he had his other wives, and she’d still lose the kids in the end. If she were a fairytale witch instead of the real life variety, she’d turn him into a toad.
No, wait, that wouldn’t work. He already was one.
“But that’s precisely why you are going to surrender peacefully to him. For the children,” Carlotta said.
“I am?” Molly glowered. Nope, she’d changed her mind on that. Surrender wouldn’t gain her anything. There had to be another way.
“You will if you’re smart.” The cat-grin appeared, curling the corners of red-painted lips into an expression of pure scheming. “Listen now, and I’ll tell you how to play this game.”
Chapter 7
Tyler tried to ignore André D’Leon as he stepped around the man at the foot of the stairs. Not an easy task. André’s glare was a bit distracting. So were the hot pink cowboy boots. The castanet-like clicking of heels followed Tyler down the length of the ballroom. A flash struck behind him, like lightning, just as he reached the door at the far end. André’s booming baritone voice rattled the crystal chandeliers.
“ Bravo ! Another masterpiece! I shall call it ‘The Devil’s Departure.’ You will sign for me a model release, Monsieur James, no?”
“No,” Monsieur James said, then pulled open the door and escaped into the poolroom.
A rather dubious escape, as it turned out.
He pushed past a curtain of vines and stopped short, blinking in the afternoon light streaming through the glass dome. The courtyard echoed with laughter and the sound of splashing. Tall, willowy forms crowded the sparkling sand beach – some, the expected palms with their long trunks and swaying fronds; the rest, a surprise gathering of females with long legs and swaying hips. Blondes, brunettes, redheads… All nubile young nymphs, ripe and frothy. And nearly naked.
A bevy of beauties?
A gaggle of girls?
Whatever you called them, they were a royal pain in the ass at the moment. Damn, he must be getting old when a display like this tightened his gut instead of something a little farther south. Who were these bimbos? Who let them in?
Carlotta, probably, which meant she was here for a fashion shoot. Peachy keen. Just what he needed. Where were his nephews? And where the hell was Barry?
Tyler’s hands itched to slug someone. Carlotta would be the obvious choice, for dumping this crew on him, but he didn’t hit women, so Barry would have to do. Cursing under his breath, he strode forward.
“Tyzie!”
The high-pitched squeal, like a sow in heat, halted him in mid-step.
Aw shit, no. Please, no…
“Tyzie” winced at the sight of a six-foot platinum blonde in a pink polka dot thong bikini bouncing toward him across the sand. And he did mean bouncing.
Thank you, Carlotta, for warning me she was here.
He braced for impact as she crashed into him, flattening against his chest – well, as flat as she ever got, which wasn’t much – and caught him in a hard hug around the neck. Then she pushed back to advertise thousands of dollars worth of dental work in a dazzling smile.
“Tyzie sugah, it’s so nice to see you!”
It was? The last time he’d seen her was when they’d signed their divorce papers, and she’d barely spoken to him then – for which he’d been truly grateful. Why the about-face in attitude? And why the return to modeling after swearing she was through with the profession? She hated modeling almost as much as she hated him.
Easy questions and the same answer to both. She must need money. Run through your divorce settlement so fast, doll? All those drugs and her lazy-ass boyfriend were expensive habits to support, weren’t they?
He gritted his teeth into a grin. “Hi, Bambi. It’s, um, nice to see you, too.”
Liar. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he tried to move past her.
Bambi blocked his path. One acrylic-nailed finger rose to trace a line down his arm.
“You’re lookin’ good, Tyy-zie.” She stretched out the
No, wait, that wouldn’t work. He already was one.
“But that’s precisely why you are going to surrender peacefully to him. For the children,” Carlotta said.
“I am?” Molly glowered. Nope, she’d changed her mind on that. Surrender wouldn’t gain her anything. There had to be another way.
“You will if you’re smart.” The cat-grin appeared, curling the corners of red-painted lips into an expression of pure scheming. “Listen now, and I’ll tell you how to play this game.”
Chapter 7
Tyler tried to ignore André D’Leon as he stepped around the man at the foot of the stairs. Not an easy task. André’s glare was a bit distracting. So were the hot pink cowboy boots. The castanet-like clicking of heels followed Tyler down the length of the ballroom. A flash struck behind him, like lightning, just as he reached the door at the far end. André’s booming baritone voice rattled the crystal chandeliers.
“ Bravo ! Another masterpiece! I shall call it ‘The Devil’s Departure.’ You will sign for me a model release, Monsieur James, no?”
“No,” Monsieur James said, then pulled open the door and escaped into the poolroom.
A rather dubious escape, as it turned out.
He pushed past a curtain of vines and stopped short, blinking in the afternoon light streaming through the glass dome. The courtyard echoed with laughter and the sound of splashing. Tall, willowy forms crowded the sparkling sand beach – some, the expected palms with their long trunks and swaying fronds; the rest, a surprise gathering of females with long legs and swaying hips. Blondes, brunettes, redheads… All nubile young nymphs, ripe and frothy. And nearly naked.
A bevy of beauties?
A gaggle of girls?
Whatever you called them, they were a royal pain in the ass at the moment. Damn, he must be getting old when a display like this tightened his gut instead of something a little farther south. Who were these bimbos? Who let them in?
Carlotta, probably, which meant she was here for a fashion shoot. Peachy keen. Just what he needed. Where were his nephews? And where the hell was Barry?
Tyler’s hands itched to slug someone. Carlotta would be the obvious choice, for dumping this crew on him, but he didn’t hit women, so Barry would have to do. Cursing under his breath, he strode forward.
“Tyzie!”
The high-pitched squeal, like a sow in heat, halted him in mid-step.
Aw shit, no. Please, no…
“Tyzie” winced at the sight of a six-foot platinum blonde in a pink polka dot thong bikini bouncing toward him across the sand. And he did mean bouncing.
Thank you, Carlotta, for warning me she was here.
He braced for impact as she crashed into him, flattening against his chest – well, as flat as she ever got, which wasn’t much – and caught him in a hard hug around the neck. Then she pushed back to advertise thousands of dollars worth of dental work in a dazzling smile.
“Tyzie sugah, it’s so nice to see you!”
It was? The last time he’d seen her was when they’d signed their divorce papers, and she’d barely spoken to him then – for which he’d been truly grateful. Why the about-face in attitude? And why the return to modeling after swearing she was through with the profession? She hated modeling almost as much as she hated him.
Easy questions and the same answer to both. She must need money. Run through your divorce settlement so fast, doll? All those drugs and her lazy-ass boyfriend were expensive habits to support, weren’t they?
He gritted his teeth into a grin. “Hi, Bambi. It’s, um, nice to see you, too.”
Liar. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he tried to move past her.
Bambi blocked his path. One acrylic-nailed finger rose to trace a line down his arm.
“You’re lookin’ good, Tyy-zie.” She stretched out the
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