Read When She's Bad Online

Authors: Leanne Banks

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary

When She's Bad (6 page)

The men exchanged sideways glances.

Jerry tented his fingers together like a church steeple, not a comforting symbol for Delilah. “A silent partner has the right to request audits and question the ability of the current management. The silent partner may request weekly reports on everything from inventory to safety procedures to clean bathroom checks.”

Delilah’s stomach knotted. “So what you’re saying is I could be nitpicked to death.”

“I’m afraid so. Your best course would be to cooperate with the silent partner.”

She sighed. “Okay. Who is my silent partner?”

A knock sounded at the partially opened door and Lilly Bradford appeared in the doorway. “Hi there. You don’t mind if I come in, do you?”

Jerry glanced at Bill then both men looked at Delilah.

Oh, no. No, no, no
, Delilah thought, gazing desperately at Jerry. But Jerry gave a slight nod of his head and Delilah saw the awful truth written on his face.

“I have some thoughts on the current expansion plans,” Lilly said coolly as she entered the room. “Good morning,” she said to the men, then glanced at Delilah without extending her hand or a greeting. “You’ve informed Miss Montague of my partnership status, haven’t you?”

The room began to spin.

She’d become the guardian of a six-month-old baby last night and the person who hated her more than just about anything, Lilly Bradford, had just become her business partner. Somebody up there was having way too much fun at her expense.

Lilly sat down and opened a folder. “The first thing I’d like to review is your educational background.”

A very sore point for Delilah. She stiffened her spine. “When I was hired, I was told my experience was more important.”

“And what was your experience when you were promoted?” Lilly asked in a snippy voice.

Delilah wanted to grab her by her Dumbo ears and jerk her into a knot. “I had already worked at Spa DeMay for a few years. As you know, I was trained by your father,” she said boldly, daring Lilly to make a snide comment in front of the accountants.

Lilly’s cheeks turned pink. Her eyes sparked with fury. “But your education.”

“My education is three years of training from your father. I have five years of experience at this spa. What kind of work experience do you have?” Delilah asked, turning the tables on Howard’s daughter with a silent uplifted apology.
Sorry, but your princess is getting out of hand.

Lilly opened her mouth, but nothing came out. “I—I—”

“You have a college education, don’t you? What was your major? How does it relate to the spa?”

Lilly began to sweat. When she’d gone to bed by herself again last night, she’d vowed that she would be the perfect choice of a bride for Robert Huntington. After her appointment with the executor of her father’s estate yesterday, she’d concluded that one of her first duties as prospective fiancée was to get the trash out of her life. Delilah Montague needed to go.

Even now, though, the woman made her feel uncertain. Lilly had every reason to feel confident and in control. She owned almost half of what Delilah wanted. She could make Delilah’s life a living hell while Delilah couldn’t do a thing to her. Except make her feel insecure, ignorant and inexperienced.

I am an ice cube
, Lilly told herself.
She can’t get her claws in me
. “We’re not here to discuss my qualifications.”

“If we’re going to discuss mine, then it’s only fair that we discuss yours. What did you say your employment experience was?”

Lilly resisted the urge to squirm. “I worked as my father’s personal secretary one summer and I’ve been active in charity work.”

Delilah nodded. “So you worked for your father and for charity.” She shook her head. “The problem with charity is you don’t really have to make a profit, but when you operate a business, you do.”

Lilly wanted to scratch out Delilah’s smoldering come-hither eyes that turned men to putty. She swallowed the hard knot of her envy. “Speaking of profit, your expansion plans will cut into profits.”

“For the short term, but long-term projections indicate—”

“The problem with projections is they’re just projections. Not a guarantee.”

“There’s no such thing as a guarantee,” Delilah said, her gaze womanly wise and worldly.

For a second, Lilly wondered how she’d gained that wisdom. Something told her that whatever it was hadn’t been a source of pleasure. She stopped her thoughts. There was no room for compassion or any other gentle emotion for Delilah Montague. She was trash and the garbage needed to be put out on the curb to be taken away.

“I’m going to need more information before I’ll agree to expansion in Dallas.”

She watched Delilah’s gaze turn to steel and felt a moment of trepidation. What if she couldn’t get rid of her?

“Fine,” Delilah said crisply. “I don’t have time right now, but give me a list of your questions and I’ll let you know when I have the answers. In the meantime, if you’ll excuse me, I must leave.”

Delilah stood and walked out of the room, leaving the three men with their tongues hanging out of their mouths. Disgusted, Lilly stood. “I’ll see you gentlemen later. Have a good day,” she said and walked toward the front of the spa.

As she rounded the corner, she nearly bumped into Delilah as she held a baby. A baby boy, she presumed, taking in the blue jacket and hat that didn’t quite cover his jutting ears. She instinctively lifted her hand to make sure hers were covered.

The baby extended his hand to her and gurgled.

Lilly felt a vague softening inside her. She wanted babies with Robert. “Cute baby,” she said. “Who does he belong to?”

“A friend,” Delilah said vaguely, sighing as she hoisted a diaper bag over her shoulder.

The sight was an odd one. Delilah the vamp with an infant and for the first time Lilly glimpsed dark circles under her father’s mistress’s eyes. “Why do you have him?” she couldn’t resist asking.

Delilah met her gaze. “Because I promised I would.”

Babe In Total Control Of Herself aka Bitch.
—D
ELILAH’S
D
ICTUM

Chapter 6

A
fter feeling as if Lilly had poked her like a voodoo doll, Delilah collected Willy and drove back to the condo praying that Benjamin would be there as he’d agreed. No guarantees, she told herself. When the going got tough, rich white boys didn’t always keep their promises. Her mother had learned that the hard way when two men had bailed on her after she’d gotten pregnant. Delilah’s father had been one of them.

Holding her breath and propping Willy on her hip, she pushed open the door to the sight of Benjamin sitting across from a woman with a great deal of facial hair who was dressed like a bag lady.

Benjamin stood and she felt a little tickle in her stomach that he was still there. Anyone else in their right mind would have run screaming in the other direction. He met Delilah’s gaze with a deliberately neutral expression. “Delilah, this is Ms. Cannady. Nanny Finders sent her.”

“Oh, okay.” She passed Willy to Benjamin and extended her hand to Ms. Cannady. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. Please have a seat while we talk,” Delilah said, trying to form appropriate questions quickly. The woman’s facial hair, however, was very distracting.

“I was just telling your man that I’ll take care of the baby, but I don’t cook dinners or clean houses. And I start charging extra if you’re five minutes late.”

Your man
stopped her brain flat for several seconds. Benjamin wasn’t
her man
. She shook her head. She was desperate for a nanny. For a sliver of a moment, she wondered if Willy would mind the facial hair all that much. She inhaled and caught a strong whiff of garlic. She couldn’t force that combination of sight and smell on Willy. She bit back a sigh of disappointment. “Thank you for letting me know. Can you tell me about your experience?”

“I did baby sitting for ten years for my next-door neighbors.”

“Did you keep the children on an ongoing basis?”

“No, I helped out in case of emergencies, but now I need a full-time job. I can start tomorrow.”

“The agency told you that we’ll be using cloth diapers with the baby, didn’t they?” Delilah asked.

Complete silence followed.

“Why don’t you use disposables?” Ms. Cannady asked warily.

“The baby is allergic to them.”

“Oh.”

The woman cleared her throat and rose. “Well, uh, I might have to think about this. It’s not good for my, uh, skin to be in water a lot of the time.”

“That’s certainly understandable,” Delilah said, heading for the door. “Thank you for dropping by.” She closed the door and looked at Benjamin, wanting to kiss him for being there. She restrained herself. “She was from
Nanny Finders
?”

Setting Willy into the playpen, Benjamin shook his head. “I was just as surprised as you were.”

“Do you think they’re all going to be like this?” she asked, horrified at the prospect.

Benjamin met her gaze. “Delilah, how many women, and I use the term loosely, have you seen who look and smell like that?”

“True. Not many,” she conceded.

“The percentages are on our side. It may take more than a few interviews, but eventually a good nanny will walk through that door.”

Stuck on his use of the word
our
, she blinked.
Our
, as if he was in this with her. As if she weren’t alone. As if she could count on him. Dangerous thought, she told herself.

She pulled herself together. “I can only hope.”

He pointed at her suit. “Looks like you’ve been busy this morning. You went to work?”

She nodded. “Business emergency. I also went to Wal-mart. I bought all their diapers and some other things. Speaking of which, would you mind bringing them up from my car? I’ll wait here with Willy, but the swing is poking out of one of my windows and it looks like rain.”

He chuckled and nodded. “No problem. How bad was the business emergency?”

“On a scale of one to ten?” she asked. “Fifty.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “What could be that bad at a spa? Did someone fry somebody’s hair?”

She shook her head, not wanting to reveal the fact that Benjamin’s brother was dating her business partner. The connection was sure to provoke a sticky discussion. “I’m not sure I have the words for it. I don’t want to swear in front of the baby. Bad habit of mine,” she said, feeling oddly nervous as he moved closer to her. “One of many.”

“You’re a woman of many bad habits?” he asked.

Her silly heart went pitter-patter. His eyes were too sexy. “Many,” she repeated. “Swearing, eating M&Ms, drinking coffee, drinking champagne cocktails.”

“Saving lives and taking responsibility for babies.”

“Baby,” she quickly corrected breathlessly. She could smell his aftershave. He was way too close. He should move back five feet. Fifty feet. “
One baby
.”

“I haven’t figured you out. Half the time you come off like you’re a hard-hearted, superficial—”

He broke off and she filled in the blank for him. “Bitch,” she said. “I believe the word you’re looking for is bitch.”

“I think that’s just a cover.”

Oops. A little too close. “No it’s not. I’m actually a bitch.”

He shook his head slightly, studying her. “No. And the bad-girl image.”

“Oh that,” she said, waving her hand in a dismissing gesture. “It’s not an image. I was born with it. My father said I was the spawn of a devil and angel, but the devil won.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Was he the devil?”

She opened her mouth then closed it, blinking at the possibility. “What an interesting thought. My father is a professional evangelist, so I’m sure he believes that he was the angel.”

“Then why did he tangle with the devil?”

“Oh, it’s always the devil’s fault,” she said, still feeling nervous about the look in his eyes. She needed to eliminate his curiosity, the almost sexual interest. It made her jittery. “He said my mother tempted him with her earthly wiles. Quick and dirty story is he was a freshly graduated frat boy who hadn’t sown enough wild oats. He went into business with the owner of the local bar where we lived, fell head over butt for my mother when she won a wet T-shirt contest. His mother, however, literally suffered a stroke when she learned her boy was playing around with a single-mother floozy. Guilt-ridden, he repented of his sins by ditching my mother and entering seminary. My mother exacted her revenge by naming me Delilah and neglecting to tell him that he had become a father. So you could say I was born and bred to be a bad girl.”

“Your mother was a single mother before she had you?” he asked.

Delilah nodded, certain the truth would offend and horrify him. “Yes. She was quite proli—” She searched for the word. It had been one of her words of the day last week. “Prodig—” She frowned.

“Prolific, prodigious—”

She nodded again. “Prodigious. Probably prolific too. Fertile would also work. Four children by four men.”

He didn’t appear nearly as shocked as she’d expected. He still had that curious, sexually intent look. She’d seen it before a million times, so she knew. “Totally different world than yours. Totally different kind of woman than you’re used to,” she said, heavily hinting that he should take his interest elsewhere.

“I’ve had a relationship with a certain type of woman and it didn’t work out. Maybe I should try a different kind of woman.”

She shook her head. “Oh, don’t even think about it. You’re used to French champagne and trust me darlin’ I am domestic to the bone. Think pedigreed French poodle versus mixed breed. You wouldn’t know what to do with me if you had me, and once you had me, you wouldn’t be able to get rid of me fast enough.”

She saw a hint of challenge light his eyes and bit back an oath. Oh, crap, she’d awakened the sleeping giant that lurked beneath the skin of almost every proper white boy.

He leaned closer to her and touched his finger to her mouth. “You could be right that I’m used to French champagne. You could be right that I’ve spent too much time with pedigreed women.” He rubbed his finger over her lips in a sensual motion that made her want to slide her tongue over his bold finger. Holding her breath, she resisted.

“But you could be wrong when you say that if I had you,” he said in a deep velvet voice that felt far too intimate, “I wouldn’t know what to do with you.”

She felt her body respond in ways it hadn’t responded in months. Swallowing over her surprise that a good boy like Benjamin could generate such heat, she took a step back, determined to cover her reaction. “That’s not something I want or need to know.”

“That could change.”

Willy let out a wail. Delilah smiled. “Not likely.” Not with Willy the ultimate sexual mood-killer in residence. Strange as all get out, but it looked as if Willy could protect her from the wiles of Benjamin until he felt he’d repaid his debt of honor to her and got the heck away from her.

Benjamin spent the afternoon baby sitting. When the clock passed five
P.M.
, he got an uncomfortable feeling that Delilah would be late. The image of her going out and forgetting to return for Willy made him itchy. After all, she had emphasized that she was a bad girl. He and Willy had gotten along fine, but Benjamin didn’t want to spend the night with the baby.

No sooner had the disturbing thoughts slithered through his mind like a serpent than Delilah burst through the door surrounded by the aroma of Chinese food and carrying bags from the grocery store and Chinese take-out.

“Nothing fancy,” she said to Benjamin. “But I thought you might need some sustenance after hours with Wild Willy. How was he?” she asked warily.

“One diaper change and a nap,” Benjamin said with a shrug as he took some of the bags from her. “He was easy.” He pulled out two boxes of baby cookies and shook his head. “You’re not really planning on giving these to Willy, are you?”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on eating them myself. Although I won’t make any promises,” she said with a mischievous grin.

“Too much sugar,” Benjamin said, shaking his head again. “Bad for his teeth, bad for his mood.”

“He doesn’t have that many teeth yet,” Delilah pointed out. “And his mood isn’t that great either.”

“It doesn’t matter. You can rot his teeth out before they’re through the gums.”

She gave him a double-take. “How do you know so much about this?”

“I turned on the baby channel while Willy was taking a nap.”

She gave him a look that mixed curiosity, amusement and entirely too much sex appeal. She shook her head. “Not every man could stand there and say he’d watched the baby channel and still look like a stud.”

“What does watching the baby channel have to do with my—” He didn’t want to say the stupid word.

“I don’t know. Studs just seem to be more interested in other things on television.”

“Like the World Wrestling Federation?” He laughed. “You can put the intellectual value of that show at minus—”

“I watch wrestling.”

He blinked. “Why?”

“I like the bodies,” she said, lifting her hands and moving her fingers as if she were stroking imaginary bodies. “Muscles. Probably a primitive thing. You wouldn’t understand,” she said in a smoky voice that made him want to pull at his collar.

“So that’s the kind of guy you’re into?” he asked. “All brawn and no brain.”

“I like a man who’s open to suggestion, my suggestion,” she said and touched her tongue to her lip as she emptied the bags.

Her mouth was plump and rosy and it was too easy to imagine those lips of hers wrapped around his— His body reacted to the graphic image and he mentally swore. “Some women are turned on by men who can take charge.”

She nodded. “That’s been a weakness of mine every now and then, too, but I just keep reminding myself that taking charge can equal controlling, dominating. About the cookies, here’s the deal. The cookies are here in case of emergency.”

“What constitutes an emergency?”

“Stop acting like a lawyer. That’s to be decided later. Do you like cashew shrimp?”

“Yes.”

“Me too, so you’ll have to fight me for it,” she said and pulled out a bottle of beer. “Corona with a lime okay for you?”

“No Dom Perignon?” he teased.

“Not around here,” she said and pulled a bottle of budget bubbly from the bag. She put boxes of rice and oat cereal along with a dozen jars of baby food on the kitchen counter, then mixed a cocktail for herself and cut a lime for Benjamin’s beer.

“Isn’t Chinese food and a champagne cocktail a strange combination?” he asked as he accepted the beer she offered and joined her at the small table in the kitchen.

“A champagne cocktail goes with any food, any meal. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Dessert and in the Jacuzzi.”

“Except you’re not supposed to drink while you’re in the Jacuzzi.”

She smiled. “I’m not supposed to do a lot of things. Have you always been such a stickler for rules?”

“A lot of the time,” he said, but Delilah made him rethink some of those rules on a minute-by-minute basis. “Have you always been determined to break the rules?”

“Pretty much,” she said. “But you must remember that a rule breaker gave birth to me. It’s in the genes,” she confided. The phone rang and she picked it up. “Hello?”

Her eyes widened. “Nanny Finders. You want to send over an applicant now? That’s fine. But did you tell her we’re using cloth diapers?” Delilah nodded. “Good. I’ll be looking for her.” She hung up the phone. “The answer to our prayers could be walking through that door any minute.”

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