At that moment, Emma spotted the man in the floral shirt who’d followed them into the bar and realized he was watching her quite closely from across the room. A rush of excitement went through her. He really was Beddington’s watchdog!
She knew she had to make the most of the moment, but all she could think to do was grab her gin and tonic and take a healthy slug. As a scandalous act, it was fairly pathetic, but she couldn’t think of anything else. And then another idea occurred to her, although she didn’t want to do it. Still, she wanted to be married to Hugh even less.
Steeling herself, she rose out of her chair, looped her arm around Kenny’s neck, and planted herself in his lap.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Have I missed something?”
She curled her mouth into what she hoped was a seductive smile and tried to speak without moving her lips. “Kiss me at once.”
“No,” he said indignantly.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t like your attitude.”
She had been a bit bossy, but that was only because she was nervous. “I apologize.”
His eyes settled on her mouth. “Okay, I’ll kiss you.”
The burly man turned away, and she immediately ejected from Kenny’s lap.
He frowned at her as she grabbed for her gin and tonic. “Are you drunk again?”
“Certainly not.”
“Good. Because Wynette doesn’t have even a halfway decent tattoo parlor.”
The burly man had moved over near the jukebox, but he was still watching her. He was balding, with straw-colored hair and prominent jowls. Thinking hard, she looked over at Ted. “Would you mind very much dancing with me?” Beddington definitely wouldn’t like her dancing with anyone, let alone an obviously younger man.
“I wouldn’t mind at all,” Ted replied.
“He’s a terrible dancer,” Torie said. “You want somebody good, you get out on the floor with Kenny.”
Ted looked injured. “She asked me to dance, not John Travolta here.”
Torie shrugged. “It’s your feet, Lady Emma.”
Although Emma didn’t look at Kenny, she sensed his eyes on her as she got up from the table. Ted took her hand and led her toward the floor, where a ballad was playing. As they began to dance, she experienced the unusual sensation of being led around a dance floor by a sexy young man. Very young, she reminded herself.
And very sexy.
He smiled down at her and asked how she liked Texas.
She smiled back and said she loved it. He wanted to know if she’d enjoyed the ride in from Dallas and what she thought of the United States. They chatted easily.
The song ended, and a fast tune began to play. The crowd reshuffled and started performing a line dance. “Maybe I’d better sit this one out.”
“I’ll show you the steps,” Ted said. “Torie’s right. I’m not much of a dancer, but this one’s pretty easy.” He led her to the side, and she caught on quickly as he demonstrated.
As soon as they were back on the dance floor, she spotted Kenny and Torie dancing together. With their gleaming dark hair and easy grace, they moved like mirror images of each other. Kenny laughed at something one of the women passing by said to him. Torie flirted with an older man wearing a cowboy hat. They looked beautiful, rich, and a little jaded. Emma thought of Gatsby and Daisy Buchanan transplanted to a Texas honky-tonk.
The music slowed. Emma turned to go back to the table only to have Ted tug on her hand. “One more, Lady Emma. I like dancing with you. I always appreciate it when the lady leads.”
She laughed and slid back into his arms. It was nice being with someone who enjoyed her company. But they’d barely begun to dance before Kenny tapped Ted on the shoulder. “I’m taking over, little boy, so you go on back to the table and let Torie fight with you.”
“I don’t want to fight with Torie,” Ted said mildly. “I’m enjoying myself with Lady Emma.”
“And I’m real sure she’s enjoying herself with you, but right now, I’m suggesting you move aside.”
Emma felt a prickle of alarm as Ted gave Kenny a long hard assessment that suddenly made him look much older than his twenty-two years. “You and I are overdue for a reckoning.”
“Just name the time.”
“Seven o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“You’re on.”
Emma held up her hands. “Stop this at once!”
Kenny frowned. “Stop what?”
“Threatening each other! You’re acting like children.”
“We’re not threatening. We’re playing golf.”
“I’ll be playing golf,” Ted said. “It remains to be seen what John Travolta here’ll be doing.” He gave Emma a slow smile and walked away.
As Emma watched him disappear, she actually felt weak-kneed for a moment. If Ted was this bone-melting at twenty-two, what would he be like in another ten years?
Kenny took her in his arms, and she got weak-kneed all over again. Her instinctive attraction to him irritated her.
“You just put your eyeballs right back in your head, Lady Emma.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t play dumb. I know exactly what you’re doing. You’re mentally screening candidates to put an end to your you-know-what. Your virginity,” he added, in case she’d missed the point. “And my little pal there just moved to the top of your list.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. He’s much too young.” She couldn’t resist adding, “But very sexy.”
“Yeah, well, take if from me . . . your friend Francesca won’t like it too much if you try to seduce her baby boy.”
She stumbled. “Her baby boy?”
He led her back into the dance steps. “Not to mention what the Antichrist might have to say about it. He has a lot of pride in that son of his.”
“He’s their son?” She blinked her eyes. “Oh, my . . . she always refers to him as Teddy. I never thought . . .”
“Theodore Day Beaudine. The only child of Francesca and you-know-who.”
“I got the impression that her son was much younger, still a child. I never thought . . .”
“Well, start thinking now, Mrs. Robinson, because he’s definitely not a child, and he’s off-limits to you.”
“I wasn’t really planning to seduce him. He’s young enough to have been one of my students. How could you think such an awful thing?”
“Do I have to remind you of a certain unfortunate incident two nights ago?”
“That was different. I intended to pay you.”
He chuckled, then moved his hand on her back. She felt his finger slide along the small band of skin between her top and the waistband of her jeans. She couldn’t tell if it was accidental or not, and she gave an involuntary shiver.
His voice deepened a notch. “Until this minute, it never occurred to me that you might be so desperate for sex you’d actually prey on one of our town’s innocent children.”
“He’s hardly—”
“I may have to abandon my principles and go to bed with you after all.”
She stumbled again, and he lifted one dark eyebrow. “Although, to be honest about it, I don’t know if I’m up to all the work involved in having sex with a you-know-what. Still, I guess there comes a time in every man’s life when he has to sacrifice himself for the greater good of the community.”
She deliberately stepped on his foot. “Sorry.”
“You did that on purpose!”
“I most certainly did not.”
For a moment he said nothing, then he gave a long, put-upon sigh. At the same time, he slipped his thumb beneath the hem of her top. “All right, you win. I’ll let you mess around with me.”
Even though she knew he was teasing, she felt this funny quiver in her middle. Then she thought about picking up a beer pitcher from one of the tables and pouring it over his head. How had so much arrogance gotten packaged in one man? “Thanks, but I couldn’t put you to the trouble.”
He drew her closer so
her breasts snuggled against his chest. “Not much trouble. I’ll just lie there and let you do all the work. You’d probably like that best anyway.”
Before she could come up with a response, he stopped dancing. “Uh-oh. Just when you think it’s safe to go back in the water . . .”
Emma looked up and spotted a rather disheveled man in his early thirties wearing chinos, a rumpled blue oxford cloth shirt, and wire-rimmed glasses approach the table where Torie sat with Ted. Ted immediately rose and held out his hand, obviously pleased.
Torie, however, wasn’t. Her spine straightened, and she shot him a look of pure venom.
“That’s Dexter O’Conner,” Kenny said. “The heir to Com National, Torie’s intended, and the biggest nerd in Wynette, Texas. Most of the time Ted’s the only person in the entire county who has any idea what he’s talking about.”
Dexter O’Conner reminded her of Jeremy Fox. They both had that same pleasantly untidy look, although this man was taller and thinner. His bony scholar’s face was a bit long, but still attractive. He had a wide, intelligent brow, well-spaced eyes, and shaggy brown hair. It didn’t take Emma more than a few seconds to realize that Dexter O’Conner was exactly the kind of man who had always appealed to her.
Kenny let her go. “We’d better get over there before Torie takes too big a bite out of him and lets the poor sonovabitch bleed to death.” He approached the table like the masked avenger. “What the hell are you doing here, O’Conner?”
“Dex came here to meet me,” Ted said. “You and Torie are the damned interlopers, so go away. Lady Emma, you can stay.”
She smiled at him. “Thank you.”
Ted introduced her, and Dexter O’Conner acknowledged her presence with a brief, level-eyed survey, then a courteous nod. There was something about his manner that made her warm to him. He pulled off his wire-rims, revealing a very nice pair of gray eyes, and extracted a handkerchief from his pocket to polish them.
“As a matter of fact, I’d like Victoria and Kenny to stay, too. As long as we’re all here, I think it would behoove us to reach some sort of understanding.”
“You hear that, Kenny? Behoove. He talks like he’s inhaled a damned dictionary. And, I swear to God, Dexter, the next time you call me Victoria, I’m going to body slam you.”
“I doubt that would be possible.” He slipped his glasses back on. “I’m quite a bit bigger.”
Torie slumped forward and caught her forehead in her hands. “Jesus . . . you are such a dork.”
“He’s a smart dork,” Ted pointed out. “And unlike you, Dex has actually earned his share of the family money.”
“Shut up, you little putz.” Torie reached for her cigarettes only to have Dex take them from her hands.
“I really don’t like seeing you smoking, Victoria.”
“That does it!” With a growl, she sprang to her feet and lunged for his throat.
Kenny caught her around the waist just before she struck. “Settle down, now. You know how you hate it when you get blood on your clothes.” He shot Dexter a warning glare as Torie struggled in his arms. “You’d better get out of here, Dex. I don’t know how much longer I can hold her.”
“I see no reason to leave,” Dex said. “I have something to discuss with her. You’re welcome to listen.”
As Torie’s growls of outrage grew louder, Ted rose. “You’re right, Kenny. Somebody needs to swat her. I’ll take her away till she cools down.” He sighed. “Even though I don’t want to.” He grabbed Torie by the waist, just under Kenny’s arm, and yanked. “Let’s go play Foosball. And this time, let me win!”
Torie shot Dexter a venomous look as Ted dragged her away.
Emma observed Dexter with interest. She’d known Texas would be fascinating, but she hadn’t expected to find herself thrown into the middle of such an absorbing drama. This was like a rerun of Dallas, except with much nicer people. Well, nicer except for Kenny Traveler.
Just then, she spotted the burly man watching them and felt a thrill of anticipation. Beddington would hate having her involved in this kind of public scene.
Kenny took a seat. “I’d advise you not to hang out in any dark alleys, Dex. She doesn’t fight like a girl.”
“As I’m sure both of her ex-husbands discovered.” Dexter settled in the chair Torie had abandoned. “I’m not afraid of your sister, Kenny. I thought you’d realize that. She, of course, is terrified of me.”
Kenny grinned and shook his head. “Whatever you want to believe.”
Dex looked resigned. “I should have expected this.” He turned to Emma. “How long have you known Victoria, Lady Emma?”
“Just Emma. I only met her this morning.”
“I suppose that’s too little time for you to have any influence with her. It’s unfortunate. You seem quite level-headed.”
Kenny shot out his hand. “Now, Lady Emma, level-headed isn’t the same as being conservative, so keep your clothes on.”
“I had no intention of taking them off.”
Dex studied her more closely.
“Why don’t you just leave Torie alone?” Kenny said.
“It’s not that simple. Remember that our fathers are involved.”
“If you had any balls, Dex, you’d tell both of them to go to hell instead of letting them torture Torie like this.”
He gave Kenny a long, inscrutable look. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at your reaction.” With a shrug, he rose. “I’ll talk with Ted later. It’s been very nice meeting you, Emma. I look forward to seeing you again soon.” He nodded at Kenny and, without so much as a glance toward the Foosball game, headed for the door of the Roustabout.
“Coldhearted sonovabitch.”
“I found him very pleasant,” Emma said.
“It figures you’d like him. He’s just your type.”
“Quite.”
“Is that a gleam of speculation I see in your eye?”
When she didn’t reply, he frowned. “First you’re after a little boy. Now you’ve got Dex sighted through the crosshairs. Nobody could ever say you’re particular.”
She wasn’t going to let him bait her. “Desperate women can’t be particular.”
“I guess I’d better dance with you, then.” He spoke just begrudgingly enough to let her know he was doing her a favor.
“Oh, no.” She gave him a pleasant smile. “It would require far too much effort on your part.”
That made him so mad his teeth started to itch. Damn, but there was something about this woman that rubbed him wrong. He’d wanted to get away from her tonight, but then she’d shown up here. The worst thing was that part of him had been glad to see her, which was why he hadn’t behaved too well, because he didn’t want to be glad to see the virgin head mistress.
She made no secret of the fact that she disapproved of him, and he didn’t like the notion that he was nothing more than a sexual convenience, even though he felt the same way about her. Or at least he thought he did.
He wasn’t used to being confused about a woman, and his thoughts returned to the person who’d put him in this position in the first place. If it weren’t for Francesca, he might be able to talk Emma into a discreet fling. The two of them could use each other, then forget about it. But Dallie’s wife had more ways of finding out other people’s private business than anybody he knew, and she’d never forgive him if she thought he’d taken advantage of her friend. It also wouldn’t be the slightest use telling her that Lady Emma had started the whole thing when she’d tried to buy his body.
He felt claustrophobic, as if he were being forced into a small, windowless room with no exit. Lady Emma was too bossy, too difficult, one of those women who could run right over the top of a man, beating on him with her demands until he’d been flattened like a cartoon coyote. Frustrated, he pulled her to her feet and led her, none too gently, back to the dance floor, where it didn’t take more than a few seconds for his temper to bubble up again.
“Stop trying to lead!”<
br />
“Then move faster.”
“It’s a ballad.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to fall asleep.”
“I’m not falling asleep! I swear . . .” But whatever he’d been about to swear slipped from his mind as her hair brushed the bottom of his chin.
For a moment he could have sworn he smelled violets, which was very peculiar, since he had no idea what violets smelled like, except somehow he knew they smelled just like Lady Emma.
Chapter 9
Even though she knew she should put her time to better use working on her research paper, Emma luxuriated in her leisure the next morning. She visited Kenny’s horses, took another long walk along the river, then changed into her bathing suit, fetched her straw hat, and accompanied Patrick to the pool. They sat beneath a French market umbrella at one of the rectangular tables around the water and shared a glass of peach-flavored iced tea along with still-warm slices of a dark, spicy sweet bread drizzled with icing. As they ate, Patrick filled her in on some of the local lore and told her a little about his book of photographs before he excused himself to develop film in the basement darkroom.
Emma moved to one of the chaises that sat in the shade and opened up her notes from Lady Sarah’s journal. The day was warm, and she wanted to discard her cover-up, but she was afraid Patrick would come back, and she didn’t like the idea of him seeing her tattoo. It was one thing to show it off when she thought she was being watched, but quite another to expose people to it privately. She was thankful for her caution when she looked up to see an attractive blonde coming toward the pool with a baby in her arms.
The woman was a few years younger than Emma and a bit plump, but not unpleasantly so. Everything about her reeked of money, from the diamond tennis bracelet that glimmered on one tan wrist to her linen tunic and shorts. She had sleek, jaw-length blond hair and flawless skin enhanced with little more than some tawny lip gloss.
The woman beamed at her. “Lady Emma, it’s such an honor to have you in Wynette. I’m Shelby, of course.” Mystified, Emma set aside her notes and rose from the chaise. As she shook the woman’s outstretched hand, the baby squealed and reached for his mother’s hair. “This is Peter.” Her smile faded and her words developed a bite. “The forgotten child.”
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