In a Fix
Page 29
now?” he said softly.
“Huh? Wha—who?”
A smile broke slowly from one corner of his mouth to the other. A happy smile, not a gotcha smile, but I blushed anyway.
“Yeah, okay. I get your point,” I said, then raised a brow significantly. Judging from where I was sitting, I hadn’t been the only
one strongly affected by the kiss. “What about you?”
“No, I wasn’t thinking about him at al, actualy,” he said disingenuously.
“That is not what I meant,” I said, and then wiggled my hips the tiniest bit. “That is what I meant.”
He groaned. “Not that I don’t appreciate your consideration, but—” He shifted beneath me, finding himself a more comfortable
position. “No time. We’re almost at the hotel, and we have to change back. Unless you don’t mind the driver, not to mention the
other hotel patrons, speculating about our activities when we don’t emerge from the vehicle in a timely fashion, of course.”
At the moment I wished, fiercely, I could say, Screw it—let ’em speculate. But I did have an obligation to maintain Mina’s
dignity while presenting myself as her. I pushed as far away from Bily as I could (doing my best not to press unduly against his lap
while I did so—I’m not that cruel) and straightened my dress, trying to regain my composure.
“Bily?” I said, doubts seeping back with the distance.
“Yeah?”
“Aren’t you worried this wil ruin our relationship? I mean, you’re my best friend, and I think I’m yours. What if we spoil it?”
He cracked up. “Spoil it? Ciel, the last time we were together you peed al over me and pelted me with cow shit. From my
standpoint our relationship can only improve.”
I narrowed my eyes at the reminder. “Yeah, wel, I also stole your car and scratched the hel out of its precious paint.” Ha. Bet
that would help put a damper on his ardor. Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.
He only grinned. “I know. But it was brave of you to confess.”
“How’d you find out?” I was surprised, because I’d paid a good chunk of Mina’s fee to have the Chevy restored and returned
to the garage before Bily could find out it was ever gone.
“I got a text message from a certain wel-tipped attendant, teling me not to worry, he couldn’t even tel I’d ever driven into the
gate. Only you and Mark knew I was out of the country. I extrapolated from there.”
“Aren’t you mad?”
“Nope. It’s fixed.”
“But I…” I swalowed hard, reconsidering this whole confession. Perhaps I’d been hasty. Too late now. He had to know, so I
might as wel just say it. “… borrowed your aura. Without asking.”
“Yes, you did. That was bad,” he said, stern-faced. Then he was me in a flash, looking ridiculous in his tux. “There. Now we’re
even.” Himself again in a matter of seconds, he continued, “Though if it would ease your conscience to atone in some way, I could
always give you a spanking.” His eyes teased, but I wasn’t entirely sure he didn’t mean it.
“Don’t even think about it, buster,” I said, attempting severity, but failing utterly when I was ambushed by a giggle.
He closed the space between us and draped an arm over my shoulder. “God, I love that sound. You have the best laugh of any
woman I know.”
I pushed away, but not far this time. He smeled too good. “That’s another thing—you know too many women. And I do mean
in the biblical sense. You’re a man-slut. I’m not sure I should get involved with a man-slut.”
“Pish. My reputation has been exaggerated. Besides, I’m seriously reconsidering the benefits of monogamy.”
Ack. “Uh, I realy wouldn’t feel right asking you to do that.”
He looked at me for good half-minute, eyes ful of speculation. “Tel you what,” he said at last. “If you’re stil crushing on the
spook after I have my wicked way with you—and I’m talking a whole night in my bed, not messing around in the backseat of a
car—I’l bow out gracefuly.” And then he winked.
Cocky bastard. “Who says I’l let you have your wicked way with me?”
“I can only live in hope,” he said, and kissed me again. It was shorter this time, but what it lacked in duration, it made up for in
Zing! Maybe not quite the same kind of Zing! as the first kiss, but as close as you could get without lingering fingers.
“Okay,” I admitted afterward. “I like kissing you. I’l probably let you do it again. But honestly? I’m not sure about the
monogamy thing.”
It wasn’t just letting go of the idea of Mark either—that fantasy was already loosening its grip on me. But getting involved with
Bily would be risky enough without setting myself up for the kind of hurt that could come from expecting something he might not
be capable of delivering.
“That’s okay. I’l have fun convincing you.” He gave my hair another tug, and we changed back into the bride and groom.
It was starting to rain as we got out of the limo; a storm was brewing. Bily carried me al the way to our room and over the
threshold, so I wouldn’t ruin Mina’s stockings. No way was I ever putting those shoes on again.
He changed in record time, ridding himself of Trey’s aura and tux with a casual disregard for my presence. I busied myself
removing my headpiece and veil, al the while sneaking peeks at his side of the room.
Other than turning his back briefly as he dropped Trey’s trousers and boxers (he would have to have an ass like a Greek
statue, I thought with an inward groan) he didn’t seem overly concerned with modesty. Which was a good thing, because the
stylishly ripped T-shirt and low-rise jeans he puled on after donning the oh-so-sexy black boxer briefs didn’t do a lot to cover his
abs. If I wasn’t careful, I’d be drooling al over Mina’s gown.
I coughed lightly, caling attention to myself, once again overwhelmed by the Mina-size dress. “Do you think you could give me
a hand getting out of this monster before you leave? I know you’re in a rush, and I wouldn’t ask, only I can’t reach far enough
behind me, and it might look strange to cal the concierge for assistance.”
Bily’s Adam’s apple bobbed twice before he spoke. “Sure. Not a problem.”
He stepped behind me, crushing my skirts between us in an effort to get close enough to deal with the tiny satin-covered
buttons. There were dozens, and it took a considerable amount of time to get through them, with his fingers brushing against my
back and his breath tickling my neck the whole time. When he made it almost as far as my hips I said, “I think I can manage from
here.”
“Only a few more,” he said softly, and continued. When he paused I thought he must be finished, and tried to turn around to
say good-bye. He stopped me, slipping warm hands past my waist, up to my breasts, bare now because the bra had been built
into the bodice.
I inhaled sharply, but was otherwise motionless as I felt his lips on the side of my jaw. When his fingers began teasing, I
lowered my arms and let the dress fal as far as it would.
“Just a taste,” he whispered, turning me and lowering his head. The shock of his mouth, hot on my nipple, jolted me back to
reality, and I pushed his head away.
“I thought you had to go now,” I said.
His eyes twinkled. “More like an hour ago.”
“Then why are you—”
“Because,” he said, pausing to kiss each pink tip before continuing, “they are right there in front of me.”
I laughed at the blunt honesty of his reply. “Maybe you could st
ay just a little longer,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“You’re already late anyway.”
Regret filed his eyes, but when he spoke his voice was resolute. “No. I don’t want you to remember the first time we make
love as some sort of work-related quickie.”
“You’re right,” I agreed, if reluctantly, and licked my lips. Slowly. (What? They were dry.)
Staring at my mouth with hot eyes, he said, suddenly, “Come with me.” Not the words I expected to hear.
“I can’t,” I said with a tiny shrug, my dress slipping down more with the motion. Oops. “I’m in the middle of a job.” I blinked
innocently.
He took a deep breath and tugged the bodice back up to cover my chest. “Suit yourself. Either Mark or I wil be back in a few
days so you and Trey can make a show of leaving the hotel together.”
I was surprised to feel a stab of disappointment that he might actualy let Mark come back in his place, but didn’t let myself
comment on it. He slung a smal pack over his shoulder and gave me a last kiss, a real toe-curler, half-lifting me with one arm.
Wait just a darn minute … Was he trying to out-tempt me? He was.
Wel, we’d just see about that. After he abandoned my lips I licked them again, because I liked what it did to his eyes the last
time, and also, I admit, because I might be a teensy bit competitive.
“You’re realy sure you have to leave?” I said, extra-breathlessly.
He saw through it, and grinned down at me. “Convinced already? Gee, you’re easy.”
Argh. Points for Bily. I pushed him away, making sure I held the bodice up. “I am not! Go. Leave already. See if I care.”
He laughed as he headed for the door.
“What am I supposed to do by myself until you get back?”
“Think about me,” he tossed over his shoulder, and was gone.
“I might just think about Mark instead!” I holered after him, a sorry attempt at a Hail Mary pass.
Silence.
Damn it. I wasn’t about to sit around thinking of either one of them. I kicked my way out of the dress, threw on my stand-by
“me” clothes and shoes, and quickly dialed the front desk. Told the clerk to hold al cals for the next few days, said the fruit
basket and champagne in the suite would suffice, so room service wouldn’t be necessary. Grabbed my overnight bag, left a Do
Not Disturb sign on the door and ran down the stairs, not trusting the elevator to be fast enough.
I found Bily on the first level of the parking garage, leaning against his Chevy, casualy drumming his fingers against the fender, a
gleeful sparkle in his eyes.
I puled up short, stopping a few feet away, breathing hard. “You ass,” I wheezed. “You’re waiting for me.”
He shrugged. “Hoped you might change your mind.”
I eyed him suspiciously and gave myself a minute to think. “Okay,” I said finaly, after I’d recovered enough breath to speak
evenly. “Say I do come with you—we have to get some things straight.”
“I’m al ears.”
“If I’m in, I’m in. No shoving me off the field if things get dangerous.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He said it so earnestly I knew better than to trust him.
I raised a brow.
A smile visited his lips briefly. “Realy. I’m past that. I’ve evolved. Mark’s the one you have to worry about.”
“He’l be pissed you brought me,” I pointed out.
“Yeah. You care?”
I cocked my head and gave it some thought. “Nah. He’l get over it. Oh, and one other thing—give me the keys. I’m driving.”
“You must be kidding,” he said, his voice appaled. Everyone has his limit.
“If I wreck it, you can spank me,” I lied. I mean, what were limits for if not to be pushed?
His eyes darkened and he tossed me the keys without a second’s hesitation, swalowing hard. I settled myself into the driver’s
seat, mentaly spiking the bal. Hee. Touchdown.
As we exited the garage, a huge KABOOM! rocked us, accompanied by a blinding flash. We both jumped as far as our seat
belts would alow, and looked around for flying debris. But it wasn’t a bomb this time—lightning had struck the tree across the
street, and it was coming down fast.
I stomped on the gas, puling out of the way just as the towering oak crashed behind us. Yikes! Had the Big Referee in the Sky
caled a flag on my play? A girl could get paranoid if this kept up.
Fortunately, Bily started laughing as soon as he realized the tree hadn’t smashed his baby, distracting me from impending
remorse. After a second I joined in, savoring the adrenaline rush along with him.
Ha! Missed me again! popped into my head as we sped away. But I squelched it before it could take root. Pushing the limits
was one thing, but tempting fate was just plain stupid.
Acknowledgments
First of al, it’s not my fault! Not entirely, anyway. I may have written In a Fix, but loads of people share the blame for its final
incarnation. Just so we’re clear on that.
Here are a few of them:
My mother, Ely Clayworth, who might be embarrassed to let her friends read certain parts of the book, but who wil act proud
anyway. Thanks for providing me with the phrase “God punishes right away.” You’re right, Mom. (There. Now you have it in
print.)
My husband, Bob, who always treated my writing as if it were a serious pursuit, worthy of respect, even when I was just
playing.
My children, Annalisa and Sean, and my son-in-law, Mike. If any of them were ever appaled by the “research” questions I
brought up at the dinner table, they at least had the good grace not to show it. Much.
My fantastic beta readers and critique partners: Eagle-Eyes Susan Adrian, Elise Skidmore, Kris Reekie, Beth Shope, Pamela
Patchet, Julie Kentner, Tiffany Schmidt, Emily Hainsworth, and my Agency Sistah, Tawna Fenske. Seriously, folks. Anything you
didn’t like, I’m blaming them.
Vicki Pettersson and Joanna Bourne, who blazed trails I was too frightened to set foot on before I saw it could be done.
The CompuServe Books and Writers Community, where I became convinced I might actualy be able to make a go of this
author thing. Thanks to everyone I met there who encouraged my writing addiction, especialy Diana Gabaldon, whose grace and
patience with newbie writers is an astounding thing to behold.
And, of course, eternal gratitude to my amazing agent, Michele Wolfson, who never once gave up on me, and my supremely
talented editor, Melissa Frain. The good parts were probably suggested by her.
Finaly, my apologies to anyone I’ve inadvertently left out. Look on the bright side. If the book bombs, you’l be glad your
name isn’t associated with it.
About the Author
Linda Grimes grew up in Texas, where she rode horses, embarrassed herself onstage a lot, and taught teenagers that they’d have
to learn the rules of English before they could get away with breaking them for creativity’s sake. She currently resides in Virginia
with her theater-god husband, whom she snagged after he saw her in a musical number at the now-defunct Melodrama Theater in
San Antonio. There’s nothing like a rousing chorus of “If You Wanna Catch a Fish You Gotta Wiggle Your Bait” to hook a man
for a lifetime.
Like her globe-trotting main character, Linda has spent her fair share of time overseas, though fortunately under less stressful
circumstances. Kidnapping and daring rescues are al wel and good in fiction, but she prefers sanity in her real life.
This is a work of fiction. All o
f the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously.
IN A FIX
Copyright © 2012 by Linda Grimes
All rights reserved.
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
www.tor-forge.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Grimes, Linda.
In a fix / Linda Grimes.—1st ed.
p. cm.
“A Tom Doherty Associates book.”
ISBN 978-0-7653-3180-9 (trade paperback)
ISBN 978-1-42994753-4 (e-book)
1. Businesswomen—Fiction. 2. Impersonation—Fiction. 3. Man-woman relationships—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3607.R5568I53 2012
813’.6—dc23
2012019453
e-ISBN 9781429947534
First Edition: September 2012
Table of Contents
Chapter 30
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28