The Wedding Favor by Unknown Page B

relax into the rhythm. Why did it feel so good to dance with a woman he couldn’t stand?
    Circling the flagstones, he kept one eye on the door. After having second thoughts on the way to meet Annemarie, he’d thrown himself on Isabelle’s mercy. She’d promised to run interference, but since she’d already sent Annemarie off on one trumped-up errand that evening—which explained where Annemarie had disappeared to at dinnertime—there was no telling whether it would work again.
    Which meant she might pop out that door any minute, expecting to cash in on his promise to bed her. He’d barely escaped their last encounter with his virtue intact; he couldn’t risk being alone with her again. Which meant he had no choice but to stay glued to Vicky all evening. Whether she liked it or not.
    At the moment, she wasn’t so hot on it. “Well?” she demanded, blue eyes sparking under lowered brows. “What did you say to make my mother so mad? She’s spitting nails, and she won’t tell me why.”
    He’d already figured out that the only way to play it with Vicky was to turn the tables, keep her off balance. If he gave her an inch, she’d lawyer him into a corner he’d never get out of.
    “The question you should be asking,” he said tartly, “is what your mother said to me.”
    She glared some more. Then, “Okay, I’ll bite. What did my mother say to you?”
    “The first thing she said is that you’re handling the appeal. Why didn’t you tell me that?”
    She lowered her eyes. Some of the starch went out of her. “I didn’t think you’d want to talk about the case. And anyway, it’s not really ethical for us to discuss it.”
    “Okay then, we won’t.” That suited him. “She also told me that you and Winston are a match made in heaven.”
    That put the starch back in her. Her head whipped up. “She said that?”
    “Not in so many words, but that was her drift.”
    He could almost hear her teeth grind. “Do you know she made me promise to give him another chance, or else she’d tell Matt and Isabelle about you and me? What kind of mother blackmails her child? What kind of mother wants her daughter to marry a cheating swine?”
    “That’s exactly what I asked that got her all riled up.”
    Vicky’s mouth fell open. “You did? You asked her that?” Her lips curved into a spontaneous smile.
    It softened her, that smile. She looked so amazed and so vulnerable that he had to look away. Jesus, hadn’t anybody ever stuck up for her before?
    “That was . . .” She paused, cleared her throat. “I’m sure that’s what got under her skin.”
    No need to add that he’d as much as told Adrianna he was planning to seduce her daughter.
    “Yeah, she’s got a temper,” was all he said.
    Vicky was quiet after that, her body swaying with the music, her cheek resting on his chest. He rubbed his jaw against her hair, not because it felt so silky, but because he had an itch. Her fingers fiddled with his collar again.
    He was glad she wasn’t letting his erection bother her, because it was there to stay.
    I f only they could keep dancing, Vicky thought.
    If they kept dancing, she wouldn’t have to face her mother’s bullet-hole stare, or regret Matt abandoning her, or worry about running into Winston at some cocktail party in New York. She could let her head rest where it was, against Ty’s broad chest.
    He didn’t seem to hate her so much when they were dancing. Oh, he made fun of her, obviously thought she was a tight ass. But he also smiled at her.
    That smile mesmerized her. It was a loaded weapon. When he aimed it at a woman, he could make her do crazy things. Like drink too much wine. Care about the difference between rationalism and empiricism. Toss out her inhibitions and have sex on an airplane.
    That last one still hurt, his rejection on the plane. But in truth she was partly to blame. She should have learned her lesson with Winston, and rejected Ty before he could reject her. She wouldn’t be