Wicked & Willing: Bad Girls (9 page)

No. They wouldn’t be talking. They’d be all over each other. She wasn’t fool enough to try denying it even to herself.

“We’d be….”

“Yeah,” he said with complete certainty. “We would.”

She nervously licked her lips, wincing slightly as she touched her tongue to a tender, swollen spot. He leaned closer, close enough that she could feel his breath on the side of her face. Then he gently touched his mouth to hers, delicately licking the sore spot.

“You’re gonna have a fat lip,” he murmured as he teased her with incredibly light touches of his tongue.

She moaned deep in her throat. “Are you kissing it to make it better?” She shifted on the bed to face him more fully.

“Uh-huh. Is it helping?”

No. Not helping. He might be making her mouth feel better, but other body parts were beginning to feel distinctly uncomfortable. Needy. Hot. “I might have bumped myself in one or two other places, too.”

He laughed softly. “I’d love to kiss all of those places and make them feel better, Venus.” Then, he reluctantly pulled away. “But I guess I should get out of here. Because if I start, I’m not going to be able to stop.”

For the rest of the day? Or forever? He pulled away before she could ask him to clarify.

Finally, in a shaky voice, she said, “Okay, size ten. Twelve if it’s cut narrow in the hips and bust.”

He smiled slowly as he rose to leave the room. “I’ll see you tonight, Venus.”

A
S HE DROVE
through downtown traffic on the way to the office, Troy dialed his brother’s home number on his cell phone. Trent would probably be long gone, of course. No
doubt he’d been up with the sun, out digging holes in the dirt, planting trees and mucking around in fertilizer.
Lovely
.

He’d often wondered where Trent got that earthy streak, Not that Troy disliked being outdoors. As a matter of fact, so far the one thing he hated about life in Atlanta was losing out on his mornings on the beach. In Florida he’d started every day with a run, watching the sunrise, enjoying those quiet, silent moments, disturbed only by the never-ending churning of the surf and the lonely calls of gulls and osprey. Here, he had to run down winding roads in the elite community where Max lived. Still beautiful scenery, if he counted mansions and BMW’s. But not the same, not at all.

When his sister-in-law answered, he couldn’t help flirting. She’d expect nothing less. “Hey beautiful, ready to leave that dog-faced gardener you’re married to yet?”

She sighed. “What can I say? I’ve grown rather attached to those rough, calloused hands, even if he’s not much to look at.”

“How’s my niece or nephew?”

“No longer making me throw up every morning, at least,” Chloe responded. “This is awfully early for a social call.”

He quickly explained what he wanted her to do. Since Chloe now worked full-time in management at the store, having finished up her education last year shortly after she and Trent had married, she was the perfect person to ask. “And don’t say anything to anyone else, please. Just charge it to my account.”

“Are you going to tell me why you need this stuff? Or should I use my imagination?”

“Let’s say I’m helping a friend prepare for an elegant dinner for Max tomorrow night.”

She snorted. “Tell me you’re not bringing a hooker to your boss’s dinner.”

He grinned, wondering what Venus would say to being called a hooker. Considering she was one of the least judgmental people he’d ever met, he doubted she’d be too offended. “No, actually this person might be a long-lost member of the family.”

“Oh? As in long-lost distant cousin or something?”

“No. Possibly Max’s granddaughter.”

Chloe whistled, then zoned in on the key issue. “Max’s granddaughter? Someone who could interfere with the merger?”

“You’re too quick,” he said as he cut down a side street to the parking lot of his building. “I think I liked you better when you were dressing windows.”

“Even when you starred in them?” she quipped, referring to the display windows she’d done at Langtree’s last summer, when she and Trent had met and she’d mistaken him for Troy. She’d been pretty obvious about her feelings, and the displays had reflected that.

A lifelong habit of intentionally trying to get under his more emotional brother’s skin had made Troy intentionally pretend an interest in her, even though she’d really wanted Trent from the start. “Look, don’t worry about it, Chloe. Max is still planning on going ahead with the deal. Venus is…a distraction, that’s all. Even if she does turn out to be Max’s granddaughter, I don’t think she’d want any part of Longotti Lines.”

He spoke the truth. He honestly didn’t picture Venus having any desire to pick up and move to Atlanta to run her grandfather’s company. She’d know better than anyone that she had no experience, no qualifications, and would be better off if Max sold out. The sale would bring a whole lot more cash into the family, which would no
doubt seem beneficial to someone who might prove to be his main heir.

“Venus?” his sister-in-law asked doubtfully.

“I’m pulling into the parking lot right now. I’ll talk to you later,” he said, cutting the connection. He did not want to try to explain Venus to his sister-in-law. He didn’t think he could do her justice, though he imagined Chloe would just love hearing about a woman who’d called him a snot to his face.

Venus was the kind of woman who had to be met in person to be appreciated. No way could he describe the way her aggressive attitude and smart-ass personality hid a vulnerable woman underneath. He shouldn’t be so sure of that, not after such a short relationship, but he was. As much as she’d hate to admit it, Venus could be very easily hurt.

It would also be impossible for him to talk about her to Chloe without revealing some of the crazy feelings he had for the woman. Lust, well, that was a given. He’d been hot for Venus the moment he set eyes on her.

But he also liked her. He liked the way her brilliant green eyes glittered when she was angry. Liked the way she didn’t back down to anyone—not him, not Max, not Leo. Liked her honest ability to talk about her own shortcomings. Liked the fond way she spoke of her foster family. He liked that she didn’t moan and groan about her situation, other than worrying about not fitting in. Liked the way she tried to act more tough when she was afraid or nervous.

Basically, he liked the way he felt when he was with her.

“Alive,” he murmured. Alive and anticipatory, never quite knowing what she was going to do next, or how he’d react to it.

He’d never in his life felt like that with another woman.

Troy somehow managed to put Venus out of his thoughts for most of the work day. Still new to his job, he had a lot of reading to do, meetings with manufacturers and a union rep. Their telemarketing contract was up for renewal and he was charged with drawing up the short list of companies. And, of course, in the back of his mind during every decision was the constant thought about the potential merger.

As he packed up to leave at the end of the day, he asked Max’s secretary if she needed him to bring anything home to the elder man. Max hadn’t come in that day—he’d been busy entertaining his house guest. After bidding the woman and some of the other office staff good-night, he paused in Leo’s doorway. The man’s office was dark and empty, as it had been all day.

Obviously Leo had taken the day off, too. One of these days, Troy really did have to find out what the man did to earn his six-figure salary. Other than hover over Max, pushing pills in his hand and taking him to doctor’s appointments.

As he exited the building and flicked the alarm button on his key chain, he glanced appraisingly at his car. The memory of Venus’s words from this morning made him chuckle. “Sorry she doesn’t like you, sweetheart.”

A woman who flat-out told him she didn’t like his car—that was a first. And almost as bad, in Troy’s opinion, as telling a man he wasn’t good in bed, or had a little…He shuddered.

Troy had certainly never been told either of those things. Uh-uh. Never in a million years. But the car comment had definitely stung, almost as much as it had amused him. Particularly because of the adorable way
she’d looked wrapped up in the silky sheets, all rumpled and warm from her bed when she’d said it. And the way she’d looked flat on her face on the floor, bare-ass naked when he’d entered her room.

“That was pretty good too,” he said with a nod as he unlocked the car.

He wondered where Max and Venus had spent their day. Last night, before the unfortunate choking incident, Max had offered to take Venus to one of the premier shopping complexes nearby. The center was filled with exclusive stores including Sak’s and Cartier, that should, ideally, make any con woman’s eyes light up with anticipation.

She’d instead told Max she preferred to visit Margaret Mitchell’s house.

He wouldn’t have pegged Venus for a big southern romance nut. Then again, maybe she saw something of herself in Scarlett O’Hara. He had the feeling Venus fancied herself a man-eater, a hard, ruthless seductress. Maybe some other people pictured her that way, too.

“Wrong.” Troy shook his head ruefully as he started the car and drove out of the parking lot.

As far as he was concerned, Venus was as ruthless as a kitten. Sure, she exuded confidence and brazen sex appeal. Yeah, she had guts. Certainly she’d done something most women wouldn’t have had the nerve to do…dropping that towel yesterday.

He took a moment to appreciate the mental picture.

Still, underneath it all was a sensitive woman who, he believed, wouldn’t hurt anybody intentionally. How he could be so sure, he couldn’t say. Intuition? Years of experience with so many women he’d come to understand the sex? Maybe even a little wishful thinking? All of the above?

He didn’t know for sure, but he truly believed it.

Troy wasn’t fool enough to completely rule out the possibility of Venus being involved in some kind of scheme with Leo Gallagher. But he would bet that if it came down to actually hurting somebody, she would never go through with it.

He just hoped she didn’t prove him wrong.

When he arrived back at the house, he immediately looked around for Max and Venus. Following the sound of laughter into the entertainment room, as Max called it, he stopped in the doorway to look at them.

Venus and Max were sitting opposite one another over a huge coffee table, trying to bounce coins into a mug of beer. Max’s face was tight with concentration as he focused on flipping his wrist just so to get the quarter to land in the mug. “Ah-ha!” the man cried when he was successful.

“See?” Venus said with a triumphant grin. “It’s all in the angle of your fingers.”

“Drink,” Max ordered.

Shaking his head ruefully, Troy entered the room. “I haven’t played quarters since my frat house days.”

Venus glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Oh, do they play such low drinking games at the University for the Uptight and Pretentious?”

Max snickered.

“Nice to see you too,” Troy replied. “Have a good time on your shopping trip?” He cast a long, studying glance over her tight jeans and tank top. “I see you didn’t shop for clothes.”

She stood and struck a provocative pose, fisting her hand and putting it on one jean-clad hip. The jeans fit her like a second skin, drawing attention to her long, slim legs and the curve of her rear. The cotton top was also
wickedly tight and was low cut enough for him to see the tops of her lush breasts and a tempting hint of cleavage. “You don’t like my clothes, Troy? Aww, that hurts my feelings.”

As she intended, her exaggerated pout looked sultry and inviting, reminding him of the way they’d kissed. He swallowed, trying not to let her see how she so easily affected him. The look of triumph in her eyes told him he’d failed. This was definitely not a woman to whom he wanted to give the upper hand. She was quite used to walking all over men—but, Troy wasn’t like most other men. He’d done some walking of his own.

“We didn’t go shopping,” Max explained, the twinkle in his eye negating his grudging tone. “Venus dragged me to that writer’s house, then we went to have lunch at a terribly touristy restaurant called Melissa’s Tap Room.”

“‘That writer,”’ Venus muttered in disgust. “And it was
Melanie’s
Tea Room.” She turned to Troy. “Can you believe this man has lived in Atlanta for seventy years and has never seen or read
Gone With The Wind?
”

“Sacrilege,” Troy mumbled as he loosened his tie.

Venus nodded, not acknowledging his sarcasm. “I mean, imagine, living in Atlanta where it all took place—while you were living here—and not seeing it!”

Max tilted his head and raised a brow, obviously trying to look insulted. “I know you told me this morning I’m…how did you put it? Older than dirt? But I must say I’m offended you think I’m old enough to have been around for the war between the states.”

She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean the actual war. I meant the movie release, the big premiere, all that stuff.”

“Older than dirt?” Troy asked, again amazed at the easy camaraderie between the pair.

Venus grimaced. “The man has Liberace CDs in his car.”

“Oh, that certainly explains it,” Troy said. “Two strikes, Max. Liberace and a
Gone With The Wind
virgin.”

“But not for long,” Venus replied with a Cheshire cat smile as she sat back down.

Almost afraid to ask, Troy glanced at Max. The older man let out an exaggerated sigh. “We stopped and bought a copy.”

“We waited to order the pizza until you got here.”

“Pizza?” Troy asked, hearing her merriment.

Venus grinned. “If Max is going to drag me into his club tomorrow night and a fancy party Friday, he can do something I want to do tonight.”

Pizza, beer and a video. Sounded good to Troy, especially after his long day, though he would never have chosen the mother of all chick flicks. “All right, do I have time to change?”

She nodded. “Grab a box of tissues before you come back.” She told Max, “This is a real tearjerker, with a killer ending.”