Emergency Engagement. Michele Dunaway

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      Her hat still hid part of her face, but the trench coat had been loosened to reveal her black lace outfit underneath. She did a maneuver in which she dropped to sit without a chair, and Bill grinned widely. The beer Quinton had had suddenly tasted old and pasty in his mouth. She stood up, flashed the crowd by opening and closing her trench coat, then simply opened the coat and let slip off her shoulders.

      The words to the song were something about leaving the hat on but she tilted it up and away from her face. Once she turned around Quinton would be able to see her. But she arched her back and pivoted.

      The trench coat fell to her feet and all the men except for Quinton hollered. Instead, he swallowed. Despite his clinical aloofness, the body underneath the black lace outfit appealed to him. The woman didn’t have a perfect body, but her warm full curves made his fingers itch to touch them. She unhooked a garter belt and Quinton felt himself strain against his jeans. She straightened, and with a flick of her wrist, she finally sent the hat flying. Dark blond hair tumbled from beneath the hat and spread over her shoulders. Then she turned.

      And Quinton froze.

      Those lips. That nose. Those blue eyes. They’d stayed with him for the past two weeks.

      He was on his feet in a second, next to her in maybe one more. She began to loosen a strap. “Stop,” he said. He placed a hand on her arm.

      For her to register that he wasn’t just some drunk frisking a feel took a moment. Beth swatted Quinton’s hand away. “What are you doing?” She kept her voice low, so only he could hear.

      “I’m getting you out of here.” He couldn’t believe the force behind his words. To hell with the boos from his friends and acquaintances. They were married or about to be. They didn’t need a peep show, especially of her. Hell, most of them wouldn’t remember her face five minutes after she left.

      What kind of a mother was she, anyway? He could still picture Carly’s innocent eyes.

      “Cut it out, Quinton. Whatcha doing?” someone called.

      He really didn’t know, nor did he answer, but like a possessed man, he circled Beth’s wrist with his fingers and dragged her toward the kitchen.

      “Let go of me,” Beth said as she wrenched herself away. “I don’t appreciate what you think you’re doing. I have to finish my job—”

      At that moment she recognized him. “Oh.”

      “‘Oh’ is right. Your job’s finished.”

      “Quinton?” Larry poked his head around the cabinets. “Is everything okay?”

      “Move on to the porno flicks or something. She won’t be finishing. And bring me her stuff, will ya?”

      “What do I tell Bill?”

      “Make something up.”

      “You can’t do this,” Beth said.

      “I just did,” Quinton said, as Larry returned with Beth’s things. “You had me so fooled.” He shook his head savagely as he tossed her trench coat at her. “Let’s go.”

      “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me…”

      She must have seen the look in his eyes, for she headed toward the door. After telling Larry to make his excuses, that he’d explain later, he was right on her heels.

      “Where’s your car?” he demanded as they exited the building, his gaze roving the street.

      “I took the L,” she said.

      “Then get in mine,” he said. One hand still on her arm, with his free hand he fumbled for the remote and unlocked his Mercedes. When he reached for the door handle, she pulled away.

      “Stop this. I’m not going anywhere with you. You’ve screwed everything up! Don’t you get it? I had a job to do and—”

      “Job’s over. I’m taking you home. You won’t go back inside.” He glared at her, and she glared right back.

      She must have believed him, though, for she said, “I can get home by myself. I don’t even remember your name.”

      “I’m Quinton Searle. You can call me Quinton.” His jaw set in a stubborn line. “And I’m taking you home.”

      Her chin came up as she held her ground. “I can take care of myself. You are not my keeper. I got here, didn’t I?”

      More possessiveness swept over him, even surprising him. “That’s irrelevant. I’ll drive you. In that getup at this time of the night you won’t even make it to the L station without being accosted.”

      “Isn’t that what you’re doing?” Her ice-blue eyes blazed, and Quinton felt something inside him stir.

      Damn, but she did things to him. Exactly what he wasn’t certain, but he’d never yanked a woman out of a party before, much less a stripper. “I’m not attacking you. I’m saving you.”

      “Yeah, right,” she said, but to his relief she complied and got in the car.

      His respite from her verbal attack lasted mere seconds.

      “You do realize that you just cost me five hundred dollars.”

      Quinton gripped the leather steering wheel tighter. Was that all her display was worth? His boat slip at Belmont Harbor cost more. Her chest heaved and the coat parted slightly. Quinton forced himself to keep his eyes on the road.

      “You shouldn’t be stripping. You have a child. You have a moral example to set.”

      “Oh thank you for that lecture, Mr. Moral Majority. How dare you accuse me of being a bad parent!”

      He hadn’t thought so in the ER. There, her love and tenderness for her child had impressed him. Seeing this side to her tarnished that earlier image and he lashed out.

      “In two weeks I’ve observed two examples of your unfit parenting! Your little girl gets into your purse and eats medicine, and then I find you at a bachelor party shucking your clothes. That’s pretty cut-and-dried to me, lady.”

      “You’re a jerk and I’d never be your lady! Hell, I wouldn’t even want to be your sister.”

      “That’s good. My sister’s a lawyer and getting married to a banker in four weeks. I doubt Shelby’s ever taken off her clothes before multiple men in her life.”

      “‘Ye who are sinless toss the first stone,’” Beth said.

      “I will,” Quinton replied, then snapped, “Where do you live?”

      She rattled off an address. His eyebrows rose and he glanced at her. “You must do well. Pretty high-end, isn’t it?”

      Bitterness etched her features. “So high-end they’re converting to condos and tossing out all the trash like me. And thanks to your interference tonight, I won’t have the money to afford a security deposit for something else.”

      “Maybe СКАЧАТЬ