Last Chance Beauty Queen (28 page)

BOOK: Last Chance Beauty Queen
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“Most of them haven’t dealt with it like I have. So are you going to try to fight Daddy for his land, or take Cissy up on her offer?”

“Rocky,” he said in the gentlest voice. When he said her name, it sounded magical and powerful and feminine and a whole load of things she had never heard in it before. She didn’t want to hear anything in the way he said her name. She had pushed this conversation into the safe zone so she could avoid stuff like that. She needed to forget the fantasy. She needed to be practical and wise.

And run like hell.

Instead, she looked up into his handsome, patrician face. “What, Hugh?” she said, using his first name.

His eyes darkened. “There’s something I need to tell you. Come on.” He took her hand again and guided her to a secluded area behind the 4-H barn, where a grassy bank sloped upward toward a stand of shade trees. The little hill provided a wonderful view of the midway lights.

They tumbled down onto the ground with the cool and dew-damp grass at their backs. Caroline stacked her hands behind her head and looked up into the night sky. Out here in the country, even with the lights from the midway, the sky seemed dark and velvety. The stars incredibly bright.

“So what is it that you want to tell me? I’ve got a feeling you just wanted to get me into a compromising position,” she said.

Hugh rose up on his elbow and looked down at her, the stars silhouetting him. “Well, yes, I did. But I also need to tell you something about Cissy and her proposal.”

“You agreed to it, didn’t you?”

“No, I didn’t. And before you lecture me on being a very poor businessman, I want to tell you a story about a little girl named Elisa.”

“Hugh, what…”

He leaned down and kissed her so gently on the lips. Just one little kiss to shut her up. He accomplished his mission. “Just listen, love.

“When I was about six or so, I befriended the daughter of our chauffer. Her name was Elisa. And before you snicker at me, I know it’s pretentious to have a chauffer, and you’re quite correct. But Granddad was pretentious.

“Anyway, Elisa was like a garden sprite. She had dark hair and green eyes much like yours. She was a wild thing that loved to run in the meadows or wade barefoot in the stream. She told lovely stories about the little people. I was only six, but I loved her just the same. She was my best friend.

“I loved her father, too. He taught me about motorcars, and he let me help him keep the Bentley in good nick.”

“What happened to them?” Caroline asked, even though she had a feeling she knew the ending of this story.

“My granddad fired Mr. Henson. Not because of anything he’d done wrong in his employment, but because I had made a friend of him and Elisa. Granddad discovered me with Mr. Henson, working on the Bentley. I was covered in motor oil. Granddad said I looked like a common workman. My punishment for this transgression was to watch Mr. Henson and Elisa pack their possessions and leave the servants’ quarters. I was not allowed to cry.”

“How awful.”

“I know. I was devastated. But Granddad had made his point. Granddad had very old-fashioned notions about things, and he wanted me to know my place. He said that a deBracy was never to befriend servants, or to be familiar with them, or even to be kind to them.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Yes, well Granddad was a complete prat. And from that moment on, I was nothing but rebellious. He died when I was fourteen, and I didn’t cry at his funeral. And ever since, I’ve always gone out of my way to be kind to people. I’ve always told myself it was a way of paying back the damage Granddad did to Mr. Henson and his daughter.”

“That’s sweet.”

“Yes, well, my trusting soul has gotten me into nothing but trouble. And I’m afraid my philosophy has gotten in the way of my dealings with Cissy. I refused her offer because I couldn’t stop worrying about the people living in Last Chance. Your passion for them on Sunday struck a nerve. But the thing is, Granddad was right about some things. The guys with the kind hearts usually fail.”

Caroline reached up and gave his shoulder a little reassuring squeeze. “You’re not a failure. You’ve invented a loom that Cissy wants to get her hands on. She made you that offer because she thinks she can make money on your invention, and I’ll bet she’s going to rethink and up the ante. You should call her up tomorrow and start a negotiation. And don’t sell yourself short.”

“I have no intention of doing any such thing,” he said in that stubborn voice of his—the one she’d mistaken for arrogance a few days ago. Now she recognized it as something more like gumption. He was hanging on to his dream with both hands, wasn’t he? It was admirable.

But she couldn’t let him give up a chance like the one Cissy had offered him.

“Hugh, I mean it. You’ve got no hope of building here. You should—”

“Stop, love,” he said, his voice soft and sure, “I know all the arguments. But I want to give it a day or two. There’s no rush. Maybe working together, we can fix things here, and I won’t have to sell my technology to Cissy. And in the meantime, we can get to know each other better.”

He dipped down and slid his mouth over hers, nibbling at her lower lip until she yielded to his sultry demands. His kisses were delicious. They melted on her tongue like cotton candy, leaving nothing but sweetness behind.

She ran her hands up over his shoulders and down his back, feeling the play of firm muscles there. Meanwhile, he undid her ponytail and combed his fingers through her hair, messing it up beyond redemption and creating shivers across her scalp.

His beard rasped against her cheek, his mouth devoured. He was hard and sturdy and male in all the right places. And he knew how to kiss. Holy smokes, the guy’s kisses were more intoxicating than the drinks he mixed that night at Dot’s Spot.

She explored the contours of his body, pushing aside all her cares and worries. She forgot about the gossip in town, the job in Washington, the trouble at the chicken plant—all of it faded into the background.

He kissed down to the nape of her neck, and she melted right into him. When he finally retreated, she was breathless with yearning.

“I’ve been thinking about doing that all day,” he murmured against her ear. “I’ve been thinking about the
things we didn’t do last night. The things we wanted to do. I have a long list of those things, Rocky.”

“Me, too,” she whispered.

Hugh had no clue how long they spent snogging in the grass. He lost track of time and place. Everything narrowed down to Rocky, and her warm skin, her soft breasts, and her spicy, exotic scent.

He undid all the buttons down the front of her golf shirt. It hardly reached her amazing cleavage, but kissing the spot right below her collarbone was making all his dangly bits stand up and pay attention.

She let go of a deeply pensive sigh and said, “What are we going to do?”

He raised his head to look down at her. The midway lights twinkled in her pixie green eyes, and her hair was a wild tumble around her head, spread out against the grass. If she’d been wearing anything other than a golf shirt and shorts, he might have mistaken her for the Queen of Faerie.

He wanted this woman in ways he couldn’t quite explain. He’d told her things about himself he’d never meant to tell a soul. She knew his problems. She knew his failures and his fears. She knew all his mistakes. And she wasn’t very dazzled by his title or his background.

Being with her was so easy. It had been such a long, long time since he’d had a friend he could trust with his secrets. Elisa had been like that. And in a lot of ways, she reminded him of Elisa. They were both magical in some way he couldn’t quite fathom.

He smiled down at her and said, “I believe this is the point where you suggest that we go off into the piney
woods for an evening’s frolic with your magical friends. I will never return to the real world, of course, having been utterly ensorcelled by your beauty.”

She giggled. “Uh, wait, I don’t think I’m in the same fantasy. In mine, this is when Prince Charming sweeps me up into his manly arms and carries me off to his castle.”

“Darling, my castle is very drafty.”

“You have a castle?”

“Well, it’s more of a manor house.”

“Wow.”

“And to be honest, the woods sound ever so much more delightful and magical. Listen, the crickets have been serenading us.”

“Uh, yeah, along with the frogs. And believe me, there are other critters out there in the piney woods.”

“Are you about to bring up scary stories of snakes and alligators again?”

She giggled.

“Perhaps we should compromise.”

“Compromise is good. What did you have in mind?”

“Well, you did tell me about that place that sells rooms by the hour.”

She laughed again. “I’m not taking you to the Peach Blossom Motor Inn.” He heard the regret in her voice and desperately wanted to erase it.

“Was that a tawdry suggestion?” he asked.

She ran her hand up over his shoulders and let her fingers roam through his hair. Her touch made him shiver. He closed his eyes and let her touch him, savoring every moment.

“Love, if we don’t go to a place like that, what do you suggest?”

She didn’t say anything for the longest time.

“Blast it, Last Chance needs a decent hotel, you know that?” he muttered.

“Well, there’s the Magnolia Inn over in Allenberg. It’s not much better than the Peach Blossom, but it has the benefit of not being within spying distance of Lillian Bray and her high-powered telescope.”

He opened his eyes. “Are you saying yes to my compromising suggestion?”

“I want to, Hugh. I really do. But we need to be clear. This is a fantasy, you know? A fling. In a few days, I’m going to be moving to Washington, and you’re going to figure out that the best proposal you’ve got comes from Cissy Warren.”

He stared down into her lovely pale face. He ought to argue with her. He knew he was in far deeper than she was. He didn’t want a fling.

He wanted to find a place here, in her town, where he could be himself. And he had this feeling she could give that to him.

But he knew if he said this aloud, she’d run away like the wild thing she really was. He could see through that disguise she wore. The real Rocky let her hair down without him having to help her. The real Rocky spoke her mind and wore frothy dresses that showed off her unbelievable breasts. The real Rocky went about on bare feet.

He smiled. “Madam, I am pleased to provide any fantasy you want.”

She giggled again. “Okay. But you have to remember it’s just for one night.”

“Right, I have it. Sort of like Cinderella.”

The Magnolia Inn stood just beyond Allenberg’s town limits with a rusty sign bearing a blinking neon magnolia blossom. It was truly an awful place to play out a Cinderella fantasy.

Hugh killed the engine and gave the place the once-over. He said nothing, but Caroline could almost read his thoughts.

“I know, it’s kind of trashy, but…” Caroline started to say.

“Well, darling, I suspect it’s better than going off into your woods and getting eaten alive by mosquitoes. I must have twenty bites just from that time we spent in the grass.”

“I suppose. We grow ’em big here in South Carolina.” Her voice sounded uncertain, and Hugh turned to look at her.

The flashing neon magnolia lit up his gentle smile. “If you’re nervous and don’t want to do this, that’s fine. But I want to be with you.”

He leaned across the console and laid another scorching kiss on her that made her toes curl right up. She lost her espadrilles, and then she lost her sanity as he ran his hands through her hair.

Breathing became difficult after a few moments of this.

“Blast this console,” he said, finally pulling away. “Darling, I will procure a key. You stay here.”

The motel room gave the word “common” a whole new meaning. Caroline studied Hugh as he surveyed the room. He missed nothing, from the ersatz walnut of the TV stand to the Magic Fingers massage unit bolted to
the wall. Then his gaze fixed upon hers. “You are lovely,” he said.

What an utterly sweet thing to say at a low-rent moment like this. Caroline stood on tiptoes and kissed his mouth softly. One kiss led to another, and soon they were lost in the heat of the moment.

He found the hem of her golf shirt and pulled it over her head. She unbuttoned his shirt. Her blood heated the moment he enveloped her in his arms. The slide of skin on skin made her lose her mind. His hands got busy getting her out of her shorts and her bra and her panties. Then those same amazing gentle hands moved down her backbone, to her butt, over her hips, and finally to her breasts.

This was always the point where Caroline felt just a little bit awkward. Most guys made a beeline for them, and Hugh already got points for making her boobs his last stop. Usually guys groped them, or squeezed them too hard, or played with her nipples in a way that wasn’t at all pleasurable.

Hugh’s approach was completely different. Holy smokes, the man knew what he was doing with those engineer’s hands. He brushed his fingers lightly over her, circling toward the most sensitive parts. By the time he actually touched her nipples, she was ready to beg for it.

He generated so much heat and pleasure with those hands of his that it eventually became impossible for Caroline to stay upright.

She tumbled backward onto the bed. He followed after her, his hands and then his mouth continuing the thorough and amazing exploration of her body.

And then the profanity hit the fan, along with a wave of pleasure that took her someplace beyond reality.
Caroline said that filthy word more than a dozen times, right in a row.

She screamed it, actually.

So loud, in fact, that the folks in the next room over (who were undoubtedly doing the same thing as Hugh and Caroline) started banging on the wall.

And that’s when Baron Woolham let go of a truly depraved laugh. “You are not nearly as prim and proper as you appear, Miss Rhodes,” he said.

“Are you going to tell my boss about this?”

“No. I am the very soul of discretion.”

He laughed again, and she laughed with him. It felt so incredibly liberating to laugh like this. To simply throw caution to the wind and let herself go.

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