“Course, I’m nothadres-ponemas,handsome like you.” Gould cupped his hands over his heart andbatted his lashes.
“Saul tells me all theshowgirlslove egg and butter men no matter what they look like.”
Gould’s sly jab hitits mark. Angered, yet unable to rearrange a mug or three, Shanesilently crushed his cigar in his hands. Ignoring the burning ashsifting through his fingers, Shanestood up.
“Where’re yougoing?” Gould asked, pouringhimselfanother round. “I wanna buy you a drink to celebrate our newpartnership.”
“To the men’sroom,” Shane held up his hands for inspection, “they’redirty.”
Gould’s gaze narrowed.“It gets like that some times. But no matter how dirty theyget, you never forget those same hands feed you.”
Gould’s innuendodidn’t fall on deaf ears. Shane chose not to acknowledge it. He turned on his heels then navigated his way past the main bar tocoat check. Halfway there, Shane realized he didn’t have theticket.
Bristling, Shane turnedabout. His luck couldn’t get any worse! Not only had Gouldruined his evening, but now he had to go groveling to a broad thatwanted nothing to do with him.
Shane ground his teeth asscanned the ballroom and dining area. It wasn’t too hard tofind trouble. It never looked so damn goodor had so much spunk.
As if he’d conjuredher, Celeste materialized from the crowd.In one hand she held a cocktail glass, in the other a bottle ofliquor.
Carefree,she nursed her drink in between bites of conversation with no one inparticular. She never stayed for long, but kept moving, avoidingcommitment.
A peach of a girl, she wasall-ripe and golden, like a piece of Bit-O-Honey one of his favoritepenny candies. Unconsciously swiping at his mouth, Shane imagined herskin tasting as sweet.
Her hair, which barelygrazed her shoulders, was as black as licorice just like her eyes.Cat eyes, they called them because they tipped upward slightly in thecorner and flecksof browntwinkled in them wheneverthe stage lights shifted.
Justwatching her made him feel alive as if jumpstarted by a sudden kickof electricity. The more he looked, the more he wanted.
Perplexed by his growinginterest, Shane frowned.Why her?
Celeste Newsome was agood-looking dame, but she wasn’t his type. No way, no how!Theywere like night and day.
Raised on a dirt farmoutside Chattanooga Tennessee, Shane preferred country girls, lookingto raise a family, take care of their man. Not a good time girl, whoprobably ate her man for breakfast.
Still, he couldn’tdeny the pump of adrenaline rushing through him at the prospect oftheir paths crossing again or the emotions she elicited in him. Forsome reason, she made him feel both carnal and protective. And forthe first time in his twenty-nine years, Shane wanted to take care ofsomeone other than himself.
Shane silently cursed hisluck. Celeste Newsome was a beautiful disaster he would be smart tosteer clear of. Unfortunately, he’d never been accused of beingEinstein.
“Hey Daddy Long-legs,you wanna dance?”
Shane tracked the nails onchalk–board whine to a bottle redhead barely reaching hisarmpit. He took in her garish bow-painted, thin lips and promptlydismissed her.
“I said do you wannadance?” shesqueaked, looping her arm throughhis.
“No,” Shane saidwithout taking his eyes off Celeste.
“Hells bells,Charlie!”Her bone grinding screech made him grit his teeth. “Youcame to pick up one of them shines,” she spat.
“What did you say?”Shane grabbed the woman’s hand and squeezed. “My nameisn’t Charlie.” He squeezed harder. “Andthe reason I’mhere is none of your business.”
“O-w-w-w,you’rehurting me,”the redhead whined. “Ididn’t mean anything by it. Please, mister, let me go.”
Shane didn’t botherwith watching the floozy scurry off. He had biggerfish to fry.
Properly sauced, Celeste wasin her element.
She flirted outrageouslywith anyone who found themselves lucky enough to cross her path. Shewooed them, charmed them with witty banter and plied them with sexualinnuendo. And when they fell under her spell, begged for some kindof commitment, mostly the overnight kind, she moved on to the next.
This washer scene and she had complete control of it, even Shane. Celestesmiled. She’d madehimlong before he’d starteddogging hertrail. Intruth, hewas part of the reason why she’d flirted so outrageously.
Unfortunately,many of her admirers couldn’t take no for an answer,particularly a set of handsome number runners with ties to the JerseyShore. Taking on both of them was tempting, but to her overtconsternation they paled in comparison to Shane.
In her mad dash to eludethem and her confounding attraction for a man she would be best toavoid, she ran into someone less appealing.
Instantlyrecognizing the woman in white,Celeste stiffened. The last time she’d heard hide or hair ofBeatrice Gerard, she and her all-colored troupe hadboardeda freighterbound forEurope, taking Celeste’s fiancé, Ralph,with her.
Not yetseeing her, Beatrice held courtover anentourage of ahalf a dozenor more. Elegantlydressed in an evening gown with dramatic split sleeves, herexaggeratedmovements caused the white silk to slide openand resemblethe wings of a moth.
Aside from Beatrice’sfinery, Celeste noted every single person in the woman’sentourage. Thankfully, Ralph wasn’t one of them and forthat shebreathed a sigh of relief. After all these years, she still wasn’tready to come face to face with her former beau.
“Is that you, CelesteNewsome? Oui,c’est toi. Ma Cherie,come here and give me a proper welcome.”
Beatricemotioned forher. She even hadthe nerve to open and close her hands as if Celeste were a babe.
Was Beatrice privy to theevents from five years ago?Wasthis exuberant display simply a show ofsympathy for thejilted fiancée left behind?
Celestestrangled the bourbon bottle she’d pilfered from Hiram. Sheabsolutelyhated pityparties.
But whosaid she had to come alone?
CHAPTER six
Celesteglanced overher shoulder and met Shane’s gaze. She even hit him with one ofthose thousand-watt smiles that advertising bigwigsused to peddle everythingfrom Coca-Cola toRCA phonographs.
Poor thing. He bought ithook, line and sinker,practicallylightingup like a billboard in Times Square.
Confidant she had him on theend of her line,Celeste crookedher finger, reeling him in. Everyone and everything faded into thebackground as he stalked toward her.
Get agrip, sister!Youjust charmed a dozen men without feeling a thing. This big bruisersmiles at you and you get all fuzzy in the brain.
“Care to do me afavor,lover?”she asked somewhat breathless when he finally stood
