Lady Be Good (13 page)

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Authors: Nancy Martin

BOOK: Lady Be Good
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Luke misinterpreted her silence. “If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll take you to Nora’s place, no problem. But I’d like you to stay.”

She turned and walked into his arms. Stretching upwards, she brushed a kiss across his lips. “I want to stay. I’ll call Nora and cancel our girls’ night.”

Luke smiled, pleased. Then he kissed her long and deliciously before turning Grace loose to explore.

The suite had its own sitting room, an alcove with a billiards table, and a dining room with a massive display of fresh fruit and fragrant flowers. Within a few minutes came a discreet knock at the door. When Luke opened it, a dignified hotel employee stood outside—complete with uniform and a silver tray with coffee cups and a silver pot. “May I come in?”

He introduced himself as Emmanuel, their private butler. “We usually serve coffee at this hour, sir, but I could bring tea or perhaps cocktails. What would you prefer?”

Luke asked for a beer. Grace she’d love a pot of tea. The butler gave a little bow and promised to return shortly.

Exploring, Grace found her luggage already in the pastel bedroom with the canopied bed draped in silk. The bathroom included a whirlpool bath, a bidet, and a vase of white roses that smelled heavenly. Across the hall, Luke’s duffel bag sat on a king-size bed big enough for a harem.

Emmanuel returned pushing a cart laden with savory hors d’oeuvres including a plate of oysters and a gently melting brie slathered with nuts and drizzled with pomegranate juice. He poured Grace’s cup of tea and Luke’s beer, then lit candles around the room, conferred with Luke about the room’s electronics, and finally crossed to open the silky curtains to show the dazzling city lights below.

He said he could arrange a couple’s massage, a private yoga session, or dinner for two, if they wanted.

“Thanks, Manny,” Luke said. “We’ll be in touch.

When the butler left for the adjoining service kitchen, Grace said, “We should have tipped.”

“I already took care of him.”

Grace stripped off her jacket and sank into the sofa. She kicked off her shoes. “This place more than makes up for bad book sales.”

Luke was taking a look out the window. “Nice, right?”

“Very right. Thank you for being so thoughtful.” She relaxed and smiled up at him from the luxury of plush cushions. “If you were down here, I’d be kissing you right now.”

Immediately, Luke headed for the sofa. Grace wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down. She pressed a few soft kisses on his mouth before he took control of the situation. With one hand expertly placed on the small of her back, he leaned back into the pillows and pulled Grace on top of him until she found herself completely entwined with the man. Kissing him was delightful—gentle, yet erotic. It was exciting to get to know him in a physical way. She could feel her heart pounding. His breath was quick, too.

He could have taken her into the bedroom right then, and she would have gone. But he was in no rush. She realized he was going to make her long for it.

“Hungry?” she whispered when they drew apart at last and gazed deeply into each other’s eyes.

“Not for food,” he murmured.

“Unfortunately, I’m starving.”

He made a funny noise of exasperation and set her upright on the sofa. Grace drank her tea and nibbled from the tray while Luke clicked on a sports headline channel, no sound, and they sat together, enjoying the comfort.

In no time, though, Grace felt herself getting sleepy. The stress of the day overwhelmed her, and she zonked out there on the sofa.

She woke from her nap an hour later, snuggled close, her head on Luke’s chest, one hand resting perhaps too intimately on his lap. She sat up and pushed her hair back, yawning. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea I was so exhausted.”

“Busy day,” he said with a smile, touching her face. He had brought up the sound on the sports channel while she slept, but now he shut off the set. “You okay? What do you say we go out? Get some dinner? Go see my friend at his club? I’d like you to meet him and some of the guys.”

Grace remembered he had an invitation from the nightclub owner. She was curious to meet his friends. “Am I dressed okay?”

He tossed down the remote and gave her slacks and shirt a noncommittal glance. “If you’re headed to a garden club meeting, you look great. But … got anything short and slinky?”

“I don’t do slinky,” Grace said.

“You could rock slinky,” Luke shot back with a grin.

“Let me see what I can pull together.”

In her room, Grace fervently wished Nora could appear in a puff of smoke like a fashion-consulting genie. Grace stripped off her clothes and took a fast shower. Wearing the hotel bathrobe, she began rooting through her suitcase full of book tour clothes. She found a short black skirt that Nora insisted she buy, and a silver belt that had seen Grace through many a fashion crisis. With growing anxiety, she realized she had nothing to go with them—not for an evening of clubbing with rich football players and their slinky female companions.

In desperation, she phoned the butler in the service kitchen from the phone on her night table.

Emmanuel appeared in her room in minutes, using a narrow service hallway that allowed him to slip in and out without Luke being the wiser. “Yes, miss?”

They had a short consultation, and he seemed unfazed about the wardrobe challenge she presented. Assuring her he had helped many guests in similar situations, he went down to the boutique in the lobby with her credit card in hand.

While he was gone, Luke knocked on her bedroom door as Grace stood at the bathroom mirror, re-applying her makeup.

“Everything okay?” he called.

“Getting there,” she said, mascara wand in hand.

“I’m going to take a shower.”

“I’ll be ready by the time you are.”

She listened to the water run in the bathroom across the hall and couldn’t help imagining what Luke might look like wearing nothing but steam.

Before her thoughts got too hot, Emmanuel returned with a selection of items on hangers from the boutique.

“You have many talents, Emmanuel,” Grace told him when he presented each of his suggestions for the evening. “Thank you.”

She chose the off-the-shoulder beaded sweater and decided to keep the sleeveless black lace tank, too. She had a feeling Luke would approve both. She found her wallet and handed Emmanuel a generous tip.

“No, miss. The gentleman has already--”

“This is between you and me,” she said with a smile. “Thank you for being discreet.”

“My pleasure, miss.”

Dressed, she made a call to Nora, who didn’t answer. Grace left a message. “I’m taking your advice and staying with Luke tonight. Hope that’s okay with you, Nora. Call me if you have news about Emma, though, okay?”

She was in the suite’s living room putting on her shoes when Luke came out wearing a button-down shirt, trousers, and loafers. Simple clothes, but good quality. He didn’t need anything else to look gorgeous.

“Wow,” he said when he caught sight of her in the mostly-new outfit. “Maybe we should stay in after all.”

He touched her bare shoulder appreciatively and then slid his hand down her back to pull her close. He nuzzled his nose into her hair and pressed a kiss to her throat that sent sizzles to warmer places. More promise of good things to come later, Grace thought.

“You said something about a night on the town,” Grace said, barely holding back a sigh. “So let’s get going.”

The smiling butler appeared and reported to Luke that he’d successfully made them a dinner reservation, and he had a cab waiting.

Dinner turned out to be Spanish tapas in an intimate restaurant with a guitarist playing softly in a corner. Grace and Luke shared many small plates and a bottle of wine. Luke was an adventurous eater, she discovered—maybe not sophisticated, but willing to try anything. They talked food and travel, mostly. Luke had visited every major American city with an NFL team, and he knew all the hotspots. He had a tall tale to tell about each place. He liked the music in Nashville best. The food in New Orleans. The nightlife in New York

She asked him about his basketball tournament, and Luke admitted that his brother Mark had been wounded in Afghanistan and was now in a wheelchair. Grace listened with equal parts shock and sympathy.

“Basketball had always been Mark’s sport,” Luke said. “He was pretty down about not being able to play anymore, but while he was recovering at a military base in Texas he found a group that plays wheelchair basketball. I went down to visit him and got interested.” He shrugged, making light of his efforts. “I started helping out. One thing led to another, and pretty soon I had a tournament on my hands.”

Grace was sure it wasn’t that simple, but she liked the way his eyes glowed when he talked about his brother. It was very different from the way he’d looked when he told her about his troubled young sister Savannah. Mark might be in a wheelchair, but his life was on an upswing. Savannah, not so much. Again, Grace was reminded that Luke had packed a lot of experience into his young life.

She might have lingered over a shared dessert to learn more about the rest of his family, but Luke checked his watch. “C’mon, let’s get moving.”

Darrell Washington’s club was on the second floor of a warehouse overlooking the Delaware River. The interior had been decorated to resemble Pompeii, with fallen columns, painted murals of what might have been orgies, and lighting that imitated nightfall in Italy. The VIP entrance opened into a bar that led to another bar that led to the innermost of inner sanctums, Darrell’s private party room. It was about the size of a high school gymnasium and was already crowded with at least a hundred of Darrell’s closest friends.

The music was deafening. A hip DJ worked a turntable from a raised platform. Expensive champagne and vodka bottles stood on every table. The dance floor writhed with perfectly toned bodies in the latest fashions. The rest of the guests were clustered at tables or lounged on sofas.

Luke pulled Grace by the hand through the throng.

At the bar, their host stood like royalty, greeting his subjects. He spoke to his guests while moving gently with the music, a drink in one hand. Darrell had a short hairstyle with sharply cut designs shaved into the sides. A Maori tattoo showed on his muscled neck, outdone only by the size of the single, dazzling diamond in one ear. He kept his arm around a tall, beautiful woman in a purple skirt slashed to show considerable skin. She had dramatic Cleopatra eyes and wore her hair in elaborate braids. Her short, silver satin top showed off splendid ab muscles and ripped biceps. Her face lit up when she saw Luke.

“Laser!” she cried and threw herself into his arms. He spun her around and let her kiss him on the mouth.

When she peeled herself away, Darrell grinned and grabbed Luke’s hand to shake. He pulled Luke close, and they pounded each other on the back. A man hug. Darrell released Luke and nodded at his companion. “Jaydonna’s always been hot for you, man.”

Luke grabbed Grace’s hand and pulled her closer. He nearly had to shout to make himself heard over the music. “Darrell, Jaydonna, this is Grace Vanderbine. Grace, Darrell and I have known each other a long time. He makes great barbecue, so he’ll always have something to fall back on. Jaydonna’s his wife. She used to play tennis on the circuit.”

Grace had recognized Jaydonna immediately. She had played professional tennis up until a few years ago. Her face had graced many a magazine cover—fashion, as well as sports.

“Welcome, Grace.” Jaydonna gave Grace a friendly wink and a smile, making no remark about her tennis career. “Laser, have you learned to dance yet?”

“I always knew how to dance,” Luke protested.

“Show me,” she said, and pulled him into the crowd.

As their respective partners disappeared, Darrell gave Grace a kiss on the cheek. “How about a drink, Gracie? Let’s make you happy.”

“Whatever you’re having,” Grace said. “You look happy already.”

“Always.” Darrell laughed and signaled the bartender, who put a glass of something yellow in front of Grace. She took a sip and discovered it was ice water with lemon slices packed into the tall glass.

Maybe she’d assumed there would be heavy drinking and recreational drugs on the premises. But she saw no signs of either. Grace realized Luke probably preferred Darrell’s company because he kept his parties clean.

Beside her, Darrell was almost as tall as Luke, but heavier with muscle. She guessed he was not retired, but still playing professionally. Tonight he was beautifully groomed and wearing a white open-necked shirt with dark slacks and sandals—despite the weather outside--that showed off a toe ring. He gave Grace a thorough examination, too, and ended up putting his arm loosely around her so that his hand cupped her hip. She tried to accept his touch as if she experienced that kind of thing all the time.

“How do you know Luke?” he asked her, mouth against her ear to make himself heard over the loud music.

Grace guessed the physical familiarity was part of the culture among professional athletes. Their bodies were perfect, and they liked using them. All the other guests seemed to touch and embrace and caress as a part of conversation. She caught a glimpse of Luke and Jaydonna on the dance floor. Jaydonna was grinding against Luke, and he seemed to be enjoying it. A moment later, other dancers closed around the pair, and Grace lost sight of them.

Grace told Darrell she had just met Luke, and he nodded.

“He treating you right? Where you staying? You want to come stay with us? We got a house in the back. Bedroom ceiling has mirrors. Sometimes Jaydonna and me take another honeymoon out there.”

Darrell seemed to assume that although they had just become acquainted, Grace and Luke were already enjoying a sexual relationship. Grace couldn’t help thinking how her mother would handle such news. But she answered Darrell honestly. “Thank you, but we’re perfectly comfortable where we are.” Grace told him the name of their hotel.

Darrell nodded approvingly. “That country boy has learned a few things.”

Darrell still gently moved with the music. He lifted his chin in greeting to some of his guests and let his gaze roam across the dance floor. He smiled when he caught sight of his wife having a good time.

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