“What’s the matter with you?” he said under his breath, but she had no idea what she’d done.
“I—I don’t know.”
Before the senator could respond, Mitch appeared at her side. He held a hand out for him to shake and her father had no choice but to let go of her arm.
“Senator Cavanaugh, I’m so glad you could finally make it.” He was all smiles but his words had bite. He put an arm protectively around her shoulders and asked, “Is there a problem?”
“Yes, there’s a problem. Lexi looks awful. Her skin is pale and she’s obviously lost weight.”
“You think so?” Mitch asked, looking down at her.
“I know my daughter, Mr. Brody, and I know something isn’t right.”
Sudden fear gripped her. With that invaluable senatorial support in mind, what if Mitch decided to break down and tell her father the truth? Instead, he looked at Lexi with one of those sizzling smiles and said, “She looks damned good to me.” Then right in front of her father, he lowered his head and brushed his lips against hers, so soft and gentle and sweet that her knees went weak.
He eased back, and with his eyes locked on hers said, “Excuse us, Senator, but I’d like to dance with my wife.”
Her father’s stunned expression as Mitch took her hand and led her away gave Lexi far more satisfaction than it should have. When they were back on the dance floor, he said, “What the hell kind of man tells his daughter she looks awful at her wedding reception?”
“I probably looked happy.”
“Isn’t that the point?”
“I think it makes him feel threatened because when I’m happy about anything, he always says or does something to sabotage it.”
“He’s your father. He’s supposed to want you to be happy.”
Lexi shook her head. “The entire time I was growing up he talked about how he wished he’d had a son, but my mom died before they had the chance. He never said he resented me for being born a girl, but it was obvious he felt that way. As I got older, he started to talk about me getting married and giving him lots of grandsons. Like he only saw me as a baby-breeding machine or something.”
“I guess that explains why he was so anxious to marry you off.”
“Exactly.” But he didn’t want a grandson so badly that he would tolerate her being an unwed mother. If she had a boy, she honestly wouldn’t put it past him to try to take the baby and raise it himself.
“Is he still looking at us?” Mitch asked.
She looked past his shoulder and saw that her father was holding a drink and talking to Sebastian Huntington, but his eyes were on Lexi and Mitch.
“Yes, he’s still looking.”
A devilish smile curled the corners of Mitch’s mouth and she was sure that any second he might sprout horns. “Then let’s give him a good reason to feel threatened.”
Before she could ask what he planned to do, he lowered his head and locked his lips with hers, kissing her so passionately, so deeply, she could swear she felt him hit her tonsils. She might have been embarrassed but her brain had ceased to function the instant his lips touched hers. When he finally pulled away, she was breathing hard and gripping his suit jacket with both hands.
“How did he like that?” Mitch asked, looking a little breathless himself.
She looked over just in time to see her father walk out the door. “Apparently he didn’t, because he just left.”
“Good riddance.”
She looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you for rescuing me.”
“You owe me big time,” he said. “And I would be willing to accept sexual favors as payment.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but before she had the chance he said, “Relax, I’m just kidding.”
Oddly enough, she’d been about to ask, What would you like me to do? Instead she said, “Not that it wasn’t fun to see my father knocked down a peg or two, but if you want his support you should really be careful what you say to him. He likes to play hardball, and he enjoys a good fight, but not at the expense of his pride.”
“If getting his support means kissing his ass, I’m not sure I want it anymore.”
Her breath caught in her throat. If Mitch didn’t want her father’s support, then why would he stay married to her? And if he left her, what would she do then? Crawl back to her father and beg him to take her in? What choice would she have?
“Of course, if I blow this, Lance will probably kill me,” Mitch continued. “So, I don’t really have much choice.”
The surge of relief she felt was so complete she nearly collapsed. She couldn’t help but feel she’d just dodged a bullet.
Mitch wasn’t usually much of a drinker, but he had figured the more intoxicated he was, the less inclined he would be to attack Lexi the instant they stepped in the front door. And what a brilliant plan that had been. While he had managed to keep his hands to himself, he’d been lying in bed awake for the past hour staring at the ceiling with a boner that just wouldn’t quit. But what did he expect when he spent half the night with his hands all over her and the other half with his tongue down her throat?
On the bright side, they seemed to have everyone at that party convinced that they were happy as clams and having the time of their lives.
He rolled over and the sensation of the sheets sliding against his hard-on was almost enough to set him off. He could always take care of matters himself, but how sad was that? Very, considering he had a gorgeous wife just down the hall and he couldn’t make love to her.
Couldn’t or wouldn’t? He was the one making the rules. He had told her that their marriage wouldn’t be more than business, and he was beginning to think that as far as dumb moves went, that just about topped them all.
He couldn’t help but wonder if Lexi was lying in her bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling as sexually frustrated as he was.
He heard a noise coming from the first floor, the screech of the kettle whistling. He sat up in bed. Though normally boiling water wouldn’t cause him alarm, he knew Lexi could find a way to turn even making tea into a disaster of biblical proportions.
He jumped out of bed, threw on his robe, and headed down to the kitchen to stop her before she set something on fire. What was she doing up at 1:00 a.m. anyway?
When he got to the kitchen, the flame under the kettle was off and Lexi was opening and closing cupboards. She was wearing that same long silk gown she’d worn in Greece, and all he could think about was getting her out of it.
“Looking for something?” he asked.
She spun around, startled. “What are you doing here?”
Her breasts swelled enticingly against the sheer fabric and he could see the rosy outline of her nipples. Maybe it was his imagination, but her chest looked fuller than it had just a week ago.
“Last I checked, I live here,” he said. “What are you doing?”
“I couldn’t sleep, so I came down to get something to drink.”
“Were you looking for something?” he asked.
“Herbal tea,” she said. “Sometimes it helps me sleep. I thought I might make a cup. Do you have any?”
“In the narrow cupboard above the coffeemaker.” He watched, mesmerized once again by the sway of her hips under that silk as she crossed the kitchen and opened the cupboard. “Top shelf in the back.”
She