A Bad Boy is Good to Find(35)

Several crew members had ventured tentatively onto the patio by the time he came back. Dino videotaped as they helped him stack the wood in a circle and lit it with matches. Dry Spanish moss crackled and spat as kindling.

“Where’s Lizzie?” he asked, as the fire started to take.

“I think she’s in the kitchen, talking to André,” said Gia. “He’s the chef.”

Con had a sudden nasty vision of Lizzie left unattended with all those bottles of wine. “I’ll go find her.”

“Sure.”

He noticed the camera’s mechanical gaze on him as he strode across the warm slate of the patio. He probably looked like some kind of backwoods bayou hick with no shoes or shirt and he felt a little clench of embarrassment.

Just what Lizzie wanted, no doubt, and he’d played right into her hands.

“Lizzie?” He pushed into the enormous kitchen, bright light making him blink.

The chef leaned against a vast table in the center, drinking red wine from a large tumbler. A stained apron covered his ample belly. A cigarette, burned nearly down to the filter, dangled from his lips.

“You seen Lizzie?”

“She was here a minute ago.” Hints of a local accent like his gave him a start. “Went upstairs, I think.” The chef lifted a black eyebrow. “Took a bottle of champagne from the fridge.”

Shit. Con pushed out into the dining room, picked his way past all the cables from the now-dormant spotlights and took the stairs two at a time. “Lizzie!”

No answer.

“Hey, Lizzie, where are you?” He strode down the dim hallway. Ancient light fixtures gave off thin yellow light. The door to their bedroom was closed.

He knocked once, then pushed it open.

Lizzie sat on the bed, eyes on him, hands wrapped around an open bottle of champagne. His chest tightened. In two strides he crossed the room and snatched it from her.

“I didn’t take a sip,” she protested.

“You were just thinking about it?” The chilled bottle sweated cool droplets into his palm.

“I was contemplating my options.” Her makeup had run in the heat, and he resisted the urge to neaten her smudged mascara with his thumb.

“Why? Everything’s going your way. You’ve tricked me into coming back here to the swamp I crawled out of, and it’s all being captured on camera. You should be ecstatic. What’s the problem?”

“Where is the camera?” She glanced nervously toward the door.

“I don’t know. I don’t really care, but I do want to know what’s making you want to drink again when I’m doing this all your way. For you.”

“I don’t know.” She lay back on the bed. Her dress was soaked through at the waist. “I didn’t know it would be so hot.”

“So it’s hot. Drink some water, take a bath. Big deal.” He put the champagne bottle down on a walnut sideboard, taking care to slip a magazine under it so it didn’t make a ring on the wood.

“And it just doesn’t feel…right.”

“What doesn’t feel right? It doesn’t feel right to tell people that beneath my expensive suit I’m just an uneducated mechanic? Why not? It’s the truth, isn’t it? And tomorrow you’ll get to see the sorry place I grew up in, which, believe me, will live up to your every expectation and then some. You’ve got me right where you want me, so what gives?”

She looked like she was about to cry. He snatched a tissue from a box on the sideboard and handed it to her. “Here.”

She blew her nose into the Kleenex. Tears shone in those big brown eyes. He had a sudden strong urge to put his arms around her, which he resisted. “It doesn’t feel right to make me undress in front of the camera to show you have power over me?”

She leaped off the bed and walked to the other side of the room, wet dress sticking to her skin.

She couldn’t look at him.

“Or it doesn’t feel right to do that stuff and then pretend like you’re all excited about marrying me? That’s it, isn’t it? It’s the embarrassment to yourself you hadn’t figured on. You were so hell-bent on showing me up as the loser you think I am that you didn’t realize it would make you look like a loser too.”

“I hate you!” She pulled off her shoe and threw it at him. It smacked loudly into a wooden bedpost.

“Yeah? So how come you can only sleep when you’re in my arms?”

“You’re nothing to me. You’re nobody!” Her eyes flashed. Sticky tendrils of wet hair curled up around her face.

“So you keep trying to prove, but apparently I’m not dropping dead because of it.” He shrugged. “I’m learning quite a bit about you, though.” He paused. “I’m the naïve one. Do you know I really thought you’d be okay with me once I told you the truth about me. I figured, hey, I make her happy, she loves me, it’ll all work out.”

“I didn’t love you!” she sobbed. She bent down to pull off her other shoe, but lost her balance and pitched forward, grabbing the bedpost to steady herself.

The bed creaked loudly and shifted. “Woah.” He grabbed a thick wood post and tried to hold it steady as it tugged against him, shifted, and came loose from the bed base. It weighed a ton and he couldn’t stop the motion. “Look out, it’s coming down!”

He dived toward her, knocking her out of the way with his body and slamming them both into the floor in the corner of the room.

In slow motion, with a cacophony of creaks and a cloud of malodorous dust, the entire four-poster structure above the bed twisted, listed, then collapsed and crashed to the wood floor with a thunderous series of bangs and crunches.

His body covered hers completely during the bed’s descent, so he was relieved when the noise stopped and he’d sustained no puncture wounds. “Must’ve been rotten.”

Hot, angry and struggling to escape, Lizzie’s lush body was having an unfortunate effect on him. He eased himself off with considerable regret.

She sat up, panting. “You practically killed me!”

“I didn’t want you to get hurt. You’re alright.”

“You tore my dress. Look!” He glanced down. Her plump breasts heaved against the blue fabric, one breaking free where a strap had snapped. Nice.

“Stop staring, you beast! Help me up.”

“Sure.” He couldn’t stop the grin ripping across his face. The sting of her hand on his cheek slowed its progress. Okay, so maybe he deserved whatever punishment she had in store for him. The delicious crush of her soft body under his had brought back way too many beautiful memories.

He offered her a hand, and she climbed heavily to her feet, one shoe still on.

“Let me help you with that.” He lifted the flap of blue fabric that had fallen, exposing a see-through strapless bra. His thumb brushed against her nipple, and a jolt of raw lust shot through him.

Yes, he was a beast.

“Get away from me!” she shrieked. Dust clung to her hair and skin. His too, no doubt.

Footsteps clattered in the hallway. “Someone’s coming.” He snatched a tissue from the box. “Let me fix you up.” She stood still while he dabbed at her smudged mascara and brushed dust out of her rapidly curling hair.