A Bad Boy is Good to Find(36)

“What the hell’s going on in here?” Roger, the sound guy, a big redhead no older than Gia, came crashing into the room. Dino followed, camera on his shoulder.

“Bed fell down.” Con glanced down at the remains of the posts where they lay under brocade curtains crumpled into elegant whorls on the floor.

“Holy shit,” said Roger, with a grin. “Cool.”

“Get out of the shot, Rog,” murmured Dino.

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Roger pushed out of the room. “Just wanted to make sure everyone was okay.”

“We’re fine.” Con grabbed Lizzie around the waist. “It just collapsed. Must have termites or something.”

He could feel Lizzie trembling in her damp dress. Her chest heaved indelicately as she struggled to control her breathing. She held up the torn section of her dress with clenched fingers and teetered in her one shoe. It was pretty damn funny. He gave her a squeeze around the shoulders and a kiss on the cheek. “It’s alright, babe, no real damage done. Next time we have a lover’s tiff we’ll take it outside.”

Her mouth fell open.

He planted another kiss on her cheek, enjoying this far too much. She’d dragged him here to get revenge on him and try to hurt him, so he didn’t feel bad about having some fun at her expense.

“We did not break it,” she rasped.

“Um, yeah, right.” He winked at her. “Don’t want to get sued. Who owns this place anyway?”

Another face appeared in the doorway, one he hadn’t seen before. An icy looking blonde in a white suit.

Lizzie let out a tiny shriek.

“Darling, what happened?” The blonde pushed past Dino and into the room.

“Maisie.” Lizzie’s voice was barely a whisper.

One arm still around Lizzie, Con held out his hand. “Hi, Maisie, I’m Conroy. Glad to meet you.”

So this was her, huh? The family resemblance was nonexistent. Maisie was tall, pale and thin, with poker straight hair and piercing light blue eyes.

She took a bold stride into the room and gripped his hand with force. “Conroy, it’s a pleasure. I can’t believe Lizzie’s kept you under wraps for so long.” Her eyes grazed his bare chest for a fraction of a second, then locked back on his. “I just got in and heard this terrible commotion. Lizzie, darling, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” said Lizzie, hoisting her dress higher over her breast. “Except for my dress, which got torn when Conroy gallantly threw himself between me and the falling bedposts. Without him I don’t know what would have happened.”

Maisie glanced down at the bed. “We’re thoroughly insured, thank goodness. Dino, get some shots of the wreckage. Lizzie dear, is that a scratch on your cheek?” She reached out and Lizzie flinched.

Con felt a surge of protective instinct. “She’ll be okay. She just needs to catch her breath. Maybe we should all go outside and get something to eat. Just give us some privacy so Lizzie can change.”

“What a shame we didn’t capture the collapse on camera,” mused Maisie, a finger on her chin. “I’m here now so we’ll make sure we don’t miss any more key events, won’t we, Dino?”

Con did not miss Dino’s lowered brows. Gia had already scurried away. In fact, everyone had made themselves scarce since the appearance of the infamous Maisie.

Maisie touched his chest with a finger. Her nail scratched his skin, causing his right pec to flinch. What the hell was she up to?

“Dust. Powder post beetles, I expect. They can be such a scourge in an old place like this. We’ll get someone up to clean this mess up before bedtime.”

She leaned into Lizzie, who stiffened, and gave her a swift kiss on the cheek. “In with a bang! You’re full of surprises lately. I can’t wait to see what happens next.”

Then she turned and left the room, white pants swishing and heels clicking on the wood floor.

They were left alone with Dino, who shrugged. “Sorry, boss’s orders. Gotta shoot the mess, then I’ll get out of your way.”

Lizzie stepped back, pressing herself into the wall, and Con stood in front of her, shielding her from the camera. Now that Maisie was here, for some reason he didn’t want Lizzie on camera not looking her best. They waited until Dino left with a gruff nod, then Con closed the door.

“The next time we have a lover’s tiff we’ll take it outside?” Lizzie’s voice was shimmering steel.

“Hey, you were the one throwing shoes, not me.”

“I never threw a shoe in my life until I met you.”

“I can tell. You could use some practice.”

“I’m serious. You bring out the absolute worst in me. I was a perfectly respectable person until you came into my life and turned it upside down. I was polite, calm, dignified.” She put her hands on her hips, which caused her to drop the ripped neckline of her dress and reveal her lovely breast. “Now look at me!”

Con struggled to stop the grin sneaking across his face. “You look good to me.”

“Shut up before I hit you.”

“You already did, remember?”

“And you didn’t even flinch. I guess it happens a lot.”

He shrugged.

“Turn me back! Turn me back into that nice, normal person who didn’t go around yelling or throwing shoes at anyone!”

“I’m not a wizard. And if I was I wouldn’t want to change a thing. You’re a woman of fire and passion, an artist, so it’s no surprise if you need to throw a shoe from time to time.”

“I am not! And don’t you dare bring up my art again. Next thing you know they’ll have me painting a car for the cameras.”

“Hey, that’s not a bad idea. Maybe I could pick up a nice—”

“Don’t you even think about it!” Her eyes blazed. Any minute now her bra would burst too, he thought hopefully.

“You enjoyed painting that car.”

“I did not.” She lifted her chin.

Don’t push it, Con. “Alright, why don’t you get changed, then we can go down and get some dinner.”

She shot him a glare, and he tried to shrug it off. It honestly hurt that she didn’t respect him. That being smart and resourceful and well read didn’t mean anything. Without a pedigree he really was a nobody to her.

Yes, he’d been naïve.

He still missed their days of warm intimacy. An intimacy underpinned by his deception and destroyed by it.

So she’d brought him here to humiliate him. Sure, it hurt. He wasn’t easy to humiliate—been through far too much already—but hurt, that was another thing. And she didn’t have any idea of the world of pain she’d jacked open by bringing him back down here.

The prospect of visiting his childhood home made him want to run and hide. Not—as Lizzie thought—because it was pokey and run-down, which it no doubt would be, at least by her standards.

Terrible things had happened there.

Was his father still alive? His veins stung with sheer terror at the thought. Here he was, twenty-five years old and still scared to death of the man. How old would he be now? Less than fifty. Even with the drinking there was every likelihood he’d still be there, bloodshot eyes staring and mouth quick with a curse that cut to the bone.