The Texan's Tiny Secret. Peggy Moreland

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The Texan's Tiny Secret - Peggy  Moreland

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her heel. She was going to the dedication to prove a point…both to herself and Gil Riley.

      They were totally unsuitable for each other.

      She had known he wasn’t the man for her from the moment she’d seen his picture on a billboard and felt the first flutter of attraction. That realization was confirmed the evening he’d slipped into the kitchen at the party she’d catered and she’d experienced firsthand his particular brand of heart-fluttering charm. And she’d had her nose all but rubbed in their unsuitability when he’d stood in her living room and kissed her senseless.

      Yet, in spite of the obviousness of their unsuitability, Gil remained clueless…and persistent. But Suzy was willing to take whatever steps necessary to prove to him what she’d already ascertained, even if it meant possibly exposing herself to the public eye. Prior to going to the dedication, she’d carefully weighed all the dangers and convinced herself that she could conceal her identity from the unsuspecting guests. It was a private party, after all, thus the press wouldn’t be present. Besides, she had chosen a disguise so outlandish, her own mother would have trouble recognizing her!

      Straightening, she wiggled her hips to ease the body-hugging spandex fabric of her black micro-mini skirt back into place. She spotted the entrance to the new wing just ahead of her, and a smug smile curved her lips as strains of Mozart’s “Moonlight Sonata” played by a violinist drifted out to her. She could just see the expressions on the faces of the stodgy, stiff-necked guests when she made her entrance. She knew she and Gil Riley were unsuitable…and, before the night was over, so would he.

      Tossing over her shoulder the long tresses of the red wig she’d chosen to wear for the evening, she headed for the entrance.

      “Excuse me, miss.”

      Suzy stopped and glanced to her right. A prune-faced woman stood at the entry, dressed in a pink slap-me-if-it-isn’t-a-grandmother-of-the-bride silk shantung suit. Suzy arched a brow—the one she’d adhered a rhinestone to its end. “Yes?”

      The woman lifted her chin, looking down her nose at Suzy in disapproval. “This is a private party, by invitation only.”

      “Yeah, I know.” Hiding a smile, Suzy glanced over the roomful of guests. “I’m supposed to meet my date here.” She caught a glimpse of Gil standing with a group of distinguished-looking men and looking positively mouth watering himself in a black tux and silk crewneck, off-white sweater. “There he is now.” She lifted a hand. “Hey, Governor!” she shouted, waving her hand over her head. “Over here! I forgot my invitation, and this chick won’t let me in.”

      Gil glanced her way—as did nearly everyone else in the room. Seeing this as the perfect opportunity to prove her point, Suzy gave the deep vee of her sequined halter top a tug closer to her naval—silently thanked God for double-sided tape—then cocked a hip and crooked her finger.

      A hush fell over the room. Even the violinist stopped playing. Though embarrassment burned through her as the crowd openly stared, Suzy kept her expression sulky and her posture slutty, holding her breath while she waited for Gil to turn his back on her, refusing to acknowledge her as an acquaintance, much less as his date. Once he did, she promised herself, she was out of there, point proven.

      She watched him murmur something to the men he was standing with, then, to her amazement, he headed her way. Was that a smile twitching at his lips? she thought in dismay. By the time he reached her, he was laughing fully.

      The prune-faced woman hovered nearby, wringing her hands. “I’m so sorry, Governor. I tried to tell her the party was by invitation only.”

      Gil looked down at Suzy, his eyes filled with amusement. “It’s all right,” he said, and offered her his arm. “She’s my date.”

      Suzy slipped her arm through his and, unable to resist, tossed the wide-eyed woman an I-told-you-so smirk as Gil escorted her into the room and toward the buffet table.

      “You really know how to make an entrance.”

      She looked up at him, all innocence. “An entrance? Me?”

      He seared her with a look from the top of her trailer-trash hairdo to the tips of her scarlet-woman painted toenails. His lips quirked in a smile as he returned his gaze to hers. “Yeah, you.” He unwound his arm from hers, picked up a plate from the buffet table and handed it to her, then selected one for himself. “But what I’m wondering is,” he said, as he levered thin slices of smoked salmon onto first her plate, then his, “who you’re trying to fool with that getup.” He glanced her way and arched a brow. “Want to tell me about it?”

      This wasn’t going at all as she’d planned, Suzy reflected miserably as she fixed a smile on her face and shook the hand of yet another guest Gil introduced her to. Although she had succeeded in shocking nearly every person at the dedication with her trailer-trash hairdo and slutty outfit, her appearance hadn’t seemed to faze or embarrass Gil at all. In fact, he’d treated her as if she were visiting royalty, insisting upon escorting her around the room and introducing her to what seemed an endless stream of people.

      And if she’d had any clue she was going to have to march a country mile at the stupid dedication, she sure as heck wouldn’t have worn these four-inch spiked heels!

      Wincing, she braced a hand against his arm and lifted a foot to readjust the high-heeled sandal’s strap, in hopes of easing the ache in her arch.

      “Shoes hurting your feet?”

      She glanced up, saw the amusement in his eyes and quickly dropped her hand from his arm and her foot to the floor. “No.”

      He bit back a smile. “Liar.” He caught her elbow and guided her toward the entrance. “Let’s get out of here.”

      “Suzy?”

      At the sound of her name, Suzy stopped and turned, dragging Gil to a stop, as well. Her eyes widened when she saw her friend, Penny Thompson, hurrying toward her. “Penny!” she cried in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

      Laughing, Penny grabbed her hands. “Me? What are you doing here?”

      “I asked first.” Suzy shifted her gaze higher, as a tall, handsome man stepped up beside her friend. “Don’t tell me,” she said dryly. “Let me guess. The Cyber Cowboy is a major contributor.”

      Grinning, Erik Thompson, Penny’s new husband and the owner of Cyber Cowboy International, looped an around his wife’s waist. “Okay, I won’t tell you.” He bent to drop a kiss on Suzy’s cheek, then straightened, choking on a laugh as he got a good look at her attire. “I thought girls like you hung out on street corners.”

      Batting her eyelashes, Suzy sidled up to him and dragged a finger down the front of his tuxedo shirt. “Why, when all the johns with money are right in here?”

      Penny slapped her hand away. “Watch it, sister. He’s taken.”

      Laughing, Suzy fluffed her hair. “That’s the kind of man I like best.”

      “I’ll have to remember that.”

      Having forgotten all about Gil, Suzy shot him a frown as he joined them. “Trust me. It wouldn’t help your case any.”

      Chuckling, Erik stuck out a hand. “Hello, Governor. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

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