Lady Be Good (Wynette, Texas #2)(10)

One look at his appalled expression told her she’d made a terrible mistake. He’d been suffocatingly kind as he let her know that he wasn’t attracted to her in any way other than as a friend. “You’re so strong, Emma. Such a leader.”

She’d known it wasn’t a compliment, and a short time later, she’d been forced to smile through his wedding to a pretty, twenty-one year-old shop girl who didn’t know the Magna Carta from the Maginot Line.

Emma remembered Francesca’s sympathetic expression when she’d told her about Jeremy. “So, you’re still a virgin,” Francesca had said succinctly.

Emma had been embarrassed. “Well, I’ve dated certainly. And there were several times when I . . .” She gave it up. “Yes. Quite right. Embarrassing, isn’t it?”

“Not at all. You’re just discriminating.”

But despite Francesca’s kind words, Emma felt like a freak. Still, hiring a man for sex would never have occurred to her if it weren’t for Hugh Holroyd, Duke of Beddington. After weeks of agonizing over how to save her school, could the solution be so simple? And so difficult?

She needed to know more. “Your sexual services . . .” She cleared her throat. “What exactly do they involve?”

His beer bottle stalled halfway to his lips, and the smile that had been hanging there faded. He stared at her for a long moment, then opened his mouth to speak. Shut it. Opened it again. Took a swig of beer.

She watched the muscles in his throat work as he swallowed. He was obviously surprised, and she could almost read his thoughts. He’d believed she was too conservative to hire him for sex, and he regretted having reduced his price so quickly.

He set his beer on the deck. “Uh . . . anything the customer wants.”

Her mind whirled with possibilities, and she had to force her thoughts into line. She couldn’t consider this emotionally; she had to approach it logically, and there were practicalities to consider.

“What about diseases?” Making eye contact with him was impossible, so she pretended to study the bubbles.

For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer, but he did, although his voice sounded as if some beer might have gone down the wrong pipe. “I practice one hundred percent safe sex.”

“There’s no such thing.”

“Ninety-five percent. It’s like Torie always says: ‘To live is to risk.’ But I’m sure not carrying any fatal diseases, if that’s what you want to know. How about you?”

“Me?” She lifted her head. “No. Absolutely not.” Once again, she dropped her gaze. Through the bubbles, she glimpsed skin and wondered how much of her he could see. “This is purely commerce? Handled professionally?”

“I, uh, offer a money back guarantee.”

“And the—the customer would dictate how the . . . encounter would go?”

He seemed to be thinking that over. “The customer dictates the parameters. I dictate the particulars. For example, if the lady has any particular fetishes—”

“Oh, no. None.” Her only fetish was the desire to make love with a man who loved her, and that was something Kenny Traveler couldn’t provide. Just sex.

“—or if, for example, the customer said something like, ‘Kenny, honey, I want you to handcuff me—’ ”

Her head shot up.

“—then I’d go along with that because it’s a parameter, but the order of events after those handcuffs get snapped on is pretty much up to me.”

“I—I see.” She could feel bright red patches burning in her cheeks. Was she really considering doing this? Letting Kenny Traveler take her virginity would certainly be a lot more effective than getting a tattoo. He was the perfect man for the job—physically irresistible, but so foreign to her concept of a soul mate that she wouldn’t have to deal with any emotional scars afterward. She could get it over with and then forget it.

“I should tell you that I won’t wear female underwear or use a whip. The ladies do enjoy a little light bondage, of course, so there’s no problem with that. I mean, I’d be pretty much out of business without those handcuffs I was talking about, so I’m more than happy to oblige.”

“You handcuff women?” She was shocked. Not that it happened, but that the practice was so widespread. “Oh, no.”

“Now, don’t get too judgmental. I didn’t think I’d like it either until the first time I snapped those suckers around a pair of—Well, I’m not saying any more. If that’s not to your particular tastes, then we’ll just try something else.”

She drew a deep breath. She didn’t need a flashing neon arrow pointing the way to realize this could be the answer both to her own freedom and to saving St. Gert’s. So why did she feel like crying?

She mustered her courage. She’d known when she started this trip that her life would never be the same again. Without giving herself any more time to think about it, she nodded. “All right, then. Yes. That sounds satisfactory.”

He blinked. “It does?”

“Tonight would be fine.”

“Tonight?”

She finally managed to look at him. “Do you have another engagement?”

“Oh, no. Tonight’s just fine with me.”

She was relieved. If she had too long to dwell on what was going to happen, she’d go mad. She forced herself to focus on the practical. “Do you take traveler’s checks?”