Millionaire Mavericks: The Oilman’s Baby Bargain

Chapter Ten

When Lexi and Mitch arrived at the Cattleman’s Club to meet her father, her goal was to get in, eat dinner, and leave as fast as humanly possible. Which was odd because in the past she had cherished every moment her father would spare her. It seemed that lately she was no longer so desperate for his time or his approval. But Mitch needed his support, so she would be on her best behavior.

“Are you ready for this?” Mitch asked, holding out his hand for her to take.

She laced her fingers through his. Another few hours of pretending they were madly in love? She could hardly wait. At least now when he touched her it didn’t feel so…unnatural. In a way it was kind of nice, even though she knew deep down that he hated her, or at the very least disliked her a lot.

“This way,” the hostess said, gesturing toward the dining room door. They followed her, and as they entered the room, it took a few seconds for Lexi to process what she was seeing. Tables full of familiar people all smiling at them, balloons and streamers everywhere and a banner draped across the back wall that announced in huge block letters, Congratulations Mitch and Lexi.

Everyone shouted, “Surprise!” and the room erupted in laughter and applause.

She heard Mitch mumble, “Oh, shit,” and thought, I couldn’t have said it better myself.

Lance and Kate stood close to the door, beaming. He stepped forward and shook Mitch’s hand.

“What did you do?” Mitch asked him.

“Don’t look at me, bro. This was all Kate’s idea. I couldn’t talk her out of it.”

“You had to have a wedding reception,” Kate said, flush with excitement. She hugged Mitch, then pulled Lexi into a warm and affectionate embrace, and Lexi was so stunned she almost forgot to hug her back.

“But it wasn’t just me,” Kate said, nodding toward the door. “Your assistant was a huge help.”

Lexi turned, and realized Tara was standing just off to one side of the door. She hadn’t even seen her when they walked in.

She flashed Lexi a feeble smile and said, “Surprise.”

She was the only one in the room who knew what a disaster the marriage was. No wonder she looked so apologetic.

“So, were you both surprised?” Kate asked.

Lexi nodded and Mitch said, “To quote the great Chevy Chase, if I woke up tomorrow with my head sewn to the carpet, I wouldn’t be more surprised than I am now.”

The room burst into laughter.

Someone handed Lexi and Mitch each a flute of champagne from a passing tray, and she realized everyone in the room already had their own glass.

Lance held his up in a toast. “To my little brother and his wife. May you live a long and happy life together!”

“Hear, hear!” everyone chanted, clinking their glasses together, and Lexi had no choice but to pretend to take a sip. As she studied the sea of faces before her, she couldn’t help noticing that the one she had been expecting to see wasn’t there. Her father.

Tara must have read her mind because she leaned close to Lexi and said, “The senator’s secretary called a while ago to say he’ll be a little late.”

Didn’t that just figure? He skips her wedding altogether and shows up late for the reception? She wondered why he bothered to show up at all. But she didn’t have much time to think about it as a constant flow of friends, relatives and club members stepped forward to hug them or shake their hands and give their best wishes. Darius Franklin and his fiancée Summer Martindale, Kevin Novak and his wife Cara, Mitch’s best man Justin Dupree. Even Sebastian Huntington and his daughter Rebecca were there. And those were just the people she recognized. She had no clue Mitch had so many friends.

A too-real wedding reception for a fake marriage. Did it get much worse? Lexi couldn’t help thinking that this just might be the longest night of her life. But as the champagne flowed and the music played, she discovered herself getting caught up in the festivities. Mitch never once left her side, and if he wasn’t holding her hand or draping an arm around her, he was touching her in some way.

Dinner was served around eight and halfway through the meal, Kate started to clink her glass with a fork, and then everyone joined in. Lexi had been to enough wedding receptions to know that it meant she and Mitch were supposed to kiss.

Mitch looked at her apologetically because he knew as well as she did that they had to make this look real. She held her breath as he cradled her face in his hand, leaned forward and laid a kiss on her that curled her toes and turned her brain to mush. The guests applauded, and she heard a couple of wolf whistles. After that, it seemed as though every five minutes the clinking started, and Mitch would be forced to kiss her yet again. Not that he seemed to mind, and she couldn’t deny the man did fantastic things with his mouth.

He’d had several glasses of champagne with dinner, then after dessert, switched to whiskey. The more he drank, the more relaxed he became, and the more relaxed he became, the more affectionate he seemed to be. By the time they had their first dance together, he nearly had her convinced they were madly in love. The song playing was a slow one and he pulled her so close, gazed so tenderly into her eyes, she thought any minute he might drag her to the nearest broom closet.

“When we walked in here I thought this night was going to be a disaster,” he said. “But I have to admit, it hasn’t been so bad.”

She’d thought the same thing, but she was actually having a great time.

“You might have to drive us home tonight,” he warned her. “I think I may have had a few too many.”

That could be a problem. “I can’t.”

He frowned. “You haven’t been drinking, have you?”

“Of course not! What I mean is, I really can’t. I never learned how to drive.”

His eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”

She shook her head.

“Let me guess. Your father wouldn’t allow it.”

“It would have made it more difficult to keep me under his thumb. I had a driver who took me wherever I needed to go.”

Mitch shook his head in disgust. “No offense, but the more I learn about the senator, the less I like him.”

His irritation stunned her, but she realized it was a nice change to have someone to defend her. “I can ask Tara to drive us.”

“I’ll call a car,” he said. “And the first chance we get, I’m teaching you to drive.”

“Seriously?” First cooking lessons, now driving? He was being almost too nice and understanding. Probably tomorrow, when he was sober, he would come to his senses and change his mind.

“Speak of the devil,” Mitch said, gesturing toward the door with his chin.

She turned and saw that her father had arrived. He was watching Lexi and Mitch dance, and he didn’t look happy.

“Is it my imagination,” Mitch asked, “or does he look really pissed off?”

“It’s not your imagination.” She couldn’t help wondering what she’d done this time, because when he looked like that, it was usually her fault. “I should go talk to him.”

“You want me to come with you?”

“Maybe you’d better give us a few minutes alone.” The last thing she needed was for her father to berate her in front of her husband. Not that she thought it was possible for Mitch to have a lower opinion of her than he already did, but why take a chance?

She crossed the room to where her father waited, forcing a smile, and said, “Hello, Daddy.”

She hadn’t expected a warm greeting, but she also hadn’t expected him to clamp a hand around her upper arm and pull her to an unoccupied corner. He had never been one to get physical.

“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 stretched for it, but even on her tiptoes she wasn’t tall enough. She turned back to him and said, “I can’t reach it.”

He knew even before he took a step that he was going to regret this, but he couldn’t stop himself. He crossed the kitchen, caging her into a corner, and to his surprise, she didn’t object or try to move to one side. She smelled fantastic and she was giving off enough pheromones to bring a football team to its knees.

Resting one hand on the counter beside her, he reached up with the other to grab the box of tea bags. He told himself that getting this close to her without an audience was a bad idea, but the message was getting scrambled in his hormone-drenched brain. Instead of backing off, like he should have, his body was telling him to move closer.

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