Debbi Rawlins - The Honeymoon That Wasn't

She sighed softly, and then tilted her head back to look at him. “Come on. What did she want?”

No way was he getting into this conversation with her. He couldn’t without bad-mouthing her mother, and he wasn’t doing that. “Why isn’t your brother being groomed to be a judge?”

Her lips parted slightly as she hesitated, and if they were anywhere else, he would’ve accepted the invitation. And if she didn’t quit soon…

“Cody is far too mercenary, hardly civil servant material.” She laughed softly and swept a quick glance around. “Oops, did I say that?”

Civil servant? That stopped Tony. He hadn’t thought of it that way. “Defense attorneys make more money, huh?”

“Oh, please.” She chuckled and then squinted at him. “Are you kidding?”

He shrugged. “How would I know?”

“Defense attorneys can make oodles of money. Especially defending white-collar clients.” She whispered. “My brother’s favorite kind of criminal.”

“What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

“I wasn’t referring to the innocent ones.” She paused thoughtfully. “Although they usually end up racking up a lot more legal fees.”

“You’re so cute when you’re being materialistic.”

“Hey.” She lightly pinched his shoulder. “I was being analytical.”

“Oh.” He smiled and brought her closer so that she pressed her cheek against the base of his throat. His lips were touching her forehead. This is where he wanted her. Not leaning away from him analyzing the legal profession.

Besides, the dance floor had gotten more crowded. Good for him. It gave him an excuse to draw her closer. Bad for her in that she could be overheard and, since half the people there were either lawyers, judges or somehow related, she’d be better off zipping it.

Her arms tightened around his neck and she rubbed her cheek against his jaw. His body immediately reacted. If the song suddenly ended and he had to walk back to the table, he’d be screwed.

“Hello, Dakota.”

She lifted her head and smiled at the distinguished-looking older man dancing beside them with a much younger blond woman. “Hi, Judge Hawkins.”

He nodded to Tony and then said to Dakota, “We’re not in the courtroom. I think it would be okay to call me David.”

“That would feel a little too strange.”

He smiled, nodded and they moved apart, but not before the man gave Tony a sizing up.

Tony ignored him. “Is that his wife?”

“Nope. He’s divorced. Three times now.”

“He looks old enough to be her father.”

“Probably is. He likes them young.”

He obviously liked Dakota, but Tony didn’t point that out. The song wound down and he hoped like hell the band would stick to a slow beat. They did and everyone on the dance floor stayed. Several other couples crowded in and damned if they didn’t all seem to know Dakota. Their once-private area was getting to be as bad as Grand Central Station.

When it was announced that it was time to cut the cake, he didn’t even mind. Maybe after that they could get out of here. Even if he and Dakota just rode to the airport together, alone, no parents, no coworkers, and the evening ended there, he’d be okay with that. Not happy, but okay.

Glasses of champagne were passed out while Dallas and Eric got ready to cut the cake. Dallas got a little impatient when the photographer kept trying to reposition them and she dug into the cake with her fingers and offered the piece to Eric. Everyone laughed. Except Mrs. Shea, but that was no surprise.

In Tony’s experience, shortly after the cake was cut the bride and groom usually left the reception. That meant he and Dakota would be leaving, too. He glanced at his watch. No matter, they’d have to leave within half an hour to get to LaGuardia in time for their flight.

An older, distinguished-looking man had intercepted Dakota right before the cake cutting, and Tony scanned the room locating her in time to see her drain a flute of champagne and exchange it for another. She caught his eye and smiled, then raised the glass to him before gulping down half the contents.

What the hell? Was she on some kind of mission to get plastered? Maybe she didn’t like flying? A lot of people didn’t. Better that be the reason than anything personal. He wanted to be with her this weekend, but not if she had to get loaded to be with him.

“We’re going to have to leave soon.” Dallas dabbed at the white frosting clinging to the corner of her mouth. “Where’s Dakota?”

“Over there.”

“Ah, she’s talking to Judge Mayfield and his wife. She shouldn’t be long. We’ll meet at the door in fifteen minutes. Eric is having the limo brought around front.”

“Is she okay?” he asked.

Dallas smiled “Yes. Trust me.”

That’s about all he could do. “I’ll be ready.” His gaze went to Dakota.

She was laughing at something the judge said, her face slightly flushed. She tossed her hair back over her shoulder, the honey-colored strands catching the light from the chandelier. The red dress shimmered as she moved, emphasizing the tempting curve of her backside. Yeah, he was ready all right. He had been from the first time he saw her.

“WHO EVER HEARD of a limo without champagne?” Dakota sighed, hiked her dress up to her thighs and then swung her legs up on the seat where she sat opposite Tony. Predictably his gaze went straight to the hem of her dress, and then ran down the length of her legs. “We’ll simply have to have the driver stop for some.” She lifted her fist to knock on the dividing glass, but Tony lunged from his seat and captured her wrist.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink?” He got up and joined her on her seat, using his hip to nudge her legs aside.

“Excuse me?” She indignantly lifted her chin, and slightly slurred her words then asked, “Do you think I’m drunk?”

He hesitated, exhaling in exasperation, and she had to really struggle to keep a straight face. “Look, we can’t stop. We’ll miss our plane.”

“Plane? What plane?”

He stared at her. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Of course I’m kidding.” She pulled her hem up a little higher and used her pointed toes to trace a path across his back. “Remind me.”

“Oh, God,” he muttered, passing a hand over his face, and then covering his mouth and exhaling loudly.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Why are you still holding my wrist?”

“What? Oh, sorry.”

As soon as he let go, she knocked on the dividing glass.

“Yes, ma’am?” The driver’s voice immediately came over the intercom.

Tony pressed the response button. “Sorry, my mistake. We’re fine.”

“Hey, I wanted—”

Tony cut her off with a brief kiss, and then whispered, “When we get on the plane you can have all the champagne you want.”

She slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. “What if I want something else?”

His breath warm and uneven against her cheek, he said, “Such as?”

She shifted so that her hip rubbed him right where it counted, and he tensed. She made him wait a few seconds and then whispered, “Chocolate.”

“Ah…” He chuckled softly. “When we get to the airport you can have that, too.”

“For now I’ll settle for a kiss.”

“You will, huh?”

She nodded, and then waited, surprised by the uncertainty in his eyes. Maybe it was a trick of the shadows, or maybe he didn’t want to take advantage of her because he thought she was drunk. The idea softened her and she tightened her arms around his neck, bringing him close enough that their noses touched. She slanted her head and met his lips.

His reluctance lasted all of a second before he kissed her back, going down with her when she laid back against the cushioned seat. The tinted dividing window prevented the driver from seeing anything and it would be easy to get carried away. Especially with Tony’s broad chest pressed to her breasts, his arousal growing against her lower belly. But they were too close to the airport and if she really wanted to torment him, now was the time.

He’d conspired with Dallas and deserved a helping of torture. Just a little before they got down to the good stuff, she reminded herself, when he parted her lips with his tongue and her determination started to evaporate. She moved her left thigh to rub his hard-on and he groaned against her mouth.

She hadn’t planned on torturing herself, too, but every pore in her body had come alive, her nipples so ripe they ached, and it was a good thing she’d opened her eyes in time to see the first sign for LaGuardia. Knowing they were about to be interrupted, she reached for his zipper. And then secretly smiled when he groaned, and stilled her hand.

“THE CAPTAIN HAS turned off the seat belt sign and you’re free to move around the cabin. However, if you remain in your seat, we ask that you keep your seat belt fastened. Thank you.”

The flight attendant had barely finished her spiel and Dakota reached for her seat belt.

Tony stopped her. “Where are you going?”

She gave him a sleepy smile and twisted around in her seat to face him. “Nowhere.”

Neither of them had a coat so he’d given her his jacket to wear over the dress but this particular position gave him a sneak preview that he didn’t need right now. She’d gotten him so damn worked up in the limo that he didn’t trust his cock anymore.

Getting checked in had cooled him off. Replaying the scene in his head helped do it again. The ticket agent looked as if she thought he was kidnapping Dakota. Fortunately she pulled it together long enough to provide her identification and tell everyone who’d listen that they were on their honeymoon.

“Where are we going?” she asked, and promptly covered a yawn.

“Dakota. You know where we’re going. Dallas talked to you, remember?”

She blinked at him. “Sort of.”

God, he didn’t like this. He cleared his throat. “What exactly do you remember?”

“She packed a bag for me, right?”

He nodded.

“Did she remember my toothbrush?” She yawned again. “My electric one.”

“I’m sure she did.”

“I think I’ll take a nap now.”

“Good idea.”

She shifted so that she could lay her head on his shoulder, and with one hand he shook out a blanket the flight attendant had given them earlier. He draped it over her, and she snuggled closer.

Man, he sure hoped Dallas knew what she was doing. She swore Dakota wasn’t drunk. Just a little tipsy. That she understood exactly where she was going. And who she was with. Because if she didn’t, this weekend or any chance they might have had was going to be so messed up.

“THANKS, OTIS. I’ll take it from here.”

“May I get you some ice, sir?”

Tony shook his head. “Nah, we’re okay.” He tipped the bellman three times what he normally would, hoping the guy didn’t call security. Or worse, the police. All the way up on the elevator ride, he’d eyed Tony as if he were Jack the Ripper. Not that he blamed the older man. The way Dakota was acting, everyone from the flight attendant to the cab driver had to be wondering if Tony had drugged her.

He’d practically had to hold her up just to get her off the plane. And then she was so disoriented she kept asking where she was up until three minutes ago when they’d arrived at the suite.

“Do I have any clothes?” Dakota asked, yawned and then stretched, before sinking onto the couch.

Otis stopped on his way to the door and slowly turned around. “May I assist you in any way, miss?” he asked solemnly, his gaze steadily on her and deliberately away from Tony.