Flirting with Temptation - By Kelley St. John Page 0,78

your condo and what?”

“You’ll see. So cancel your plans.”

“You haven’t won yet, Babette.”

“No,” she said, turning and slinging her hair as she strode toward the stage. “But I will.”

Chapter 15

Jeff watched Babette near the stage and then saw them pin the number 34 to the tiny bikini string at her right hip. While she wasn’t paying attention to him, he shot a look at the bleach-blond surfer guy who’d had the nerve to insult her boobs. Jeff had wanted to deck the guy, but when he’d seen how frazzled Babette was by his remark, he’d thought of a better way to handle the situation. Let Babette show the guy that she had plenty of “other stuff.”

Jeff grinned. Hell, he’d been so pleased with his idea, and even more with the way Babette bought into it, determined to show both him and the blond fool that she could win this thing. And Jeff had no doubt she would.

He worked his way through the crowd until he stood behind the three men judging the event, and he was using the term “men” loosely. All three were college-age, twenty-two tops.

He scanned the women in line for the competition. Babette was probably the oldest female in the lot, a fact that he assumed she recognized, given the way she’d leaned out a bit to scan the other women.

The surfer guy jogged to the center of the stage to pump up the crowd and announce how the contest would work. Basically, the girls would make two passes, a first pass, and then another one set to music. The audience could convey their opinion by applause, and the three guys sitting at the table would decide the winner.

Jeff had two reasons for issuing this challenge to Babette. One, he knew she could win, and two, he knew that she’d always thought her body a bit inferior due to her small breasts. But he also knew that she was beautiful, and perfect, and that these three guys, and the crowd for that matter, would see that, and maybe finally show Babette that she had nothing, nothing at all, to feel inferior about.

Surfer guy called out number one, and the first contestant, a teen who looked like she’d already had a couple of “selective surgeries,” pranced across the stage like a prize show horse. She wore a white one-piece that was little more than strategically placed dental floss and red stilettos. The crowd went wild, and so did the three judges.

Jeff leaned forward, trying to glimpse what they’d written on their judging pads, but he couldn’t see a thing for all the other people crowded around them.

The remaining women followed suit after the first one, strutting their stuff across the stage, blowing kisses to the crowd and doing shimmy moves that were quite impressive toward the judges. Of course, the impressive part was that they could keep their massive boobs within flimsy material when they were shaking them to high heaven.

Then number 30 came out. She was older than the college kids but younger than Babette, and she wore one of those Texas flag bikinis that always got Jeff’s attention on the beach, and the attention of every other red-blooded male, judging by the way the shouts of the crowd suddenly escalated, and every judge leaned forward.

“Damn,” Jeff muttered, glancing toward the side stage and toward Babette, who was suddenly looking a bit worried.

Texas Flag didn’t exactly strut; she sauntered. And she wasn’t blond, as most of the other contestants were, but she had long, straight brunette hair that reminded Jeff of Demi Moore’s. As a matter of fact, she had that Demi Moore look. Or maybe it was more Penelope Cruz. Or Eva Mendes. Jeff didn’t know, but the woman had that something that stood out, and obviously, everyone noticed.

Jeff swallowed hard, and suddenly regretted the fact that he wasn’t allowing Babette to flirt. Flirting, she’d beat Miss Texas hands down. But without flirting, he wasn’t so sure. And damn it, he didn’t want her embarrassed. He didn’t want her to lose.

The next three contestants passed without much fanfare, and then the only redhead in the bunch, consequently the last contestant, stepped onto the stage.

Unlike the majority of the other contestants, Babette wasn’t wearing stilettos, or anything else on her feet, which made her suddenly seem smaller, or younger, or something. Her hair had that beach-mussed look, all wild and red, curls that toppled down her back like a fountain of fire.

Her tiny green bikini caught the

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