Fantasy for Hire - Erika Wilde Page 0,23
voice was evident.
He didn’t get that impression from Susan, but then again the other woman had been quite enthusiastic about Teddy being in a relationship again. Family dynamics were a curious thing.
“I’ll just give her a quick call and explain our one-night arrangement.” Startled by the sound of her own words, she amended hastily, “I mean, set her straight about our business deal.”
So, she was back to business, was she?
Teddy reached for the phone, tucked it next to her ear and punched in a series of numbers. With a forced lightness, she added, “The last thing I’d want is for my entire family to think I’m seriously involved with someone. They’d be all over you like piranhas, picking you apart, piece by piece.”
Her analogy wasn’t a pleasant one, but it served to remind him of where they stood with one another—on opposite sides of the tracks. There was no way her family would approve of a guy who fulfilled women’s fantasies, and was struggling to maintain a landscaping business.
A frown creased Teddy’s forehead, and with a deep sigh, she set the phone back into the cradle. “The line’s busy.” She gave her gold watch a quick glance. “I’ll have to catch up with Susan later. We need to get going.”
Picking up her black shawl from the couch, she settled it over her bare shoulders and headed for the door. Minutes later, they were in Austin’s black Mustang, following Teddy’s directions toward the Bay area.
Silence filled the interior of the vehicle, except for the low volume of mellow music drifting from the speakers. Austin glanced briefly Teddy’s way. She sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, quiet and subdued. Reserved even. Was she mulling over the conversation he’d had with her sister-in-law? Or was she more worried about the Christmas party ahead?
“So, who is Bartholomew?” he asked, voicing the one question that had been on his mind since Susan mentioned him.
“I’m gonna strangle Susan,” Teddy muttered darkly.
A grin quirked the corner of Austin’s mouth. “Pardon?”
“Bartholomew Winston is a past mistake,” she said succinctly, without looking at him. “And one I’d rather not talk about.”
The resentment in her tone was unmistakable. “All right,” he conceded, now even more curious about this mystery man of her past, and what had happened between them.
Again, silence reigned. As Austin exited the freeway and neared the hotel where the Christmas party was being held, the more tense Teddy seemed to become. He no longer suspected that her uneasiness stemmed from Susan’s call. It was all about the promotion she was up for—if Louden fell for their little game.
Tonight would tell.
Pulling the Mustang under the valet awning, he put the car in park and turned toward Teddy. He touched her knee, his fingers rasping along her silky stockings, and she jumped in response. She jerked her luminous gaze, now filled with anxiety, to his, but the slight tremble he felt where his fingers lay idly against her thigh told him she was very aware of him, and the intimacy of their situation.
He tilted his head, regarding her with genuine concern. “Hey, you okay?”
She moved her leg out of his reach, dislodging his gentle touch. She gave him a smile that appeared more like a grimace. “Sure, I’m fine,” she said in a tone too bright and chipper.
He stared at her for a long moment. Beneath all that forced cheerfulness, there was something incredibly vulnerable about her—not that he’d expect an independent career woman like Teddy to ever admit to such an emotion. No, she wanted to be strong and confident, and in control. A part of him understood that. Respected it, even.
“Teddy,” he whispered, wishing she’d ease up and relax around him. Otherwise, Louden Avery would know he was a fraud, and that revelation would defeat Teddy’s purpose. But before he could express his concerns, a young man opened her door and offered a gloved hand to help her out of the car.
Austin sighed, gave his vehicle over to valet and met up with Teddy on the curb. Settling his palm on her lower back, he ushered her through the automatic glass doors that whooshed open for them. She stiffened, but didn’t protest the hand resting so familiarly where her spine ended and the curve of her bottom began. There was nothing inappropriate about the way he touched her, yet he got the distinct impression that she would have preferred he didn’t.
Knowing she was forcibly resisting what was between them, irritation gripped him. She was