Angels on Zebras, (Forever Friends, Book 4 of 4)

by Webb, Peggy

  “I don’t think there’s anything that woman can’t do.”

  Not only was Maxie singing, but she was singing well, in a throaty, sexy voice that had every man in Bogart’s spellbound. Joseph was jealous of them all.

  “What was she singing?”

  “ ‘Hard Hearted Hannah.’ “

  “... the vamp of Savannah.” Crash slapped his thigh, laughing. “Great balls of fire, that must have been something.”

  “It was. And it got better when she started to strip.”

  “She stripped? In Tupelo, Mississippi?”

  “Not all the way, but enough.”

  “Enough for what?”

  Enough to make Joseph completely forget that he’d brought another woman to Bogart’s. Enough to give him ideas he’d never had before. Enough to make sitting at his table an act of sheer will.

  She’d started with her jacket, a spangled and fringed bolero. Purple. Folks might have thought she was merely too hot if it hadn’t been for the way she got out of the thing. Slowly. Sensuously. Maxie’s movements had put Joe in mind of a tigress on the prowl. She had actually purred into the mike while she’d removed her jacket.

  She’d worn nothing underneath but a gold spangled bustier. Joseph had actually groaned aloud. Fortunately, the band had been playing too loudly for his date to hear.

  “Enough to make every stud in Bogart’s go wild.”

  “Including you?”

  Joseph ignored that remark. “When she tossed her jacket, she brought down the house. Next came her bangle bracelets, one by one. By now every man in the room is yelling, ‘Take it off. Take it all off.’ “

  “Not even Maxie would go that far. Or did she?”

  “She didn’t. She stopped with her shoes.”

  When the first one had sailed through the air, there’d been a stampede to catch it. A tall, lanky man in a cowboy hat had snagged it. He immediately poured his beer into the shoe and took a long swig. Everybody had yelled like crazy.

  When she’d taken off her second shoe, he had been determined to catch it, no matter who got in his way. And dozens had. Every red-blooded man in the room had vied for Maxie’s second shoe. Fortunately Joseph had the long arms of a very tall man.

  When he’d snatched it out of the air, Maxie had missed a beat in her song. She recovered quickly enough, but that marked the end of her striptease act.

  If Joseph hadn’t caught her shoe, how far would she have gone? With Maxie, you never knew. That was one of the things that made her so exciting.

  “And that’s how I came to have one of Maxie’s shoes. End of story.”

  “Who do you think you’re kidding? I’m your brother, remember? I’ve had your number since we were kids.” Crash rummaged in the refrigerator and came up with fixings for ham and cheese sandwiches. “Want one?”

  “Sure.”

  “Look, first of all you’re out with that woman from the chancery clerk’s office, which means you’ve ended it with Susan. Joe minus one.” Crash didn’t need confirmation. He knew his brother well.

  He passed Joe a sandwich, then made one for himself. “Second, you’re in a place you wouldn’t have been caught dead in last week. I suspect that has something to do with Maxie, but what I don’t know is how she figures in this equation.”

  “She doesn’t. I can’t think of a woman more totally unsuitable for me than Maxie Corban.”

  “That’s what I thought about B. J. when I first met her. And look how all that turned out.”

  “You’re not suggesting that we’re alike, are you?”

  “I don’t know, Joe. For a minute there, I thought you’d discovered you had a heart.”

  “I’ve discovered a number of things, namely that I need a little more excitement in my life. But I’ve never made life-altering decisions based on messy emotions, and I don’t intend to start now.”

  “Someday I’ll remind you of that.”

  Joseph put the pie plates in the sink and turned on the water.

  “Don’t make any rash judgments because of one incident at Bogart’s, Crash. I’m making a few changes in my life, that’s all.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  The gold shoe sat on the table between them.

  “I thought you might like to have the shoe you lost,” Joseph said.

  “I didn’t lose it,” Maxie said. “I tossed it.” Suddenly she began to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Me. You. Us. This whole situation. I suddenly had a ridiculous vision of myself as Cinderella and you as Prince Charming.”

  Maxie could tell by his smile that he was pleased. Puffing up his ego was the last thing in the world she wanted to do for him. She plucked the shoe off the table and tossed it into a desk drawer, then sat back down to face her opponent.

  He was dressed casually, his shirt open at the neck. There was too much temptation for her. Maxie wished for his three-piece suit. Not that he didn’t look good in suits, but more of him was covered.

  “You got my letter,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  Obviously that’s why he had come. How else could she explain Joseph Beauregard sitting in her office at the end of the day? And where was Claude when she needed him? It didn’t take that long to go to the post office and fetch the mail.

  “I suppose you want to talk about the party.”

  “I have two words to say about the party. No zebras.”

  “You could have said that in a note. I thought we agreed. No personal contact. Communication by courier only.”

  “That was your idea, not mine. Anyhow, I’m changing the rules.” His smile was slow and easy. “All of them.”

  Maxie’s heart did a somersault. For a moment she pictured herself floating across the room into Joseph’s arms, pictured the two of them dancing slowly while celestial music played, pictured them settling in front of a fireplace making mad, passionate love.

  She’d better pull herself together, and fast.

  For one thing, her office didn’t have a fireplace. For another, she wasn’t about to make a fool of herself over a man who ditched his fiancee and immediately squired a woman completely opposite to her out for a night on the town.

  She was still steaming over the two of them at Bogart’s, cuddled into a cozy corner. Not that she wanted him for herself, of course. He was off-limits.

  “Obviously,” she said.

  His grin was wicked. “You’re referring, of course, to last night.”

  “Off with the old, on with the new. Or used, as the case may be.”

  “The cat has claws.”

  “Watch out or you might get scratched.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  Maxie didn’t know what to think about this turn of events. She’d never met a man who was so many different people, all rolled into one. And every single one of them fascinated her.

  Still, she was cautious. Her track record was atrocious, her history with Joseph, appalling. Besides all that, there was her sister to think of.

  Still, Joseph tugged at her heart in a way no man ever had. If he kept on sitting in her office looking delicious, she’d do something foolish.

  She deliberately looked at her watch. Under ordinary circumstances she would never be so rude, but these were extraordinary circumstances.

  “If you have nothing else to say about the party, I do have work to do.”

  “I didn’t come to see you about the baby’s party. I came on business.”

  “What kind of business?”

  She regretted her words the minute they were out of her mouth.

  “What did you have in mind, Maxie?”

  He grinned wickedly. She kept a careful rein on her tart tongue.

  “Interior design, of course. After all, I am Magic Maxie.”

  “You’re magic, all right.”

  He pulled out his pipe and tamped in tobacco, eyeing her over the bowl. If he hoped for a reaction from her, she planned to disappoint him.

  “You said you
came on business.”

  “Yes. I want to hire you to redecorate my master suite.”

  “In your office?”

  “No. In my home. My bedroom.”

  She couldn’t think of a worse situation, cooped up all day with his personal belongings. His shirts and ties. His socks and shorts. She wondered whether he wore briefs or boxers. Probably boxers. She’d never trusted a man who wore boxers.

  “We’re happy to have you as a client.”

  Glad for the opportunity to move farther away, she went to her desk and thumbed through her appointment book.

  “We’ll need to consult you from time to time, of course. I’m on a job right now, but I can make your first appointment with Claude sometime next week. Is that satisfactory?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “I want you.”

  The emphasis he put on the words made her hot all over.

  “I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

  “Then we don’t have a deal.” He stood up. “I want only you.”

  She felt a hot flush creep into her face. Was he doing that deliberately?

  “With the party coming up and the job I’m on...”

  “You can do the job whenever you’re free. I don’t need to consult you.” He tossed his house key onto the table. “You have carte blanche.”

  It was a dream job. And an opportunity too good to resist.

  “You’re sure about that?” She suppressed her grin.

  “Absolutely. I know you’re good.”

  His face lit with devilment. Was he toying with her again?

  “Decorate the suite as if it were your own. I’ll pay for whatever you do.”

  “All right, then. I’ll do the job. I have only one stipulation. Once I start, you can’t come into the suite.”

  “No problem. I’ll move my things into one of the other bedrooms. Just let me know when.”

  “I think I can reshuffle my schedule and start tomorrow.”

  She didn’t offer to shake hands, and neither did he. After the door closed behind him, Maxie began to laugh.

  Any man who would leave her tumbled on the sofa because of a fiancee then turn up a few nights later with another woman deserved whatever he got.

  “You’ll pay, all right.”

  She raced to her supply closet and dragged out a wad of fabric swatches.

  “Good Lord.” Claude stood in the middle of the office, with one hand clutching the mail and the other clutching his heart. “What is it?”

  Maxie held up the swatch of fabric. “What do you think?”

  “I think it deserves its own cage or else a decent burial.”

  “Perfect. That’s what I think too.” She set it aside, then jotted notes.

  “You’re not planning on using that?”

  “I am.”

  Humming, Maxie flipped open a catalog and began to circle items. Curious, Claude peered over her shoulder.

  “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not serious?... You are serious. Good Lord, I’ve got to have tea.”

  “Fix me a cup too.”

  He heaped them both with sugar and came back to the table so he could look over her shoulder. Every time she circled an item he gasped.

  “Maxie, what kind of job is this?”

  “Revenge.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  It wasn’t fair that the scent of Joseph’s aftershave lingered in his bedroom. It wasn’t fair that he’d left his robe hanging on the bathroom door or that his damp towel was still in the shower stall.

  “Maxie, get a grip,” she told herself.

  She was not there to drive herself crazy with wild, impossible dreams, she was there for revenge.

  The first thing that had to go was the bedding. Maxie pulled the green comforter off and piled it in the middle of the floor. She had no illusions about what she was doing. She was ridding the bedroom of everything his fiancee had touched. She didn’t plan to leave a single reminder of the oh-so-correct Susan.

  With the spread off, she placed the swatch of leopard-print velour on his sheets. It gave exactly the touch she had in mind. Let him romp with his latest conquest on that.

  Her conscience pricked her only slightly as she picked up the bedside phone and placed an order for the custom-made comforter.

  “You want to cat around, Joseph Beauregard? Never fear, Magic Maxie is here. I’ll create a lair worthy of your newfound talents.”

  She turned on the radio, found a station that played lively music to her liking, then immersed herself in her decorating task.

  o0o

  Joseph knew when he let himself in the front door that Maxie was in his house. He’d thought of nothing else all day.

  When he hung up his jacket, he caught sight of something bright red. Her sweater was hanging in his closet.

  He went toward the kitchen, intending to make himself a snack, then settle into his den with the Wall Street Journal. Music drifted down the staircase, something lively. He knew the tune but not the words.

  Joseph started humming, his feet started tapping, and before you could blink an eye he bounded up the stairs, two at a time. Maxie was singing along with the radio.

  He stood in the hallway, listening. Now he knew why the tune was so familiar. Judy Garland had sung it in A Star Is Born—”Lose That Long Face.”

  It was impossible not to smile. Joseph realized he’d been doing a lot of that lately, especially today while he’d sat at his desk picturing Maxie in his house.

  What was she doing in there? Whatever it was, she was having fun. Would she put touches of red in his bedroom? Something purple? Perhaps a throw pillow.

  With his hand on the knob, he paused. She’d given specific instructions. He was not to enter his suite until she’d finished the job.

  Instead, he knocked on the door.

  There was silence, then Maxie called, “Who is it?”

  “Joe.”

  “Joe?” The door opened a crack. He saw a pert nose, the brightest blue eyes this side of heaven, tousled red hair, and fingernails painted yellow. They looked like sunshine.

  “You’re home.” She glanced at her watch. “I didn’t expect you.”

  “I took off early today. I knew you’d be here decorating.”

  “You can’t come in. I want to surprise you.”

  Warmth flooded through him. He couldn’t remember ever being with a woman who cared enough about him to want to surprise him.

  “Why are you here?” she said.

  “I live here.”

  “I mean, at this door.”

  From long practice, Joe knew how to think on his feet. “I forgot to get my handkerchiefs.”

  “I’ll get them for you. Where are they?”

  “Top drawer of the antique chest.”

  With his ear pressed against the door, he unabashedly eavesdropped. She opened the drawer, then silence. Then he heard her say something. Pressing closer to the door, he deciphered the words.

  “Damn, damn damn,” she said. “Jockeys, size thirty-four.”

  Two spots of bright pink colored her cheeks when she opened the door.

  “Here.” She thrust the handkerchiefs through the crack, then tried to slam the door.

  “Wait.” Now what? All Joseph knew was that he couldn’t let her go back behind the closed door. “Do you want some pie? It’s lemon icebox.”

  “Hmmm.”

  She flicked the tip of her tongue over her bottom lip. It was one of the most erotic gestures Joe had ever seen. That small movement, combined with the delicious love-sound she’d made excited him more than all his former fiancee’s foreplay.

  Daily he saw fresh evidence that he’d done the right thing.

  “I have lemonade,” he said. “To cool us off.”

  “Lemonade?” She brushed a damp lock of hair off her forehead. “I really shouldn’t. I have work to do.”

  “It won’t take long.”

&n
bsp; “All right. Even slaves need breaks. I’ll just have a quickie.”

  If she had any experience reading a man’s eyes, she’d know beyond a shadow of a doubt what he wanted to do: He wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon in a slow tango of love.

  And when it was over, when he’d taken the edge off his hunger, he wanted to carry her to his king-size bed, wrap his arms around her, and sleep until desire spurred him awake. Then he wanted to start with her, all over again.

  He could tell by her expression that she knew exactly what he was thinking. What he couldn’t tell was whether or not she liked it.

  “Close your eyes,” she said.

  “Why? Don’t you like what you see in them?”

  Her pink tongue appeared once more, briefly, leaving her bottom lip wet and slick and kissable.

  “I don’t want you to see inside when I come out.” Obediently he closed his eyes. “I’ll tell you when to open them.” He heard the click of the door. “All right. You can open them now.”

  Maxie took his breath away. Up close she was delicious, flushed skin and dewy lips. Bangles sparkled on her arms, a tiered denim skirt swayed around her legs, and a white peasant blouse slid off one shoulder.

  “I’m starved,” she said.

  “Me too.” He devoured her with his eyes.

  “Shall we eat?”

  “I’d like nothing better.”

  Riveted, they stood in the hall, body heat rising between them, eyes locked, hips swaying. He couldn’t keep his hands off her.

  Her skin was like silk. He slid his fingers over her scented skin, down her neck, and across her bare shoulder. Maxie sucked in a sharp breath.

  His eyes never leaving hers, Joe bent down and traced the path with his lips. One touch was not enough. One taste only whetted his appetite for more.

  “Joe...”

  Her voice issued a warning, but her eyes issued an invitation. He accepted.

  He crushed her hard against his body, bent swiftly, and captured her lips. She responded with an eagerness that took his breath away. Theirs was not the soft experimental kiss of strangers but the deep, hungry kiss of lovers.

  Her lips were wet, open, wild. He plunged his tongue inside, lapping up her delicious juices, exploring her soft recesses. She made delirious love-sounds.

  Joe felt as if he were going to explode. Bracing her against the wall, he thrust with tongue and hips in a rhythm as old as time. Her skirt swayed around them. Her fragrance invaded his already heightened senses, spurring him on.