The Honeymoon That Wasn't

“He’d think it was hilarious. I know him, and you need to help me out.” Dallas rubbed her bare arms. “It is cold out here.”

“So you want me to do what exactly?” Dakota asked as her sister linked an arm through hers and steered her toward the entry into the banquet room.

Dallas opened the door and the light inside illuminated her smile. “Go on my honeymoon for me. With Tony.”

DAMN THAT Dallas. As soon as they got inside someone called to her sister and she was off with no further explanation other than she’d already packed a bag for Dakota. As if the matter were settled.

Dakota headed straight for the bathroom, her thoughts spinning so quickly she literally felt dizzy. Or maybe it was the excitement of what lay ahead? The whole idea was crazy. And perfect. A weekend with Tony? She couldn’t have come up with a better plan herself. Except she had a lot going on at work, and it wasn’t as if she could just not show up on Monday.

Two older women, colleagues of her mother whom she vaguely knew, stood at the mirror talking and applying lipstick. Dakota smiled at them and then hurried into a stall, put the seat down and sat on the john. She hadn’t even asked her sister if Tony knew about the plan and if he’d agreed to go. Is that what he’d meant by “later”? She straightened. If he’d known about this before she had that would really tick her off.

She took a deep breath. Dallas had purposely waited to tell her. Just so she wouldn’t have time to come up with an excuse not to go. She was a coward. She admitted it.

Dallas was the independent one. She did as she pleased. Dakota, however, was the good little lamb. Always doing what she was told.

She still didn’t like it that Dallas had conspired with Tony. For that reason alone she ought to tell her sister to find some other flunky. Yeah, right. Like she wasn’t ready to leave the reception right now, get him alone and rip off his clothes.

Feeling a little flushed, she bent over, crossing her arms over her knees and breathing deeply. She was crazy for even considering doing this. But she’d be even crazier for refusing the opportunity. The ladies’ room door opened and she heard someone murmur about dinner starting. She had to go or someone would surely come looking for her.

Straightening, she smoothed back her hair, and then checked the front of her dress. Smiling, she stood, ready for the games to begin. She’d go but that didn’t mean she’d go easily.

“Guess what Mother wants.” Dallas met her partway.

Tony followed Dallas, who gave him an exasperated look.

Dakota sensed an undercurrent but they didn’t seem angry with each other. “What?”

“To change the seating.”

“I would’ve guessed that.”

Dallas snorted. “I’m having the big formal wedding like she wanted, and I kept my mouth shut when she invited half the legal and academic communities, most of whom I don’t know. But that’s it.”

“Calm down.” Tony slipped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed lightly. “That’s one of the first rules of weddings. Mothers get to show off their kids and put their husbands in the poorhouse. Just ask my pop.”

Dallas rolled her eyes. “Gee, if I’d known that was a rule I wouldn’t have gotten upset.”

“Now you know.”

Sighing, she smiled and kissed Tony on the cheek. “Entertain my sister, okay?”

“I don’t need entertaining,” Dakota said, but Dallas had already flitted over to another couple Dakota didn’t recognize. She turned toward Tony. “I don’t—”

“I know.” His mouth curved in a sexy grin that made her heart skip a beat. “So entertain me instead.”

“BETTER TAKE IT EASY with that stuff.” Tony eyed the brandy snifter in Dakota’s hand, her second cognac as far as he could tell. And that was after several glasses of wine with dinner. A different variety was served with each course. Him, he stuck to his beer. Two glasses of wine and he’d be kissing the floor. For some reason, the stuff really got to him.

“One mother is all I can handle, thank you very much.” She took a deliberate sip, smiled and said, “I’m fine. Really.”

“Okay,” he said without conviction. The fact that she’d said that a little too loudly was proof enough she better give the booze a rest.

Although he had to admit she wasn’t sloppy. If he hadn’t been sitting next to her at dinner he wouldn’t have known she’d had that much wine. Plus each course had been spaced out so that dinner had ended up being the longest, most quiet meal in history. At least for his family. When the San Angelos got together for a party, talking, eating and dancing were not mutually exclusive.

They’d finally finished dessert a half hour ago, and people had started dancing the moment the band struck the first note. He wanted to ask Dakota to dance but the song had to be just the right one. Despite his mouthing off, he wasn’t all that swift on the dance floor. The beat had to be slow and easy so he didn’t have to think too much about what his feet were doing.

He’d skip the idea altogether, but the way Mrs. Shea had been giving him the eye, he figured dancing with Dakota would be the only way he’d get close to her. Dallas and Eric were already out there and so were Trudie and Wendy who’d pulled Tom along with them. At the end of the table, Serena and Nancy seemed deep in conversation.

The song ended and the band eased into another, slower, moodier one he could handle. He turned to Dakota but her father beat him to it.

Mr. Shea was taking her by the hand. “Hope you saved a dance for your old man,” he said, smiling fondly at his daughter.

“Save a dance? No one’s asked me yet,” she said, with a teasing smile at Tony as she set down her brandy.

“My mistake.” He met her eyes. “I claim the next one.”

Laughing, she got to her feet and allowed her father to lead her to the dance floor. The way that dress hugged her curves bordered on illegal. Her hips moved with a little extra enthusiasm almost as if for his benefit. Hard not to stare, but he sensed someone over his shoulder and looked up.

“Mind if I sit with you for a moment?” Mrs. Shea didn’t wait for an answer. She lowered herself gracefully into Dakota’s chair.

“Gee, here I thought you were going to ask me to dance.”

She smiled and gazed out toward the dance floor. “Everyone seems to be having a good time.”

“Yes, ma’am. Free liquor does it every time.”

Annoyance flickered in her eyes. One blink and it was gone.

He tried not to smile and sipped his beer.

“Didn’t you like the wine we selected?”

“I’m sure it was just fine. I prefer beer.”

“Ah.” She turned again to watch the dancers.

The woman hardly looked as if she could have three adult children. Tall, blond and trim, she didn’t look much over forty. In fact, she could’ve passed for Dallas and Dakota’s sister.

She caught him staring.

Tony coughed. “I was just thinking how you look more like your daughters’ sister. They’ll be lucky to look like you in twenty years,” he said and meant it. She was a very attractive woman.

She looked annoyed again, her pinched expression adding a decade to her face. “Looks hardly make the person.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” Tony took another sip of beer to avoid saying something sarcastic. Like her being a perfect example.

“Take Dakota.” Mrs. Shea’s gaze went to her daughter. “She could have had a successful modeling career. But she was smart enough to realize the foolhardiness of such a move. Wisely she chose to further her education, secure her future.” She looked at him then, steadily meeting his gaze. “Did you know she’s got a good shot at a judgeship?”

“Yeah, I heard something about it from Dallas. The thing I don’t understand is that she’s only been out of law school for what—three, four years? I’m sure she’s really bright and I don’t know how the system works but isn’t that kind of fast?” He smiled and brought his beer to his lips. “But then again your husband probably has connections if that’s what you two want for Dakota,” he said before taking a long pull.

He had to give the woman credit for keeping a straight face. Maybe she should’ve been the attorney. The only sign that he’d dented her composure was that it took her a few moments to come back with, “Where did you attend college, Mr. San Angelo?”

“NYU. And call me Tony.” He enjoyed the surprise on her face. Probably figured he hadn’t made it through high school. Yet she wouldn’t be disappointed for long.

“What was your degree in?”

Ah, well, the fun lasted all of thirty seconds. “I dropped out the middle of my sophomore year.”

Her eyebrows went up. “Really?” He didn’t think he imagined an inkling of satisfaction on her face. “May I ask why?”

He shook his head. “School just wasn’t for me. I like working with my hands.”

“Yes, but—”

He held up a hand. “No offense, Professor Shea, I understand where you’re coming from but that’s the way it is. I like what I do. I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to sound as if I’m interfering. We all make our own choices.”

The song ended and Dakota and her father headed back toward them. Even from this distance he could see the alarm on Dakota’s face, and surprisingly what looked like disapproval in her father’s.

Mrs. Shea pushed back her chair. “I suppose we were lucky all of our children valued their education.” She smiled at him as she rose to her feet. “Nice chatting with you, Tony.”

Tempted to remind her of Dallas’s detour he decided to keep his mouth shut. It didn’t matter. He got the message. He lived on the wrong side of the fence.

She slipped away a second before Dakota returned to her seat. Her father nodded at Tony and then followed his wife back to their table.

Frowning, Dakota watched until they both sat down. “What was that about?”

“What?”

She fixed him with a pretty intimidating glare. One she’d probably perfected in court. “What did my mother want?”

He grinned and got up, pulling her with him. “She wanted me to dance with you.”

“Right.”

He was lucky. The song was slow. He shouldn’t have too much trouble keeping up. They got to the center of the floor and he guided them to the middle for some privacy. Not much, but better than having her mother’s gaze boring into his back as he slid both his arms around Dakota, his hands resting just above the curve of her sweet little backside. No holding one hand out in the air crap. He wanted to feel her chest pressed against him. Feel her thighs move with his.

She sighed softly, and then tilted her head back to look at him. “Come on. What did she want?”

No way was he getting into this conversation with her. He couldn’t without bad-mouthing her mother, and he wasn’t doing that. “Why isn’t your brother being groomed to be a judge?”

Her lips parted slightly as she hesitated, and if they were anywhere else, he would’ve accepted the invitation. And if she didn’t quit soon…

“Cody is far too mercenary, hardly civil servant material.” She laughed softly and swept a quick glance around. “Oops, did I say that?”

Civil servant? That stopped Tony. He hadn’t thought of it that way. “Defense attorneys make more money, huh?”

“Oh, please.” She chuckled and then squinted at him. “Are you kidding?”

He shrugged. “How would I know?”

“Defense attorneys can make oodles of money. Especially defending white-collar clients.” She whispered. “My brother’s favorite kind of criminal.”

“What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

“I wasn’t referring to the innocent ones.” She paused thoughtfully. “Although they usually end up racking up a lot more legal fees.”

“You’re so cute when you’re being materialistic.”

“Hey.” She lightly pinched his shoulder. “I was being analytical.”

“Oh.” He smiled and brought her closer so that she pressed her cheek against the base of his throat. His lips were touching her forehead. This is where he wanted her. Not leaning away from him analyzing the legal profession.

Besides, the dance floor had gotten more crowded. Good for him. It gave him an excuse to draw her closer. Bad for her in that she could be overheard and, since half the people there were either lawyers, judges or somehow related, she’d be better off zipping it.

Her arms tightened around his neck and she rubbed her cheek against his jaw. His body immediately reacted. If the song suddenly ended and he had to walk back to the table, he’d be screwed.

“Hello, Dakota.”

She lifted her head and smiled at the distinguished-looking older man dancing beside them with a much younger blond woman. “Hi, Judge Hawkins.”

He nodded to Tony and then said to Dakota, “We’re not in the courtroom. I think it would be okay to call me David.”

“That would feel a little too strange.”

He smiled, nodded and they moved apart, but not before the man gave Tony a sizing up.

Tony ignored him. “Is that his wife?”

“Nope. He’s divorced. Three times now.”

“He looks old enough to be her father.”

“Probably is. He likes them young.”

He obviously liked Dakota, but Tony didn’t point that out. The song wound down and he hoped like hell the band would stick to a slow beat. They did and everyone on the dance floor stayed. Several other couples crowded in and damned if they didn’t all seem to know Dakota. Their once-private area was getting to be as bad as Grand Central Station.

When it was announced that it was time to cut the cake, he didn’t even mind. Maybe after that they could get out of here. Even if he and Dakota just rode to the airport together, alone, no parents, no coworkers, and the evening ended there, he’d be okay with that. Not happy, but okay.

Glasses of champagne were passed out while Dallas and Eric got ready to cut the cake. Dallas got a little impatient when the photographer kept trying to reposition them and she dug into the cake with her fingers and offered the piece to Eric. Everyone laughed. Except Mrs. Shea, but that was no surprise.

In Tony’s experience, shortly after the cake was cut the bride and groom usually left the reception. That meant he and Dakota would be leaving, too. He glanced at his watch. No matter, they’d have to leave within half an hour to get to LaGuardia in time for their flight.

An older, distinguished-looking man had intercepted Dakota right before the cake cutting, and Tony scanned the room locating her in time to see her drain a flute of champagne and exchange it for another. She caught his eye and smiled, then raised the glass to him before gulping down half the contents.

What the hell? Was she on some kind of mission to get plastered? Maybe she didn’t like flying? A lot of people didn’t. Better that be the reason than anything personal. He wanted to be with her this weekend, but not if she had to get loaded to be with him.

“We’re going to have to leave soon.” Dallas dabbed at the white frosting clinging to the corner of her mouth. “Where’s Dakota?”

“Over there.”

“Ah, she’s talking to Judge Mayfield and his wife. She shouldn’t be long. We’ll meet at the door in fifteen minutes. Eric is having the limo brought around front.”

“Is she okay?” he asked.

Dallas smiled “Yes. Trust me.”

That’s about all he could do. “I’ll be ready.” His gaze went to Dakota.

She was laughing at something the judge said, her face slightly flushed. She tossed her hair back over her shoulder, the honey-colored strands catching the light from the chandelier. The red dress shimmered as she moved, emphasizing the tempting curve of her backside. Yeah, he was ready all right. He had been from the first time he saw her.

“WHO EVER HEARD of a limo without champagne?” Dakota sighed, hiked her dress up to her thighs and then swung her legs up on the seat where she sat opposite Tony. Predictably his gaze went straight to the hem of her dress, and then ran down the length of her legs. “We’ll simply have to have the driver stop for some.” She lifted her fist to knock on the dividing glass, but Tony lunged from his seat and captured her wrist.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough to drink?” He got up and joined her on her seat, using his hip to nudge her legs aside.

“Excuse me?” She indignantly lifted her chin, and slightly slurred her words then asked, “Do you think I’m drunk?”

He hesitated, exhaling in exasperation, and she had to really struggle to keep a straight face. “Look, we can’t stop. We’ll miss our plane.”

“Plane? What plane?”

He stared at her. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Of course I’m kidding.” She pulled her hem up a little higher and used her pointed toes to trace a path across his back. “Remind me.”

“Oh, God,” he muttered, passing a hand over his face, and then covering his mouth and exhaling loudly.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Why are you still holding my wrist?”

“What? Oh, sorry.”

As soon as he let go, she knocked on the dividing glass.

“Yes, ma’am?” The driver’s voice immediately came over the intercom.

Tony pressed the response button. “Sorry, my mistake. We’re fine.”

“Hey, I wanted—”

Tony cut her off with a brief kiss, and then whispered, “When we get on the plane you can have all the champagne you want.”

She slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. “What if I want something else?”

His breath warm and uneven against her cheek, he said, “Such as?”

She shifted so that her hip rubbed him right where it counted, and he tensed. She made him wait a few seconds and then whispered, “Chocolate.”

“Ah…” He chuckled softly. “When we get to the airport you can have that, too.”

“For now I’ll settle for a kiss.”

“You will, huh?”

She nodded, and then waited, surprised by the uncertainty in his eyes. Maybe it was a trick of the shadows, or maybe he didn’t want to take advantage of her because he thought she was drunk. The idea softened her and she tightened her arms around his neck, bringing him close enough that their noses touched. She slanted her head and met his lips.

His reluctance lasted all of a second before he kissed her back, going down with her when she laid back against the cushioned seat. The tinted dividing window prevented the driver from seeing anything and it would be easy to get carried away. Especially with Tony’s broad chest pressed to her breasts, his arousal growing against her lower belly. But they were too close to the airport and if she really wanted to torment him, now was the time.

He’d conspired with Dallas and deserved a helping of torture. Just a little before they got down to the good stuff, she reminded herself, when he parted her lips with his tongue and her determination started to evaporate. She moved her left thigh to rub his hard-on and he groaned against her mouth.

She hadn’t planned on torturing herself, too, but every pore in her body had come alive, her nipples so ripe they ached, and it was a good thing she’d opened her eyes in time to see the first sign for LaGuardia. Knowing they were about to be interrupted, she reached for his zipper. And then secretly smiled when he groaned, and stilled her hand.

“THE CAPTAIN HAS turned off the seat belt sign and you’re free to move around the cabin. However, if you remain in your seat, we ask that you keep your seat belt fastened. Thank you.”

The flight attendant had barely finished her spiel and Dakota reached for her seat belt.

Tony stopped her. “Where are you going?”

She gave him a sleepy smile and twisted around in her seat to face him. “Nowhere.”

Neither of them had a coat so he’d given her his jacket to wear over the dress but this particular position gave him a sneak preview that he didn’t need right now. She’d gotten him so damn worked up in the limo that he didn’t trust his cock anymore.

Getting checked in had cooled him off. Replaying the scene in his head helped do it again. The ticket agent looked as if she thought he was kidnapping Dakota. Fortunately she pulled it together long enough to provide her identification and tell everyone who’d listen that they were on their honeymoon.

“Where are we going?” she asked, and promptly covered a yawn.

“Dakota. You know where we’re going. Dallas talked to you, remember?”

She blinked at him. “Sort of.”

God, he didn’t like this. He cleared his throat. “What exactly do you remember?”

“She packed a bag for me, right?”

He nodded.

“Did she remember my toothbrush?” She yawned again. “My electric one.”

“I’m sure she did.”

“I think I’ll take a nap now.”

“Good idea.”

She shifted so that she could lay her head on his shoulder, and with one hand he shook out a blanket the flight attendant had given them earlier. He draped it over her, and she snuggled closer.

Man, he sure hoped Dallas knew what she was doing. She swore Dakota wasn’t drunk. Just a little tipsy. That she understood exactly where she was going. And who she was with. Because if she didn’t, this weekend or any chance they might have had was going to be so messed up.

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