sweeping out a lean brown hand to indicate she should go first. “Shall we go in, then?”
Juliet struggled for composure as she preceded him into the Garden Crown. He was crazy, just plain crazy. That was all there was to it.
5
W hat are you, friggin’ nuts? The plan was to freak her into demanding a new escort, not —Beau ruthlessly chopped off the end of his thought; he didn’t even want to think about how his so-called plan had turned around and bitten him on the butt. Arms crossed over his chest, feet thrust out in front of him while he slumped on his tailbone on the same chair he’d occupied outside Juliet’s office before their foray into the Quarter, he scowled at Roxanne.
As if she cared. He swallowed a snort. The ginger-haired secretary reminded him of his sisters in the way she was able to ignore him with such apparent ease. And it wasn’t as if he were pissed at her, anyhow; she was just a convenient substitute. He was mad at himself.
Much as he might want to ignore the reasons why, he couldn’t seem to prevent his thoughts from returning to them over and over again, like a tongue probing the jagged edge of a broken tooth.He didn’t know what the hell had gotten into him. Juliet Rose Astor Lowell wasn’t even his type. He liked ’em small, stacked and brassy, not middlin’, willowy, and repressed. So what was he doing getting turned on by the sight of her feet , for chrissake?
Damn, that had to have been the most pitiful excuse of a striptease he’d ever seen in his life…and he got half hard all over again just thinking about it. He had to get out more; that’s all there was to it. His sex life was a joke, and had been for pretty much the entire decade since his folks had been killed. But hell, what other alternative had he had: to stand back and watch his family be broken apart? Not in this lifetime—and face it, he’d hardly been in a position to bring women home: his sisters had been way too young and impressionable. Nor had there been an abundance of free hours to go out searching for action. It all added up to a pretty damn sorry and sporadic love life.
That was all going to change any day now, though, and it sure as shit didn’t have to be this pathetic in the meantime. Hell, Juliet Rose hadn’t even intended her little stocking removal to be a tease; it was simply a minor rebellion against the jibes he’d been using to drive her away. But her skin was pale gold and smooth as honey, and he’d caught glimpses of it in an exposed calf here, a slender ankle there. And her feet—man, he didn’t know what it was about her feet, but they were long and slender, with high arches and long, narrow toes. Her toenails had been painted a virgin pink, where he’d expected them to be as prudishlyunadorned as her fingernails. And the smell of her…
He shifted uncomfortably, muttering an obscenity.
“All right, Dupree, that does it,” Roxanne suddenly snapped, and he blinked at her in surprise. He’d forgotten for a minute where he was.
She pointed to the door. “Go check out the hotel, grill the staff, walk the grounds. Do whatever it is you do, but do it someplace else. Juliet’s three o’clock is due at any moment and the woman considers me her social inferior. I might have to put up with her subtle snubs, but I don’t have to sit here and listen to you swear. Go away.”
“Why, Miz Roxanne, I’m crushed.” Beau shoved to his feet. “But hey, I’ve been kicked out of better places.” Catching her skeptically raised eyebrow, he rolled his shoulders and gave her a crooked smile. “Okay, maybe not better—this is a pretty cushy crib. But I’ve been kicked out by tougher folks than you, for sure. How many appointments does Juliet have, anyway, not counting the snob?”
“None.”
“No kidding?” That perked him up. “Think she’ll be done by three-thirty?”
“Maybe. By four certainly.”
“All right. Tell her to be ready to move out at four-oh-five.”
She
Juliet struggled for composure as she preceded him into the Garden Crown. He was crazy, just plain crazy. That was all there was to it.
5
W hat are you, friggin’ nuts? The plan was to freak her into demanding a new escort, not —Beau ruthlessly chopped off the end of his thought; he didn’t even want to think about how his so-called plan had turned around and bitten him on the butt. Arms crossed over his chest, feet thrust out in front of him while he slumped on his tailbone on the same chair he’d occupied outside Juliet’s office before their foray into the Quarter, he scowled at Roxanne.
As if she cared. He swallowed a snort. The ginger-haired secretary reminded him of his sisters in the way she was able to ignore him with such apparent ease. And it wasn’t as if he were pissed at her, anyhow; she was just a convenient substitute. He was mad at himself.
Much as he might want to ignore the reasons why, he couldn’t seem to prevent his thoughts from returning to them over and over again, like a tongue probing the jagged edge of a broken tooth.He didn’t know what the hell had gotten into him. Juliet Rose Astor Lowell wasn’t even his type. He liked ’em small, stacked and brassy, not middlin’, willowy, and repressed. So what was he doing getting turned on by the sight of her feet , for chrissake?
Damn, that had to have been the most pitiful excuse of a striptease he’d ever seen in his life…and he got half hard all over again just thinking about it. He had to get out more; that’s all there was to it. His sex life was a joke, and had been for pretty much the entire decade since his folks had been killed. But hell, what other alternative had he had: to stand back and watch his family be broken apart? Not in this lifetime—and face it, he’d hardly been in a position to bring women home: his sisters had been way too young and impressionable. Nor had there been an abundance of free hours to go out searching for action. It all added up to a pretty damn sorry and sporadic love life.
That was all going to change any day now, though, and it sure as shit didn’t have to be this pathetic in the meantime. Hell, Juliet Rose hadn’t even intended her little stocking removal to be a tease; it was simply a minor rebellion against the jibes he’d been using to drive her away. But her skin was pale gold and smooth as honey, and he’d caught glimpses of it in an exposed calf here, a slender ankle there. And her feet—man, he didn’t know what it was about her feet, but they were long and slender, with high arches and long, narrow toes. Her toenails had been painted a virgin pink, where he’d expected them to be as prudishlyunadorned as her fingernails. And the smell of her…
He shifted uncomfortably, muttering an obscenity.
“All right, Dupree, that does it,” Roxanne suddenly snapped, and he blinked at her in surprise. He’d forgotten for a minute where he was.
She pointed to the door. “Go check out the hotel, grill the staff, walk the grounds. Do whatever it is you do, but do it someplace else. Juliet’s three o’clock is due at any moment and the woman considers me her social inferior. I might have to put up with her subtle snubs, but I don’t have to sit here and listen to you swear. Go away.”
“Why, Miz Roxanne, I’m crushed.” Beau shoved to his feet. “But hey, I’ve been kicked out of better places.” Catching her skeptically raised eyebrow, he rolled his shoulders and gave her a crooked smile. “Okay, maybe not better—this is a pretty cushy crib. But I’ve been kicked out by tougher folks than you, for sure. How many appointments does Juliet have, anyway, not counting the snob?”
“None.”
“No kidding?” That perked him up. “Think she’ll be done by three-thirty?”
“Maybe. By four certainly.”
“All right. Tell her to be ready to move out at four-oh-five.”
She
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