Luck Be a Lady - Cathie Linz [39]
He rolled his eyes.
“And the only talking you did was to accuse me of plotting the shotgun wedding with Pepper,” she said. “That did not help the situation.”
“I’ll tell you what didn’t help the situation. You offering to pay a thousand dollars not to marry me.”
“I can’t stay here forever. I’ve got a flight to catch.”
“Like I don’t?” he said.
“We wouldn’t be in this mess if your car hadn’t broken down.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“You are unbelievable. The truth is we wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t insisted on leaving Las Vegas in the first place,” he said.
“I didn’t know we were heading for a brothel.”
“Would that info have made any difference?”
“No, probably not,” she said. “I can’t believe they locked us up in here!” She kicked the door in frustration.
“That’s a good way to break a toe,” he said, unimpressed with her temper tantrum.
“They didn’t even let us eat breakfast before they arrested us. My stomach is growling.”
“Get over it.”
“Get over it? That’s your way of being supportive?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, it stinks,” she said. “That is not supportive.”
“We could make out.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “What?”
He shrugged. “Hey, you wanted supportive.”
“Sex isn’t supportive.”
“It is if you do it right.”
Megan was momentarily distracted by the image of having sex with him before she recovered enough to make a response. “I’m not speaking to you and I’m not making out with you.”
“You made out with me this morning.”
“I was asleep.”
“Not so asleep that you didn’t respond to me.”
“You grabbed me.”
“You didn’t protest.”
“I was asleep.”
“So you already said.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you accusing me of lying?”
“I’m accusing you of bending the truth. But I’m not really telling you anything you don’t already know. I can tell by that blush on your face that you know damn well you responded and you were awake. Very awake.”
Megan silently cursed her pale complexion. “That’s not a blush. I’m flushed because it’s hot in here.” She banged on the door. “Let us out!”
“I don’t think that’s going to help.”
“Well, I’m not going to just stand here and wait for help.” She looked around the room, searching for something to aid with their escape. The storage room held an odd assortment of things—from ceramic flowerpots to velvet paintings to stacks of quilts . . . and teacups. They had teacups! Or one special teacup. She was a “cupaholic.” She collected both orphaned teacups and saucers as well as just orphaned teacups without their matching saucers.
She couldn’t believe her eyes as she gazed upon the Wedgwood teacup and saucer she’d been searching for since her college days. Her breath caught and her heart beat faster. It couldn’t be.
She stood on tiptoe trying to reach the top shelf, where the teacup and saucer forlornly sat amid miscellaneous broken crockery. Her fingers were still a few inches away. She looked around trying to find something to stand on.
“What are you doing?” Logan said.
“I’m trying to reach that cup.”
“Why? Do you think it will unlock some secret passageway out of here?”
She refused to answer him. Instead she tugged a rickety chair from the other side of the room.
“Please tell me you’re not dumb enough to try and stand on that,” Logan said.
She lifted one foot, ready to step up when he swooped in from behind her to stop her. She wiggled against him. A bad move, because her bottom was pressed against the placket of his jeans and she could feel his arousal. She froze.
“I’ll get the damn cup for you,” he growled in her ear.
She shivered at the brush of his mouth against her skin.
He abruptly let her go and reached around her to retrieve the teacup from the shelf.
“Careful,” she said as she saw the dainty china in his large hands.
“If I was careful, I’d have stayed in Las Vegas,” he muttered. “Hell, if I was careful I would have stayed in Chicago.”
“No, you wouldn’t have. You had to help Buddy.”
“And I’ve never been accused of being careful. Here.” He shoved the cup and saucer at her.
She cradled them in her hands and stared down at