Let's Misbehave (15 page)

Chapter Fourteen

The Red Witch was just down the block from their house, which meant Gigi only had to worry about being accosted by paparazzi for two hundred meters. She’d been safe for the past couple months, but given all the recent attention she didn’t want to take a chance: she shrouded herself in black.

She was halfway there when she heard someone call “Gigi!” behind her.

So few people called her Gigi. She stopped in her tracks. The voice sounded an awful lot like—

Turning around, she watched Dirk jog toward her, wearing his usual happy-go-lucky grin.

For a moment she felt a pang of sadness. He’d been sweet when they’d been together. Who knew he’d been hiding razor blades in the confectioner’s sugar? Because only a truly heinous person would sell nude pictures of his lover to the tabloids.

She lifted her head and whirled around, continuing on her way.

He fell into step next to her. “Gigi, it’s so good seeing you.”

“This is a bad idea.” She quickened her steps. “You’re taking your life in your hands right now.”

Dirk leaned forward in her field of vision, apparently oblivious of her anger. He was pretty, but he wasn’t very bright. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you, but your number’s changed.”

Because after the world saw her naked all over the Internet, every Tom, Dick, and Harry had tried to call her. But she didn’t need to explain herself to Dirk. She had the Red Witch in sight.

“Gigi, I’ve been reconsidering our relationship.” He tried to take her hand.

“We don’t have a relationship,” she said, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

“You know I love you.”

She stopped, anger flushing her whole body. “You don’t sell photos of someone you love to the tabloids.”

“You aren’t going to believe me, but I didn’t sell those pictures.” When she said nothing, he threw his hands in the air. “I swear! It was my manager.”

“How does your manager know what sort of pictures you have on your phone?”

“I may have shown him.”

Of course he did. Shaking her head, she began to walk again. Maybe if she ignored him, he’d go away.

“Gigi, wait.” Dirk grabbed her arm. “I know I screwed up—”

“You didn’t just screw up. You sold me out.” She yanked her arm from his hold and hit him on the shoulder. “You exposed private things about me to the whole world,
for your own personal gain
. How do you think that feels?”

“Sucky,” he said sadly, with simple but unerring accuracy.

Wonderful—he was remorseful. But that didn’t change anything. She hurried toward the pub’s door. “Go away, Dirk. We’re done.”

“Is it because of the new guy you’re seeing?”

She froze and then whirled around. “What?”

“The new guy in the rags.” He walked up to her and took her hand again. “I just want to know if I still have a chance.”

“Are you serious?” She gaped when she saw that he was. “Why would I give you another chance?”

“Because I love you.”

She laughed, hearing the bitterness in her own voice. “You love me so much you had to put the video we took of us, of a private moment between us, on YouTube. Yes, that’s love, indeed.”

Dirk had the grace to flush. “I told you, I didn’t—”

“Did you show it to your manager?”

His silence was telling.

“I thought so.” She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself. “Go away, Dirk. If you enter, I can’t guarantee that my sisters won’t rip you to pieces.”

He frowned at the door, obviously torn. But he took a step back. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“No, you won’t,” she said as she walked in. She walked straight back to their table, yanking her scarf from her neck.

She didn’t realize how livid she felt until Bea turned to Viola, Portia, and Summer and said, “If she starts to say ‘Say hello to my little friend,’ duck.”

Frowning, Gigi slipped out of her coat. “I look that incensed?”

“Yes,” they all replied at once.

“I feel it.” She turned on her heels and strode to the bar. Signaling Niamh over, she said, “My usual, plus a shot of vodka while I wait.”

Niamh raised her eyebrows but poured her shot without a word. She set it in front of Gigi and then began to make her martini.

Gigi downed the shot with a shudder and then pulled out her mobile. Very deliberately, she sent a text to Merrick.
I want to see you.

He replied before she had her martini.
I’ll pick you up. One hour. Let me know where.

“Here you go.” Niamh slid the martini glass across the bar. “I hope this helps.”

“I’m already better, thanks.” Smiling, she texted him the pub’s name and walked back to her sisters.

Bea watched her. All her sisters were astute, but Bea tended to act like a mother hen. Since Gigi’s feathers were a bit ruffled right now, so were Bea’s.

Gigi smiled at her. “I’m fine. Really.”

Her oldest sister raised her brows. “In like a lion, out like a lamb.”

“I have no idea what that means,” Gigi said as she sat next to Viola and gave her a hug.

Summer cleared her throat. “I think she means you stormed in here with a vengeance and now you seem docile.”

“Who did you text?” Bea asked.

“A friend.” She hid her satisfied smile behind her martini glass.

“The same one you’ve been sneaking out to see?” Portia asked.

Gigi kicked her sister under the table.

“Ow.” Leaning over to rub her shin, Portia scowled at her. “That wasn’t necessary.”

“Yes, it was.”

“What’s his name?” Viola asked.

“Is that important?”

Bea nodded. “If he puts a smile like that on your face, yes. Have you vetted him?”

“Do you mean have I checked his Calvin Kleins to see if he’s worthy?” She shot them a wicked grin. “The answer is bloody hell yes.”

Viola grabbed her arm. “Does he have a brother?”

“Or cousins,” Summer said.

Bea shook her head at them all. “You’re not helping.” Then she took Gigi’s hand. “Have you thought about what I said, about Titania doing a feature on you?”

Viola blinked. “Titania’s home? Has she been by and I’ve missed it?”

“I haven’t met her yet,” Summer said a little sadly.

Gigi put a hand on Summer’s. “Titania is …”

“Titania,” Bea finished for her with a wry smile. “But she’d do anything for you, Gigi. Talk to her.”

She shook her head. “They want the sordid trash. The only way I could be more popular right now is if I were arrested for drugs.”

“Is that a possibility?” Viola asked. “And will you share?”

Patting her mad sister’s arm, Gigi finished her argument with, “They don’t want to see behind the curtain.”

“That’s because they don’t know what’s behind the curtain,” Bea said with conviction. “If you showed them how fascinating you are, they may find the real you more interesting than the media’s perception of who you are. For instance, does anyone know that you were accepted on full scholarship to Carnegie Mellon, for a double major in drama and chemistry?”

“That’s ancient history, darling. No one cares about that.”

“They would if they knew,” Bea insisted. “It creates a more compelling character. How many people are fluent in eight languages?”

Nine. “I’m not entirely fluent. I just read, for the most part.”

“Semantics.” Bea pointed a finger. “Call Titania and ask her for help.”

Gigi didn’t have to answer one way or the other because Rosalind walked in with stars in her eyes, her fiancé Nick in tow. “Sorry we’re late.”

“Sorry I’m crashing your girls’ night,” Nick said as he pulled up chairs for the two of them.

Portia looked around behind them. “Where’s Luca?”

“He had other plans tonight.”

Gigi felt Bea’s hand tense. She looked at her eldest sister, whose expression was overly casual. Gigi knew acting, and she recognized Bea cared where the Italian was more than she wanted to admit.

With the same casualness, Bea lifted her glass and drawled, “That’s shocking. Normally he has nothing better to do than haunt the South Street house.”

Portia glanced at Gigi, her brows raised, but they all knew better than to comment.

Gigi hadn’t planned on saying anything, but the words came out of her mouth before she could stop them. “You know who was here though? Dirk.”

The entire table stilled, and then a chorus of outcries broke out, incoherent, all on top of each other.

Oddly, it was Viola who stopped everyone from exclaiming by brushing Gigi’s hair back and asking, “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she said, actually meaning it. Being with her sisters was a balm she’d only recently discovered. “But I was upset seeing him at first. He was lucky I didn’t have a sledgehammer in my purse.”

“I don’t need a sledgehammer,” Nick said. “Say the word and Luca and I will pay him a visit.”

“What did he want?” Rosalind asked.

“A second chance.”

Bea leaned forward. “I don’t have to ask how you answered, do I?”

“Of course not.” She recoiled. “How could I trust him ever again?”

“You need someone who understands what a gift you are and cherishes it accordingly,” Vi said solemnly.

So did Vi, but Gigi didn’t think her sister was ready to hear that yet. She placed her hand over Vi’s. “Dirk is part of my sordid past,” she said as her mobile buzzed with a new message.

Rosalind grinned. “Is that your sordid future?”

“It’s my ride.” She didn’t need to tell any of them who it actually was. She downed the rest of her martini and slipped into her coat.

“Call Titania,” Bea commanded. “It’s a good idea.”

Summer nodded. “Take the offensive and get ahead of the slander. It’s a great strategy.”

“I’ll think about it,” she said as she swung her purse onto her shoulder and left the bar.

At the curb, there was a motorcycle idling. A man in jeans, boots, and a leather jacket was astride it. His dark helmet prevented anyone from knowing who it was.

Gigi knew, though. The tingle in her belly gave him away.

She glanced around to make sure no one was lurking in wait. The coast clear, she sashayed up to him, surprised by how happy she felt to see him. She filed that away to think about later. For now … She stopped in front of him, her hip cocked, hand out.

He gave her a helmet.

She put it over her head, sunglasses and all. Her bag in the crook of her arm, she gathered the hem of her skirt, hiked her leg over, and tucked the material around her legs. She wrapped her arms around Merrick, tight.

He took off.

She’d driven with Luca in his Ferrari once and had loved it. Merrick drove the same way: fast but with precision. He zipped between traffic, going fast enough that Gigi felt exhilarated but not so fast that she thought she was going to die.

She laughed, hugging him with her whole body as they leaned into a curve.

They arrived at his house all too soon. He parked his bike on the street, down a ways from the back entrance, like the other times.

Gigi eased off the back, taking the helmet off. Her hair tumbled down in a matted mess. Not that she cared. Laughing, she twirled in the street. “I feel so alive.”

His own helmet in his hand, he grabbed her to him and kissed her—hard.

She hitched her leg on his hip, rubbing herself against his hardness. “We should go inside,” she murmured against his lips.

“We should,” he agreed, his hand snaking under her skirt.

Panting, she tried to gather herself, difficult as it was with his hand travelling up her thigh. “We can’t get caught, remember?”

“It’d be bad for both of us,” he agreed as his fingers edged under her panties.

She gasped as he outlined her folds with the lightest touch. Being good was so difficult sometimes. “I’d rather you got us home and replaced your fingers with your mouth.”

“Done.” He took her hand and all but hauled her to the back entrance of his house. She waited calmly until he let them in. He motioned her in, so she sauntered ahead.

A few feet from the door, she unwrapped her scarf and dropped it.

She heard his footsteps pause, probably to pick it up. Without checking on him, she unbuttoned her coat and let that fall too.

She kicked her shoes off next, with a hand on a wall to balance. Then she pulled her top over her head and tossed it behind her.

She could feel him paying attention, avidly following. Her skirt came next, stepping out of it as she walked. On the stairs to the first floor, she dropped her bra over the railing.

As she entered his bedroom, he grabbed around her waist. He turned her around so her naked front pressed against his fully dressed one. He picked her up and took her to the bed, stripping the panties off her and lowering his mouth between her legs.

She felt his breath on her, and she looked down to see him hover right over her. “What are you waiting for?”

“Just savoring the moment. I’ve been thinking of this all day.” He trailed a finger over her before his tongue followed, so softly, right after. Then he said, “Since the other night in the janitor’s closet.”

She arched up. “Remind me to thank Valerie.”

“Don’t give her too much credit. It’ll go to her head.”

“I should lecture her about encouraging public affection. With all the media there, it was lucky no one caught us.” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have let her maneuver us into that position.”

“Why did you allow it then?”

Because she’d wanted him so badly. She frowned. “Maybe I really am a naughty girl. My father certainly thought so.”

Merrick leaned on his elbow and gazed at her. “Your father sounds like an ass.”

She smiled ruefully. “He was.”

“Then take his words at face value.” He caressed her hip. “You’re a generous, passionate woman, Imogen. Your love is an honor.”

He lowered his mouth and worshipped her with his tongue, showing her intimately how much he revered her. His tongue played against her slowly and sweetly, coaxing her along even though she’d have been willing to race breakneck.

Her climax came over her suddenly, unexpected. As the rolling wave continued, Merrick slid inside her to the hilt.

She gasped, his thrusts carrying her higher all over again. She hooked her legs around his and gripped his arms to hold on. He lowered his head and kissed her, deliciously mimicking the way he moved in and out of her body.