A Bad Boy is Good to Find - By Jennifer Lewis Page 0,13
How could she feel anything else for him? He’d handcuffed her, stolen her away and locked her up in this strange motel.
Her clothes were damp, like they’d been washed. She lifted the blinds and peered out the small, slatted bathroom window. Featureless desert stretched out toward a distant mountain range. Where the hell where they and why? What did he want with her?
And more importantly, what had he done with those handcuffs?
She found them in the back pocket of the pants he’d removed and left folded on a chair in the bedroom. She slid them out, along with the key, and held them behind her back. Held her breath.
She crept to the bed on bare feet, heart thudding in her ears. Opened one chromed bracelet very slowly, careful not to jingle the chain. Then the other. The first one would wake him and she’d have to get the other one on before he could gain control of the situation. He was strong and quick.
She decided to start with the arm stretched across her pillow, then she could sit on the other one until she got it fastened.
Deep breath. She lifted one leg—doable, thanks to all that yoga—and spanned him with it. Moved the cuff through the air.
Snap. It was on. She crashed down on him, backside on his, yanked his cuffed arm down and cuffed the other.
Hah!
He spun on to his back, knocking her to the mattress, and she scrambled to her knees. He grimaced as the cuffs dug into his back, then shuffled into a sitting position, hands behind him.
His eyes caught her off guard as surprise turned to humor. She realized she was panting audibly, and she tossed her hair out of her face and drew herself up.
Still in just her underwear, she sucked in her stomach. “Where are my dry clothes, you jerk?”
“I forget.” A wicked smile hitched the corner of his mouth. The mouth that used to kiss her into oblivion.
“Never mind, I’m sure I can find them.” She didn’t like to turn her back on him so she eased off the bed and backed away. He shifted position, as if getting comfy. His smile broadened.
“Hey, you look good.”
Against her will, her nipples tightened. She sucked her stomach in a little further as she backed toward the wardrobe.
“You do. Damn.” He grinned at her. “I thought you got all skinny, but you didn’t. You look nice.”
“Stop looking at me!” Suddenly every overly curvaceous inch of her bulged in all directions and she fought the urge to look down. She felt more clear-headed than she had in a month. She’d been strutting around like Madonna in her drunken haze—maybe she was still fat after all?
She ripped open the dark brown closet.
Empty.
“Is the bag in the car?” She mustered a stern, schoolmarm expression.
He nodded, excited grin still spread across his face.
“Don’t look now, but your shorts are bulging. Any minute something’s going to come poking out and there won’t be a damn thing you can do about it.”
“No,” he said wistfully. His eyes drifted over her breasts and belly.
She grabbed a discarded sandal off the floor and brandished it over her shoulder.
He winced.
“Oh, you don’t like pain? Well, let me tell you, you don’t know anything about pain. Someday you should try sitting right on top of the world, then falling all the way off it.”
I did.
Did he say it or did she read it in his eyes?
“Oh, yes, of course, silly me. Poor little Conroy got cheated out of all those lovely millions. How could I forget?”
His lips twitched, but he didn’t say anything. Just regarded her steadily with those dark eyes.
A harsh laugh slipped out. “You’d think the fact that your name is Con would have tipped me off, wouldn’t you? I guess you know a good mark when you see one.”
He shifted on the bed, uncomfortable. Good.
“Well, you marked me alright. I’m a completely different person now. Like I flipped inside out overnight. No one’s going to catch me with my pants down again. Ever!” She slammed her sandal against the wall over his head. He ducked as the shoe fell to one side.
She realized she’d forgotten all about sucking in her stomach, and her breasts heaved with each angry breath. She pulled his shirt off the back of the chair and shoved her arms into the sleeves.
“Car keys?”
“No way.”
“I just want to get my bag.”
“Nope.”
“I need some clothes.”
“You’ve got some.” He flicked a glance down at the shirt.