The Downfall of a Good Girl Read online

  Her jaw tightened. “But I am a grown woman, and therefore able to decide when I’m cold. New Orleans isn’t exactly the Arctic Circle. I think I can survive a few minutes outside without frostbite.”

  Good Lord, were they really fighting about the temperature? He chuckled, and Vivi shot him a look.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You’d argue the earth was flat just because I said it was round.”

  Vivi’s lips pressed together as the truth and ridiculousness of the situation was clarified for her. She cleared her throat and lifted her chin again. “Possibly. I do like a lively debate.”

  “You just like to try to prove me wrong.”

  She shrugged, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. “That too.”

  This current scene, playing out in all of its ridiculousness, proved that they really couldn’t go on like this. It would make them both crazy, and it held zero appeal. “How about a cease-fire?” he said.

  That got her attention in a big way, and he had no idea why.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Just until this Saints and Sinners thing is over. We’re going to have to be around each other and the constant battling is giving me a headache.”

  Shock caused her jaw to drop, so he softened it with a promise.

  “You can go back to hating me with a passion on Ash Wednesday.”

  “That rather defeats the purpose. You know that half the interest this year comes from the fact we’re well-known to be adversarial.”

  That was true. Vivi’s little showdown at the cleanup site on Tuesday had been the lead in every news item about Saints and Sinners. “I didn’t say we had to become best friends. Just a small attempt at tolerance so I don’t have to watch my back all the time.”

  Vivi seemed to find the proposition amusing for some reason, but she finally nodded. “I agree. Now, in the spirit of this cease-fire, will you please step aside?”

  He bowed deep from the waist and stepped aside. “Of course.”

  Vivi nearly hit him with her wings again as she put her hands against the door and pushed. The door didn’t open. She pushed again, harder, but nothing happened.

  She turned to him. “A little help, please?”

  He tried, but the door wouldn’t open. A second, harder push also accomplished nothing. He cursed, and Vivi looked at him sharply.

  “It can’t be locked.”

  “It’s either locked or stuck. Either way, it’s not opening.”

  “What kind of door locks people inside?”

  He was thinking the same thing. The door was smooth and blank on this side, and he couldn’t locate any kind of mechanism to explain why the door wouldn’t open now. “It must lock from the outside somehow.”

  “It wasn’t locked a minute ago.”

  “True.”

  Vivi turned sharply, smacking him with her wings again. “Oh, damn it. That guy was carrying a box when he came out. I bet he came back and threw the lock.”

  “That’s as good an explanation as any.”

  “This is going to be embarrassing.” She thought for a minute, then sighed. “Who can you call that will come unlock the door? Discreetly,” she added.

  “No one.” At her look, he added, “I’m not exactly close friends with anyone on this boat.”

  That got him another sigh. “Let me think. Caroline McGee is here, and I’m pretty sure I know her number. I’ll never live this down, but she’ll be less likely to make a big production out of it. Can I borrow your phone?”

  “Where’s yours?”

  “In my purse in the dining room. Why are you being difficult?”

  “Because mine is in my jacket in the dining room as well.”

  Her eyebrows went up. “You’re kidding me.”

  He pointed to his very tight leather pants. “No pockets.”

  Vivi cursed a blue streak that would have been amusing in a different situation. “Okay, this is going to be so embarrassing, but…” She made a fist and beat against the door. “Hey! Help! There are people trapped in here!”

  He leaned against the steel wall and let her bang until she stopped and rubbed her hand. “Do you really think anyone will hear you?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Everyone is at the other end of the boat. There’s a band, the engine noise…”

  “Then break it down.” She waved a hand toward the door. “I’ll pay for the damage.”

  “Break it down? Are you crazy?”

  “Be all macho. Put your shoulder into it.”

  “It’s a metal door, Vivi. No one’s that macho.”

  “So we’re just stuck in here?”

  “People are bound to miss us eventually. We’re not exactly just part of the crowd tonight. They’ll come looking.”

  “Great. I’m going to die in a storage room.” She rubbed a hand over her eyes.

  “Relax. We’re not going to die in here. Worst case scenario is that we have to wait until we dock and the engines are turned off. Someone will hear us shouting then.”

  Vivi started pacing. The wings were smacking against everything—including him—but at least she would be warming up some with the exercise.

  “This is your fault, you know,” she snapped.

  It was his turn to sigh at her. “So much for that truce.”

  “That was agreed before you got me trapped in a freakin’ closet.”

  “I didn’t lock the door.”

  “No, but you pulled me in here. Therefore it’s your fault.”

  He threw his hands up. “Fine. It’s my fault. I’m very sorry, Vivi, and you can berate me all you like.”

  Vivi merely frowned at him in response.

  He looked around with the vague notion there might be something in here of help, but it was just a storage closet. Boxes of dishes and glasses were stacked neatly on shelves next to bundles of cloth napkins. With no other options, he sat on the floor and leaned against the metal wall to wait.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting comfortable. You might as well have a seat.”

  “I’ll pass, thank you.” She crossed her arms and adjusted the shawl.

  “The floor’s not that dirty. You can even grab one of those napkins if you’re worried about your dress.”

  Vivi shot him a withering look, and he realized the problem: her wings. The wings were hard to sit in, but it could be done. In a chair, at least. On the floor it would be impossible. “Want me to help you get your wings off?”

  “No. I’ll just stand.”

  Vivi couldn’t even lean properly against something with those wings in the way. Unless, of course, she wanted to lean face-forward against the wall. Connor laughed to himself at the visual. He looked at Vivi’s dress carefully, visualizing the wings’ harness. Assuming hers was designed similarly to his, she’d have to strip to the waist to get them off. Her refusal made a little sense then, but he couldn’t believe her modesty would go that far.

  “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  “I will.”

  He kind of hoped she would. Or that she wouldn’t. Being locked in a closet with Vivi—much less a half-naked Vivi—was dangerous and confusing territory. Maybe it would be best if she didn’t. He would just hope they weren’t stuck in here for very long.

  Vivi paced and Connor stared at the walls. Time slowed to a crawl, and without a watch or his phone he had no idea how long they’d been in there. The silence and tension were palpable things, but he was bored out of his mind. “Talk about déjà vu.”

  Vivi jumped at the break in the silence. “Excuse me?”

  “Mike Delacroix’s party—sophomore year. We played Seven Minutes in Heaven, remember? Although in our case, it was more like Three Minutes of Insults Followed by Four Minutes of Stony Silence.” He chuckled, but Vivi’s look clearly said she didn’t share his amusement at the memory.

  “How could I forget that? It was one of the most humiliating moments of my life.”

  “You�
��ve led a charmed life, then.”

  “Oh, shut up. I could have easily forgotten those seven minutes and lived them down if you hadn’t told Julie Hebert how I threw myself at you and how awful it was.”

  “I did no such thing.” He might have been a juvenile ass, but that was just simply untrue and he felt unfairly vilified.

  “No one would believe my story that nothing happened, and Andy Ackerman broke up with me the next day for cheating on him.”

  “So that’s what happened between you two.” At her frown, he added, “You know that Julie wanted Andy for herself.”

  “Duh. They started going out a week later.”

  “Not that it makes a difference now, but I never said anything to Julie Hebert about anything. The girl was a viper.”

  “She still is.”

  “But you don’t believe me?”

  She shrugged, but it was tight, not casual. “As you said, it doesn’t make a difference now.”

  “Then why bring it up?”

  “You’re the one who brought it up.”

  “I was just trying to make conversation.”

  She rolled her eyes again. “How ‘bout them Saints?”

  He took the hint. “They had a decent season. I missed most of it, of course. The NFL doesn’t get a lot of airtime in Europe.”

  “Pity.” Vivi was shifting from one foot to the other. Her legs had to be getting tired. She reached around, experimenting with the wings’ position, but they didn’t move much. Certainly not enough for her to get comfortable at all.

  He let it continue for a few minutes before trying again. “Seriously, Vivi. Let me help you get those off.”

  She hesitated, and he expected another refusal.

  “Fine.” Her voice was pained.

  It took him a second to move past the surprise that she’d agreed to his help. He levered himself up off the floor as Vivi turned her back to him. A row of hooks ran from the neckline, down her back, and ended a few inches below her waist. Vivi couldn’t have gotten out of this alone if she’d wanted to. He wondered who’d gotten her into it in the first place.

  He undid the three hooks above the place where her wings connected, carefully keeping his fingers away from her skin, and the shoulder straps of her dress loosened and sagged.

  Vivi’s hands came up to grab the bodice and hold it against her chest.

  The hooks underneath the wings were harder to undo, but soon he was staring at the bare length of Vivi’s spine from the wings all the way down to the lacy trim on her panties. She had a lovely back, the musculature defined without looking sharp or harsh. His fingers were an inch away from tracing that line of her spine before he caught himself. Not a good idea. Behave like a gentleman.

  Vivi’s breathing had turned shallow, causing her ribs to move only the tiniest bit with each breath. His own ribs felt too tight against his lungs, and it got even harder to breathe as Vivi pulled her arms out of the dress.

  He couldn’t help her get her shoulders out of the harness without touching her, and the cool softness of her skin seemed to sear his fingers. One hand clutched the fabric over her breasts as she pulled her arm through the first strap. She seemed to be holding her breath as they quickly repeated the action on the other side.

  Then he released the hooks of the strap around her ribs and the wings fell into his hands. He set the wings aside as Vivi shrugged the dress straps back over her shoulders.

  Red lines marred her skin, and without thinking he ran his hands over them to soothe the pain. Vivi gasped at the touch, bringing him quickly back to his senses.

  His hands were shaking like a teenager’s as he quickly re-hooked the dress. Goosebumps covered her skin—from the cold or something else? he wondered. When he stepped back Vivi didn’t turn around immediately, instead taking her time wrapping her shawl around her. With a casualness he didn’t really feel, he returned to his former seat and tried to get comfortable again.

  That was impossible, and he ended up bending his leg at the knee to camouflage the evidence that the ridiculous leather pants seemed to want to advertise.

  “Thank you.” Vivi’s voice was as thin as air. “That feels much better.”

  He swallowed hard. “You’re welcome.”

  Vivi pulled a couple of napkins off the shelf and laid them carefully on the floor. Then she sat, her back against the locked door. It wasn’t an ideal position, but the only other option would be to sit next to him. At this moment he was happy she’d chosen to face him instead. She wrapped her shawl tight around her shoulders before leaning back. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, focusing instead on the fringed edge of her shawl, straightening the strings into neat, precise lines.

  The tension and silence were now suffocating.

  How much longer until they were found?

  CHAPTER SIX

  EVERY breath Vivi took felt like glass cutting into her lungs. She felt drained from bouncing from emotion to emotion, but oddly electrified at the same time. It was disturbing.

  Connor said he wanted her to warm up. Well, she’d accomplished that in spades. Between embarrassment and lust, she might burn to ashes long before anyone ever rescued them.

  She was glad to have the wings off, glad to be able to finally sit down, but once again she was trapped in a small, enclosed space with Connor. And between the last few days of inappropriate thoughts and the touch of his hands against her skin she was primed and nearly shaking with need.

  She clasped her hands together until the knuckles turned white, but she kept them in her lap where they belonged.

  Connor’s hands, she noted, were on his thighs, splaying out in a stretch before he curled them back into loose fists. As she watched, he did it again. She let her eyes cut to his face and saw his jaw tighten.

  “Something wrong with your hands?” The words were out before she realized it.

  His eyes flew to hers. “What?”

  There was something in his voice, but it was a simple question so she didn’t back down. “You’re moving them like they’re cramped or something, and you look like you’re in pain.”

  He was quiet for a moment, examining them, then he shrugged. “It’s tendonitis. I’m supposed to be resting them, not banging away like Jerry Lee Lewis.”

  “Then why did you play?”

  An eyebrow cocked up. “Because how could I say no?”

  “Easy. You say, ‘No, I’m supposed to be resting my hands’.”

  “Gee, why didn’t I think of that?”

  The sarcasm caught her off guard, and it took a second for her to put the pieces together. “I see. You don’t want anyone to know.”

  “Bingo.” He clasped his hands together and let them rest in his lap. “So I’d appreciate it if you kept this information to yourself.”

  He seemed so serious she answered, “I will,” immediately. She met his eyes to show she meant it. “But can I ask why?”

  “Because.”

  Men. “It’s an injury, not a personal failing.”

  “This is my career, Vivi. I don’t need something—however minor it may seem—overshadowing me.”

  “Can’t stand the shadows, can you? Gotta be the superstar.”

  Connor shot her an irritated look, but shrugged instead of biting back.

  She regretted the words instantly. Music was Connor’s life—it always had been—and now, just when he was reaping success for his work, he was facing a problem that could jeopardize that success. Being told he couldn’t play music would be like asking him not to breathe. If the situation were reversed, she’d be freaking out over the possibility. She was ashamed of herself for making light of it, even for a second.

  “I’m sorry. That snark was uncalled for.”

  “Old habits die hard.”

  “True. But look at it this way,” she offered in her best perky voice, “I’m the one person you can trust not to blow sunshine up your skirt. If there was a way for me to give you grief about this, you know I’d do it in a heartbeat. But I’m
coming up empty. If it’s impossible for me, then people who actually like you won’t be able to make anything of it either.”

  Connor shook his head in amused disbelief. “The fact you’re right about that seems unbelievably wrong.”

  “See, you thought having a mortal enemy was a bad thing.” She crossed her feet at the ankles and looked at him with all the innocence she could muster. “Any other hard truths you need hearing? I’ve got nothing better to do, thanks to you.”

  Connor’s eyebrows went up. “Sounds like I owe you a hard truth or two.”

  Ugh. Return of high school trauma. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

  “Scared, Vivi?”

  “Hardly.” She tried to wave it off like it was nothing. “I don’t need you to give me a hard time. I have Lorelei for that.”

  Connor had the nerve to cluck at her.

  I will not take the bait. It might kill her, but she wasn’t opening herself up to Connor’s derision. She wasn’t stupid. “Any idea how long we’ve been in here?”

  “None.”

  How frustrating. “You know, you’d think someone would have noticed you were missing by now.”

  “Just me? You’re not exactly incognito tonight, Saint Vivienne.”

  “But you’re the star attraction.”

  “Jealous?”

  “Not at all.” Oddly, she meant it. “You’ve earned your adulation and all the perks that come with that. We mere mortals just do the best we can.”

  Connor’s laugh was sharp and mocking. “‘Mere mortals?’ Please. Let me tell you something, since we’re sharing hard truths tonight. If I have to hear one more person sing your praises, I just might puke.”

  “My praises? Yeah, right.”

  “‘Vivi is so giving and selfless and hardworking,’” he gushed in a singsong voice. “‘She does so much for the community. Don’t know what we’d do without her…’ Blah, blah, blah. I’m surprised they haven’t built a freakin’ statue in your honor in Jackson Square.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. We mere mortals who lack your saintly perfection are rather sick of it.”

  A happy glow started in her chest. “Wow. Thanks.”

  “That wasn’t a compliment,” he grumped.