Call Me Irresistible (35 page)

“I believe in doing what’s right.”

That was encouraging. She amped it up a little. “I know you’ll say all the environmental awards you’re sure to win aren’t what’s most important, but you deserve every bit of the recognition that’s coming to you.”

She thought she’d gone too far, but she’d once again underestimated his bottomless ego. “Somebody has to set the new standard,” he said, echoing words she’d heard from Ted.

She pressed a little harder. “Don’t forget to hire a photographer to take photos of the landfill the way it is now. I’m not a journalist, but I’m guessing the various award committees are going to want really good before and after pictures.”

“Now don’t be putting the cart ahead of the horse, Miz Meg. I haven’t signed anything yet.”

She hadn’t really expected him to reveal his final decision to her, but she’d hoped. A hawk soared overhead, and Spence started making noises about a romantic dinner at one of the local vineyards. If she had to eat with him, she wanted to do it someplace where she’d have lots of company, so she insisted that only the Roustabout’s barbecue could satisfy her appetite.

Sure enough, they’d barely been seated before reinforcements began to arrive. Dallie sauntered in first, followed by Shelby Traveler, who hadn’t even taken time to put on her mascara. Kayla’s father, Bruce, still wearing his workout shorts, rushed in next, darting dirty looks at Meg while he ordered. They had no intention of leaving her alone with Spence, and by nine o’clock, their group occupied three tables, with Ted and Sunny noticeably missing.

Meg had taken a shower in the locker room before they’d left the club and changed into her spare outfit: an unimpressive funnel-neck gray top, swirly skirt, and sandals, but dressing down didn’t discourage Spence, who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He took advantage of any excuse to press against her. He ran his finger over her wrist, readjusted the paper napkin in her lap, and brushed her breast with his arm as he reached for a bottle of Tabasco. Lady Emma did her best to distract him, but Spence had all the power, and he intended to use it to get what he wanted. Which was how she ended up standing in the parking lot under the red and blue neon roustabout sign with her phone pressed to her ear.

“Dad, I have one of your biggest fans here,” she said when her father picked up. “I know you’ve heard of Spencer Skipjack, the founder of Viceroy Industries. They make the most luxurious plumbing products. He’s basically a genius.”

Spence grinned, and his chest inflated in the neon flicker like one of Chef’s pre–car crash soufflés.

She’d pulled her father away from his ancient Smith Corona typewriter or from her mother. Either way, he wasn’t happy. “What’s this about, Meg?”

“Can you believe it?” she replied. “As busy as he is, he gave me a golf lesson today.”

His annoyance shifted to concern. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“Absolutely not. Golf is the most amazing game. But then, you know that.”

“You’d better have a good reason for this.”

“I do. Here he is.”

She shoved the phone at Spence and hoped for the best.

Spence immediately adopted an embarrassing intimacy with her father, peppering a movie critique with plumbing advice, offering the use of his private jet, and telling Jake Koranda where he should eat in L.A. Apparently her father didn’t say anything to offend him because Spence was beaming when he finally handed her phone back.

Her father, however, wasn’t nearly as happy. “That guy’s an idiot.”

“I knew you’d be impressed. Love you.” Meg flipped her phone shut and gave Spence a thumbs-up. “My father doesn’t usually take to people so quickly.”

One look at Spence’s beaming expression told her the conversation had only intensified his fixation on her. He curled his hands around her arms and began to pull her to him just as the Roustabout’s door flew open and Torie, who’d finally realized they were missing, came flying out to the rescue. “Hurry up, you two. Kenny just ordered three of every dessert on the menu.”

Spence didn’t take his predatory eyes off Meg. “Meg and I have other plans.”

“The molten lava cake?” Meg cried.

“And the spicy peach cobbler!” Torie exclaimed.

They managed to get Spence back inside, but Meg was sick of being held hostage. Fortunately, she’d insisted on driving herself, and after four bites of lava cake, she got up from the table. “It’s been a long day, and I have to work tomorrow.”

Dallie was immediately on his feet. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

Kenny shoved a beer at Spence, stopping him before he could follow. “I sure could use some business advice, Spence, and I can’t think of a better man to turn to.”

She made her escape.

Yesterday when she’d come out of work, she’d discovered that the Rustmobile’s broken windshield had been replaced with a new one. Ted denied having done it, but she knew he was responsible. So far, nothing else of hers had been vandalized, but it wasn’t over. Whoever hated her wouldn’t give up, not as long as she stayed in Wynette.

When she got to the house, she found Skeet asleep in the recliner. She tiptoed past him into her bedroom. As she kicked off her sandals, the window slid open and Ted’s lanky body squeezed through. Little eddies of pleasure swirled inside her. She cocked her head. “I’m sure glad we’re not sneaking around anymore.”

“I didn’t want to talk to Skeet, and not even you can make me mad tonight.”

“Sunny finally put out?”

“Even better.” He grinned. “The announcement’s coming tomorrow. Spence picked Wynette.”

She smiled. “Congratulations, Mr. Mayor.” She started to hug him, then pulled back. “You do know you’re making a deal with the devil.”

“Spence’s ego is his weakness. As long as we control that, we control the man.”

“Ruthless, but true,” she said. “I still can’t believe all those women kept their mouths shut.”

“About what?”

“Your temporary lapse of sanity at your mother’s luncheon. Twenty women! Twenty-one if we count Mummy.”

But he had something more pressing on his mind. “I have a P.R. firm standing by. The minute the ink’s dry on the land contract, a press release is going out crowning Spence the leader of golf’s green movement. I’m going to make sure he’s in too deep right from the beginning to ever pull out.”

“I love it when you talk dirty.”

Even as she teased him, an uneasiness came over her, a feeling that she was missing something, but she forgot about it as she began pulling at his clothes. He cooperated beautifully, and they were soon naked on her bed, the breeze from the open window falling across their skin.

This time she wasn’t going to let him take over. “Close your eyes,” she whispered. “Tight.”

He did as she asked, and she nuzzled her way to a small, taut nipple. She dawdled there for a while, then slipped her hand between his thighs. She kissed him, cupped him, stroked.

His eyelids inched open, lids heavy. He reached for her, but she slid on top of him before he could take over. Slowly, she began guiding him into her body—a body not completely ready for such a formidable invasion. But the reluctant stretch and ache excited her.

Now his eyes were fully open. She began to pull herself down hard upon him only to feel his hands gripping her thighs, holding her back. His brow furrowed. She didn’t want to see concern there. She wanted ravishment.

But he was too much the gentleman.

He arched his back and settled his mouth over her breast. The movement raised his thighs and lifted her off him. “Not so fast,” he whispered against her moist nipple.

Yes,
fast
! she wanted to cry out. Fast and awkward and crazy and passionate.

But he’d felt her tightness, and he was having none of it. He wouldn’t let her endure even a moment’s discomfort in pursuit of his own satisfaction. As he teased her nipple, he reached between their bodies and began to perform his magic tricks, arousing her until she was mindless. Another A-plus performance.

She recovered first and rolled out from under him. His eyes were closed, and she tried to find reassurance in the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his sweat-slicked skin. But despite his rumpled hair and the slight puffiness she’d inflicted on his bottom lip, she couldn’t make herself believe she’d really touched him, not in any lasting way. Only the memory of that reckless public kiss told her she wasn’t being a fool.

The town erupted with the news that Spence had chosen Wynette. For the next three days, people hugged each other on the street, the Roustabout poured free beers, and the barbershop blasted out old Queen anthems from an ancient boom box. Ted couldn’t go anywhere without men pounding him on the back and women hurling themselves at him, not that they didn’t do that anyway. The good news even eclipsed Kayla’s announcement that the contest bidding had reached twelve thousand dollars.

Meg barely saw him. He was either on the phone with Spence’s lawyers, who were due to fly in any day to finalize the contracts, or he was involved in Operation Avoid Sunny. She missed him dreadfully, right along with their less-than-satisfactory sex life.

She was doing her own avoidance dance with Spence. Fortunately, the local citizens had joined the effort to keep him away from her. Still, the uneasiness she’d been carrying around for days wouldn’t go away.

On Sunday after work she made a detour to the swimming hole to cool off. She’d developed a deep affection for both the creek and the Pedernales River that fed it. Although she’d seen photos of the way a sudden rainstorm could transform the river into a raging corridor of destruction, the water had always been gentle with her.

Cypress and ash grew near the creek’s bank, and she sometimes caught sight of a whitetail deer or an armadillo. Once a coyote came out from behind some buttonbush and looked as startled to see her as she was to see it. But today the cool waters failed to work their magic. She couldn’t get past the disquieting notion that she was missing something important. It dangled in front of her, a piece of fruit she couldn’t quite reach.

A cloud rolled in, and a scrub jay scolded her from the branch of a nearby hackberry tree. She shook the water from her hair and dove under again. When she came up, she wasn’t alone.

Spence loomed above her on the riverbank, the clothes she’d abandoned hanging from his big hands. “You shouldn’t go swimming by yourself, Miz Meg. It’s not safe.”

Her toes dug into the mud, and water lapped at her shoulders. He must have followed her here, but she’d been too preoccupied to notice. A stupid mistake that someone with so many enemies should never have made. The sight of him holding her clothes made her stomach knot. “No offense, Spence, but I’m not in the mood for company.”

“Maybe I’m tired of waiting for you to be ready.” Still holding her clothes, he sat on a big rock by the river’s edge next to the towel she’d left there and studied her. He was dressed for business in navy pants and a long-sleeved blue oxford dress shirt he’d begun to sweat through. “It seems every time I start to have a serious conversation with you, you manage to slip away.”

She was naked except for a sodden pair of panties, and as much as she might like to think of Spence as a buffoon, he wasn’t. A cloud skittered over the sun. She clenched her fists under the water. “I’m a happy-go-lucky person. I don’t like serious conversations.”

“Comes a time when everybody has to get serious.”

The way he slid her bra through his fingers gave her chills, and she didn’t like being frightened. “Go away, Spence. You weren’t invited.”

“Either you come out or I’m coming in.”

“I’m staying where I am. I don’t like this, and I want you to leave.”

“That water looks damned inviting.” He set her clothes next to him on the rock. “Did I ever tell you I swam competitively in college?” He began taking off his shoes. “I even thought about training for the Olympics, but I had too much else going on.”

She sank deeper into the water. “If you’re seriously interested in me, Spence, you’re going about this the wrong way.”

He pulled off his socks. “I should have been up front with you earlier, but Sunny says I can be too blunt. My mind works faster than most people’s. She says I don’t always give people enough time to get to know me.”

“She’s right. You should listen to your daughter.”

“Cut the bull, Meg. You’ve had plenty of time.” His fingers worked at the buttons of his blue oxford dress shirt. “You think all I want is a roll in the hay. I want more than that, but you won’t stay still long enough to hear me out.”

“I apologize. I’ll meet you in town for dinner, and you can say whatever you want to.”

“We need privacy for this discussion, and we won’t have that in town.” He unfastened his cuffs. “The two of us have a future together. Maybe not marriage, but a future. Being together. I knew that the first time I met you.”

“We don’t have a future. Be real. You’re only attracted to me because of my father. You don’t even know me. You just think you do.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” He took off his shirt revealing a gruesomely hairy chest. “I’ve been around longer than you have, and I understand human nature a lot better.” He stood. “Look at you. Driving a fucking drink cart at a third-rate public course that calls itself a country club. Some women do just fine on their own, but you’re not one of them. You need someone picking up the check.”