Lady Be Good Part 25

The tips of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s rubbed against the light mat of hair on his chest. The insides of her thighs abraded the jeans he'd never completely removed. With her mouth above his, this kiss was different, and she reveled in the novelty. But she wanted more. She wanted him to trust her enough to let her lead the way.

His hands curled around her b.u.t.tocks and his thumbs performed a trick she'd never imagined at the exact place where they were joined.

"Don't stop ..." she managed. "Whatever you do, don't ..."

He didn't. And the sweet, hot flood swept them away.

Chapter 16

Afterward, Emma was glad of the activity, all the tissue-fumbling and clothes-sorting. Kenny seemed glad, too. Maybe he felt the same way she did, that there was something dangerous about so much urgency, something distinctly threatening about two incompatible adults being so wild to get their hands all over each other that they couldn't wait to find a bed. and clothes-sorting. Kenny seemed glad, too. Maybe he felt the same way she did, that there was something dangerous about so much urgency, something distinctly threatening about two incompatible adults being so wild to get their hands all over each other that they couldn't wait to find a bed.

She wondered if every woman had to be attracted to a bad boy once in her life. Apparently she did. Maybe she needed to get Kenny Traveler out of her system so that someday there would be s.p.a.ce for the right relations.h.i.+p, one that was healthy and appropriate. Maybe she needed Kenny Traveler, just as she'd needed her immunity shots. One dose would protect her from playboys like him for the rest of her life. She began b.u.t.toning her blouse as she thought it over.

Kenny stepped out of the car. As he pushed his s.h.i.+rt back in his jeans, he noticed that Emma was fastening her b.u.t.tons wrong, but he knew if he pointed it out, she'd just get all huffy again and say he was criticizing her.

As she looked up at him with those puffy, swollen lips and rumpled b.u.t.terscotch curls that reminded him of ice-cream sauce, something weird happened to his middle. Last night had been so good he didn't even like to think about it, except it was just about all he'd been able to think about, which was probably why he'd gone so crazy during the baby race. And today ... one minute they'd been arguing, and the next thing he knew, they were skin-to-skin in his car.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd done it in a car. Hardly ever. Rich kids didn't have to. Rich kids had cabanas, or if that wasn't private enough, plenty of cash to pay for a motel up in Llano County.

G.o.d, he'd loved making love with her. All that enthusiasm. She didn't know how to hold anything back. She gave it one hundred and ten percent, just the way he liked.

Because of the mismatched b.u.t.tons, her blouse clung to one breast, which made him remember how it had filled his hand. As he gazed at her, he felt this traitorous tenderness. It made him nervous. She was too controlling, too demanding. Since he knew how badly he needed to get both of them back to the safe company of other people, he couldn't believe the words that came out of his mouth.

"Do you want to take a walk down to the river?"

She blinked those pretty honey-brown eyes. "I'd quite like that."

Just as if he'd asked her to join him for tea and crumpets.

She slid across the seat. He helped her out, then held on to her hand. It was small, but strong. He rubbed the callous on the side of his index finger over her palm. The sound of rus.h.i.+ng water kept them company as they walked toward the river. He heard the chatter of a squirrel, the call of a mockingbird, everything but Emma giving orders. For someone who liked to talk so much, why did she have to choose now to get quiet? Her silence unnerved him, and he spoke without thinking. "I brought Petie here earlier."

"Did he settle, then?"

"Yes." He cleared his throat. "The two of us needed to talk."

She bristled. "You certainly did. I suppose we can only be grateful that something positive came out of that ugly incident. You'll never do that to him again."

Her p.r.i.c.kly response should have set him off, but instead it felt good, almost relaxing. She knew exactly what that baby boy meant to him and how much he regretted what he'd done. Still, he didn't want her to get too full of herself.

"You've got to toughen them up when they're young or they'll turn into pansies."

She had the gall to laugh. "Give it up, Kenny. When it comes to Peter, you're putty."

"Yeah, well, he's pretty special." He smiled and started to change the subject, then realized he wanted to talk it over with her. Not exactly on a personal basis, more a professional one. She was an expert in child development, wasn't she?

"See, the thing is ... the old man can be tough, and ... I just worry about Petie, that's all."

Those honey-sweet eyes of hers zeroed in on him like high-tech weapons. "You're afraid your father will be as bad a parent to Peter as he was to you?"

He immediately bristled. "My father did what he needed to. After the way my mother behaved, he sure couldn't fawn all over me, too."

"No, but I suspect he went too far in the other direction. I've seen this happen with several of my students. From what you've said, your father doesn't seem to have been around much when you needed him, and when he was around, I can only imagine that he was highly critical of you."

"Mrs. Sneed called me at work. She said you ripped the head off Mary Beth's Barbie doll and then threw it down the sewer. Only a coward does something like that to a girl. A nasty little coward."

"I was a brat."

"Yes, well, quite a bit of that was his fault. I'm certain you were desperate for his attention, and misbehavior must have been the only way you could get it. You were a healthy little boy being suffocated by a highly neurotic mother, and your father didn't seem to have interceded when he should have. Really, Kenny, you received such appalling parenting that it's a wonder you didn't end up mutilating small animals. It's not surprising that you still resent him."

"I never said that."

Nothing stopped Lady E once she got going, and she went on as if he hadn't spoken. "You really need to forgive him, you know. For both your sakes."

He shrugged, acting real casual. "I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about."

"And then there's the problem of Peter. You're afraid your father is going to neglect him the same way he once neglected you. That Peter is going to have to win his love as you did, instead of simply being given it as a birthright."

He forced his stiff jaws to open in a yawn. "You're so full of it you should be fertilizer."

Instead of getting huffy, she actually squeezed his hand, which, until that moment, he'd forgotten was tightly clasped around hers.

"Don't worry so much about Peter. Shelby isn't like your mother, and I'm certain she'll prove to be a staunch defender of his rights. I also suspect your father has learned from his mistakes. The way he looks at you when you're not watching is quite heart-wrenching. And even if I'm wrong, Peter has something in his favor you didn't have."

He scratched his arm and looked bored. "Yeah? What's that?"

"You, of course."

He felt as if he'd taken a sucker punch, which made it hard for him to respond as casually as he wanted. "Not a h.e.l.l of a lot to take to the bank."

"Quite a lot, actually. Unconditional love is very powerful."

"I guess."

"When you think back on your childhood, Kenny, I hope you give yourself credit for having survived so well. It's hard to imagine anyone getting much worse parenting than you."

"What about Torie?"

"At least Torie had unconditional love from one parent. You didn't have it from either one."

"What are you talking about? My mother wors.h.i.+ped the ground I walked on. That was the whole problem."

"That wasn't real love. There must have been a thousand strings attached to her feelings for you."

She was right. He'd been expected to dote on his mother as if she were the only person in his life.

"Kenny, punkin', you don't want to go play with those white-trash boys. Stay with me. I'll buy you that new radio-controlled airplane we saw on television. They'll all want it, and you'll be the most popular boy in the school."

Instead, he'd been the most despised.

He tried to act nonchalant. "Yeah, I guess you might be right."

"I'm something of an expert on the subject."

He heard the slight edge to her voice. "I gather you're not just speaking professionally."

She shrugged. "Not entirely. My parents loved me, I suppose, but they loved their work more. I was quite lonely." She pulled away from him and walked down to the riverbank. As he followed her, he was glad the shoe was finally on the other foot.

She smiled at him when he reached her side. "There's nothing more boring than listening to successful adults whine about how mistreated they were as children, is there?"

"You're sure right about that." He picked up a flat stone and skipped it across the river toward the limestone bluff that rose on the other side. It hopped four times before it sank. "I guess I can understand why you might be a little peculiar when it comes to St. Gert's. Just like I might be a little peculiar about Petie." He skipped another stone, then looked down at her, feeling tense, although he wasn't sure why. "So, once you tell the duke what's happened between us, I guess you're off the hook."

She didn't reply immediately. "I don't know. He seems to believe what he wants to believe, doesn't he?" Her forehead crumpled, and this "off with his head" look flashed in her eyes. "I don't want to tell him what happened between the two of us! That was private, and it's none of his b.l.o.o.d.y business!"

He smiled, selfishly pleased by her response. "You do seem to have yourself in a fix."

She muttered something he couldn't quite make out, but he thought he heard another b.l.o.o.d.y b.l.o.o.d.y.

"I'll bet I can hit that." He pointed toward a boulder rising out of the water on the far side of the river and picked up another stone. He threw, but he was short. "Two out of three."

"The water's so clear here. This is the most beautiful place."

"I've always liked it. I used to come here when I was a kid, right after I beat up somebody or bullied them until they cried." He hooked his second shot.

"I'm sure you believed that, if you were bad enough, someone would eventually put a stop to it."

"I guess." He missed again. "One more." The stone glanced off the boulder.

"Excellent." She smiled. "And that's what Dallie did, isn't it? He put a stop to it."

"Who told you that?"

"I put two and two together."

"I guess I've had about as much psychotherapy as I can handle in one day. Besides, you're the crazy one, not me. Just ask Father Joseph."

She winced. "It's a good thing I'll be leaving soon. I'll never be able to look that man in the eye again."

He didn't like to think about her leaving, even though, in some ways, he couldn't wait to get her off his hands. "I'll explain what happened. At least I'll explain most of it." He curled his hand around the back of her neck and rubbed. "If we still intend to get to Austin today, we'd better take off. We can stop at the house first if you want to change."

"I'd like that."

They drove back to the house, but the bedroom was too inviting, and they never did make it to Austin.

Torie had penned her emus at the back of her father's property. At least her folly was out of sight here, if not out of mind. Before her divorce, when she'd lived in Dallas, she'd boarded them at a ranch south of the city, but that had gotten too expensive, and she'd talked her father into letting her move them here. There were eighteen of the ugly ostrich look-alikes now, with their long necks, dark sooty feathers, and spindly legs. Sometimes she tried to convince herself they were pretty, but generally she didn't waste effort. She looked away from a nest with three more huge emerald eggs.

"That's Elmer by the fence," she said. "He's one of the original breeding pair. And his lady Polly's in the middle of the group over there."

"You named them?"

She was already regretting the impulse that had led her to invite Dexter to see her animals. "What's wrong with that?"

He gazed down at her, and the green-flecked eyes behind the lenses of his wire-rimmed gla.s.ses reflected a depth of curiosity she found unnerving. "I'm not a rancher," he said, "but I understand it's generally considered harder to slaughter animals you've named."

The evening breeze blew a lock of hair across her cheek. "Even without names, I probably wouldn't have been able to have them-Oh, never mind." She impatiently hooked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Investing in the emus was stupid, but my marriage to Tommy was falling apart and it seemed like a good idea at the time."

"You wanted to be able to support yourself. That's understandable."

"It was stupid."

He pushed his hands into the pockets of another of what seemed to be an endless supply of khaki slacks. "You're a risk-taker. These things happen. At least you're trying to live up to your responsibilities. I understand lots of people just let their emus loose so they won't have to feed them."

"I'm irresponsible, but even I wouldn't do anything like that."

"I don't think you're irresponsible."

He spoke so sincerely that she felt flattered. It was nice to have the approval of someone as serious-minded as Dexter O'Conner. That pleasant feeling vanished at his next words.

"Have you thought about what you want to do with your life, in the event we do get married?"

"We're not getting married!"

"Probably not. But if we do, you'll need to find a better way to spend your time than shopping and worrying about your emus."

"You've got a ton of money. I could shop for years without putting a dent in it." She realized he'd once again sucked her into a discussion of the unthinkable.

"That's not the point. When I come home in the evenings, you'll probably want to ask me about my day, and I'll tell you the parts of it that you might find interesting. Then I'll ask you about your day, and all you'll be able to tell me is that there was a sportswear sale at Nieman's. That would be humiliating for you."

"You're so weird."

"I'm not necessarily talking about a full-time job. But it's time you contributed something more to the world than a beautiful face. You'll never be happy if you don't have a higher purpose than shopping."

"You have no idea what makes me happy!"

He ignored that. "If you could do anything with your life, what would it be? And I'm not talking about raising children because we both already know how we feel about that, and only time will tell."

She waited for the stab of pain that the subject always brought to her, but, for once, it didn't come. She couldn't understand why. What was there about this goofy, brainy man that she found comforting? She thought about the confrontation she'd had with her father after she'd learned he'd been behind the scheme to marry her off to Dexter. He hadn't tried to deny it, hadn't even apologized. He'd just told her he loved her and said that enough was enough. Afterward, she'd felt completely worthless.

"All I know how to do is cuss, play golf, and look good in clothes."

"And?" He waited patiently.

"And nothing."