have to talk about this!”

“Nothing to talk about.” He pulled his baseball cap down over his eyes and leaned back into his first-class seat next to her. “You ruined my reputation. Now you’re going to save it.”

“Rubbish! We don’t have to get married for that.”

“You already told me Hugh fired you, then kicked you out of your house. What else are you going to do?”

“I’ll find another job and a place to stay. I’m not helpless, and I’m not in need of rescue!”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to catch up on my sleep.”

“I do mind. I mind very much. I—Oh, what’s the use? Until you decide to talk, I’m wasting my breath.”

She turned to gaze out the window of the plane and wonder how her life had slipped so far out of her control in such a short time. What an awful day. She’d barely slept last night, and then there’d been that horrid meeting with Hugh.

Something nagged at her, something Hugh had said, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. She tried to reconstruct their interview, but that only depressed her.

At her side, Kenny stirred in his sleep. She had to make him listen to her, and, as soon as he woke up, that was exactly what she would do. No matter how difficult it might be, she had to right the terrible wrong she’d done to him. But first she needed to talk him out of this silly notion that they were going to elope.

The woman in the seat behind her had been arguing with her male companion ever since the plane had taken off, and, once again, she raised her voice. Emma thought of Torie. She’d been awful to Dexter all day. Why had he put up with it? Emma knew Torie was going through a lot of emotional pain, but it really wasn’t fair to take it out on him.

Fair. As if anything about life was fair.

 

As Emma pondered life’s unfairness, Torie led Dexter through the front door of Kenny’s Dallas condo. She’d told him she needed to pick something up here, but the truth was, she wanted to settle things between them, and she’d rather do it here than back in Wynette.

The condo was stuffy, so she made her way over to the air conditioner and flipped the control. Then she stalked into the kitchen. Maybe something cold to drink would improve her mood.

Dex headed for Kenny’s stereo, but instead of looking through the CDs like any normal person, he pulled out one of the components and inspected it from behind. Damn him. He’d been stiff and starchy all day. At least he had been with her. With Emma, he’d been all friendly and chatty. And he’d gotten worse after they’d left the airport. Torie might as well have been invisible because nothing she did got a reaction from him. She’d criticized his driving, made fun of his vocabulary, and told him he could have gotten a better haircut from a dog groomer, but he hadn’t paid any attention. Instead, he’d merely gotten quieter, as if she no longer interested him.

She grabbed a can of Sprite from the refrigerator, tossed her purse on the counter, then kicked off her chunky-heeled leather sandals. She was wearing them with a long black knit tank dress that set off her figure and should have made him drool, but didn’t seem to be having any effect. She’d never felt as insecure around a man as she did around Dexter. “If you want something to drink, get it yourself,” she snapped.

“Nothing, thank you.”

His quiet manner enraged her. “You could be a little more supportive, you know. This hasn’t been an easy day for me.”

“Why is that?”

“Isn’t it obvious? My only brother’s getting married.”

“You’re happy about that,” he pointed out with a patience that made her want to scream. “Remember?”

“I hate it when you’re sarcastic.”

“I’m never sarcastic.”

“Well, aren’t you Mr. Perfect.”

He sighed. “Suppose you just tell me exactly what’s bothering you.”

Everything was bothering her! He was bored with her. He hadn’t given her a single compliment, or noticed that she wasn’t smoking, or even defended himself when she’d attacked. She knew exactly what was going on. He’d grown bored with her because she wasn’t smart like Emma, and she wasn’t kind like Emma, and she wasn’t as interesting as Emma. Now all he wanted to do was get away from her. Well, she wasn’t going to let him go. Not until
she
kicked him out!

“We’ll have to spend the night here.” She sprawled down on the couch, letting her dress slide up as she settled back into the cushions. “I’m too tired to drive back to Wynette tonight.”

He spoke in a low, tight voice that was unlike his normal thoughtful tones. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Of course you don’t! Because you’re a tight ass who wouldn’t know a good time if it bit you.”

“Torie . . .”

Furious, she leaped to her feet. “Can’t you stand the truth? You’re stuffy and boring and—”

“I suggest you be quiet.”

“What’s the matter? Are you afraid I’ll jump you and find out that you’re missing a pair of balls?”

“That does it!”

The next thing she knew, she was dangling upside down over his shoulder. “Let me down! What in the hell are you doing?” She punched him in the back.

“I’m taking you upstairs to spank you.”

“What!” She was so shocked that she stopped punching him. And then her mood soared. She finally had his attention. “You’re kidding.”

He wrapped his arm tighter around the thin knit fabric that covered her thighs and began hauling her up the stairs. “How could I be kidding? I have no sense of humor. Remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” The upside-down jolting made her dizzy, but, at the same time, she was beginning to feel better than she had all day.

The jolting stopped as he reached the top of the stairs. He hesitated for a moment, then made his way into the nearest bedroom, which happened to be Kenny’s. He dropped her in the middle of the bed.

“I’m afraid you’ve pushed me too far, Victoria.”

Finally!
She set her teeth in what she hoped looked like a snarl. “You go to hell.”

He grabbed her, jerked her toward him, and turned her over his knees. “I realize this will be painful,” he said in that stodgy way that he knew pissed her off, “not to mention politically incorrect, but it has to be done.”

She snorted. Not in a million years would he go through with this.

“I mean it, Victoria. You’d better brace yourself.”

She cocked her head, looked up at him, and said dryly, “Maybe you’d better give me a piece of wood to bite down on for the pain.”

He chuckled.

She smiled to herself.

Then he smacked the flat of his hand down on her butt.

She was so surprised that she nearly spoiled the whole thing by rolling off his lap. “Ow! That hurt.”

“I apologize.” He smacked her again.

She winced, then thought about biting him in the calf or simply pushing herself away, but she was too curious to see what was going to happen next. And she also felt this warm little wriggle of . . . something . . . that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Imagine Dexter O’Conner, the biggest dweeb in Wynette, Texas, having the nerve to do something like this.

Another smack.

It didn’t feel good, but it didn’t exactly hurt either, and, in a perverse way, it was nice to have finally riled him so much. “You brute,” she managed.

“Believe me, this is hurting you a lot more than it’s hurting me.”

She grimaced, then braced herself for his next smack. Instead, his open hand came to rest on her butt, and she had the distinct impression he was copping a feel.

“Whatcha doin’ back there, Dex?”

He snatched his hand away and cleared his throat, but he still sounded a little hoarse. “Have you learned your lesson?”

“Uhmm.”

“Well? Have you?”

“I wonder if Kenny knows he’s got a dust bunny under his bed.”

He smacked her, then sighed. “
Now
have you learned your lesson?”

“I can’t believe you’re wearing brown socks with blue pants.”

A long silence. Finally, “This isn’t working, is it?”

“Maybe we should try it naked and see if that improves things.”

She tensed, waiting for him to get all stodgy and let her go. But he surprised her again by giving a resigned sigh. “An excellent idea.”

A thrill shot through her as he tugged up her long skirt and flipped it over her head. His palm settled over her bare bottom, and she shivered.

She waited in anticipation, but his hand didn’t move.

“Torie . . . your panties . . .”

“Yes?”

“Where are they?”

“Look for a tiny little strap of flesh-colored silk.”

“I don’t see any—Oh, there it is.” His voice had developed a rasp. “Kind of wedged down between . . .”

“I’m sure a more experienced man would have found it right away.”

“I have plenty of experience. I’m just used to seeing panties from the front.” He paused. “This is nice, though.”

“Glad you approve.” She smiled to herself. “Dex?”

“Uh-huh?”

“The blood’s starting to pool in my head. Do you think you could get on with it?” She shifted her elbow on the carpet to make her position more comfortable, and, as she moved, discovered she was resting on a lumpy surface. One very large lump in particular.

Once again, he cleared his throat. “Get on with it? Oh, uh—yes. Sure.”

His open palm connected with her bottom, but his heart wasn’t in it, and it didn’t even sting. Then he began stroking. As if he were caressing silk.

It felt good—wonderful, in fact—but her awkward position kept her from enjoying it as much as she wished. “I think I’m pretty sure I’ve learned my lesson now. Do you suppose I could get up?”

“Well . . . yes, I—I don’t see any reason to embarrass you further.” He traced another delicious curve over her bottom.

She let her eyes drift shut as he doodled. It felt so good that it took her a while to remember she had an agenda. Mustering herself, she straightened, then turned and sank back on the bed, not making the slightest effort to push her dress down. The strap of flesh-colored lace that covered her in the front wasn’t wide enough to be really significant. She slipped the very tips of her fingers beneath it and gazed up at him. Then she licked her lips like a cheap porno queen.

BOOK: Lady Be Good
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