"Tell her how exhausted I've been, how I've been working myself to a frazzle," he appealed to Bailey.
"He's definitely frazzled," Bailey agreed, trying to stifle her own laughter.
"I believe you," Paula said. "If you were making it up, surely you could do better than that."
"I considered it," Gordon admitted, "but I didn't think you'd believe judges held court twenty-four hours a day and sequestered attorneys or that I'd been in the emergency room at the hospital all night if I showed up with no cuts or bruises."
"Good thinking."
"You believe me? Can I put this down?" When Paula inclined her head, he set the cushion on the dining room table. "And everything's all right." He sounded a little dubious. Paula hadn't moved, didn't appear to be giving him much feedback. "And we can carry on even if it is a few hours later."
"What, exactly, did you have in mind?"
"I can get these great box seats at the Prairie Race Track. How about we go watch the ponies run, then maybe some Italian food? I know this place in Westport—"
"On one condition."
Bailey didn't like the expression on Paula's face, a cross between a smirk and a sneer.
Gordon held one hand over his heart and raised the other. "I promise not to leave your sight the entire evening. If I fall asleep, you can just reach over and tap me on the shoulder."
"Bailey and Austin have to go with us."
"No problem," Gordon agreed.
"No way!" Bailey exclaimed so vehemently Samantha opened one eye and glared at her.
CHAPTER 11
Austin was studying his photographs, contemplating exactly when and how he should spring his latest triumph on Bailey, when Gordon phoned.
"Going to the races sounds like a super idea," Austin agreed, though the "super" part had nothing to do with horses. After last night at the B&B Lounge, he couldn't wait to see Bailey again, and Gordon's offer provided him with the perfect excuse. Now that he'd seen her feelings unmasked, she couldn't again retreat into her glacial persona.
Not to mention that he'd also have the perfect opportunity to drop little hints all afternoon, have her on pins and needles wondering how much he knew about Candy Miller, then save the real surprise for later, maybe even for the trial. Facing Bailey across a courtroom should be a real experience.
He looked at the series of photographs one more time before going in to shower and change clothes. The pictures weren't what he'd expected, but in a way they were even better.
The scam he'd tried to work was an old one, and he'd been a little ashamed of himself for not coming up with something better. But after the fiasco at the bar, he had to do something. So he bought a case of inexpensive wine, taped a bow to the top, and took it to Candy Miller's house early Saturday morning. Leaving it in Candy's front yard beside her newspaper, he parked down the street with his camera equipped with a telescopic lens and waited. And waited. Candy was not an early riser.
Finally, shortly after ten o'clock, when Austin's boredom had reached major proportions and his legs were numb from sitting, Candy appeared. Wearing a magenta robe, hair shooting out in irregular spikes, she staggered through the doorway and scanned the yard. Catching sight of the box, she approached it warily, and Austin readied his camera, hoping for a good shot of her lifting the heavy carton, a difficult task for someone with an injured back. But he was disappointed. Snatching up the newspaper, she tottered back into the house.
Austin lowered the camera. Maybe he should have opted for something not quite so heavy. If she brought out a dolly to carry it on, he'd just be out one case of wine, and Bailey would still have the upper hand.
Then his lips curved upward in a smile and he began snapping away as Candy reemerged from the house with Alvin Wilson, the man who’d run into her car, in his bathrobe. The two of them lugged the box inside while Candy talked and laughed.
And Austin captured it on film for posterity.
He went home, printed out the pictures, had the evidence in his hands, and couldn't wait to confront Bailey. Now the only thing was to figure out how to go about it in the best possible way, a way calculated to let her know he'd won this one.
Austin hummed as he slapped on a little extra cologne. This should be a real surprise. Though he was pretty sure Bailey knew something wasn't right with her client, he couldn't believe she knew the full extent of the woman's duplicity. However pushy and argumentative she might be, he didn't doubt her integrity for a minute. If she knew Candy Miller was a fraud, she'd never represent the woman.
Of course, he couldn't be one hundred percent positive about Candy Miller. There was no law against having an affair with your opponent. But it would create a lot of doubt in the minds of a jury.
He smiled at his image in the mirror. This could be quite a battle, and he had some great ideas about how they could celebrate when it was all over, how he would light sparks in those cool, green eyes.
Half an hour later he knocked on her door, knowing Bailey well enough to be prepared for anything. She didn't disappoint him. Smiling warmly, she shook his hand and welcomed him as a long-lost friend. She didn't say much on the drive to the track, but that could have been because it took Paula and Gordon most of the trip to make a coherent tale of a purple teddy bear.
However, they had barely settled into their box seats at the track when Bailey stood and took his arm. "Let's go get some cold drinks," she urged. "Paula, Gordon, soda or beer?"
"You stay here, Bailey. I'll go with Austin," Gordon offered, starting to rise, but Bailey gently pushed him back down as her grip on Austin's arm tightened.
"That's okay. Austin and I have something we need to talk about."
At least they were in agreement about that. He gladly accompanied her to the refreshment stand.
As they took their place in line, she turned to him.
"Gordon and Paula need some time alone," she said. "They're having problems."
"So I gathered from the teddy bear tale," he agreed.
"We also need to pretend to get along when we're around them. Do you think you can do that? Just for the day?"
Her tone irritated him. He'd thought they were getting along. As usual, she'd managed to arouse him in one way or another.
"I can if you can," he snapped, then, when she glared at him, he placed an arm around her shoulders and smiled through gritted teeth. "Of course I can." Seeing the concern for their friends so evident on her face and feeling her slim shoulders beneath his arm, he almost believed he could.
After delivering the drinks, they went downstairs together, ostensibly to watch the horses and jockeys when they warmed up.
"Look at the sleek muscles on number five," she said, pointing to the animal he had just been admiring.
Her words brought his attention to the sleek muscles outlined by her tight blue jeans. "The jockey's overweight," he grumbled, irritated at the line his thoughts had so easily taken even though she'd resumed her cool aloofness. Then he remembered his promise of only a few minutes before. "But it is a beautiful animal. What do you think about number two? His trainer's racked up a pretty impressive record of wins."
She looked at him in surprise. "Come here a lot, do you?"
Austin leaned against the rail, enjoying his advantage. He had the edge on her now. Then, with a shrug, he tossed it away. "I have a friend in St. Louis," he said. "He owns a horse and loves to talk."
She nodded slowly, turned back to the horses and studied them for a moment, then moved a few inches closer to him. "I think two looks tired today. Do you think the trainer's record is good enough to compensate for that?"
It wasn't possible. Bailey hadn't really asked for his advice. He looked at the horse, trying to see what she saw. The animal looked fine to him. "Why do you think he looks tired?" he finally asked.
"She just seems a little off her stride. Look at her gait. "
Austin looked. He didn't see anything wrong. "Studied a lot of horses' gaits, have you?" he asked, mimicking her earli
er question.
She leaned on the rail, watching the animals. "A few. You're forgetting I grew up in a small town, surrounded by farms. I've seen a few horses in my lifetime. "
He digested the information for a moment. "So which ones look good?"
Bailey couldn't believe it. Austin was actually asking her opinion about something. Not only was that a first for him, but it seemed somehow to negate the foolish image she'd projected the night before. Some of the tension left her shoulders and neck.
She studied the animals intently, looking for sleek muscles, easy gaits, the tilt of a head, the indefinables that said a horse or a human would be a fast runner, a determined competitor.
As they stood together at the rail, Austin casually draped his arm over her shoulders, sending her pulse on a race of its own. She had to admit, he had a way of generating excitement even when they weren't fighting. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to act as unconcerned as he.
She suggested a couple of horses, and Austin held the racing form so they could both study it. Leaning his head close to hers, he discussed jockeys, trainers, records, and other variables.
"Okay," he finally said. "My money's on number nine."
When she agreed, they started back inside to place their bets. His arm dropped to her waist, and she was puzzled to find his touch not only unbearably exciting, but comfortable at the same time. Had her embarrassment been so great the night before that nothing would bother her now? Or maybe, having survived the situation, having seen each other at their worst, they no longer had a need for constraint. In any event, she moved closer to him.
When they returned to the box, Paula looked up. "Who've you got?" she asked.
"Nine," Bailey answered, settling into a chair. "Surprise Finish. What about you?"
"Prince Charming. How could I resist? What's your choice, Austin?"
"Nine," he replied, sitting next to Bailey, taking her hand, and smiling conspiratorily.
From the corner of her eye, she caught the exchange of astonished glances between Paula and Gordon.
"You both chose the same horse?" Paula asked in amazement.
This was almost as much fun as beating Austin at something.
When Surprise Finish came in first, Paula jumped to her feet. "You won!" she exclaimed, clapping.
"Umm-hmm," Bailey agreed, restraining her own excitement, trying to act as though there had never been a doubt in her mind.
"Beginner's luck," Gordon assured Paula, tearing up his ticket and tossing the confetti into the air. "They don't have a great system like you do. Who do you like in the second?"
"As a matter of fact, we do have a system," Austin said, standing and looking smug. "Shall we go talk directly to the horses again, partner?" He extended an arm, and Bailey took it, smiling up at him as they strolled away.
Since Bailey and Austin maintained ill-gotten gains had to be spent right away, they treated Paula and Gordon to dinner with their winnings acquired from a large percentage of the races.
"Well," Gordon drawled as they strolled across the parking lot of the restaurant to his car, "how about we all go by my place for an after-dinner drink?"
The afternoon and evening had been wonderful, and Bailey really didn't want it to end. However, the way Gordon and Paula looked as they walked hand in hand, gazing at each other with silly grins on their faces, told her they would probably just as soon have that drink alone.
"It's been a long day," she said.
"Yes, it has. I'm beat," Austin added.
Though he was only agreeing with her, Bailey didn't want him to want the day to end. She cast a surreptitious glance at him, but could tell nothing from his expression.
"Would you mind dropping us by Bailey's place so I can get my car?" Austin asked.
"No problem," Gordon replied.
Well, Bailey thought, examining the data, Austin had said, dropping us, but then he'd referred to getting his car. The evidence concerning the end of the evening was inconclusive.
Gordon drove to her condo and let them out. Austin stood beside her in the parking lot and waved as Gordon and Paula drove away.
"We really had them going," he said, taking her hand as they strolled down the sidewalk and up the stairs to her door.
"I think Paula gave serious consideration to the idea we really were talking to the horses!" Bailey agreed, unlocking the door then reaching down to catch Samantha as she dashed out.
"They'd never believe the truth if we told them." They looked at each other and burst into laughter.
As the laughter faded and neither of them moved, Bailey wanted to ask what the truth really was. Instead she stepped inside the doorway.
"I appreciate your cooperation tonight," she said, and hoped he'd deny that was the truth of which he'd spoken, that cooperation wasn't the only thing that had happened that evening.
He did. Following her inside, he closed the door behind them, took Samantha from her, and set the little dog on the floor. Wrapping his arms around her, he gently drew her to him, and somehow her own arms naturally made their way about his neck.
He smiled and shook his head in amazement. She understood. That was the way she felt.
His lips as they touched hers were familiar and strange. They'd kissed before, but never so easily, never deliberately. The burst of flame she always felt when Austin touched her was still there, but a warm intimacy now surrounded it.
He moved back from her a few inches and gazed at her through slitted, smoky eyes. A slow smile curved his lips.
"You're so—" he began, then the smile widened, and he traced one finger down her cheek. "You're so—Bailey." Bending toward her, he claimed her lips again, moving, caressing, then sliding away, trailing down her throat. With a soft groan, he pressed her to him tightly.
The flames already igniting every inch of her body, especially those inches Austin was touching, blazed higher. She sighed, reveling in the exquisite feelings. Maybe they could stay like this forever. At least until the morning when she'd have to feed Samantha.
But his warm mouth was moving onward, downward, eliciting new, wonderful sensations, igniting fires that demanded ever more fuel. He slipped the top button of her blouse and pushed aside the fabric, and she wasn't sure if the heat arose from his kisses or directly from her breast. Boldly, brazenly, she tangled her fingers in his thick hair, urged him on, though he didn't seem to need any urging.
As he fumbled with the other buttons of her blouse, his gaze returned to hers. In his eyes she saw the same overpowering desire she'd seen the night on Gordon's lawn, but now there was something else. Amid the leaping blue flames a softness smoldered, demanding and offering.
Then her blouse slid off her shoulders and he pressed her closer, his lips returning to hers with that same odd mixture of passion and tenderness. A moan started in her midsection and rose from her throat into his mouth as she opened to him, tasted wine and peppermint candy, felt his moist warmth, the smoothness of his mouth, and the roughness of his tongue.
Frantically she unbuttoned his shirt, pressed her bare breasts against the coarse hairs and hard muscles of his chest, and it was his turn to moan. His fingers trembled as he fumbled with the clasp of her jeans, and that trembling increased her passion, overwhelmed any inhibitions she might have had left. Their desires moved together as surely as their psyches had been together all evening.
His mouth again left hers, moved down to her breast, seeking and finding first one turgid peak, then the other. She leaned against the door for support, her legs and knees suddenly weak.
As if sharing the same mind, they sank to the floor together, and he slid her jeans down her hips, then tossed them aside with his own. For a moment she leaned away from him to look, to capture his naked body in her memory, to see and incorporate every muscle, every hair, every inch of him.
With one hand he traced a gentle line down her cheek and neck, over her breast and stomach, down the valley of her waist and over the curve of her hips. She looked at
him, and again it seemed her thoughts were joined with his. In his eyes she saw a reflection of the need she felt to enfold and encompass him.
Then his flesh was against hers, joining with her, and the need was met. They moved in perfect unison instinctively, and she was almost unable to endure the exquisite agony, wanting culmination but wanting it to continue forever, to be always united like this.
As their movements quickened and their passions surged to a peak, she sought his gaze, found him looking at her, and they spiraled together, bodies and souls merging in a crashing crescendo.
For a long time they remained motionless, silent, still joined. Bailey couldn't think of anything to say and felt no need to say anything. Their bodies had said it all. She was content to drift in the afterglow.
Abruptly a cold, wet nose on her cheek interrupted her mellow mood, and Bailey laughed.
Austin jerked upward, apparently as startled by her laughter as she had been by the little dog's intrusion.
"Samantha," he said when he saw the problem, "your timing is terrible."
"No," Bailey disagreed, "it could have been worse."
He grinned. "It could have been." He stood, pulling her with him and against him. "You know, she's a really short dog, much shorter than the average bed. Maybe if we found yours, we could hide up there."
His hands cupped her derriere, held her against him.
"We could try that," she murmured, and decided not to tell him Samantha regularly jumped onto her bed.
*~*~*
Bailey flipped the quarter for the twentieth time, recording the results on a yellow legal pad. Ten heads, ten tails. This method of eleventh-hour decision making about the merger wasn't working out any better than the more logical ones she'd tried.
The situation was bad enough of itself, but she was having a difficult time concentrating that morning. Austin hadn't left Sunday until shortly after noon. They'd made love most of the night, neither willing to admit to being tired, then gone out to brunch. As soon as she was alone, Bailey had fallen into an exhausted sleep, waking to the morning and the miserable merger decision.
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