Lady Be Good Part 40

"Clothesline!" he croaked.

"I may not have to use it. Not if you follow instructions."

He regarded her warily. The first thing she'd done when they got back to the ranch was order him into the shower-by himself!-and announce that she'd meet him when he was done. Now here she was, wrapped in a frilly little white piece of nothing with violets scattered all over it.

He'd pulled on a pair of jeans, but, feeling optimistic, he hadn't bothered with anything else.

She gave him a brilliant smile, happy right down to the tips of her toes. He understood the feeling. This woman was the love of his life, and he wasn't ever going to let her go. That didn't mean, however, he'd allow things to get boring.

"Maybe it's about time you tell me exactly what point number five involves."

"Let me see.... How to explain in a way you'll understand...." She tapped her index finger against her front tooth, then smiled brightly. "Nothing to do, I suppose, but come right out with it. I'm dominating, you're submitting."

"You're kidding."

"Oh, no." She walked over to the nightstand, picked up his his wallet, pulled out some bills, and dangled the money in front of him. "I believe this will take care of your fee for the night." She took her time stuffing the bills into the front pocket of his jeans. d.a.m.n, but he was going to enjoy being married to this woman. wallet, pulled out some bills, and dangled the money in front of him. "I believe this will take care of your fee for the night." She took her time stuffing the bills into the front pocket of his jeans. d.a.m.n, but he was going to enjoy being married to this woman.

"My fee?"

"For following orders. Being my submissive s.e.x object. My hired escort escort for the night." She studied his body, making him feel as if he were being scrutinized for purchase by a very cute wolf. It was a nice feeling. But he didn't want to spoil her fun by giving in too easily, and he managed to glower at her. "Exactly what do you think you're doing?" for the night." She studied his body, making him feel as if he were being scrutinized for purchase by a very cute wolf. It was a nice feeling. But he didn't want to spoil her fun by giving in too easily, and he managed to glower at her. "Exactly what do you think you're doing?"

"Uhmm ..." She actually licked her lips. "Deciding which part of you I'm going to feast on first."

Hot blood surged through his body, and his skin got clammy all over again. She knelt on the bed, looped a finger through one of the belt loops of his painfully tight jeans, and tugged. "I pick ... here." Clasping his hips in her palms, she nuzzled the skin right above his zipper, and, before he knew what was happening, she had him naked and flat on his back, where she began subjecting him to the most exquisite torture he'd ever experienced.

As he fought for sanity, he tried to remember why he'd been so adamant about not letting her take the lead in bed. Just one more way he'd allowed his past to screw up his life. Well, no more....

"I think ..." he managed, "you're missing a spot."

"It's a lot more than a spot," she said saucily, "and I want to hear you beg."

As it turned out, a whole lot of begging went on in that bed for the rest of the night, and not all of it came from him. Most of it did, though, and he had the time of his life. Point number five, he decided, had a lot going for it.

Toward dawn, they found themselves awake again. "Did you ever imagine it could be like this?" she whispered against his inner arm.

"Not in a million years." He trailed one of her silky curls through his fingers. "I love you so much, baby. More than you can imagine."

"I can imagine," she said. "Because I know how much I love you."

They lay there for a while, petting each other and feeling happy.

"I've been thinking ..." He smiled against her hair. "With your leaders.h.i.+p skills and my talent for rescuing you from embarra.s.sing situations, I do believe we're going to have ourselves a fine life."

"A very fine life." She kissed him. "I insist upon it."

Epilogue.

Emma opened one of the b.u.t.tons on the light blue dress s.h.i.+rt Kenny had just finished fastening. "I'm in the mood for point number six." s.h.i.+rt Kenny had just finished fastening. "I'm in the mood for point number six."

His hand was warm as it curled around her hip. "Absolutely not. The last time you insisted on point number six I pulled a hamstring."

"Stop exaggerating. You didn't pull a hamstring."

"Just about." He bathed her with the smile he kept in reserve just for her. "Besides, pregnant women have no business messing around with point number six."

One of the very best things about seeing so much of Francesca was having the opportunity to learn from a master, and Emma actually managed a pout. "But I have my heart set on it."

He nibbled at her bottom lip ... which was one of the very best things about pouting. "You sure?"

"Uhmm ..."

"All right, then. I s'pose we can let Patrick entertain our guests till we get downstairs."

"Our guests! I forgot!" She leaped away from him and scrambled toward her closet, where she grabbed a loose-fitting coffee-colored sheath. "Goodness, Kenny, they'll be here any minute. This is all your fault. If you hadn't started kissing me ..."

"Can't seem to avoid it. You and your big belly are about the cutest things I've ever seen."

She grinned at him. She was only three months pregnant, and her belly wasn't big at all. They hadn't even told anyone yet, although they planned to do exactly that during today's Thanksgiving dinner.

She and Kenny had loved keeping this secret to themselves, whispering over it just before they fell asleep at night, discussing names, exchanging secret smiles. Who could have imagined that a handsome rogue like Kenny Traveler could get so much enjoyment from having a pregnant wife?

Her condition had made her emotional, and her eyes misted. She loved being married to him, loved him so much that just watching him walk into a room filled her with pleasure. He was proving to be the very best sort of husband-pa.s.sionate, loving, and utterly steadfast.

And she was rather proud of herself for being the best sort of wife-at least for him. She knew she was partially responsible for the fact that he had stopped letting the past shape his ident.i.ty. Now he was the man he should have been all along-someone who was comfortable in his own skin and no longer doing penance for his childhood.

Although he still loved playing the lazy doofus within the family, no one seemed to be fooled. And since their marriage, his popularity with the public had blossomed, thanks in large part to Francesca Beaudine, who'd overlooked her long-standing policy of not interviewing golfers-"the most boring athletes in the world"-on her monthly Francesca Today Francesca Today television special. television special.

The interview had taken place on the sunporch at the ranch, with Kenny and Emma sitting on the couch and Francesca elegantly perched in a nearby chair. During the course of the interview, Emma had, among other things, reduced Sturgis Randall to toast. She'd also defended her husband with a humor and vigor that had convinced the American public that Kenny Traveler couldn't be quite as pampered as they thought, not if he'd chosen to marry a down-to-earth sc.r.a.pper like Emma. It hadn't hurt that Francesca, who at no time during her career had ever pretended at journalistic detachment, also joined in Kenny's defense.

"The most embarra.s.sing interview I ever went through in my life." Kenny'd shuddered afterward to Warren and Dallie. "With the way those two women were going at it, I could hardly get a word in edgewise. Promise me something, both of you. If Emma ever decides to drag me in front of the cameras like that again, one of you'll just shoot me."

While Dallie had laughed, Warren had pretended sympathy, but Emma knew he was delighted to have his son publicly vindicated.

Unlike Sturgis Randall, Hugh Holroyd had escaped her public censure, but only because Emma had been afraid he'd use St. Gert's to retaliate. At the time of the interview, her continuing worry about the school's future had been the only mark on her happiness. Not long afterward, however, she'd hit upon a new plan of action. After dozens of phone calls, she and Penelope Briggs had managed to put together a consortium of parents, alums, local businesspeople, and miscellaneous Travelers who wanted to buy St. Gert's. Unfortunately, Hugh had discovered Emma was behind the deal and had perversely refused to accept.

Until Kenny had intervened.

Emma fastened her latest gift from her husband around her neck, a breathtaking necklace of delicate gold vines. She smiled to herself as she remembered what had happened at Royal Lytham and St. Annes three months earlier during the British Open.

Playing spectacular golf, plus having an English wife, had made Kenny the most popular of the American players with the British public and press, and just before he'd gone into the final round, he'd asked Warren to put a phone call through to Hugh. Acting on Kenny's instructions, Warren had advised the Duke of Beddington that Kenny would be using his press conference that day to entertain the press with some fascinating stories of his wife's conflict with her former employer. Unless, of course, Hugh decided to behave reasonably.

It had been one thing for Emma to threaten exposure to Lower Tilbey's garden columnist, but CNN was quite another matter. Hugh had agreed to accept the consortium's offer and wash his hands of St. Gert's.

Now, in addition to Emma and Kenny, Shelby Traveler was also a part owner of the old school, a surprise birthday present from Warren for his Anglophile wife. Shelby had become a fierce watchdog for St. Gert's, and, at Emma's suggestion, had ably represented the consortium at the last Founder's Day celebration.

In the months since their marriage, Emma had grown increasingly fond, not only of Shelby, but also of Warren Traveler. In the way of men, he and Kenny didn't talk much about the fact that their relations.h.i.+p had finally healed. Instead, they simply spent time together: on the golf course, riding horses, playing with Peter, or just enjoying Kenny's victories. He was currently one of the leading money winners on the tour, despite the fact that he'd grown increasingly selective about which tournaments he played in because he didn't want to be separated from her.

And that was one of the best things about her subst.i.tute teaching job. She had the pleasure of being back in the cla.s.sroom, but she could also travel with Kenny whenever she wanted. She planned to continue her scholarly writing when she was home with the baby, and she was also developing a series of teacher training workshops to introduce some exciting new methodology in social studies instruction. She'd presented the first workshop last week, and it had been a huge success with Wynette's middle school teachers.

"Come on, sweetheart." He brushed his thumb across the tip of her nose. "The reigning British Open champion needs to be fed."

An hour later, eight of them were gathered around the dining room table to celebrate Emma's first American Thanksgiving and enjoy the platters of food they'd all pitched in to prepare according to Patrick's orders. Peter perched in a high chair between Warren and Shelby, while Torie fed Dexter particularly juicy morsels of turkey breast from her own plate. Patrick refilled serving bowls and fretted about an overly brown crust on one of the pumpkin pies he would be serving when the Beaudine family and Skeet Cooper joined them for dessert.

"She kicked me!" Torie shrieked in midbite. "Dex! Feel!"

Dexter immediately put his hand on Torie's seven-months-pregnant belly, while Shelby rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Torie, you'd think you were the only woman on earth who ever had a baby. That's the fourth time you've made Dex feel your belly since Patrick pa.s.sed the turkey."

"I don't mind." Dexter leaned close and kissed his beautiful wife's cheek.

Torie kissed him back, then turned to Shelby. "You'd better stop complaining or I'll describe everything I'm doing to get ready for breastfeeding."

They all groaned except Dexter, who looked like a man well-pleased with himself.

Kenny smiled as he remembered his sister's wedding dinner toast to her brand-new husband.

"Here's to you, Dex. My third andfinal husband, along with being the love of my life. Do you remember that I told you I had a surprise for you today? Well, guess what, you gorgeous geek? You knocked me up!"

There'd been no living with her since then. She strutted when she walked, shoving out her pregnant belly for all the world to see and insisting that everyone, from the truckers who ate at the Roustabout to Patrick's special new friend, Raymond, feel its contours. At the dinner table, she loved nothing more than to share the intimate workings of both her digestive and excretory systems until all of them, even Emma, had begged Dexter to spank her again.

Kenny's eyes drifted to the other end of the table where his wife sat. His own pregnant wife. Her love had made him a better person than he'd ever dreamed he could be. And she finally had all those attachments she'd wanted after years of being alone.

They exchanged one of the secret smiles that stroked his soul. He'd never imagined he could love a woman the way he loved this one. She tilted her head in Torie's direction and lifted one eyebrow.

He understood immediately. They'd planned to share the news about their own baby with the family today, but Torie was having such a wonderful time strutting her stuff that Emma thought they should postpone their announcement and let her hold on to the limelight just a little longer.

He lifted his eyebrow back. Torie doesn't know how lucky she is to have a sister-in-law like you. Torie doesn't know how lucky she is to have a sister-in-law like you.

Her forehead creased. Will you be awfully disappointed if we wait another week or so? Will you be awfully disappointed if we wait another week or so?

He brushed the corner of his mouth. Maybe we should negotiate with point number six. Maybe we should negotiate with point number six.

She laughed.

"They're doing it again," Shelby grumbled. "That silent talking."

"I don't know why you're complaining," Torie said. "You and Dad do it, too."

Shelby set down her wine gla.s.s. "Which reminds me ... everybody can see how much you and Dex love each other. Why don't you two do it?"

"I try, but Dex is too literal, and he doesn't understand all the nuances."

Dex was unruffled by her criticism. "I understand the nuances. I just prefer direct communication."

Torie patted her belly and gave a cat-and-canary smile. "Yeah, well, your direct communication is pretty d.a.m.n good."

All of them laughed, and Kenny thought how lucky he was.

Not long after dinner ended, the Beaudines and Skeet arrived. Ted, who was now gainfully employed in the new company that had formed since the merger, had brought along his girlfriend, an enchanting and sublimely intelligent social worker nearly five years older than he was, which seemed about right.

Everyone insisted they were too full to eat more than a sliver of dessert, then proceeded to devour Patrick's delicious a.s.sortment of pecan and pumpkin pies. Torie got out her newest camera and shot an entire roll of film just of Peter. Then they all sprawled around the fireplace, too stuffed to do anything more than enjoy each other's company.

"Guess what the hot new rumor in town is," Patrick said.

Everyone turned to look at him.

"Well ..." He prolonged the suspense by readjusting a throw pillow. "According to Paulette Cot, who's apparently been the head secretary at Wynette High School for years ..."

"Since the early sixties," Dallie said.

"Anyway ..." Patrick fussed with the pillow fringe. "According to Ms. Cot, a certain Kenneth Traveler's permanent record seems to have permanently disappeared."

"No kidding?"

"How'd that happen?"

"Is she sure?"

"That's weird."

There was a long silence. And then every one of them turned toward Emma.

Kenny nearly laughed aloud as she made a great business out of adjusting her necklace. His own public defender. It was embarra.s.sing ... but wonderful, too.

"I don't know why you're all looking at me." She actually managed to purse her lips, the very picture of offended dignity. "As if I'd do such a thing."

"You'd do it, all right." Torie laughed. "And I've got twenty bucks says you'll figure out how to get your hands on Kenny's checkered college records by this time next year."

Not a single person at the table would take her bet.

Much later, when the guests had left and the house was once again theirs alone, they headed for bed, arms around each other. But they weren't even halfway up the stairs when Kenny stopped to gaze down at his wife. "I want something from you, Lady E. No questions. No arguments."

"Oh, dear ... that sounds dangerous."

"It's definitely dangerous, but I want you to agree anyway."

She regarded him warily.

He smiled. "I just want you to love me. Like you do right now. But for the rest of our lives."

Her eyes shone. And he knew right then-straight to the bottom of his heart-that his bossy little head mistress would do exactly as he asked.