“Really.” Dwight helped himself to some coleslaw.
“I would have spent more time with you last night, but this show just sucks up every living second. You know how it is when you have one of your big bond deals going through.”
“Oh, yes.” Dwight picked up a little bottle of Evian. He wouldn’t meet her eye.
“Is something the matter?” She smeared a dollop of mayonnaise on her bread.
“Is something the matter?” repeated Dwight, in a flat voice. “I’d say so, wouldn’t you?”
Maisie’s brow furrowed. She swatted a wasp away from the mayonnaise. “What do you mean?”
Dwight chuckled. Instead of asking her where she’d like to sit, he went and sat on the edge of a low wall, near Raoul.
“Would you like to join me at the table?” she asked brightly.
“Not really.” He took a big bite of his sandwich.
“Sorry, Dwight, am I missing something?” She cocked her head, getting a nasty feeling that a scene was coming on. But it couldn’t be, not with Dwight. That was the most wonderful thing about him. You could count on him to be discreet, tasteful and highly appropriate at all times.
“I’d say so.”
Of course he wasn’t the most sparkling conversationalist, Maisie reflected as she seated herself next to him on the uncomfortable stone wall and took a bite of her sandwich. But that’s why you had friends. Choosing a husband was like picking a tasteful wallpaper pattern that wouldn’t get tiresome for being too overwhelming. “This oyster is marvelous, isn’t it? What’s in the batter, André?”
“Beer,” said the chef, as he stirred the fresh mayonnaise.
“Ah. Very cunning.” She took another neat bite.
Dwight dabbed his lips with his napkin. “I’m obviously never going to get a moment truly alone with you, and I suppose everyone would know sooner or later, so I’ll be frank…” Maisie’s throat tightened around her last mouthful of oyster. “I came here to break off our pathetic excuse for an engagement.”
“What?” Crumbs flew from her mouth. “You can’t!”
“No? Just watch me.” He took another bite. Raoul murmured something inaudible in his ear.
Maisie’s ears buzzed as hot disbelief made it hard to think straight. “But the napkins have already been monogrammed. The silver commemorative wedding goblets are being engraved by artisans in Sierra Leone. My one-of-a-kind lace veil is being hand-netted in Lausanne—”
“Then tell them to stop,” Dwight said through a mouthful. “Because the wedding’s off.”
“Why?” Her voice came out as a plaintive wail. She cleared her throat and asked more calmly, “why?”
“Let’s see. Where do I start? Oh, yes, you don’t love me, I don’t love you, and I’m gay.” He took another bite of sandwich.
“What?” she squeaked. “You’re not gay!”
Dwight looked at her. “Trust you to think you know better than I do. I would feel sorry if I thought I was really hurting you. At one point I was delusional enough to think that we were a good match in a practical, looks-good-in-print kind of way. And I would have rather died than admit that I wasn’t, shall we say, ‘into’ women.”
Maisie blinked. Frankly, it explained a few things.
“Anyway, I’ve fallen in love. His name is Matthew, and he’s a real estate developer and we’re going to build a house in Greenwich together.”
“I’m so happy for you,” she spat. “And where exactly does that leave me?”
“Exactly where you’ve been all this time. Pursuing your own goals without regard for anyone else, and—from what I heard last night—screwing any thick-necked brute who grunts in your direction.”
Maisie felt her face coloring. Had they heard? She’d been discreet. And that nasty characterization was uncalled for. At least Danny wasn’t around to hear it. Since he and Con had gone off to look for Lizzie, the intoxicating effect he’d had on her had worn off a bit, but she wasn’t quite sure what would happen when she saw him again.
“Now, now,” said Raoul. “There’s no need to get bitchy.” He patted Dwight’s knee. “Maisie has her needs that have clearly been going unmet.”
“I’ll say!” Maisie narrowly resisted the urge to throw her plate of po’boy at him. “You’ve got some nerve acting angry with me when you’re the one who’s been living a lie this whole time.”
Dwight looked at her. She’d never noticed what a cold, gray color his eyes were. As cold as his voice when he spoke. “We were both living a lie. You never cared about me, only what I could do for you. I think we can both agree to end this extended-run farce of an engagement. Feel free to bill me for the napkins.”
The sight of the white Jeep in the parking lot of the Cozy Suites Motel on the outskirts of Baton Rouge made Con’s heart thump.
She must have had a nice surprise when her credit card worked, he thought with satisfaction.
“Why don’t you knock on the door and pretend to be the maid,” said Danny, opening a shiny silver laptop. “I’ll just stay here and catch up on some record keeping. Then we’ll all go to dinner.”
“Confident, aren’t you?”
“You’re my brother. And from what I saw last night, you can charm a snake right out of its skin.”
“No more pretending and no more charm. I’m on the straight and narrow, little brother. Nothing but the pure, unvarnished truth from now on.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Danny bumped his fist against Con’s. “Just don’t forget to tell her you love her.”
Room fourteen, he’d been told when he called saying he was her new employer and needed to verify her address. Fourteen was one of a row of drab blue doors in a gray stucco wall.
He knocked. No answer. The next step was A) to start banging and begging and making a scene until either she opened the door or the police showed up, or B) to just break in. Option B was more classy, he decided.
He whipped his driver’s license out of his wallet and slid it down over the lock. Irritation rippled through him at how easily it opened.
As he pushed in the door Lizzie sat bolt upright in the double bed, the blue cover clutched around her and her glorious hair streaming out in all directions.
Joy roared through him.
“You!” she hissed. “Get out.”
“You need to take your safety more seriously and stay in a place with decent locks.” He couldn’t stop the grin ripping across his face. Damn, it was a huge relief to see her after a whole day of worry.
“I said, get out.” Her beautiful brown eyes narrowed.
“I’ve got some explaining to do. I know you think I was trying to cut you out of the show by making a deal with Maisie and I’m sorry about that, but the real reason I did it was—”
She sprang forward so fast she almost knocked him off his feet, hair flying and eyes flashing. “Go away! I hate you!”
Her fists bounced off his shoulders and he grabbed them with ease. No one ever taught this poor girl how to fight. Heat flared at the feel of her skin on his.
“Will you listen to me a second?”
“No, I’ve heard enough of your lies!” She wriggled and struggled, kicking at him with her bare feet. Her lithe, lush body bumped against him in a way that did embarrassing things to his libido.
“Lizzie, I love you.” Her breasts smooshed deliciously against his chest as he drew her close.
Her gaze met his for one stunning second. “No, you don’t.”
“I do. I was telling the honest truth when I said you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” He tightened his arms around her, holding her steady. The almond scent of her hair and the musky warmth of her skin threatened to steal his thoughts. “Just lying with my arms around you makes me the happiest man alive—”
She struggled a bit but he held her tight..
“You make me feel loved, cherished—safe—something I’ve never felt before in my whole life. I grew up lying to save my ass, figuring out which hustle would get me
through another day, but you wouldn’t let me sweet-talk my way through life and you dragged me back here to face something I couldn’t face on my own. Whether you know it or not, I believe you did it for my own good.”
He felt her sharp intake of breath. “I just wanted to make a fool of you.” Her words were cold, but her breath, warm on his neck, made him tighten his arms around her.
“I’ve been a fool, but I’m not one any more.” He’d never had such a powerful urge to spill his guts. “I do love you, Lizzie. I love your sharp mind and your sharp tongue. I love that you’re a strong woman, passionate and demanding. I love that you’re an artist.” He squeezed her. “I want to share my life with you, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer—”
She’d looked startled during most of his declaration, barely breathing, in fact, something that made hope swell inside him. But as he started reciting the marriage vows he hoped they’d share her lips drew together and he could feel her hardening against him. She lifted her eyes to his with a hollow look that made his words catch in his throat.
“I’m not dumb enough to think you’re really here because you love me. Not any more.” She shook her head. “What happened? Did the inheritance fall through and now you need to marry me to get the cash? That it? Huh?”
“It’s not like that—” His voice had dropped low. She didn’t believe a word he said. Didn’t trust him at all. And she was dead right about one thing…
“No? Oh, do tell, what exactly is it like? You need a few more establishing shots of me being knocked on my ass by your betrayal? They didn’t happen to catch my tearful departure on camera and you’d like a redo? You need me to be the maid of honor at your wedding to Maisie? What? This script changes so fast that it’s hard for me to keep up.”
Con dragged a hand through his hair. He had to tell her. “You’re right about one thing…” he paused, when he spoke again his voice was very quiet. “I’m not the heir.”
“I knew it.” She stared at him for a second, open mouthed, then wheeled around and strode across the room. Since it was so small, three strides took her right to the bathroom door. “I knew you weren’t here because you love me.” Her voice was so empty.
Con held himself steady.
He didn’t say anything for a long time. Lizzie stood with her back to him.
His mind raced with thoughts. Why hadn’t he told her about his plans to cancel the phony wedding? Why hadn’t he planned it with her? Concealment was so second nature to him that he couldn’t even be straight with the woman he loved? He’d figured he’d just pull a fast one, skip the drama and charm his way out of it later with a sparkly ring and the promise of a fancy estate?
He deserved every word she’d said. Now he didn’t even have the estate to give her. No sparkly ring either.
Just his honesty. And his true self.
He cleared his throat and straightened his back. “I don’t have anything to offer you, not in the way of money or a fine house, at least.” He paused and drew in a shaky breath. “But I do love you. I love you with my whole heart.”
Back still to him, Lizzie tossed her curls and shifted her weight. His eyes fell to the curve of her full hips. So beautiful. He wanted more than anything in the world to put his arms around her and hold her close. To hold her and never let her go.
“For a moment there,” she said at last, her voice trembling, “I thought I was experiencing déjà vu. I believe ‘I don’t have anything to offer you’ were the exact words you used to cut me loose when you found out I wasn’t rich any more.” She turned to face him, eyes wide, lip quivering. “Then you had nothing to offer me, but now it’s different, because you love me.” She bit her lip. “You, who we both know is incapable of love, by your own admission.” She drew in a deep breath, shivered as if she were cold. “I just wish I could figure out what you’re after this time.”
Con’s muscles tightened. He deserved this. His own words coming back to bite him on the ass. The fruit of his deception.
“I offered you happiness once. You bring the money, I make your life sweet: That was the deal. I admit I wasn’t upfront about it, but I knew I could deliver. I can’t offer you that anymore, not really, because we both know that without money, happiness can be hard to hold on to. But, Lizzie,” his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders. “You’ve given me my life back, my real life. I was running so hard all those years, afraid to trust anyone, afraid to care for anyone in case they got taken away from me again. I didn’t want anybody to know the real me, the one who went through all that ugliness, so I tried to hide it, to be someone else, and somewhere along the way I lost myself.”
He paused and took in a deep shuddering breath. “But now I’m in love with you…all the way.” His eyes shone. “You’ve given me back the ability to feel—to truly feel, the good and the bad.” He drew in a breath, hesitated. “I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to end each day with you in my arms. No pretense or trickery or lies, just you and me, together.”
She was still shivering. Her hand had flown to her mouth and tears glittered in her eyes. “You really mean it, don’t you?” She breathed.
“I do. I never lied to you, not in words. I love you, Lizzie, and I want you to be my wife.”
Lizzie stood there, hand pressed to her mouth. Finally she drew in a ragged breath. “You’re not the heir?”
Pain flooded his chest. Did it matter so much to her? “No. The DNA proved it. My mom was illegitimate or something. I found out this morning. It’s kind of confusing.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not.” Strength roared through him at the sight of her, almost within reach. “I thought inheriting that big house made me good enough for you. Today I lost both you and the house. Losing the house was a blow, I won’t lie, but losing you?” He shook his head. “I couldn’t let that happen.”
Lizzie stood there, fingers still pressed to her lips, tears dripping down her cheeks.
He crossed the room and took her other hand. Her soft skin on his was sweet relief. “You know what? I still think I’m good enough for you, money, or no money.” He held his chin high. “I may be an arrogant son of a bitch, cocky and quick to turn on the charm when it suits me, but I’m also smart, caring and hard working. I love you, and I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life. I can promise you that.”
Lizzie let out a choking sob. He grabbed her and held her close, her face to his chest, her tears warm on his shirt.
Emotion surged through him, painful in its intensity, as he stroked her lovely wild hair. “You will marry me, won’t you? Because I couldn’t stand it if you said no. No cameras, no fancy napkins, just you and me.” He breathed the words. “Just you and me.”
Lizzie looked up at him, eyes glittering with tears, her cheeks flushed bright pink. “Yes, I will. Of course I will. Did you really think I could say no?” She laughed, crying at the same time. “I’ve been a sucker for you since day one, I can’t help myself. I love everything about you. Your devilish charm, your bad-boy cool, your aristocratic sense of entitlement—” She blinked away tears. “The way you tell me I’m pretty like you really mean it—” She bit her lip, suddenly shy. “The way you like to cuddle after sex like a contented puppy—” Her smile sent pleasure rippling through him. “I’m awed by the way you know how to do everything—from eating an artichoke to picking a lock, and most of all…” She paused, eyes sparkling, “I love the way you’ve proved you really care about me, even when it’s inconvenient, expensive and embarrassing.”
She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight, and they kissed until he couldn’t breathe. His happiness was so intense he didn’t know how to handle it. Stripping off Lizzie’s clothes was a good start.
He unbuttoned her flimsy blouse and unhooked her bra, worshipping her warm, fragrant body with his lips and tongue and pressing his face and fingertips into her satiny softness. He eased down her white cotton bikinis, his breathing audibl
e as his tongue yearned to taste the honey sweetness of her sex.
As he buried his face between her thighs, Lizzie moaned his name and made his joy even more incandescent and explosive.
She helped pull off his clothes, and they fell to the bed, half blind with desire. They made love with total abandon and a tremendous amount of noise until they both lay panting, sweating and holding each other with fierce affection.
“Do you think we can get married today?” he said. “Before any other crazy shit happens?”
“We can try,” she whispered, grinning from ear to ear. “But I’ll marry you just as happily tomorrow, or the next day, or the next day…” she punctuated her speech with kisses that made his skin tingle and his cock harden—again. Lizzie wriggled against him, ready to start in on round— Three? Four?
A harsh rap on the door startled them out of frenzied kissing. They froze, naked on the bed, the sheet long gone. Con tore himself away from Lizzie and groped around for the sheet. He found it hanging off the far end of the bed and drew it up over them.
The knock came again. “Hey, Con, it’s Danny.”
“Um, Danny, we’re kind of indisposed.”
“Yeah, I figured. But it’s Maisie. She won’t quit calling.”
“Whose fault is that?” Con winked at Lizzie as they both shook with silent laughter.
“She’s not calling for me, big brother. She has to talk to you about something. It’s urgent.” The last word was a credible imitation of Maisie’s clipped tones that made Con chuckle. “Could you do me a big-ass personal favor and call her back before she drives me out of my mind?”
“Ask him in,” whispered Lizzie. “He’s practically my brother-in-law.” Her eyes shone. He planted one last kiss on her nose before diving for a towel and opening the door.
Danny came in looking very large and very shy.
A Bad Boy is Good to Find Page 27