The Honeymoon That Wasn't. Debbi Rawlins

      Sighing, she picked up her fork and knife. At least while she ate she could politely ignore Tony. Dallas and Eric were tête-à-tête and Cody had vacated the seat to Dakota’s left five minutes ago to make a phone call. Not that she had much to say to him. Being with her brother at the office for twelve hours a day was quite enough.

      She slid a glance toward Tony. The chair next to Nancy was empty. Dakota jumped at the hand on her shoulder and swung her gaze around.

      Tony grinned, his teeth brilliantly white against his tanned face. “Dakota, right? Dallas’s sister?”

      “Yes, we’ve met once before, haven’t we?”

      The corners of his mouth quirked up slightly and he gestured to Cody’s vacant chair. “You mind?”

      “Suit yourself.” She cringed at the defensive lilt to her voice.

      He didn’t seem to notice, just lowered himself into the chair, mindless of the way his thigh brushed hers. How when he angled toward her, his knee touched her knee. When he stretched his arm along the back of her chair and leaned close, her heart nearly exploded through her chest.

      “I have a question.”

      “Yes?” She inched back to look at him without coming nose to nose. Bad enough his warm sweet breath managed to caress her chin. God, he had such thick dark lashes. So not fair. And his smile as he got closer…

      

      “It’s kind of personal.”

      She swallowed. What could he possibly—

      “Ah, Tony.” Dallas leaned over. “Glad you decided to slum it.”

      “Right.” They exchanged the look of longtime friends.

      “You remember Dakota,” Dallas said, the impish gleam in her eyes all too familiar.

      “Yeah, we were just getting reacquainted until you butted in.”

      Dallas laughed. “So charming, isn’t he?” She glanced briefly at Dakota and then turned a more serious expression toward Tony. “I need to talk to you before you disappear tonight.”

      “Disappear?” He grinned at Dakota. “My motor is just getting revved.”

      She tried to keep a straight face. Tried not to look around to see if anyone heard. Especially not her mother. She picked the napkin off her lap again and pushed back her chair. “Excuse me, please. I have to make a phone call.”

      “Something I said?” Tony asked, his amused dark eyes watching her rise, lingering briefly on her breasts. Not long enough to be rude, but long enough to make her feel as if she were twelve again, awkward, nervous and wanting to suddenly disappear rather than face her parents’ reaction, her mother’s accusing eyes because Dakota had put herself on display.

      She dropped the napkin over her plate and pushed in her chair.

      

      “Aren’t you going to finish your dinner?” Tony couldn’t quite keep his amusement in check. “No dessert unless you clean your plate.”

      She ignored him and addressed Dallas. “You two go ahead and have your talk.”

      “Come on, Dakota. You just got here. Besides, I need to talk to you, too.” Dallas gave her a pleading look that almost had her caving. After all, tomorrow was Dallas’s big day….

      As hard as it was to say no to her sister, Dakota shook her head and picked up her briefcase. Tony was headed someplace she didn’t want to go. At least not here. Certainly not with an audience. “I’m leaving.”

      “I’ll have them bring your bananas Foster.”

      “Think I’ll pass.” In spite of herself, Dakota glanced at Tony.

      “Hmm, that’s what you call that stuff. Some guy named Foster must have come up with it, huh?”

      Dallas laughed.

      Dakota couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not.

      “They’re supposed to offer cognac and then we’re done here,” Dallas said, looking over her shoulder at the headwaiter, who’d already brought out the bottles of brandy. “So if you can’t stay—”

      “What?” Tony spread his hands. “No dancing?”

      “Down, boy. That’s tomorrow night,” Dallas quipped. “As if you can dance.”

      “You talkin’ to me?” Tony scoffed. “Do you have any idea who taught Travolta his moves for Saturday Night Fever?”

      “What were you, about three?”

      

      He shrugged, a grin curving his mouth. “I’m just saying…”

      Dakota shook her head, a little envious of their easy camaraderie. “As I said, I’m leaving.”

      Tony stuck out his chin in acknowledgment. “See ya tomorrow.”

      “Right.” Everyone at the table seemed preoccupied so she skipped a farewell and headed for the door.

      “Don’t be late,” he added.

      Dallas half groaned, half laughed.

      Annoyed, Dakota stopped, but then thought better of turning around and calling attention to them. She kept walking, wondering how in the hell she’d ever found this man attractive.

      WATCHING HER SISTER walk out in that ramrod straight I’d-better-get-out-of-here-before-I-kill-somebody posture Dallas knew too well, she sighed. “Why do you have to antagonize her?”

      Tony dragged his gaze away from the empty doorway. “I think she likes me.”

      “You’re impossible.”

      He smiled. “A little wine, a little tango tomorrow night…” He flattened a hand to his belly and made a swaying dance move. “She’ll be ripe for the picking.”

      “Excuse me? We’re talking about my sister here.”

      “Hey, I’m just talking about asking her out. Where’s your mind at?”

      She gave him a mock glare. Tony was a great guy. Perfect for Dakota if she’d give him a chance. But she wouldn’t. Too many expectations blocked the way. Father wanted her to be a judge, and Cody, a senior partner at the law firm where Dakota worked, not only expected her to rake in the dough but attract high-end clients. Mother, well, she always expected too much of everyone.

      “Seriously, Tony, I need a favor.”

      “Shoot.”

      She glanced over at Eric’s friend to be sure he wasn’t listening, and then leaned closer to Tony. “Remember how I met Eric. Through a prank his friend Tom pulled?”

      “Yeah.”

      “We think he’s up to something again. Like sabotaging our honeymoon.”

      “No way.” Tony gave Tom a harsh look. “Not your honeymoon.”

      “You don’t know Tom. He lives to create the perfect practical joke.”

      “Want me to talk to him?”

      “No, no. I don’t even want him to know we suspect anything. What I would like you to do is act as a decoy.” Dallas felt Eric stirring behind her. Obviously he’d heard, or at least knew what she was doing. They’d discussed the ploy. He didn’t agree with her interference. But of course he didn’t understand the complexities of growing up a Shea.

      “Decoy? How?”

      “You can take a long weekend, right?”

      “Uh, yeah,” he said slowly.

      “Ever been to Bermuda?”

       Tony frowned in disbelief.