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about everything. You’re a famous professional golfer, not an escort. And according to that magazine cover, you’re a multimillionaire.” Realization struck her. “That wasn’t your friend’s house at all. It’s yours, isn’t it? Everything you told me was a lie.”
“You aggravated me.” He pulled away from the light.
“Me! I didn’t do anything.”
“That’s a bald-faced lie. You started bossing me around the minute you laid eyes on me, making out lists, giving orders, and poking me with that umbrella.”
“I never poked you with my umbrella.”
“It felt like it.”
“I apologize,” she said icily.
“Good. I apologize, too, so now we’re even.”
“Not even close.”
For the first time, she thought of Francesca’s part in this. But as she recalled their conversation, she couldn’t remember Francesca ever telling her that Kenny was a professional escort. Instead, she’d described him as a friend. Still, somehow Emma had gotten the idea that he did this professionally, and she distinctly remembered asking Francesca if seventy-five dollars a day would be enough to cover his fee.
Only now did she remember the way Francesca had laughed. “Tell him I said he’d work for fifty.” Her friend could have had no idea how her small joke would backfire.
She no longer had the energy to fight with him. “This isn’t going to work for either of us, Mr. Traveler. It’s obvious you don’t like me, and I certainly don’t like—”
“That’s not exactly true. When you aren’t pointing that umbrella and telling me what to do, you’re fairly enjoyable to be around.” He swung out onto a four-lane highway. “At least you’re not boring, which is more than I can say for most of the people I meet.”
“How flattering. The fact is we can never recover from the bad start we’ve had. First thing in the morning, I’ll call Francesca and ask her to recommend someone else to help me. We don’t need to see each other again.”
The car slowed. “Call Francesca?”
“I’ll tell her we have a personality conflict. She’ll understand.”
“I—uh . . . I’d just as soon we leave Francesca out of this.”
“I can’t do that. She insisted I call her after I got in to report on my trip.”
“I’ll just bet she did,” he muttered, then glanced over at her. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you a hundred dollars a day if you’ll let me stay on as your travel guide. I’ll do all the driving, take you wherever you want. All you have to do is enjoy the scenery and keep telling Francesca loud and clear that everything’s fine between us.”
The lazy fool had vanished. In his place was a determined stranger with a hard jaw and intense eyes. It took only a moment for the pieces to fall into place.
“Francesca’s got some hold over you, doesn’t she? That’s why you agreed to do this in the first place.”
“You might say.” He pulled off the highway onto a service road, then swung into the parking lot of a luxurious-looking hotel.
“What is it?”
“I think both of us have had enough high drama for tonight.”
“Tell me.”
“A hundred dollars a day. Do you agree?”
Mesmerized, she stared at him. All trace of humor had vanished from his expression, and his perpetually smiling mouth had flatlined. This was a man accustomed to getting what he wanted.
She saw now that she’d underestimated him from the moment they’d met, and she wondered how many other people had done the same thing. It was a mistake she wouldn’t repeat.
“Two hundred,” she found herself saying, just to punish him. “Plus expenses.” One part of her wondered if she’d lost her mind, but the other part of her had gone weak with relief. Whether he realized it or not, he had just handed her the power she needed to control him for the next two weeks. From this moment on, Emma owned Kenny Traveler, and after what he’d done to her tonight, she didn’t have any qualms about using him to get what she needed.
The grim set of his features as he pulled beneath the hotel’s porte cochere told her it hadn’t taken him long to figure out that the balance of power had just shifted. Tension clipped away the soft edges of his Texas drawl. “I’ll get you a room. And I want your word that you’ll be down in the lobby waiting for me at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”
