everybody getting along and having fun this weekend. She asked me to see to it, and I promised her I would.”
Vicky barked a laugh. “You, the life of the party? Puh-leeze.”
His lips thinned. “Believe me when I tell you, you don’t know jack shit about me and you never will. But on this one thing, I’m pretty sure we agree. We both want Matt and Isabelle to enjoy their wedding, which they won’t do if they’re worried about us killing each other. So I’m asking you to be nice to me. That’s all. You don’t have to mean it. And I’ll be nice to you.”
Be nice. Right. In the last forty-eight hours, Tyrell Brown had frozen her out, scared her senseless, gotten her hornier than she’d ever been in her life and then rejected her, snarled at her like a wolf, and now he was strong-arming her. And he expected her to be nice to him for the next four days? While he pretended to be nice to her? It was the stupidest idea she’d ever heard.
Still, she wanted Matt’s wedding to be perfect.
“Even if I agreed to this idiotic scheme, Matt knows me better than anyone. I doubt I could fool him.”
“Yeah, well, Isabelle knows me pretty well too. We’ll just have to be convincing.” He crossed his arms. “She expects me to flirt with you. And she’ll expect you to flirt back.”
“Impossible.”
He curled his lip. “Trust me, I can flirt with a stump.”
“Oh, that I believe.” She curled her lip back at him. “I’m just not sure I can flirt with a moron.”
S o little Miss Smarty-Pants had some smartass in her. Good for her. Ty paused a beat, let her relish it. Then took her down with one cheap shot.
“I guess that’s why Mommy sent you to law school,” he drawled. “She knew you’d make a shitty actress.”
Watching the color drain from her cheeks, he almost felt bad for her. Then, when she pulled herself right back together, he almost admired her. But when she pointed her chin at him, that’s when he knew he’d suckered her in.
Still, her snotty comeback had him itching to strangle her.
“Anything you can do,” she sneered down her nose, “ I can do better.” And she flipped him the bird and stalked off.
He wanted to go after her. Oh God, did he want to. Every instinct howled to shake her till her eyes jiggled, then flip her over his knee for the striping she had coming.
Heroically, he fought off the urge. Told himself he’d won the round.
But damn it, it grated that she got the last word in. The woman was unbearable. He hated her guts.
And the next time he saw her, he’d have to be nice to her. God help him.
T ake that, Tyrell Brown , Vicky thought for the umpteenth time since she’d met him.
You watch. I’ll win an Oscar, a goddamn Oscar, for my seamless portrayal of a young woman falling hopelessly in love with a half-wit. I’ll be so convincing that you’ll believe it too. And then, when you fall for me, because you will, oh yes you will, then I’ll reject you. Ha! I’ll dump you at breakfast on Sunday morning, in front of everyone, and I’ll let them think it’s because we slept together Saturday night—which we won’t—and you were a crappy lover. I won’t say it, I’ll imply it, but everyone will think—
She stopped stalking in mid-stride and let out a groan. Everyone . . . including her mother.
Oh God, her mother.
Adrianna had ruined dinner the night before, picking apart Vicky’s trial tactics until Matt finally put his foot down. Now Vicky had to tell her that the plaintiff would be rooming with them for the weekend. Adrianna would immediately realize that they risked being disqualified from handling the appeal, and she’d be pissed. Maybe pissed enough to cause a stink, get Ty tossed out of the house, and make Matt and Isabelle miserable.
She couldn’t let that happen.
Matt was standing where she’d left him, at the foot of the stairs snuggling Isabelle.
“Have you seen Mother?”
“She’s up in her room,” he said. “You wanted to talk
Vicky barked a laugh. “You, the life of the party? Puh-leeze.”
His lips thinned. “Believe me when I tell you, you don’t know jack shit about me and you never will. But on this one thing, I’m pretty sure we agree. We both want Matt and Isabelle to enjoy their wedding, which they won’t do if they’re worried about us killing each other. So I’m asking you to be nice to me. That’s all. You don’t have to mean it. And I’ll be nice to you.”
Be nice. Right. In the last forty-eight hours, Tyrell Brown had frozen her out, scared her senseless, gotten her hornier than she’d ever been in her life and then rejected her, snarled at her like a wolf, and now he was strong-arming her. And he expected her to be nice to him for the next four days? While he pretended to be nice to her? It was the stupidest idea she’d ever heard.
Still, she wanted Matt’s wedding to be perfect.
“Even if I agreed to this idiotic scheme, Matt knows me better than anyone. I doubt I could fool him.”
“Yeah, well, Isabelle knows me pretty well too. We’ll just have to be convincing.” He crossed his arms. “She expects me to flirt with you. And she’ll expect you to flirt back.”
“Impossible.”
He curled his lip. “Trust me, I can flirt with a stump.”
“Oh, that I believe.” She curled her lip back at him. “I’m just not sure I can flirt with a moron.”
S o little Miss Smarty-Pants had some smartass in her. Good for her. Ty paused a beat, let her relish it. Then took her down with one cheap shot.
“I guess that’s why Mommy sent you to law school,” he drawled. “She knew you’d make a shitty actress.”
Watching the color drain from her cheeks, he almost felt bad for her. Then, when she pulled herself right back together, he almost admired her. But when she pointed her chin at him, that’s when he knew he’d suckered her in.
Still, her snotty comeback had him itching to strangle her.
“Anything you can do,” she sneered down her nose, “ I can do better.” And she flipped him the bird and stalked off.
He wanted to go after her. Oh God, did he want to. Every instinct howled to shake her till her eyes jiggled, then flip her over his knee for the striping she had coming.
Heroically, he fought off the urge. Told himself he’d won the round.
But damn it, it grated that she got the last word in. The woman was unbearable. He hated her guts.
And the next time he saw her, he’d have to be nice to her. God help him.
T ake that, Tyrell Brown , Vicky thought for the umpteenth time since she’d met him.
You watch. I’ll win an Oscar, a goddamn Oscar, for my seamless portrayal of a young woman falling hopelessly in love with a half-wit. I’ll be so convincing that you’ll believe it too. And then, when you fall for me, because you will, oh yes you will, then I’ll reject you. Ha! I’ll dump you at breakfast on Sunday morning, in front of everyone, and I’ll let them think it’s because we slept together Saturday night—which we won’t—and you were a crappy lover. I won’t say it, I’ll imply it, but everyone will think—
She stopped stalking in mid-stride and let out a groan. Everyone . . . including her mother.
Oh God, her mother.
Adrianna had ruined dinner the night before, picking apart Vicky’s trial tactics until Matt finally put his foot down. Now Vicky had to tell her that the plaintiff would be rooming with them for the weekend. Adrianna would immediately realize that they risked being disqualified from handling the appeal, and she’d be pissed. Maybe pissed enough to cause a stink, get Ty tossed out of the house, and make Matt and Isabelle miserable.
She couldn’t let that happen.
Matt was standing where she’d left him, at the foot of the stairs snuggling Isabelle.
“Have you seen Mother?”
“She’s up in her room,” he said. “You wanted to talk
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