Lady Be Good

by Susan Elizabeth Phillips

  “That’s not fair,” Shelby said. “You dated my sophomore roommate, Kathy Timms, and I distinctly remember she was Phi Beta Kappa. Or was it Phi Mu?”

  “It was Phi Mu.” Torie sat on the banquette. “But I know you went out with Brandy Carter’s big sister, and Brandy took a three-hundred-level math class her senior year. Don’t you remember, Shel? She was always complaining about it.”

  “Are you sure it was math?” Shelby said. “It might have been that class on family life and sexuality where she had to make up a weekly budget.”

  Kenny rolled his eyes. “I know you won’t believe this, Lady Emma, but both Shelby and Torie have college degrees.”

  Torie grinned and turned to her brother. “You dated Debbie Barto for a while.”

  “It was her older cousin Maggie,” Shelby interjected.

  “Well, blood’s thicker than water, and Debbie was real smart.” Torie’s eyes glittered. “Remember, Shel? No matter what food you named, she knew exactly how many calories it had.”

  Kenny sighed. “I swear, this conversation proves exactly why the rest of the world makes fun of Texas women. I can only apologize, Lady Emma. All our yellow roses aren’t this lamebrained.”

  “It’s quite all right,” Emma replied, “although I’m afraid some of what they’re saying is getting lost in the translation.”

  “Consider yourself fortunate.”

  Torie leaned back and lifted an eyebrow at her brother. “Go ahead and scoff. But I’ll bet you don’t have the slightest idea how many calories are in a Life Saver.”

  “Can’t say as I do.”

  She shot him a triumphant look. “Then I suggest you keep your opinions on the intelligence of Texas women to yourself.”

  Chapter 11

  It wasn’t quite nine o’clock, and the lights were still on inside the drugstore when Kenny swung into a diagonal parking space near the front door. “I’ll just be a minute. I broke a lace on my favorite pair of golf shoes, and I need a replacement.”

  “I’ll go in with you. I want to buy some film.”

  Though their earlier tension had faded, he’d made no real attempt at conversation since they’d left his family’s home. She’d already apologized, and she had no intention of groveling. The next move was up to him.

  She went inside as he held the door open for her. He immediately headed toward the back of the store to find the shoelaces, and she walked over to the film display. For nine o’clock, the store was busy. She was just getting ready to make her choice when she caught sight of the burly man who’d followed her into the Roustabout entering the drugstore. For a moment his gaze locked on her, then he looked away.

  Her pulse quickened, and she immediately regretted her conservative yellow dress. Then it occurred to her that she might not have to write off this day after all, but she had to act quickly. What scandalous thing could she do in a drugstore?

  Her watchdog was pretending to study a display of sunblock. Without giving herself time to think, she grabbed one of the small shopping carts and flew down the first aisle, her gaze darting left to right. She grabbed a book, tossed it in the cart, and careened around a corner. Her eyes automatically skimmed the shelves of shampoo. She spotted a plastic bottle and threw it in. With no time to ponder, she headed down another aisle and added to her purchases. She didn’t try to make rational decisions; she simply needed to act.

  More aisles, more items, until the bottom of her shopping cart was strewn with purchases. The burly man glanced over at her as she came around the front. Then he wandered toward the cashier. She needed to get there first so he could take a good look at what she’d bought, and she nearly overturned the cart in her rush to cut in front of him.

  She was slightly breathless as she came to a stop before the cashier, who was a blank-faced teenage girl with dark brown lipstick. She sensed the watchdog coming up behind her and began unloading her purchases. She took her time to make certain each item was positioned so he could clearly see it. The cashier began to scan, then paused as she realized what she was scanning. She gazed curiously at Emma.

  Although it was difficult, Emma kept her composure. “Would you add a pack of Camel cigarettes, please?” She pulled a tabloid off the rack with a picture of Elvis kissing Princess Diana. “And this.”

  The cashier turned to get the cigarettes, and Emma risked a sideways glance at the burly man. He was staring at her purchases.

  Her hands were shaking as she reached into her wallet for her credit card. Had her luck finally changed? Surely this would be enough to convince Beddington he’d made a terrible mistake.

  The cashier bagged up everything, and Emma stepped aside to wait for Kenny. The burly man bought a bottle of sunblock and left the store. She saw him pause outside, then cross the street, and she would bet everything she owned that he’d be lurking in his car when they came out.

  Kenny approached the register and paid for his laces. “Sorry it took me so long. They had to go in the back to get the right length.” He spotted the bulging plastic bag she was carrying. “That’s a lot of film.”

  “There were a few other things I needed.” She looped the handles together so he couldn’t see inside, then drew the bag closer to her body. Her studied her for a moment, then moved toward the door.

  When they left the store, she glanced around for a dark green Taurus, but there were a number of cars parked along the street, and she couldn’t search for it without being obvious. Still, she knew he was there, which meant another golden opportunity lay before her. Her heart raced.

  Now!

  Turning quickly, she threw herself at Kenny. He was taken by surprise, and he stumbled backward only to bang into the brick wall that separated the drugstore from a dry cleaner’s. Ignoring his grunt of pain, she smeared her body against his. Her bag of purchases whacked his thigh as she wound her free arm around his neck and kissed him as hard as she could.

  His words were muffled as his lips moved beneath hers. “What ’n th’ hell’re you doing?”

  “Kiss’ng you.” She kept her mouth smeared to his as she spoke and moved her body. “Put your arm ’round me.”

  “Why’re you wiglin’ like that?”

  “I’m slith’ring.”

  “You’re what?” He started to draw his head back, but she dug her fingers into his hair to hold him in place. Their teeth banged. “Pretend you’re kiss’ng me.”

  “More orders, E’ma?”

  She could feel his jaw tense and knew her habit of taking charge had set him off again. Why hadn’t she been less direct? He was getting ready to push her aside, but he couldn’t do that—not when everything was going so well. She wouldn’t let him.

  She softened her mouth, parted her lips, and gave him everything she had.

  The seconds passed. Oh, my . . . He was really the most intelligent man. It didn’t take more than a moment for him to see things her way.

  His hands settled warm against her back and his own mouth softened in response, then opened. . . .

  His tongue moved, eased inside, and she forgot all about burly men and giving orders. Instead the world cracked open and swallowed her.

  The knowledge that she’d been starved crashed over her as she feasted on his kiss. She wanted his mouth everywhere—at her breasts, her waist, between her legs. Yes, there! She wanted all of him loving her, filling her. She wanted to feel his weight holding her down, experience the resistance of bare skin rubbing together.

  They were making noises—earthy, crude. He was hard against her, ready to penetrate, and she wanted him so badly she nearly sobbed her relief when his hand curled around her bottom.

  He turned her without breaking the kiss so that she was against the brick, and his body shielded her from the street. His hand slipped under her dress to the outside of her thigh. She wore sandals and no stockings—those blessed bare legs!

  His strong fingers curled around her inner thigh. She parted her legs and invited him to that place where he belonged. His hand
went there, cupped her, rubbed—

  A car horn blared.

  Kenny whipped his hand from under her skirt and jumped back. She sagged against the brick. They both gasped for breath.

  He thrust his fingers through his hair. “Shit.”

  The sight of his angry face defeated her. How could he look like that after what they’d just been through?

  He grabbed her elbow and began dragging her toward the car, their beautiful kiss lying in ruins around them. “Don’t you ever do anything like that again!”

  She had to launch a counterattack, but she was too depleted to muster the right words. He pushed her inside the car and was still steaming as he got in himself.

  “We almost did it! Right there in the middle of the busiest street in Wynette, Texas!” The Caddy shot out of its parking space. “Another few seconds, your skirt would have been up around your waist and my pants would have been unzipped, and don’t you try to deny it. Damn it, Emma! I told you yesterday that I wasn’t going to let anything keep me from getting back on the tour, but apparently you weren’t listening. Or maybe you forgot that this happens to be the commissioner’s home-town and everybody knows him.”

  She said nothing.

  He shot out onto the highway. “By tomorrow morning he’ll have heard every detail—how I was groping his wife’s dear, virginal friend right in the middle of Main Street. In case you’re missing the point here, this wasn’t the best way for me to establish my reputation as an athlete with a solid moral character!”

  “Please stop yelling at me.” Perhaps the fact that she’d spoken softly instead of yelling in return made him glance over at her.

  He frowned, sighed. “All right. I know this isn’t all your fault. I could have pushed myself away. I should have. But, damn it, Emma, I’m a man, and that mouth of yours—”

  “I’ve heard more than enough about how bossy I am. If my leadership skills threaten your masculinity, then you’ll simply have to deal with it.”

  He looked startled. “I wasn’t talking about your leadership skills; I was talking about your—Never mind. The thing is, if I’d known I was this irresistible to you, we could have taken care of it in private.”

  He was irresistible to her, but in all the wrong ways. “This didn’t have anything to do with you being irresistible. It had to do with your being handy. The man Beddington hired was watching me, and I had to do something scandalous.”

  “Someone really is following you?”

  “I told you it would happen. Last night he showed up at the Roustabout.”

  “What does he look like?”

  “A large man with a very round head and thinning hair that’s sort of straw-colored. He might drive a dark green Taurus. Do you know him?”

  He stared at her for a very long time. “I might.”

  “Kenny, I only have ten days left before I have to go back to England.”

  “I’m well aware of that fact.” The headlights from an approaching car slashed his face. “So I was being used back there?”

  “It was necessary,” she said stiffly. And then, to reclaim her pride, “You were the only man around.”

  He gave her a long look, then slid his hand lower on the steering wheel. “Don’t even think about trying something like that with Dexter or Ted Beaudine, do you hear me? I mean it, Emma. Those men are off-limits. All men are off-limits.”

  “The story of my life,” she muttered.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Not a thing.” She could have bitten her tongue, and she quickly changed the subject. “I enjoyed watching Peter tonight. He didn’t want to be with anyone but you all evening.”

  “Except his mother when chow time came around.” He slowed as the road that led to his ranch came into view. “I want you to know that I appreciate what you said to Shelby tonight, not to mention the way you put up with everybody. I’ve decided to forgive you for what happened this afternoon.”

  “Hooray,” she said dryly.

  He turned down the drive, then glanced over at her. “You’re gonna play hardball?”

  “I believe so.”

  “I guess I overreacted a little. I should have taken your do-gooder impulses into account when you slapped me. You hurt my feelings, is all.”

  “Well, I certainly know how that feels,” she said pointedly.

  He swung the car into the garage, which opened off the side of the house. “If you’re trying to suggest that I hurt your feelings, forget it. Both of us know that’s impossible because you don’t care one bit about my good opinion.”

  “That’s true,” she replied, just to irritate him.

  But it didn’t work because he grinned and grabbed the plastic sack from her lap. “I’ll carry that inside for you.”

  “No, I—” But he’d already taken it away, and she had to hurry after him into the kitchen.

  The light Patrick had left on threw a soft glow over the furniture in the family area, as well as the colorful canvases on the walls, but she was too intent on getting her sack back to appreciate the decorating. As Kenny walked toward the dining room table, she saw to her dismay that the handles she’d looped together had somehow come unfastened.

  He dropped the sack on the tabletop so that it fell to the side, dumping out some of its contents. “Now, what do we have here?”

  She shot forward, but he’d already picked up the first item that had spilled out.

  “Hemorrhoid cream? That’s a little more than I wanted to know about you, Lady Emma.”

  “It’s not—I don’t actually have—Give that back to me!”

  Ignoring her, he reached into the bag and pulled out a paperback book. “Talking Back to Prozac. You be sure to let me know exactly what to say.”

  “No!” She sprang forward as his hand closed around a plastic bottle. “Give me—”

  He held it just out of her reach and studied the label. “Now, who would have imagined a member of the British aristocracy would have a problem with head lice?”

  “It’s seasonal,” she managed.

  He pushed aside the Camels, the tabloid, and an early pregnancy test kit to pick up a series of small boxes. “Sheik Lubricated, Trojan Ribbed, Ramses Extra, Class Act Ultra Thins. I guess I know who to borrow from if I ever run out.” He pushed away a package of clothesline. “I’m not even going to ask about that.”

  Only one item remained in the bag. Maybe he hadn’t noticed it. Maybe he wouldn’t—

  “Now, what do we have here?” He scooped it out and held it up. “Vaginal moisturizer.” His eyebrows shot together. “What in the hell is this for?”

  Her face flamed. “Well, I don’t know. . . . I would imagine it’s for—”

  “Now, this is where I draw the line! It’s bad enough everybody in town’s going to be thinkin’ I’m sleeping with a depressed, lice-ridden, hemorrhoidal foreigner who likes to be tied up and might be pregnant, although—since she’s just about cornered the market on condoms—I don’t know how that could have happened. But I will not—you listen to me, Emma!—I absolutely will not have anybody thinkin’ a woman of mine needs a vaginal moisturizer, do you hear me?”

  “It was—” She swallowed and tried to speak calmly. “It was an impulse buy.”

  He snorted.

  “I told you Hugh’s man was following me. He came in the drugstore, so I scrambled to buy all this.”

  “He was in the drugstore?”

  “He saw everything!” Her enthusiasm bubbled to the surface. “I think this just might do it! Especially with what happened between us outside the drugstore. I know you weren’t happy about that, but I’ll explain to Francesca the next time we talk. Beddington’s going to be appalled when he hears, and, by this time tomorrow, the engagement has to be over.”

  “This is what your grand plan has come down to? Convincing the duke the two of us are having an affair.”

  “It didn’t start out that way. Honestly. But I need to work with what I have.”

  “And I guess t
hat’s me.” Kenny transferred the vaginal moisturizer from one hand to the other and looked thoughtful. “Emma, you’re making this way too complicated. Just call him up and tell him you’re not marrying him. It isn’t right the way you’re letting him push you around.”

  “I can’t do that. If I make him angry, he’ll close St. Gert’s. I have to be subtle.”

  “Subtle?” He shook his head. “You sure do bring new meaning to that old song about being true to your school.”

  “It’s not just a school. It’s my—”

  “I know. It’s your home. And excuse me for pointing out that’s more than a little pathetic, although, after what you saw tonight of my family at dinner, I guess I don’t have much room to talk.”

  She hesitated. “Peter really is adorable.”

  He smiled. “I have a couple of irons already cut down for him, just waiting till he’s old enough to hit a ball around.”

  “I’m sure he’ll love that. Especially if you’re with him.”

  Silence fell between them. It was night and the house was quiet. Her gaze dipped to his mouth, and she remembered the kiss they’d shared. She wondered if he remembered.

  “I’m going for a swim,” he said abruptly. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He began to walk away, then seemed to remember what he was holding and turned back to put the tube of vaginal moisturizer in her hands. “You’d better hold on to this just in case you completely lose your mind and decide to seduce Dexter O’Conner.”

  Before she could reply, he disappeared.

  Torie stood by herself on the patio smoking her last cigarette of the night. She kept telling herself she was going to quit, and this time she’d do it. As soon as her life settled down.

  A light flickered on above her in Peter’s room. Shelby had gone in to check on him.

  Torie’s heart shriveled with envy. Peter was so dear, so perfect. She loved him with all her heart, yet she could barely stand to look at him. Only once had Shelby broached the subject of Torie being his guardian, and that had been right after he was born. Torie had made certain it never came up again.

  The door that led into the house opened. She looked up, expecting to see her father, but Dexter O’Conner emerged instead.