Sherryl Woods – The Backup Plan (страница 6)

He’d met with the board of directors for Covington Plantation and to a man—and woman—they were the most impossible, exasperating group of self-important human beings he’d ever had the misfortune to work for. They wanted to micromanage everything and not one of them had the expertise for it.

Worse, he’d had to wear a suit and tie, even though the temperature was pushing ninety. If there was one thing he hated more than placating a bunch of wealthy, egotistical bosses, it was wearing a suit and pretending not to be bored to tears while they yammered on and on. Things that should have been decided in less than an hour had taken the whole damn day.

Stretched out in a well-used Pawleys Island hammock strung between two ancient live oaks, he now wore comfortable jeans and nothing else. He was trying his best not to move a muscle until a breeze stirred, which probably wouldn’t happen until November. He was not feeling especially optimistic at the moment.

The sound of a car bouncing along the dirt lane leading to his house did nothing to improve his mood. He wasn’t feeling any more sociable than he was optimistic. He’d left all the ruts in the damn road as a way of discouraging visitors. Most people had long since gotten the message.

When the car finally came into view, he tried to place it and couldn’t. The sight of a pair of long, shapely, bare legs emerging from the front seat, however, did improve his outlook marginally. Only one woman in all of South Carolina had legs like that. And she pretty much hated his guts. He couldn’t say he blamed her.

If all the rumors he’d been hearing were right and Dinah Davis had decided to come home and appear on his doorstep it could only mean one thing. She was here to redeem the idiotic offer his brother Bobby had made to her years ago. Bobby, much as Cord loved him, was a damned fool. Who’d want a woman whenever she felt like it, even if that woman was as drop-dead gorgeous as Dinah Davis?

Cord watched her as she exited her car, wondering if her uppity mama knew she was going around town in a pair of shorts that left little to the imagination, and a halter top that wasn’t exactly on the approved fashion list for a one-time Charleston debutante who never strayed from the straight and narrow. Right now she looked more like somebody he wouldn’t mind taking a tumble with, which would flat-out horrify her mama.

Then again, maybe Dinah’s choice of attire explained why Mrs. Davis had been on such a royal tear at the board meeting today. A rebellious daughter, even one who was thirty-one or so and internationally famous, could unsettle an uptight woman.

“Well, well,” he murmured as Dinah lifted her chin with a familiar touch of defiance and started in his direction. “Just look at what the cat dragged in.”

Bright patches of color immediately flooded her cheeks and her devastating, dark blue eyes flashed with irritation, but her good breeding quickly kicked in. She was, after all, on his turf. An uninvited guest with manners, Cord thought with amusement as he awaited her response.

“Good evening, Cordell,” she said, her voice as sweet as syrup, yet unmistakably insincere. “I see your manners haven’t improved with age.”

“Not much,” he agreed, refusing to take offense. “Time’s been kind to you, though. You’re as pretty as Miss Scarlett and twice as tough, judging from what I’ve seen of you on TV.”

“I’m amazed you watch network news,” she said. “I thought the cartoon channel would be more to your liking.”

“Sugar, I’m a man. Surfing channels is in my nature. Even I slow down when I see a hometown girl lighting up the screen in my living room, while bombs blow things up behind her.”

“Yes, I imagine it gives you something to fantasize about on one of your lonely nights,” she said, her voice cool with disdain.

“I am never lonely except by choice.” Lately, though, he was making that choice more and more. Women, gorgeous and fascinating though they could surely be, were proving to be more trouble than they were worth. Dinah gave him a withering look signaling that she found his claim laughable.

“As pleasant as it is chatting with you,” she said in that same syrupy voice that was all about properly bred, South Carolina manners, “I’m here to see Bobby. Is he around?”

Cord took a long, slow sip of beer and an insolent, long, slow head-to-toe survey of her before replying.

“Nope.”

She regarded him with unmistakable impatience. “Expected back?”

Cord saw no reason to help her out when he disapproved so heartily of her apparent mission. “Eventually.”

“Which means exactly what?”

He grinned. Riling Dinah had always been a snap. It was a pure pleasure to see that hadn’t changed. “I thought I was clear enough. He’ll be back when he gets back. You know how it goes with us lazy, good-for-nothing Beauforts. We’re not much on timetables.”

Dinah sighed heavily, which had a fascinating effect on the rise and fall of her barely clad breasts. Cord wondered if she had any notion of the raw sensuality she projected or just how close he was to summoning the energy to drag her straight into his arms and give her the kiss she was half-begging for. Probably not or she’d have hightailed it out of here, instead of pestering him for answers he would not give her. He intended to protect Bobby from his own foolishness.

“Is Bobby due back tonight? Tomorrow? Next week?” she asked, her tone impatient.

“Could be next week,” he said, then shrugged. “Maybe not.”

“Has anyone ever told you how impossible you are?”

“Before you?” he asked. She scowled.

Cord grinned. “Now that you mention it, I believe your mama said something very similar to me just this afternoon.”

Her eyes widened, pleasing Cord with the fact that he could still surprise her. Shocking Dinah had been one of his primary delights back when she and Bobby had been dating. It had been a long time since he’d taken such pleasure in stirring a woman’s temper or her dismay.

“Where on earth did you see my mother?” she inquired.

Her tone suggested he surely must have done something illegal to have such an encounter with an upper-crust paragon. If Dinah weren’t so cute up there on her high horse, he might be insulted that she couldn’t imagine any circumstance under which he and Dorothy Rawlings Davis would cross paths.

“Out and about,” he replied mildly. “Charleston is, after all, a small town in many ways. In fact, I do believe that was why you were so anxious to leave.”

“I left to attend college and pursue a career,” she said, her voice tight as her cool gaze raked over him. “Maybe that’s something you should consider doing.”

He held up his beer and gestured around him. “Why leave? If you ask me, it doesn’t get much better than this—a roof over my head, a little money in the bank, a cool drink and up until a few minutes ago plenty of peace and quiet.”

“Thank heaven your brother doesn’t share your total lack of ambition,” she said.

Her uppity little tone of voice was starting to get on his nerves. He frowned at the comparison in which he came out wanting. He could have told her a few things about what he’d been up to, but why bother? She enjoyed thinking of him as a low-life. Why take that pleasure away from her when she’d just gotten back to town? It would be so much more fun for him watching her eat those words later.

“Please tell Bobby I’m home and looking forward to seeing him,” she said. “You can remember a simple message, can’t you?”

“If I put my mind to it,” Cord agreed. Not that he intended to. Dinah Davis would eat his brother alive. Bobby didn’t need the aggravation. Of course, the last time he’d tried thinking for his brother and interfering in his so-called romance with Dinah, there had been hell to pay.

“Well, try real hard,” she said.

Then she sashayed back to her car, providing him with a fantastic view of her very fine derriere. Cord shook his head. Too bad she was so aggravating. Otherwise, he might enjoy tangling with her himself. Instead, he’d just content himself with keeping Bobby out of her clutches.

3

“I don’t know how Bobby and Cordell could possibly come from the same gene pool,” Dinah told her friend Maggie as they sipped iced tea on the veranda of Maggie’s converted gatehouse a few blocks from the harbor in the historic downtown section of Charleston. “Bobby is sweet and kind and smart and ambitious. Cordell is …” For a woman who made her living with words, she couldn’t find any to describe just what a low-down scoundrel she thought he was.

“Handsome, smart, sexy as sin,” Maggie supplied.

Dinah regarded her with amazement. “Are you crazy?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice,” Maggie teased. “That’s why you’re all tongue-tied and pink-cheeked. What was he wearing? Jeans and nothing else, am I right?” She fanned herself in an exaggerated gesture designed to make a point. “He’s the only man I know who can turn denim into a proper fashion statement.” Her grin spread. “Or should I say improper?”

“I didn’t notice,” Dinah claimed piously.

“Like hell, you didn’t. You’re a female, aren’t you?

All women notice Cordell’s …” She paused significantly, then added, “Attributes.”