Notorious (2 page)

“Arch is fine,” he said gently, wanting to reassure her of that much, at least. “In perfect health.”

“I'm not surprised,” she said with a grimace, although she sounded relieved. “He wouldn't tolerate the presence of an infirmity.” She straightened her shoulders. “Well, now that we're all caught up, I'd better be going. I have an appointment.”

He'd nearly forgotten where they were standing. Before he'd stopped her she'd been about to go inside this dance club. He had a sinking sensation that he knew why. “An appointment?” he asked, trying to keep the question casual.

“Yes. An interview.”

“Oh.” His gut churned. A job interview. The centerfold picture flashed through his mind again and he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was trying to get a job dancing on the stage in there. She planned to take off most of her clothes and twirl those little tassel gizmos for the men who patronized this club.

He eyed the entrance once more and noticed chipped paint around the door frame. The rock music coming from inside sounded more sinister than it had a moment ago, and he heard loud male laughter. He hoped this place was a step down from what she'd been doing before and not a step up. But whichever direction she was headed, it looked like the wrong road to him.

“Listen, I'm already late, but it's been fun seeing you,” she said. “What a coincidence, huh? Take care of yourself, Noah.” She turned toward the shadowy entrance.

Without taking time to think about it, he grabbed her arm. “Don't go in there.”

She glanced up at him in surprise. “Why not?”

“There have to be better ways to make a living.” His breath hitched. Her bare arm felt warm and smooth beneath his fingers. She had wonderful skin, he remembered now. And she was planning to show way too much of it to strangers.

With her free hand she pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head. Then she gazed at him as if fascinated by this turn of events. “What do you think I do for a living?”

“I'm…I'm not sure, and to tell the truth I'd rather not know. I'm just asking you not to go for that interview. I've been in places like this. I know how they expect the women to—”

“Do you, now?”

He released her arm as if her skin might burn him. “Damn it, Keely. You know what I'm talking about.”

“I'm not sure I do. I'm still getting used to the concept of Noah Garfield in a topless bar. Did someone trick you into going in?”

“No!” The woman sure had a way of getting his goat. “I went in under my own steam. I'm not a saint.”

A slow smile spread over those peach-colored lips. “Couldn't prove it by me.”

“Look, Keely, I know we haven't always seen eye to eye on things. Years ago you seemed determined to head in a certain direction, and you wouldn't listen to anybody who tried to talk you out of it. But I'm asking you right here, right now, to reconsider. Maybe you met me on this street for a reason. Maybe it's time to think about alternatives.”

She folded her arms and looked at him. Mischief lurked in her eyes. “Let's make sure I understand. Instead of going inside and getting a job wiggling my ta-tas for the customers, you want me to reform and go into a more respectable line of work. Is that the gist of it?”

“You're making fun of me, but yes, that's the gist of it.”

The gleam of devilment grew brighter. “You want to save me from myself.”

“Aw, hell, Keely.” He figured she was going to roast him for this attempt to do the right thing. “It's not that topless dancing is so terrible. I know you think I'm some sort of prude, but I'm not. And I understand that you've always wanted to kick the status quo in the butt. But isn't this getting a little old? I should think you'd have moved on to something else by now.”

“I'm not even thirty!”

“Damn close.”

“Ten whole months away, buster.”

“See, it's the perfect time to make a change.” He was thinking she looked years younger than thirty. Because they'd grown up together he knew exactly how old she was, but a stranger would think she was in her early twenties. No doubt her body would look good on stage for a long time to come, but he didn't intend to say that. He didn't even want to think that.

“And what sort of job should I do?” she asked, tapping the toe of her sandal against the pavement.

“I'm not sure.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Now that he'd jumped into this white-knight routine, he didn't know how to proceed. “Maybe we could kick around some ideas.”

“And when could we do that? You have a wedding to attend, as I recall, and I need to make a living.”

And there was the heart of the matter. If she was looking for a job, she was probably short on cash. He couldn't very well tell a woman like Keely to forget about the money she'd make dancing topless and take a job flipping burgers instead. She'd laugh in his face. He wasn't going to convert her to a different lifestyle during one conversation on the street corner.

He stalled, trying to think what to do. “How long have you been in Vegas?”

“Just got here yesterday.”

“Okay.” He thought quickly. One step at a time. “I understand the economic realities. You just came to town and you need a job, but could you hold off for the weekend so we could talk about it? I could cover your expenses for the next few days.”

“You mean, pay for my room and board? I don't think so.”

“Then how about this? Cancel your room reservation and move in with me for the weekend. Would that save you enough so you wouldn't have to work right away?”

“You want me to share your hotel room?” She eyed him with interest.

That look triggered a vivid memory. She'd kissed him with the passion of a woman that night in the barn, even at the tender age of sixteen. “Strictly as friends,” he said quickly. “It's a minisuite. I'll take the couch and you can have the bed. This isn't a proposition, Keely.”

“Are you sure?” The mischief had returned to her green eyes. “I realize you're not in the habit of kicking over the traces, but we're not in Saguaro Junction anymore. No one from back home has to hear about this. And we all know what a naughty girl I am.”

Warmth flooded through him. She really had a knack for saying exactly what would bring a reaction. “That's the kind of thinking you need to get away from,” he said. “Life is about more than sex.” At the moment he couldn't think what else it was about, but he'd get his bearings again soon.

“Let me make sure I understand. You're inviting me to stay in your room for the weekend, but you have no intention of us fooling around. Instead, you're going to do some career counseling for me.”

“That's right.” Not that fooling around with Keely didn't hold some appeal. But she apparently thought that's all she was good for, and he didn't want to reinforce that notion.

She frowned in confusion. “I asked you if you had a wife back home and you said no. But is there a serious girlfriend?
Because I can imagine you would be totally loyal once you committed yourself to somebody.”

“No serious girlfriend.” Come to think of it, he hadn't even had a date in months.

“Noah, are you gay?”

He choked. As he was coughing and sputtering, he shook his head and gasped out his denial.

She ticked off her conclusions on the tips of her fingers. “You're not committed to anyone, you're not gay, and you don't want to have sex with me, even if no one back home would ever find out.”

“That's right.” He did want to have sex with her, always had, but that was a white lie he could live with.

“Then you surely must be a saint who has dropped down out of the sky to save me from my wicked ways. Okay, I accept.”

He cleared his throat and tried to look more confident than he felt. “That's great.” Now that she'd pointed out to him that only a saint could be expected to resist her, he'd begun to think this whole idea was doomed. But if he could somehow find the strength to keep his hands off her, then maybe she'd develop a new image of herself. And that was worth doing. After all, his brother was marrying her sister. She would be family soon.

“We should probably go pick up your stuff,” he said. “Is your hotel far from here?”

She looked suddenly worried. “Uh, the thing is, they, um…lost my luggage. You know how that happens. I don't have any stuff.”

“Oh.” So it was worse than he thought. Obviously she was making up the story about lost luggage, so that must mean she was staying in some fleabag motel and didn't want him to know it. Worse yet, her belongings were pitiful enough to be embarrassing to her. As together as she looked now, the outfit she wore was probably the only decent thing she owned.

Knowing that fact renewed his resolve to pull her out of
this nosedive she was in. “Okay, then!” he said with more heartiness than the situation called for. He sounded like a damn used-car salesman. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Let's walk on back to my hotel. Then I can advance you a little money if you want to go shopping for a few clothes later.”

“We'll see about that. But before we leave here I want to duck inside and let them know I won't be keeping the appointment. I don't want a black mark beside my name, in case I need to come back someday.”

“I'll go with you.”

She smiled at him. “I'd rather you didn't.”

“Why not?”

“In this neighborhood, if some guy is tagging around after a woman, looking like he's keeping track of her, people might think he's her pimp.”

As he wondered how she'd become so knowledgeable about such things, ice water shot through his veins. “Keely, please tell me that you've never—”

“No. I've never. I may be a naughty girl, but I've never been that naughty.”

He sighed with relief.

“Yet.”

His muscles tensed all over again and he opened his mouth to deliver another warning.

Keely's musical laugh cut him off. “Relax. I'm kidding. You were around for the first nineteen years of my life. You should know by now how much I love to tease people. Especially people like you.” She fluttered a hand at him. “Hold down the sidewalk. I'll be back before you know it.”

He watched her walk through the entrance into the cavelike interior of the club. That Keely. She always could get him going.

Then he blinked as if coming out of a trance.
He had just arranged to spend the weekend sleeping in a hotel suite with Keely Branscom
.

What the hell had he been thinking? He'd arrived in this place feeling on edge and sexually deprived. Now he'd invited the sexiest woman he'd ever known to stay with him in extremely close quarters. Less than four hours into his Vegas stay, and the city had him right where it wanted him.

K
EELY HAD MADE
a career of acting on impulse. This particular impulse—to play along with Noah's outrageous plan to save her—could be lots of fun, especially if she turned the tables and took him for a walk on the wild side, instead. So why this sudden attack of nerves?

Maybe she was still dealing with the news that her sister and Jonas were getting married. That situation would definitely take some getting used to. Yeah, it was the sudden word of their wedding that had her spooked.

Surely she wasn't still into Noah the way she had been at sixteen. And seducing him here in Vegas would be an awesome way to get revenge for the way he'd brusquely pushed her away at that tender age. But in order for that revenge to be sweet, she had to be certain she was completely over him. Well, she was. Of course she was.

Shaking off her uneasiness, she walked into the sparsely populated bar and glanced at the blond woman gyrating on the small stage. No, that wasn't the one. Her interview subject was a brunette.

“Would you like a table?” A thin man dressed in a white shirt and tight black pants appeared at her elbow.

“No, thanks. I'm Keely Branscom and I'm here to talk with Suzanne.”

“Oh!” The man grew more animated. “You're the reporter from
Attitude!
She's in the back. Please sit down. I'll go get her.”

Keely pulled out a chair at the nearest round cocktail table
and sat. This might take longer than she figured. No doubt Noah would be outside having a conniption, thinking she was secretly filling out a job application. But she couldn't be rude and leave without speaking to Suzanne.

The sound system in the bar wasn't very good, but the blonde on the stage was an excellent dancer. Keely counted five men in the place, all of them with their attention glued to the stage. She'd love to believe they were admiring the skill of the performance, but after years of reporting on the guy/gal scene for
Attitude!
, she could reasonably conclude they were fixated on the dancer's chest instead of her footwork.

In general, a man's motivation was pretty simple, which was one reason she was so intrigued by Noah's offer to reform her. His motivation was more complex. She really believed he didn't intend for them to have sex. Well, he just might have to reevaluate that decision.

“Ms. Branscom?”

Keely glanced away from the stage and saw that a curvy brunette in purple spandex stood next to the table. Keely pushed back her chair. “Suzanne?”

“That's me.” Suzanne held out her hand.

Keely stood and shook her hand. She had to practically shout to be heard over the pounding music. “Please call me Keely. Listen, it turns out now isn't a very good time for me to do the interview, after all. I wonder if we could reschedule.”

“I guess so.” Suzanne raised her voice and leaned closer to Keely. “The only thing is, I have, like, this horrific exam coming up in my psych class, so I need to spend most of my free time, like, inhaling the textbook. And tonight I'm dancing.”

“Right.” Keely was glad they weren't conducting the interview like this. It would give her a headache in no time. She wasn't sure when she'd stopped loving loud music.

She quickly considered how to work around Suzanne's
schedule and her own interesting situation with Noah. He'd probably have some wedding-related thing going on tonight, so she might be able to slip over here.

“Do you get a break tonight?” she asked.

“Sure.” Suzanne raised her voice as the music's volume increased. “About ten-thirty!”

Keely had to shout, too. “Are you planning to study during your break?”

“Nah! I'll probably kick back! I only get about fifteen minutes!”

Blissfully, the music changed tempo and became softer. “If you're willing, I could do the interview then.” Keely couldn't get over how young Suzanne looked. Yet she was twenty-two, three years older than Keely had been when she'd posed for the centerfold.

“Tonight would be cool, but are you sure that's enough time?”

“Maybe not, but we'll get a start, anyway.”

Suzanne glanced over at the stage. “Joy, she'd like to be interviewed, too. She's not going to college, like me, but she's going to beauty school. Does that count?”

“Sure does. Anybody who's dancing to earn tuition fits into the article.”

“Cool. That's her on stage now.” Suzanne watched for a moment and unconsciously began to wiggle in time with the music. “She has some dynamite moves.”

“Yes, she does.”

“That guy over there in the black T-shirt is her boyfriend. I am, like, so jealous. He is totally hot.”

“He is?” Keely could only locate one person in a black T-shirt, and he didn't look like anything special. For one thing, she was getting sick of shaved heads and multiple piercings. And baggy pants did nothing for her these days, either. Plus, he looked more like a kid than a man.

“Yeah, he's awesome.” Suzanne gazed at him in rapture. “Totally.”

Keely glanced from Suzanne to the kid and reminded herself that this was her magazine's target audience. She needed to do a better job of relating. “He is pretty cute,” she said. Cute was as far as she would go. And cute didn't do it for her anymore, unfortunately.

But someone who did do it for her stood right outside, waiting. “Well, Suzanne, I'll see you tonight, then,” she said.

“Maybe Joy can come by so you can talk to her, too.”

“That would be great. Thanks.” Keely shook hands with Suzanne and hurried outside.

Noah was lounging against the side of the building, but he looked wary, not relaxed. He straightened and walked toward her. “I was beginning to wonder if something happened.”

“Sorry. It took a while to find the person I needed.” She gazed at him with new appreciation. Now here was an example of hot. His clothes might not be trendy, but they were classic turn-ons, at least for her. She'd grown up admiring the way a pearl-buttoned western shirt defined a man's broad shoulders and how smooth-fitting jeans defined even more interesting parts of his anatomy.

Noah looked mighty fine in that department. For years she'd dreamed of exploring the wonders so lovingly cradled by his Wranglers. From all indications he had a body built for serious sinning. Consequently he'd been a worthy challenge ever since she'd hit puberty.

But as luck would have it, when she'd gone for the gold that night in the barn, he'd turned her down. He hadn't been particularly gentle about it, either. For three years she'd tried to get even with him for that rejection, taking every opportunity to taunt him with what he'd missed. He hadn't cracked.

But she'd learned a few things since then, and they'd be sharing a hotel suite. It just might be Samson and Delilah time.

“You know, I've been thinking…” he said, his voice sounding tight.

Uh-oh. She lifted her gaze to his face and tried to look innocent. “About what?” He must have caught her ogling. She'd have to be more careful not to overplay her hand. Some men loved being checked out. Apparently it made this particular man nervous. She slipped on her sunglasses to give herself more leeway.

“Why don't I see if I can get you a room on the same floor?” he said. “You'd probably be more comfortable with that.”

Oh, he'd definitely caught her ogling. She had to take quick action. “No way, baby doll! I feel like enough of a charity case as it is! Tell you what, let's forget the whole thing.”

“No, no. We're not going to forget the whole thing.” He sighed. “Come on. The hotel's this way.”

So he had a place on the Strip. She would have liked that, too, but the magazine had booked her at one of the less expensive places downtown. Maybe when he was otherwise occupied, she'd head over there and pick up a few things.

She fell into step beside him. “You know what your problem is? You think too much.”

“Could be. But that's better than not thinking enough.”

“Ah. That would be me you're referring to, wouldn't it?”

His mouth twitched with amusement. “I didn't mean just you.”

“Oh, you probably did, but that's okay. I won't take offense. It you're talking levels of caution, on a scale of one to ten I'd be a minus fifteen.”

He laughed.

“You, on the other hand, would be a plus thirty.”

“You're exaggerating.”

“No, I'm not!” She felt great walking down the street with Noah. Because she stood five-eight in her bare feet and had generous breasts, not many men could make her feel small and delicate. Noah had the height and breadth of shoulder to carry it off. Maybe it wasn't politically correct to enjoy
that, but she did. She always had.
Always. Uh-oh. What if she wasn't over him?

“If I'm so damn cautious,” he said, “then why did I take up bull riding?”

“I thought about that. And it does indicate a streak of daring hiding in there somewhere.” She had to be over him, she decided. After all, it had been years.

“See?” He looked pleased with himself. “I can be daring if I want.”

“Yes, but you only have to maintain that daring for eight seconds or less. That's not a long time.” She kept up the banter, but inside she was scanning for evidence, trying to decide if she was still hooked on Noah.

“Oh, yes, it is a long time. When you're in the heat of the action, eight seconds is an eternity. A lifetime.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Well, I sure hope that's not your attitude when you make love. If so, your lady friends must be
very
frustrated.” There. If she could poke fun at him, then she was over him. Definitely.

He blushed. “We weren't talking about that.”

“I was.” That blush of his was so cute. The people she hung out with in L.A. were all pretty jaded when it came to sexual innuendos. Finding a man who could blush when he talked about sex was refreshing. And arousing.

He tugged his hat down lower over his eyes. “Well, I wasn't thinking about that particular subject, and you know it.”

But he was now, and that was her goal. If only she knew for certain she could pull off this caper without getting hurt herself. “The fact is, I have no idea what kind of lover you are, Noah. You're a conservative guy, so when you talk about eight seconds being an eternity, I can't help wondering if you think that's plenty of time for—”

“Of course it's not!” He was really red now.

She'd forgotten how adorable he could be when he was flustered. “Well, good. Glad to hear it. Because most women need a whole lot more than eight seconds to become thoroughly—”

“I'm aware of that! Now, could we please change the subject?”

“Sure. Be glad to.” She used to love teasing him like this. She loved it still. Probably too much, and she'd be wise to walk away from this whole setup. But then she'd never know if she could succeed in breaching his defenses. She had to know, no matter what it might cost her. And she was tough. She'd picked up the pieces before and could do it again. Damn the torpedoes. Full speed ahead.

“Thanks.” He sighed in apparent relief.

Little did he know there was no relief in sight. “Oh, there's a drugstore,” she said. “Would you mind if we stopped in there before we get to the hotel? I need a few things, and I'm sure they're more expensive in the hotel shops.”

“That's fine.” He sounded grateful to be doing something as harmless as shopping. “I guess you would need a toothbrush and…other stuff.”

“A big bottle of lotion, for one thing. I'd forgotten how desert heat affects my skin. Back on the ranch I had to practically take a bath in lotion, remember?”

“Can't say as I do.”

Liar
. “Oh, sure you do. You even commented about it one evening when I was on the front porch of Dad's house, slathering it all over my legs and arms. You said if I kept that up I'd slide right out of bed in the middle of the night.”

“Mmm.”

“My favorite is raspberry-scented, but they might not have that.” She peeked at him as they walked through the door into the air-conditioned store to see if any of what she'd said was registering. He looked more than a little agitated.

Two years ago she'd done an article on scent as an arousal factor. All the guys she'd interviewed rated scent very high, and most of them fondly remembered how former lovers had smelled like cinnamon, or lily of the valley, or in one instance, chocolate. She was counting on Noah having the same response, and she'd used raspberry-scented lotion ever since she'd turned fifteen. If she couldn't find any in the drugstore, she'd smuggle over the bottle she had in her hotel room.

But raspberry lotion wasn't her primary target in the drugstore. She could hardly wait for the moment when Noah discovered what she planned to stock up on.