“Oh, there’s Shelli standing all alone,” Roger said. “I’m sure she has lots to talk about.”
Talia stiffened and dug her heels into the carpet. Shelli was pleasant enough but she’d rather be insulted by the bitches in the kitchen. “I really don’t think—”
It was too late. “Shelli, look who I found,” he called.
Shelli Harrington turned and her curls bounced. Her blue eyes widened dramatically. “Talia!”
Talia took a small step back when the woman nearly pounced on her. For a split second, she was terrified that somehow the Harringtons had found out what she’d done.
“Did you hear what happened?”
The feeling fizzled when she realized that the blonde was just happy to have a new listener for her story. Talia looked beseechingly at Roger but he was already making a quick exit to the kitchen. In resignation, she turned back to Shelli.
“I heard,” she said carefully. “I’m very sorry.”
“Can you believe that my little kitty was stolen right out from under our noses?”
Talia glanced around, trying to find somebody to rescue her, but there was no one. She was trapped.
“And during our party,” Shelli pouted. “I’m just so…so…mad.”
“It was a very nice piece.”
“It was my favorite. I tried to tell that to the detective but he didn’t seem to care.”
Talia’s attention suddenly focused. “Detective? Do you mean Kinkade? Is he still working on the case?”
Shelli’s pout deepened. “He says he is but I don’t think he’s working very hard.”
Talia tried not to act too interested but it was nearly impossible. She hadn’t seen the detective since he’d left her the other day. She’d tried to convince herself that was because he’d given up but she’d known better. The intelligence behind that man’s intense eyes scared her. Thoughts of him haunted her day and night. Especially at night…
“Has he got any leads?”
“I don’t know. If he was any good, he would have found it by now, don’t you think?”
It was odd but Talia felt her spine stiffening. She didn’t doubt Kinkade’s competence in the least. “I’m sure he’s using all his resources.”
“Oh well, it doesn’t matter. Brent bought me a new kitty.” Shelli’s spirits brightened considerably. “It’s Egyptian. Did you know that they worshipped cats?”
“I’d heard that somewhere,” Talia said, gritting her teeth. The woman’s nonchalance was astounding. The school kids didn’t have enough to buy finger paint but she could jump at whim from one priceless bauble to the next.
“Brent let me pick it out. Isn’t he just the sweetest man you ever met?”
Sweet? Talia’s jaw clenched so hard, her teeth nearly cracked. If that meant the same as “repugnant”, then she agreed whole-heartedly.
“He really is. He’s sweet and strong and faithful.” Shelli paused and a wistful expression entered her puppy dog eyes. “I wish you could find somebody like him.”
Talia had had enough. “Unfortunately, I’m still kissing frogs. I’m sorry but I really must find the ladies’ room. If you’ll excuse me…”
It wasn’t the slickest of exits but, then again, the fashion doll probably didn’t notice. Talia darted out of the room and down the hallway. It was mercifully empty.
Dear God, she thought as she sought the safety of the bathroom. If she’d known that the likes of Ramona Gellar and the Harringtons were going to be here, she never would have come. She’d only brought enough reserves to battle Lydia.
She scowled as she looked into the mirror. New Covington had never been known for its hospitality. Her father had made enough money for his family to be welcomed into the upper crust crowd; the money just hadn’t aged enough for them to be welcomed graciously. She figured they had another two or three generations before that happened.
Sighing, she straightened her spine and tucked back a stray hair. She needed to concentrate on the auction. That was the real reason why she’d come. If she could get one or even two donations tonight, it would make the evening worthwhile.
Feeling determined, she opened the bathroom door and started down the hallway. She hadn’t made it two steps before she sensed somebody’s presence behind her. She gasped when, all of a sudden, she was caught and pulled backwards.
“Hey, Tally.”
Warms hands slipped under her dress at the waist. She stiffened when they began to slide upward.
“Brent!” If she hadn’t recognized the voice, she would have recognized the touch.
“Trying to avoid me?” he whispered.
“Let go of me!”
Her demand came too late. His searching hands had already made a discovery.
“Whoa!” he said dramatically. “What have we here?”
Talia was mortified. Absolutely mortified. She’d thought she’d learned her lesson after the other night. She hadn’t wanted to go braless, so she’d found other means of support. She’d never dreamed that Brent would be here or that he’d find the pasties she’d specifically bought to go with the dress.
“Now this is interesting,” he breathed into her ear.
His fingers traced the edges of the self-adhesive cups and her nerve endings tingled.
“Take your hands off of me,” she hissed.
She couldn’t believe his audacity. Did he assume he could get away with anything now that he’d had her? For goodness sake, his wife was in the next room.
She struggled to get away but she was no match for his strength. He pulled her bare back tight against his body. One leg slipped between hers and his hard cock prodded at her buttocks. She was infuriated by the answering twinge low in her belly.
“Are you sure?” he asked as his lips found the soft skin at the side of her neck. His hands pushed upward, plumping her breasts obscenely. “I think you like my hands on you.”
“I don’t.” A shiver of disgust and excitement coursed down Talia’s spine. She struggled but he just chuckled with amusement. She hated him. She downright hated him.
“You love it when I touch you. You’ve told me so.”
She wasn’t the violent type but she’d already had to deal with Lydia, Ramona and Shelli. The fuse on her temper was short. Clenching her fist, she swung her arm forward, intending to send an elbow straight back into Brent’s solar plexus.
She wasn’t given the opportunity, because he suddenly yanked on the material covering her right breast. The adhesive clung to her skin like a well-adhered bandage before ripping loose.
“Ahhh!” she cried as hot pinpricks of pain shot through her tender breast.
“Look at that,” he whispered as he pulled the cup out from under her dress. He dangled it in front of her face.
“Brent!” she whispered desperately. “Please!”
Tears pricked at her eyes. Her breast felt as if it was ablaze but the sting of her humiliation was even worse. She’d known there would be consequences from the other night but she hadn’t realized how heavy her penance would be. Was this how her life was going to be from now on? Brent had been bad before but now it was as if nothing was holding him back. Was she to be his plaything? A sex toy, ever at his beck and call?
He chuckled in her ear. “Since you ask so nicely…”
She went straight up on her tiptoes when her other breast was suddenly treated in the same harsh manner. The pasty clung to her sensitive skin and she bit her lip as he tugged and tugged. It finally turned loose and her belly clenched with excitement.
Brent nipped at her ear and wiggled the pasties in front of her face. He tossed them onto the floor and she looked at them anxiously. Anyone could find them there.
“That’s better,” he said.
She shuddered when his rough hands slipped under the material of her dress to cup her again.
“Such pretty titties,” he crooned as his fingers captured her nipples. “I don’t know why you keep trying to hide them from me.”
T
he leg between hers pressed harder and Talia’s body quickened. As much as she fought it, wetness was gathering in her pussy. His marauding hands plucked at her raw nipples and her resistance began to melt.
“Talia?”
The sound of her name had them both freezing.
“Brent? Dinner is served.”
Talia batted at Brent’s hands when she recognized Roger’s voice. He reluctantly let her go and she moved as far away from him as she could get. She was unbearably self-conscious when their host came around the corner. Without the pasties, she felt naked. She almost died when Roger stepped on them.
“Are you two hungry?” he asked. “The rest of the guests are already seated.”
He held out his arm and she quickly stepped forward to take it. She kicked the pasties under the hallway table as best she could and leaned on her adoptive uncle for support. The side of her breast brushed against his arm and she was discomfited when her nipple tightened reflexively.
Oh, dear God.
Heads turned as they entered the dining room. Lydia scowled and Talia’s stomach dropped. She glanced down covertly to see how lewd she looked. Her red dress stood out like a beacon. Suddenly, the side slit seemed too high and the waist too snug. The halter style framed her overly perky tits and two matching bumps pressed at the material.
She quickly took her seat beside Edward Jones. Roger sat down at the head of the table next to her and she was horrified when his gaze dropped to her chest. He seemed embarrassed, but not enough to look away. The inadvertent attention made her want to just sink under the table and disappear.
To make matters worse, Brent sat down across the table from her. There was nothing she could do to stop his blatant stare. Her nipples seemed to stiffen at his command. Under the table, Roger’s pant leg brushed against her bare calf and Talia’s senses screamed. She’d never felt so finely tuned in her life. Even that slight touch had her system overreacting.
Good Lord, how was she going to make it through the evening?
Discussions broke out in small groups around the table and she found herself left with her two admirers. She had to count small favors, though. Even with them ogling her, it was better than sitting at the other end of the table with the shrew crew.
“So how are you keeping yourself busy these days, my dear?” Roger asked, finally tearing his gaze from her when the soup was served. “Are things going well at your shop?”
“We’re having a good season,” she said.
“And the Foundation? How is that going?”
There it was—the opening she needed. She had to come away from this dinner party with something positive. Now was as good a time as any to broach the subject of the charity auction. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.”
“Of course,” Roger said. He patted his napkin against his lips and leaned back in his chair. “How can I help?”
She was heartened by his response and sat a little straighter in her chair. She paused, though, when both men’s attention was diverted to the jiggling of her breasts. With the way they were looking at her, she could practically feel them sharing her.
“Um, we’re in the initial planning stages for a new fundraising event,” she said, trying to push the thought from her head. “We’ve decided to put on an auction to raise money for the after-school arts program.”
“Are you still on that?” Brent said.
“Yes,” she said with a hard-edged smile. “The program was important to my father and it’s important to me. I was wondering if either of you would be interested in donating an item to be auctioned off.”
Brent winked at her. “You know I’ll always be willing to donate to you, Tally.”
She felt something suddenly press into her crotch. Looking down, she saw Brent’s foot. Her pussy clenched at the memory of one particular donation and she was incensed. Reaching between her legs, she pushed hard at him until he removed his wiggling toes.
“We might have something around here that we could contribute,” Roger said. His eyebrows lowered as he looked down the table. “What do you say, Lydia?”
Lydia continued chatting noisily with Shelli and Ramona.
Roger cleared his throat. “Lydia.”
His wife threw him an exasperated look. “I was in the middle of a conversation, darling. What do you want?”
Roger ran a finger around the edge of his collar. “I’m sorry, dear. Talia asked me if we’d like to contribute something to an auction she’s holding for her Foundation.”
Lydia rolled her eyes and settled her elbows on the table. “For God’s sake, we’ve already given to so many causes. What does she mean by ‘something’? More money, I assume?”
Talia felt heat creep up her chest and into her face. The woman was acting as if she wasn’t even at the table. “Actually, we’re not looking for monetary contributions,” she said tightly.
“Well, thank goodness for small favors.” Lydia threw back a king-sized gulp of her latest drink.
Talia struggled to keep her anger in check. “We’re looking for art pieces. For instance, I’ll probably donate a Turkish rug from my shop. It’s for a good cause.”
“And what cause is that, honey?” The question came from Ramona Gellar.
“The after-school arts program for inner-city kids. The Arts Council recently stopped its support.” Talia threw a nasty look at Brent for good measure. “The program is languishing.”
“I just don’t understand that,” Lydia said.
Talia was taken somewhat aback. She’d never known the woman to side with her.
“Why can’t those people pull themselves up by their bootstraps? I mean, really. How many thousands of dollars have already been contributed to that black hole? That rinky-dink program should be self-supporting by now.”
“Hear, hear,” Ramona piped in. “Very astute of you, dear.”
Fury caught Talia unprepared. Why, the snotty, rich bitches! Who did Lydia think she was? She hadn’t earned a penny of the Thorton money. She’d been Roger’s secretary when she’d lassoed him.
“Now, Lydia,” Roger said cajolingly. “We’ve got more art around here than we know what to do with. Certainly we can find one piece. It’s for charity.”
“Certainly, we can not. I’m tired of all these so-called nonprofits taking money from my pocket.”
Talia’s half-finished meal threatened to come up.
Of all people, Brent came to her rescue. “Oh, what the hell,” he said, “I’ll find something. Come over to my place tomorrow and we’ll discuss it.”
The gesture would have been appreciated if it hadn’t been accompanied by another provocative nudge of his foot. Talia knew the price she’d have to pay if he got her alone to “discuss” things. “Thank you, that’s very generous of you,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
She was so angry at Lydia, she could hardly think. If she’d been any closer, she would have been tempted to give a solid yank on the woman’s frosted hair. Roger threw her a sad smile and shrugged.
“I’d like to—”
“Roger!” Lydia snapped.
“But I can’t,” he said, giving in. “Maybe another time.”
“Over my dead body,” his wife mumbled.
Something inside Talia snapped. Wanna bet?
She was so tired of being the woman’s punching bag. It had been going on ever since she’d been a teenager. She’d done nothing to deserve it but she’d put up with it for years.
Tonight, Lydia had stepped over the line. The Foundation’s work was important but those children were priceless. She might not think they deserved a contribution but she was going to give one anyway.
A big one.
As soon as the decision was made, a soothing calmness overcame Talia. She was going to do it again—this time, willfully and knowingly.
She was going to steal.
And she was going to let herself enjoy it.
In her head, she knew it was wrong and immoral. In her heart, t
hough, it felt right. Sometimes the end did justify the means.
“I understand, Roger,” she said amiably. “I’m sure there are others like Brent who can help this time.”
“You know I’ll always take care of you, baby,” Brent said seductively.
She felt his foot again but, this time, she was ready with her salad fork. She gave his intrusive toes a solid jab and his knee banged against the table. “We’d be delighted with anything you could contribute,” she said, smiling brightly.
The rest of the meal passed as a blur. If anything snide was said, Talia didn’t hear it. She was too busy planning. The adrenaline coursing through her body was nearly intoxicating. It couldn’t be an impulsive snatch-and-grab this time. No, she was going to have to be more cunning than that.
Cunning and careful.
She couldn’t undergo the scrutiny she’d suffered this week again. As handsome as Detective Kinkade was, she hoped she never saw him again.
The seven-course meal took forever. Even after her plan was fully mapped out, Talia had to suffer through discussions about the stock market, the Thorton’s wine collection and Edward Jones’ Civil War fascination. Lydia’s verbal jabs and Brent’s physical come-ons became tiring but she fended them off as well as she could. As soon as dessert was over, she excused herself from the table.
Roger was disappointed when she gathered her shawl but he seemed to understand. “I’m sorry about tonight,” he said as he walked her down the front steps. “I’ll look around the house and see if I can find something Lydia won’t notice missing.”
“So will I,” Talia muttered under her breath as she slid into the driver’s seat of her car. She rolled down the window. “Thank you for dinner, Uncle Roger. The meal was excellent.”
“And you looked ravishing. Drive safely, dear.”
“I will. Goodnight.”
The moment she stepped on the gas, Talia felt her anticipation sharpen. She’d told herself she’d never get caught in this situation again but the fine line between right and wrong was blurring. Was it right for someone like Lydia Thorton to hoard money that others needed so desperately? Was it right for kids like Linc to go without?
On the Prowl Page 8
