Wanna Get Lucky? (40 page)

“Teddie?” I glanced out the window and could still see him waiting by the bar.

“I see her. Tell Dane to follow her, I’ll try to close them off from the opposite direction.”

“Dane—”

“Got it.” So he wasn’t by-the-book—I liked “wilco” better. At least then I knew what he was going to do.

A few seconds—which seemed like an eternity—passed. Then I caught sight of Felicia, dark hair flying, as she stalked around the pool, rigid with anger. She glanced over her shoulder once, but other than that, she didn’t seem nervous or wary—just mad.

“I see her,” Jeep answered in his soft, Midwestern tones. “Looks like she’s heading my way.”

“Act normal. Get her talking. The others need a minute or two to close in.”

He didn’t have time to answer as Felicia Reilly advanced on him.

“Teddie, work your way by the cabana,” I directed. “Let me know when you have them in sight.” I saw him move. “Dane, where are you?”

“Working my way around the other end of the pool, keeping my distance from Ms. Reilly. I don’t want to spook her before Ted’s in place.”

Jeep held off Felicia for the moment, but she was getting angry, their conversation heated.

“Fat man, I want my money—fifty grand. You said you’d have it tonight.” Felicia’s voice was shrill.

I couldn’t tell whether she was just mad or starting to panic.

“I’m a man of God—a shepherd of the people. I don’t have that kind of money. I’ll need more time,” Jeep pleaded.

“A man of God! That’s rare!” Felicia scoffed. “You’ll be without a flock soon unless you give me the money now!”

“Please, you must understand,” Jeep implored, his arms spread wide. “You’ll ruin me.”

“I intend to, if you don’t pay up. Now!” Felicia gestured wildly as she shifted from foot to foot in front of him.

Jeep shook his head. “I don’t have the money. I can’t get it until day after tomorrow.”

Felicia glanced over Jeep’s shoulder and she froze—she’d caught sight of Dane advancing on her.

A quick glance told me Teddie was in place, cutting off her escape route around the end of the pool opposite the one Dane rounded.
Effectively, the two men had Felicia trapped in a chute between the pool and the fence separating the property from the golf course.

Felicia glanced over her shoulder. She looked right past Teddie.

Jeep grabbed her. They struggled. Felicia wiggled free and gave Jeep a huge push. Arms whirling as he fought for balance, Jeep teetered on the edge of the pool.

Then he toppled over into the water.

All heads turned at the huge splash.

For a moment, no one did anything, then a “hooray” arose from the crowd and guests began darting for the pool and cannonballing in.

“Shit,” Dane said, as he was caught in the lemminglike chain reaction. Fighting through the surge of people, he’d never reach Felicia in time.

“Teddie—”

“I got her.”

Just as I thought she would get by him, he grabbed her arm, whirling her around.

He reared back, cocked his fist . . .

And hit her right in the face.

She staggered back, then dropped like a heart-shot deer.

Right into the Naked Mariachis.

Men and instruments went flying—ass over teakettle—in an abundance of exposed flesh.

Some women screamed. Some cheered.

“Interesting party, don’t you think,” I said as Romeo and I ripped off our headsets and ran.

FELICIA
Reilly still lay on the ground, but was showing signs of life when Romeo and I pushed through the crowd. Teddie shook his hand, a grimace on his face.

“You’re going to have to tell him about the elbow thing,” Romeo said as he dropped to his knee, rolled the good Miss Reilly over and clasped her hands in a pair of handcuffs.

The crowd gasped as Teddie removed his wig and grinned at me. Several folks applauded.

I looped my arms around his neck. “You did it!”

He laughed as, a hand under each of my arms, he lifted me up, then let my body slide slowly down his—firing every nerve.

“This is the first time I’ve been the heroine
and
gotten the girl,” he said just before his mouth closed over mine.

Dane fought through the crowd, arriving beside us and cutting short a rather delicious kiss. He stared down at the now trussed Ms. Reilly, then at Teddie, his admiration evident. “Ted, you are my kind of gal!”

I grabbed someone’s mug of half-frozen libations and tossed the contents in Felicia Reilly’s face. As she sputtered and spewed I felt a small sense of satisfaction. Teddie was right—letting go felt good—although I don’t think this was exactly what he had in mind.

Romeo jerked her to her feet and escorted her toward the house. Teddie, my hand in his, Dane, and I followed.

As we passed the hot tub, I noticed the occupants—still hard at it—hadn’t even noticed the commotion. “Would we still be considered voyeurs even though they don’t care if we watch?” I whispered to Teddie.

He shot me a grin. “You are the most amazing woman,” he said, sending shivers down my spine. “Where do you come up with that stuff?”

“Sorta scary, huh?” I returned his grin. “Living with me is a cross I bear.”

“Why don’t you let me help you carry the load,” he whispered in my ear, breaking the tenuous thread of control I had over my imagination.

A few moments alone with my imaginative wanderings and I needed a cold shower—or a locked room.

Standing under the porte cochere, Teddie pressed behind me, his arms around my waist, his chin on my shoulder, Dane standing to one side, we watched Romeo stuff Felicia Reilly into the back of
an unmarked squad car. He said something to the uniformed cops, then strode back toward our little group.

“I don’t care if you have to use the thumbscrews and the water board, I need to know her story by ten o’clock tomorrow morning,” I said to Romeo when he was close enough. “I’m counting on you—everything hangs in the balance.”

“I won’t let you down.” His intensity showed in his eyes, earnestness adding weight to his words.

The kid would do his best. I only hoped it would be enough.

LONG
after Romeo had collected his equipment from room three and both he and the squad car had disappeared through the gate, the three of us stood there, lost in our own thoughts. Everything was out of my hands now. Either Felicia Reilly would give up Irv Gittings or she wouldn’t. I prayed for the latter, but The Big Boss and I had prepared for either. There was nothing more I could do.

Leaning back into Teddie, I shut my eyes as he nuzzled my neck, sending delicious shivers through me. Almost gasping out loud, I smiled as a ball of warmth exploded inside me, invading every crevice. “Cut that out!”

Teddie ignored me.

I didn’t pull away.

“You guys need to find a room,” Dane groused as he disappeared back inside the house, leaving us to ourselves.

“That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” Teddie whispered as he nibbled my ear.

“I already have a room,” I whispered back. “But we need to get you out of that dress.”

O
nce inside room three—which, by the way, I now saw in a totally different light—Teddie dropped the pashmina in a chair, shucked the sundress over his head as well as his underpinnings, and dropped the whole mess on the floor en route to the bathroom. At the door, he turned, dressed only in his swing easies, and said, “Don’t move! I’ll be right back.”

Was he kidding?

Even I don’t have that kind of superhuman control.

I followed him.

His back to me, Teddie bent over the sink, washing the makeup off—an interesting pose, with a myriad of possibilities. Stepping in behind him, I pressed myself against him, running my hands along the muscles in his back.

“Jesus,” Teddie swore under his breath as he glanced up at me and scrubbed faster.

“Don’t hurry on my account,” I said as I slid my fingers under the elastic waistband, then slowly worked from back to front—teasing, tantalizing. “I’m having a great time.”

Splashing his face quickly, he pulled me around in front of him. Face-to-face, I let my hands roam lower, as—one by one—he popped the buttons on my shirt. Wanting—needing—to feel his hands on me, I reached to help him.

He shook his head and knocked my hands away. “My turn to play,” he murmured as he found the last button, then pushed my open shirt back over my shoulders, pinning my arms. His mouth closed over mine as his hands found my skin, taking the breath from me.

Wallowing in the sensations of him, the feel of his hands on me, his mouth on mine, rational thought vanished like an early morning mist under the assault of the midday sun.

Complete surrender was imminent. . . .

My Nextel rang, shattering the moment like a hammer on fine crystal.

“Damn,” I cursed as I wondered if the thing had a built-in blood pressure monitor.

Teddie sagged against me. “If I have to stop now, I’m going to explode.”

“That’s an old wives’ tale.”

Leaning back to get a good look at me, he arched one eyebrow and said, “I know I shouldn’t ask.” He paused while the phone rang a second time. “But
what
is an old wives’ tale?”

“That men will explode if they don’t have sex, thereby doing damage to vital organs.”

The phone rang a third time as Teddie stared at me. He looked as if he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. “Maybe so, but I’m going to have the damndest case of blue balls you ever saw.”

Blue balls—that didn’t sound good. I decided retreat was the better part of valor—especially since I was already in over my head.
“You’re going to have to answer the thing. I can’t seem to move my arms,” I calmly explained. “It could be about The Big Boss. If it’s not important, get rid of them . . . quickly.”

He narrowed his eyes as he ripped the offending device from its carrier at my hip. “Gladly.” Flipping it open he said, “Ms. O’Toole is taking some personal time and unless you’ve nicked a major artery or body parts are falling off, she’ll have to talk to you later—much later.”

Teddie listened for a moment and his grin vanished. “Oh, I see . . . Yes, sir . . . Right away.” Slowly, he closed the phone.

My heart stopped at the look on his face.

“That was Dr. Knapp. Apparently, The Big Boss had another incident during one of the tests. They had to use the paddles to bring him back.” Hastily, Teddie helped me shrug into my shirt and started closing the buttons as he talked. “They have him prepped for surgery, but he refuses to go. He’s insisting on talking to you first—face-to-face.”

Finished with the buttons, I tucked in my shirttail and caught a quick glance in the mirror. Unfortunately, I looked like a woman suffering from
coitus interruptus
, but it would have to do. “For Chris-sake, he’s prepped for surgery? And he won’t go until he talks to me? Face-to-face? Is he crazy?”

AT
the wheel of the Ferarri, Teddie seemed intent on breaking multiple land-speed records as he turned north on Rainbow, a long stretch of straight road, and floored it. My fingers drummed on the armrest, my heart pounded. The night still held the warmth of the day, but my skin felt cold and clammy.

In full coping mode, I asked myself what the worst-case scenario would be. If I could handle that, then I could handle the problem.

Okay, worst case—The Big Boss didn’t make it.

A few seconds of mulling that over and I realized I was up to my eyebrows in quicksand—I couldn’t handle a world without The Big Boss. Totally impossible.

So he had to make it.

“Can’t you go any faster,” I shouted above the whine of the engine, knowing Teddie was doing his best, but I had to do something.

Instead of answering, Teddie reached over and squeezed my hand.

I hated being out of control.

Control? Who was I kidding? I couldn’t make The Big Boss healthy, I couldn’t force Felicia Reilly to roll over on Irv Gittings . . . hell, I couldn’t even find time between phone calls to have some meaningful sex. My life was running me—a sad state of affairs, yet I didn’t seem to be able to do anything about it.