The Taming of a Wild Child (9 page)

It was just downright depressing to contemplate.

Donovan revved her engines, but he was like tequila: not a good idea unless she wanted to make a fool of herself.
As if she hadn’t already made a big enough fool of herself by throwing herself at him last night.

And look what that had gotten her.

She looked over at Jack. Jack was exactly what she needed, tingle be damned.

The expectations of the right thing to do were ingrained into her: she was
supposed
to marry a man from the right family, have a couple of children to raise the right way, and settle into the society niche that had been carved for her at birth.

She’d tried, but she’d never quite measured up. And as Vivi had become the paragon of all the right virtues, she’d finally just given up even trying to live up to that standard and had become a bit of a rebel just out of a need for self-protection. She’d even convinced herself that she
wanted
to be the horrible warning instead of the good example.

Now, after years of not caring—or merely doing the minimum required of her—she found herself fighting for her place. She had a hell of a lot to prove to a hell of a lot of people, and the only way to accomplish that was by playing by their rules.

She sneaked a peek to her left. Donovan St. James was not in the playbook at all.
Pity
.

The problem with rebelling was that, while it was liberating and exciting, it painted her as an irresponsible flake who didn’t respect the traditions she’d been taught her entire life. She’d been both an embarrassment and a disappointment to her family, because after failing to live up to Vivi’s example she’d simply quit trying. If she harbored any hope of changing that now she not only had to live by the rules, she needed to embrace them and live them.

Vivi’s honeymoon had handed her the perfect opportunity to show that she wasn’t that girl anymore. This was a
crucial time for her; she couldn’t afford a potentially embarrassing affair with Donovan.

Not that it seemed to be an option now, since Julie seemed to have made her claim without a peep of protest from Donovan. She should probably be happy Julie had derailed that train before it could crash spectacularly.

A Lorelei-Donovan coupling—however brief and non-permanent—would probably kill her grandmother. Regardless of anything else he had going for him, nothing—not the St. James family money, not even the respect Donovan had earned in his profession—would ever give Donovan St. James membership to the club as long as the old guard were in power. And he probably still wouldn’t get an invite after they all died off, either. Some lines just couldn’t be crossed.

She might not fully agree with the attitude, but she was so tired of being the family disappointment that she was willing to do practically anything to change that. She’d never be a pillar of that society, but she could at least be a functioning member of it.

Damn. Now she was
really
depressed.

She signaled for a server and ordered a large glass of wine.

I should not be chasing after Lorelei LaBlanc
. It had been an ordeal to get out of Julie Hebert’s clutches—into which Lorelei had delivered him in the first damn place, before swanning off to spend the evening with Jack Morgan—only to find out that Lorelei had left long ago, claiming a headache.

Without saying goodbye.
Again
. Twice in one day was just too much.

Honestly, he’d been a bit relieved when he’d woken to an empty bed, as he had no idea how this morning would
have played out otherwise. Even though he could assume that Lorelei would have been much less huffy and antagonistic this time, there was no such thing as an un-awkward morning after. He was actually grateful that Lorelei had been so accommodating as to leave before the awkwardness set in and ruined the memory of a very pleasant night. Based on how adamant she’d been about leaving immediately last night, he rather assumed she felt the same way.

He had both respect for and experience with the fine art of the pre-dawn exit—so why, then, did he have a nagging irritation about Lorelei’s? He’d done his fair share of bolting, but he’d at least tried
not
to make it look as if that was exactly what he was doing. And he never left without saying goodbye, even if he had to wake the woman up to do so, because not to would just be disrespectful. He liked to think he had better manners than
that
.

That was what ticked him off. And as the day had progressed it had only got worse. By the time he’d got to the awards dinner and seen Lorelei up on that stage …

Then, to make matters worse, she’d honed in on Jack Morgan like a heat-seeking missile—as if she hadn’t been naked in
his
arms less than twelve hours earlier.

He’d known hooking up with Lorelei was insanity.

Yet here he was, navigating his way through the pedestrians that spilled out of the clubs on Frenchman Street on his way to her house. He hadn’t phoned first—even after two nights spent tangled in her arms he still didn’t have her number—but he knew exactly where she lived thanks to Connor and Vivi’s press.

The one thing he didn’t know yet was exactly
why
he had this need to track her down tonight. It could backfire spectacularly in his face, but even that knowledge didn’t have him turning around. Damn, he was a glutton for punishment.

He found a spot on the street about a block from her house and parked. The streets weren’t well lit, and jazz from one of the clubs floated on the air, broken only by the occasional laugh or shout of party-goers down the street.

Lorelei’s house sat close to the road, with only a small strip of grass separating the sidewalk from a wide, screened-in wraparound porch. Most of the house was dark: only one light inside and one on the porch glowed against the night. He remembered Lorelei saying something about a roommate who was never home, and hoped that would be the case tonight.

As he turned up the walk he wasn’t surprised to see Lorelei reclined lengthwise across a large wooden swing, head back against a cushion. She held a tablet in one hand, the steady movement of one finger scrolling through whatever was on the screen. One bare foot touched the wood planks, keeping the swing gently in motion.

When Lorelei heard his steps, she sat up and stopped the swing. The sparkly cocktail dress had been replaced with a pair of cut-offs that exposed the long sleek lines of her thighs and a tank top that clearly outlined her breasts—and advertised the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra. That mass of hair was pulled up and clipped to the back of her head to keep her cool. She’d looked glamorous and sexy-as-hell earlier, but somehow the simplicity of this outfit had a powerful effect on him. His blood rushed south so fast he got a little light-headed. Even if his brain wasn’t sure why he was here, his body damn sure was.

“Well, this is a surprise. What brings you by?” Lorelei didn’t move from the swing, so he was left standing on the other side of the screen door.

He shrugged. “You left rather suddenly. People were concerned.”

Lorelei set the tablet aside and reached for the beer bottle
on the table beside her. “And so you decided to come check on me?”

“Seemed like I should. Hasty or stealthy exits usually mean something isn’t right.”

She nodded. “
Uh-hmm
. Well, my business was finished. No sense sticking around.”

“Obviously.”

Lorelei shook her head. “So
that’s
the bee in your bonnet? Seriously?”

“Excuse me?”

“Let’s not play games.”

“That would be refreshing.”

“You told me to lock the door behind me when I left. I did. You were still asleep, and I saw no reason to wake you and go through a weird morning-after pantomime. It wasn’t some kind of statement.” She laughed. “I had no idea your ego was so fragile.”

God, she had the most amazing ability to twist everything. “My ego is
not
fragile.”

An eyebrow went up, mocking him. “Really? Then why are you here?”

That caught him off guard, and he realized he was acting
exactly
as if that was the problem. It was just as ridiculous as it sounded, and while his earlier irritation wouldn’t quite go away, it no longer seemed like a big deal. With that knowledge, the
other
reason driving him came rushing back to the forefront, causing his zipper to dig into his skin.

“This is the one place Julie Hebert won’t think to look for me.”

Lorelei bit her bottom lip, but he could tell she was trying not to laugh. She finally got off the swing and came to unlatch the screen door.

“You should be flattered. Julie has a list of requirements, and you were the only one who met all the criteria.”

“Upright and breathing?”

If she bit her lip any harder she would draw blood. “They were a little more stringent than that.”

“Fat checkbook?”

She shrugged. “That might have been on the list.”

“Then spare me the rest of her criteria. I don’t want to know.”

She reached under the table and he heard ice rattling. “Beer?” She had one out and was holding it in his direction before he could even answer.

That was a good sign. He accepted the bottle and sat in the wicker rocker on the other side of the table as she went back to the swing. “Well, if you struck out tonight it’s your own fault. Julie was certainly willing.”

Was that jealousy he heard in her voice? “Did you not hear the part about me finding a place where Julie wouldn’t look?”

“Well, this would be the right place. Julie Hebert and I aren’t exactly friends.”

“So you set her loose on
me?
Gee, thanks.”

Lorelei might have smiled as she curled one leg up into the swing with her and used the other foot to put it in motion again. He liked how easily Lorelei seemed to get past things, without holding grudges or needing to discuss it to death. She might flare up easily, but once it was done, it was done, it seemed. It made things … comfortable.

Beside her, the glowing screen of the tablet went dark.

“Working?”

“The event for the homeless shelter is on Monday, as it turns out. I’m trying to prepare. Vivi’s assistant sent over some notes, but …”

“Vivi had better watch out. Little sis will be showing her up, taking her title.”

“Oh, I don’t want her title. One saint is enough for any family.”

“You’re probably right.”

Her head fell back. “I’ll be so glad when they’re back from their honeymoon. Her schedule is insane.”

“Vivi makes it look easy.”

“I know. It’s been a humbling experience, to say the least.”

“But I bet Vivi doesn’t have time to sit on the porch and enjoy a beer on a summer night.”

Lorelei conceded that with a nod. “She doesn’t. But then porch-sitting and beer-drinking aren’t the best use of my education or a productive use of my time. Privilege entails us to responsibility. I should be setting a good example.”

Well,
that
was a loaded statement if ever he’d heard one, but Lorelei had delivered it without bitterness or sarcasm. She sounded more resigned than anything else. He watched her closely and decided the beer in her hand was not her first one of the evening. She wasn’t drunk, but she was certainly unguarded.

He heard a ping and Lorelei reached for her phone. A glance at the screen had her snorting. “Julie may not think to look for you here, but she’s definitely looking for you. She’s texted me to see if I know how to get in touch with you.”

“Please say no.”

She frowned at the screen. “I’m trying to figure out how she got
my
number.”

“I imagine it was quite easy for her. You both know all the same people.”

“But I actually don’t have your number, so it’s not a lie
if I tell her that.” Lorelei put the phone down and leaned back again. “You know she just wants you for sex?”

“That was made very clear, yes.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”

There was a certain irony in her question, considering their situation. “Not really.” He caught her eyes and held them. “As long as both parties are clear on the rules, I don’t see the harm.”

Lorelei seemed to think about that. “Maybe,” she said, in the most non-committal tone he’d ever heard.

“I will admit that I’m rather surprised to be on her list, though.”

“Why?”

“After listening to her tirade against her low-class, social-climbing ex-husband, I would have thought she’d limit her rebound choices to someone with a better pedigree.”

“Charming. You make us sound like we’re registered with the kennel club.”

“Honestly, you sort of
are
. Got to protect those bloodlines.”

Lorelei leveled a look at him. “I’ll admit there’s some of that going on.”

“Just ‘some’?”

Lorelei made a face. “I don’t know quite how to say this nicely … but you do know that it’s you
personally
that’s the problem, right?”

At least she was willing to be honest about it. “There’s a problem?” he joked.

“Oh, please. You destroyed two families—”

“I didn’t destroy anyone or anything. I just happened to be the one who found out and exposed the whole dirty mess.”

“Oh,
I
know that. But, say what you like about pedigrees,
we are a loyal bunch. We protect and defend our own.”

“Closed ranks?”

“Exactly. You’re looking at families, businesses and relationships that go back generations, so we’re all tied together. I know these people—have known them my entire life. I can’t help but feel for them.”

“It’s not that I don’t feel for those families, but Lincoln DuBois made his family vulnerable by the choices he made.”

“No one believes that what Mr. DuBois was doing was right, but it still sent a shock wave through our community. And
you
were the cause of that shock wave.”

“You think I did those articles with an ulterior motive?”

She gave a half shrug, half nod that said an awful lot.

“What motive could I possibly have?”

“A search for glory and fame, maybe? You certainly got both of those. Then there’s the possibility of spite or jealousy? A chance to bring down people you envy?” Lorelei shrugged. “I’ll admit I thought that way for a while.”