Sweet Southern Betrayal

by Robin Covington

  There was a pause and Teague’s skin tightened with a sudden apprehension. A prickle on the back of his neck didn’t even begin to describe the rush of blood-buzzing angst that shot through his veins. Leland had another shoe to drop and he had no idea what it could be.

  “I was also wondering when you were planning on bringing Mrs. Elliott to meet me.”

  Teague knew he wasn’t talking about his mother.

  Fuck.

  “So, you heard?” It wasn’t atypical for the firm to do background checks on the members of the firm—it was expected—and his had been completed months ago. He’d taken the cute girl in their HR department out to a very expensive dinner in exchange for a copy of the report.

  “When you didn’t answer your cell phone I called the office and your lovely assistant, Jerline, told me about the wedding reception you had last night.”

  “I…” Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. “It happened so suddenly, I was going to wait until I saw you in person.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear it. I thought for a moment you were trying to hide something from us.”

  Cold sweat broke out between his shoulder blades and Teague knew that the next few moments would make or break him with Harrison & Duff.

  “No way. She just got here from Las Vegas and we were talking about coming to DC this morning. You name the date.”

  “Tomorrow,” Leland said. “I can arrange for a late supper at the club. If you get here early, we can go over some of the cases before the celebration.”

  Teague had to clear his throat of the panic before he could answer. “Sounds great. Risa is excited to meet you.”

  “I have to admit I was surprised to hear of this woman. I thought you were seeing Olivia Stone.” Leland chuckled into the phone. “Although I don’t pretend to know what that even means anymore.”

  “We haven’t seen each other in a few months. Risa, my wife, is someone I met when I was working in Vegas on the last deal for Bertrand Corp.” Teague was proud of how quickly he was making this shit up. “She works in the entertainment branch of the Gold Coast Casino.”

  “Oh really? What exactly?”

  “She dances in their show. She’s a professional dancer.” He sucked in a breath waiting to hear how Leland reacted to that information. There was no way he was going to bring up her side business.

  “Next thing you’ll tell me that you met her and married her in one of those tacky wedding chapels the same night.” Leland barked out a laugh and Teague froze on his end of the phone, grateful that he didn’t have a visual connection. “Hang on.”

  Teague listened as Leland spoke to someone on his end, his deep voice sharp and decisive. He came back on the line quickly.

  “I’ve got to go. I’ll have one of the assistants call you with the details about dinner. See you tomorrow.”

  And then he was gone and Teague was left in silence, the phone leaden in his grip as he placed it back in the cradle.

  Holy hell.

  He leaned forward, cradling his head in his hands while he cataloged all the ways he was royally fucked by this development. He didn’t know how this was going to work, but he was damn well not going to let this derail his partnership. To be this close—fuck. He’d figure out a plan for damage control and survival. It was his area of expertise. He was a fixer and now the problem was personal.

  He just needed to convince Risa to stay.

  …

  Big Tony finally left a voice mail.

  Risa pressed the voice mail button on her smartphone and pressed the phone to her ear, holding her breath as the message began to play:

  “Risa. I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re doing but you need to get back here and give me my shit back. I’m going to presume that this is first-time nerves and I’m willing to overlook the dumb-as-fuck stunt you pulled if you get your ass back here in the next twenty-four hours. After that you’ll force me to send Frank to bring you back here. Don’t make me do it.”

  When the threats ended, she hit the delete button and sank to the couch because her legs refused to hold her up any longer. In her life, she’d known fear—there were times she still woke up in a cold sweat when her brain replayed her first night on the streets—but this was different because she had the option to make this problem go away. All she had to do was to give the thumb drive to Big Tony and her problems would all be over.

  All she had to do was complete her betrayal of Teague.

  After last night, she knew she couldn’t do that. Ever.

  All she could think of was the way he touched her, the way he ruled her body with his voice, the way he made her want more. She knew in her head that reliving every breathless, aching moment was a bad idea. Letting her thoughts linger over the way he’d taken her this morning—sleepy and warm—covering her with his body and slipping inside her with embarrassing ease from behind. His fingers teasing her nipples and then drifting lower to touch her clit and set her off like the nightly fireworks display at the Bellagio.

  The most enticing thing about Teague was the way he made her feel. Special. Important. His equal. He wasn’t like the men who came to Vegas to flash their money and treated her like nothing more than a pair of C-cups and a costume.

  No. She needed to turn off her brain, pack, and get on that plane.

  Risa heard Teague’s footsteps pounding on the stairwell long before he came through the door. Good thing, too. She needed the extra few seconds to collect herself and prepare for the last few hours with her husband.

  “Risa!” Teague burst through the door to the apartment, letting it swing on its hinges without bothering to close it behind him. His face was tense, jaw tight, and his eyes were bright with his anxiety. He was seriously freaking out.

  “What is it? Are you okay?” She dropped her hoodie onto her carry-on bag and walked over to him, reaching up to cup his cheek before she thought twice about it.

  “I need you to stay,” he said.

  “What?” Risa jumped back, dropping her hand like he was a live wire. She couldn’t stop the flutter in her heart and belly at his words, panic quickly following on the heels of the stupid hope that flared in her heart. Women like her didn’t think thoughts like that about men like Teague.

  “Leland, my boss, found out we’re married and he’s insisting we go to DC tomorrow to meet him. We need to change your flight.”

  Teague took a step forward and she took two back. That was so not going to happen.

  “No. I can’t do that,” she said, impressed with how firm her voice sounded.

  “You don’t understand—”

  “I do understand.” She shook her head to emphasize her point. “I’m a showgirl, Teague, not an actress, and I can’t pull it off.”

  “You can. I know it. Say yes.”

  “No.” She backed up again, needing the extra distance to combat the way his eyes begged her to change her mind. There was a whole lot of vulnerability in their gray-green depths and she was a sucker for a hot guy with an issue. She was a real pushover for this guy, but that didn’t mean she was going to stick around and get more involved with this man and his life. Not after last night. Not after the way she’d responded to his every touch. Not after how he made her…feel. This was a man she could get lost in emotionally and physically, and that was why it had to end.

  “I need to get back to my life, my business, my job.” She wrapped her arms around her waist as he let loose a particularly heartfelt groan of disappointment. But she needed to get back to Nevada, get Pepper, and disappear. It was only a matter of time before Big Tony sent someone to find her.

  “Work for me.”

  “That’s cr—”

  “Hear me out. I get that you need to work and you can do this for me as a job. I’ll pay you.” Teague took two long strides to end right in front of her. She was close enough to smell his cologne and the sharp tang underneath that was pure Teague. “You name the price and I’ll pay it.”

  She reached behind her, finding a barstool and
sinking onto it with legs shaky with the adrenaline that was coursing through her and making her heart race. This was nuts and she knew it. Nothing good would come of this. But she could use the money. She needed a whole lot of money and fast. Any amount would help her start over.

  “How long?” She swallowed hard and asked again. “How long do you need me to stay?”

  “Two weeks. Tops.” He moved forward, bracing his hands against the arms of the barstool and forcing her to look up at him. “Please, Risa. In two weeks I’ll be a partner and we can both walk away. The annulment will go through and we can go back to our lives. You have no idea how much I need this. I’m begging.”

  Oh sweet baby Jesus. Not the begging.

  “Please.”

  “Ten thousand dollars,” she whispered.

  “What?” he asked, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline.

  “Give me ten thousand dollars and I’ll stay.”

  “Is that the amount you owe?” Teague came in closer, almost nose-to-nose with her, his body echoing his demand. “Is that why you’ve been getting calls every hour on the hour since you got here?”

  “How did you know that?”

  “You’re a fascinating woman. I’ve made it my business to know things about you.”

  Risa swallowed hard, the thrill at his words battling with the fear that he’d keep digging until he found out the truth. She amended her requirement. “Ten thousand dollars and no questions.”

  He stared her down, searching her face for something, and she decided he found it since he gave a short nod and backed up. He didn’t look happy about it, but he did look agreeable.

  “Fine. Ten grand and no questions.”

  “Thank you.” She sighed with relief.

  “No, thank you.” He reached out, fingers brushing along her jaw, his expression changing into one of concern. “Just to be clear…last night…”

  “I get it. Last night was apocalypse sex and now that the world isn’t going to explode we’re avoiding a repeat. Got it.”

  He frowned, the gesture making his features more angular than usual. He shook his head, stepping into her space and spanning her waist with his large, warm hands. His chest pressed against hers and stole her ability to breathe deeply.

  “No. I just want to be clear. I don’t have any expectations of you sleeping with me in order for you to get the money. The payment is for you to play the part of my wife in public. What we do in private has no impact on you getting that money.”

  She exhaled slowly, her heart racing when she took in more oxygen. “Good to know.”

  He leaned in, mouth hovering over hers, so close she could feel every puff of air as he breathed in and out. Just as she swayed forward to touch his lips with her own, he veered to the right, stopping to whisper in her ear. “My bed is always open to you. No strings. No expectations. Just more of last night. I’ll be waiting for your signal.”

  And then he released her, heading back downstairs to the office. Risa swayed on her feet, only avoiding a face-plant onto the hardwood floors when she flailed out to grab the barstool for balance.

  She knew what she should do.

  She knew what she was going to do.

  She was in so much trouble.

  …

  In his gut, Teague had known Risa could pull it off.

  They sat in the plush private dining room at the firm’s private club and she shone like the stars reflected on the surface of the Potomac River just beyond the panoramic view of the Washington skyline. Although he’d been dreading this event, the day and evening had proved to be enjoyable.

  “You look beautiful tonight,” he murmured in her ear, the tendrils of her silky hair tickling his lips.

  “Thank you.” She ran a hand over her emerald-green silk dress and up to briefly trace the plunge of her neckline.

  “I think all the women wish they could pull of a dress like that, and all the men are wishing they could see you take it off.”

  “You’re exaggerating.”

  “I’m not. I know I wanted to fall to my knees and worship you when I first saw you in it.”

  “Oh really?” She bit back a laugh and gave him a sidelong glimpse of green and silver behind her long, dark lashes. “Well, you’ll hit your knees when you get your credit card bill and see how much I paid for it.”

  “I don’t care.”

  And he didn’t. She was dazzling them all, including him, at the dinner table with her easy manners and ready smile. She was damn near perfect.

  “I missed you today,” he murmured without thinking, her only reaction the pink flush on her cheek. “I’m sitting in my meetings and I’m wondering what you’re doing.”

  “Sightseeing. You would’ve hated it.”

  “I’m not so sure,” he said, surprising them both with the truth of it.

  Leland interrupted them with a question to Olivia, a lobbyist who worked with the firm and until a few months ago, Teague’s occasional bed partner. They’d ended amicably, both knowing that it was going nowhere fast. It had been a huge relief when no drama had ensued, but the look on her face when he’d entered the room with Risa on his arm made him wonder if her easygoing attitude had all been a lie. While everyone else had welcomed Risa politely, Olivia had been cold and distant, even when Risa had reached out.

  “So, Olivia, I understand from my wife that you are chairing the fund-raising gala for the Shepherd Foundation for the Homeless this year.”

  Olivia smiled; it was cold and lifeless, but her red lipstick made it look good. “That’s right, although I’m trying to convince the committee we shouldn’t have to actually go down to the shelters to work with these people. That’s just not how it works.” She tossed her blond hair over her shoulder, looking around to gather support for her position. Several people nodded in agreement and that encouraged her to continue. “I mean, I raise the money to keep the shelters going. It should be enough.”

  Teague resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He’d heard this whine from her often enough over the years he’d known her.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Risa said from his side and he turned to look at her, knowing he wasn’t hiding his surprise at her agreement. What little he knew of her did not jibe with this. She flicked a glance at him and the edgy mischief there set off the alarm bells in his head. “Who wants a bunch of do-gooders coming around to make themselves feel better while they gawk at the poor people who have nowhere else to go? It makes the entire situation entirely too awkward.”

  Risa’s sarcasm was lost on Olivia, who plodded on, missing the uncomfortable looks that were now passing around the table. “I know. The current structure works just fine and saves everyone the embarrassment.”

  Teague pressed his knee against Risa, and she reached under the table, grabbing his thigh, her fingernails digging in enough to warn him to back off. She smiled sweetly as she delivered the final blow. “Absolutely. I know when I was sixteen and homeless, the last thing I wanted to experience at the shelter was a little bit of actual human kindness.”

  Teague barely registered whatever response Olivia made. All he could think of was what Risa had revealed about her past. He could barely breathe with the picture of a young, vulnerable Risa left on the street, having to protect herself against God knows what. He blindly groped around under the table until her found her hand—cold as ice—and wove their fingers together. He squeezed lightly and she answered with one of her own before she withdrew and rose from the table.

  “Excuse me. I need to freshen up.”

  He rose with her, grabbing her hand again, and following her over to the doorway that led out of the private dining room. She kept walking, but gave little resistance when he circled her waist with his arm and pulled her to him.

  “You okay?” he asked, dipping down to look at her face. When she looked up he saw anger and regret warring for dominance in her eyes.

  “I’m fine. She’s an unbelievable bitch.” She clapped a hand over her mouth, alarm written
all over her expression. She took a deep breath, casting a quick glance around before she looked at him again. “I’m sorry. That was…”

  “No, it was fine. Olivia deserved it. Her remarks were thoughtless and embarrassing.” Teague tightened his hold on her. “Are you okay? What you said…”

  “Later.” Risa’s fingers tightened where they gripped his arms, but it was the pleading in her voice that stopped him from asking any further questions.

  “Later.”

  She nodded and withdrew from his arms, heading down the hallway to the restroom.

  Her departure signaled a general shift of people to excuse themselves or re-form into smaller conversational groups. As he returned to his seat, Olivia got up from the table, back stiff and face cold, and headed in the general vicinity of the ladies’ lounge. That couldn’t be good.

  “I put five bucks on Risa to knock Olivia on her bony ass,” Leland murmured only loud enough for Teague to hear.

  Teague chuckled at the visual. “I know better than to bet against Risa,” he said before taking a sip of his whiskey.

  “She’s quite beautiful. Poised. Easy and charming,” Leland said. “She’ll look great on campaign posters.”

  “I agree.” The thought that she wouldn’t be around to be on any campaign poster crossed his mind and he schooled his features to not let it show. “I am a lucky man.”

  “You are.”

  “What she just talked about, the homeless thing, that will play well for the voters as well.” Leland took another sip of his drink. “You can’t buy that kind of demographic targeting.”

  “I don’t think she was homeless so she could help my eventual campaign,” Teague said, biting back the temper that flared in his gut. Leland was talking about Risa as if she were a prop for a movie and not a child who’d been forced to live on the streets.

  Silence descended between them and he didn’t jump in to fill it.

  “Quite an interesting business she has on the side.”

  There it was. Leland had done his homework. “Behind Closed Doors? Yes, she’s proud of it.”

  “As she should be. It’s quite innovative, although undercapitalized as most start-ups are these days.”