Lady Be Good (Wynette, Texas #2)(56)

He lifted his hand and stared down at it. “It’s the most incredible thing—my palm is actually itching. I never imagined I would have the urge to spank a woman.”

Again, that little thrill of excitement. Maybe Dex wasn’t quite as boring as she’d thought. “Yeah, well, it’d take you and the entire Dallas Cowboys’ defensive line to pull it off.”

“I’m stronger than I look, Victoria.”

“Will you stop calling me that!”

“Will you stop smoking cigarettes?”

“No!”

“Very well . . . Victoria.”

Something inside her snapped, and she lunged for him. She couldn’t help it. He was so smug, so superior and condescending that she wanted to bash his face in, but she’d settle for hurling him into the stucco wall.

Unfortunately, as the heels of her hands slammed against his chest and he didn’t move, she realized it wasn’t going to be that easy. He caught her wrists. She gazed up into gray eyes flecked with green and experienced the uneasy sensation that he was peering through all her carefully erected defenses. The idea paralyzed her.

She recovered only as she realized he was going to kiss her. Lots of men had wanted to do exactly that, so she wasn’t surprised. What surprised her was how much she wanted him to go through with it.

Her eyelids drifted shut. Their bodies fit together. She felt his lean, hard chest pressing against her breasts. His lips brushed her cheek. She tilted her mouth toward his.

“I can’t wait to kiss you,” he whispered. “But I want it to be perfect. We’ll finish this as soon as you don’t taste like cigarettes.”

Her eyes shot open.

He kissed the end of her nose, then set her aside as if she were a dear, but annoying, child. “I’ve given you my opinion of how we should go about this. Now it’s up to you.”

After one last glance at the night sky, he left her alone.





Chapter 12

Emma was fuming by the time she’d finished breakfast. Once again, Kenny had left to practice before they’d made plans for the day. Her research schedule was falling sadly behind. He kept forgetting that he was supposed to be working for her.

The phone rang twice, and a moment later Patrick called down from the second floor, “It’s for you, and I think I’m going to faint. The man says he’s a duke!”

Finally! Beddington had heard about last night, and he was calling to break off the engagement! She flew across the kitchen, took a deep breath, and picked up the wall phone that hung near the counter. “Good morning, Your Grace.”

“Emma, my dear, I’ve heard some distressing news.”

Her muscles tensed with anticipation. This was it, then. Within minutes, she’d be free of him, and, if luck was with her, St. Gert’s would still be safe.

“Word has reached me that you were seen purchasing a tabloid newspaper. A small point, I admit, but still troubling. I had no idea you read garbage like that.”

She frowned. Buying a tabloid had been her least scandalous activity. What about the rest?

She waited for him to mention the other purchases she’d made or comment on the fact that she’d misbehaved at the Roustabout. What about the fact that she’d kissed Kenny in front of the drugstore?

“If you must read those awful rags, would you at least get someone else to buy them for you?”

She held her breath and waited for him to comment on the pregnancy kit, the condoms, the lice shampoo!

“I nearly forgot. My sister asked me to tell you that she’s found a gown for you to wear to the engagement party. She’ll have it waiting when you get back.”

She sank down on one of the chintz-covered barstools at the counter, trying to think what to say. “Are—are you having me followed?”

“Followed? Of course not. I simply have my sources.”

“And that’s all your sources told you? That I bought a tabloid newspaper?”

“I can’t think why you’d be interested in such drivel. Still, if that’s your worst sin, I’m sure I can live with it. Anne, my second wife, was fond of the tabloids.” There was a pause as he turned away from the receiver to speak with one of his aides. “I have to go, Emma; I have another call waiting. And from now on, please try to remember that whatever you do reflects on me.”

He broke the connection before she could reply.

The blueberry muffin she’d enjoyed for breakfast clotted in her stomach as she sat on the stool, receiver in her hand, telephone cord twisted around her fingers. How could he know about the tabloid, but not the rest of it? She tried to sort out her thoughts, but nothing made sense.

Patrick came into the kitchen, eager to hear the details of Emma’s connection with a duke. She gave him a highly abridged version, and he was just beginning to press for more information when Torie entered from the front hallway. “Hey, Lady Emma. Let’s get hoppin’.”

She wore white jeans along with a light blue T-shirt, and her fashionably untidy hair tumbled from a bright yellow banana clip at the crown of her head. She was also working away at a piece of gum.

“Where are we going?”

“Driving lesson.” Torie spit her gum into the trash and immediately pulled another stick out of her pocket.

“I don’t have any desire to learn how to drive.”