Got A Hold On You (Ringside Romance) (19 page)

“We’ll get home tomorrow,” he assured.

“Today, right now! I need to get home right now!”

And then Frankie did something she’d never done in
front of any man. She broke down into hysterical tears.

“Shhhh,” he consoled, putting his arm around her and
rocking slightly. “You’re tired and hungry. We’ll fix that too. You’ll be fine.
Everything will be fine, honey. You’ll see.”

Jack had been sincere when he said everything was
going to be okay. Unfortunately he had no control over the timing of the
Cornhusker’s Festival.

As the security guard, Rich Parker, drove them to the
fourth and last hotel in the county, it became apparent that they couldn’t have
been stranded in Sterling Falls on a worse weekend. Hotels were booked and
stores were closed in honor of the festival. He and Frankie needed food, sleep,
and clothes, and not necessarily in that order.

He glanced at Frankie, curled into a ball in the
backseat. She stared absently out the window as she nibbled on a gloved finger.
He’d offered to sit with her but she’d refused, becoming even more agitated.
Hell, he’d never seen someone come apart so quickly. One minute she was in
charge, barking orders and making demands. The next, tears were streaming down
her face, dotting her pale skin below the mask.

“Let me talk to Pete,” Rich said into the radio. He
glanced at Jack. “Don’t worry. We’ll find you someplace to bunk. If nothing
else, you can stay in my barn.”

A whimper-howl echoed from the backseat.

“But I’m sure we can find a nice room somewhere,” Rich
offered, glancing at Frankie through the rearview mirror.

“Rich we’ve got something!” a voice squawked through
the radio. “Come by the Lucky Lady.”

“Thanks, Pete, you’re a lifesaver. Ten-four.” He
grinned at Jack. “No problem.”

“The Lucky Lady?”

“Best hotel in Whiteside County. You’ll love it.
Overlooks Mortimer Park where they’re holding the festival. You should come
down. It’s a lot of fun. Rides, games, entertainment. Tailspin and the
Four-Eyed Iguanas are playing tonight. Last night we had a Liberace impersonator.”

“Thanks, but I think we could use some rest.” He
glanced over his shoulder at Frankie.

“Is she okay?” Rich whispered.

“She’ll be fine. She’s tough, aren’t ya’, Frank?”

She squeaked and buried her face in her gloved hands.
Jack was getting worried. He couldn’t stand the bossy, arrogant, tough-as-nails
niece, but he’d take her any day over the fragile woman trembling in the
backseat. It made him want to reach out and comfort her, hold her, make
everything okay.

The last time he’d felt that way he’d walked into the
biggest mistake of his life. His relationship with Sandra went from comforting
to a crazed sexual encounter in less than three minutes. Not something to base
a long-lasting relationship on.

Neither was deception, which was the Franken Niece’s
modus operandi. And what about that scene last night with the bondage? He
balled his hand into a fist and tapped it against the window of the minivan.
What was
that
about? Her way of
completely humiliating him?

She hadn’t succeeded if that was her goal. She’d only
added to his confusion about being attracted to two very different women who
were actually the same person.

This whole situation was giving him a headache. What
he wouldn’t give for a thick, juicy cheeseburger and a beer, followed by ten
hours of sleep. It wasn’t like got much sleep last night, lying in bed,
thinking about what almost happened with Tiger Lady.

Then he remembered: It was Frankie who’d tied him up
and straddled him, igniting his body with need. She never would have gone
through with it. It was all a big joke to her.

At least he’d sleep well tonight in a hotel room,
protected from Frankie by a half inch of drywall. If there was one thing he was
good at it was sleeping in hotel rooms. He’d sure as hell had enough practice.

“There’s The Lucky Lady Hotel.” The security guard
pointed to a neon sign of a woman in a full-length evening gown showing
considerable cleavage. “It’s fancy. The Kiwanis hosted their awards banquet
there last month.”

“As long as they’ve got beds and room service.”

“No problem.”

They pulled into the circular drive. Fans crowded the
entrance, screaming and waving signs.

“Word must have gotten out you were coming,” Rich
said.

Frankie uttered a squawk from the backseat. Jack
sucked in his breath. He needed to be alone right now more than he needed food,
sleep, or a new life. Scanning the row of grinning faces, he caught sight of a
little girl jumping up and down waving a Black Jack Banger foam hammer.

“Peter Mills, the manager, will be waiting for you,”
Rich said. “He’s got it all set up.” He glanced over his shoulder at Frankie,
then back at Jack. “Good luck.”

“Looks like I’ll need it, huh?” Jack got out of the
minivan and opened the back door. “Come on, kid.”

She clung to the opposite door handle with both paws.
Leaning into the car, he said, “Whaddya know? I got a coward on my hands. Is
that right? You a coward, Frank?”

Something sparked in her eyes.

“Figures. Must run in the family since your uncle’s
the biggest coward to walk the planet.” He pushed away from the car and turned
to greet the fans. A car door slammed behind him. Out of the corner of his eye
he spied Frankie step up beside him, her chin high, her lips curled into a
forced smile.

That’s my girl
.

“Out of the way! Out of the way!” a voice ordered from
the back of the crowd. “This man’s here for a good night’s sleep, not to be
pawed at. You had your chance at the mall.” A tall, skinny guy dressed in a
pinstriped suit broke through the crowd. “Sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m
Peter Mills, manager of The Lucky Lady.”

“Nice to meet you, Peter.”
 
Jack shook his hand.
 
“This is Tatianna.”

“It’s so good to meet you, ma’am. The whole town
watches the show every week. You’ve really livened things up.”

“Thank you.”

She actually spoke. That was a good sign.

“We’ve got the perfect room all ready for you.” Peter
pushed through the crowd and led them into the lobby. “I panicked at first when
Rich called but then my assistant reminded me that we had one very special
opening.” He plucked a brochure from his breast pocket. “The pride of this
establishment: The Bridal Suite.”

Frankie stumbled and Jack caught her elbow to keep her
upright. Peter hadn’t noticed her reaction. A good thing. The hotel manager was
obviously proud of his special offer.

“It was booked for the Keller wedding, but the kids
got fed up with the family bickering and eloped. They were going to get married
on the Ferris wheel during the hog races. Anyway, the townsfolk were very
disappointed but Mr. Keller’s got a good attitude. He decided to renew his vows
with the wife and not cancel the reception. It won’t be exactly quiet in the
hotel tonight, but the bridal suite was designed with an extra layer of drywall
to keep sound out, or keep it in.” Peter winked.

Frankie’s eyes widened and Jack steadied her with a firm
grip on her arm. She stared at his hand as if it sprouted warts.

“The suite is in the west wing, second floor.” Peter
led them up the stairs. “We have our special theme rooms up there. The Bridal
Suite is in the corner for added privacy. I figure you two never did get a
proper honeymoon, so we’re going to do our best to give you one tonight.”

He pushed open the door and Jack froze. People lined
both sides of the hallway, applauding, cheering and howling encouragement. Talk
about pressure. He wondered if they’d be waiting outside in the morning
expecting a full report.

Frankie dug her heels into the thin industrial carpet.

He leaned close and whispered into her ear. “Come on,
sweetheart. Remember what’s at the end of this hallway: a soft bed, room service,
burgers, and champagne. Whatever you want. But you’ve gotta walk.”

She bit her lower lip and scanned the hall. Just when
he thought she was going to make a run for it she looped her arm through his
and lifted her chin.

“You two have fun. And don’t worry about the ‘Do Not
Disturb’ sign. We know not to bother you until at least noon.” Peter slapped
Jack’s shoulder, urging him forward into the mass of fans.

Their applause grew to a deafening pitch. Jack nodded
and offered his best smile.
 
Frankie clutched his arm and picked up the pace. Her taste buds must be
kicking into overdrive.

The fans waved corn stalks and tossed kernels like it
was rice and Frankie and Jack had stepped out of church. What a mess this was
going to be to clean up. Surely they had to know the marriage thing was an
angle, that it wasn’t real. On the other hand, plenty of wrestlers and their
real-life wives acted out scripted dramas in front of the cameras. He glanced
over his shoulder at Peter. The man’s eyes lit up as if he hosted the president
of the United States in his hotel. Jack would keep up the charade out of
respect for the manager and the enthusiastic fans that lined the hall.

When they reached the door, he placed his key card in
the slot and glanced back at the crowd. They cheered and whistled. Frankie
pushed past him and disappeared into the room but he hesitated, savoring the
moment. Okay, so
this
he might miss
when he retired, just a little.

A blood-curdling scream from the room jolted him out
of the moment. He raced inside, the door slamming behind him.

His jaw dropped at the sight of the erotic prints
covering the walls, prints of men and women making love in very unusual ways. A
massive, heart-shaped bed, covered in bright red satin sheets and pink
pillowcases filled nearly the entire room. Two white silk robes with the words
“Man” and “Wife” monogrammed in red lay at the foot of the bed. A mirror was
strategically attached to the ceiling above the bed and a dozen heart-shaped
candles lit the room with a warm glow. It smelled of roses and lilacs…and sin.

“I can’t stay here.” She backed up into him.

“It’s okay.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “We
need a room and this is the only one in town. Food, remember? We can order some
food and eat in peace.”

“This feels so…so…”

“Sacrilegious?”

She nodded.

“God will understand.”

“But this was set up for a real married couple. We
can’t do this. It isn’t right.”

He untied the mask and slipped it off her face.
Mascara dotted her cheeks and panic filled her eyes. He brushed his thumb across
her pale skin. “The manager was generous enough to offer us the suite. It means
a lot to him that he’s helping us out.
 
It’s our responsibility is to accept graciously.”

She glanced down at the red shag carpet.

“Look at me.” With a crooked index finger he guided
her gaze to meet his. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”

Not yet anyway.

He lowered his hand and cleared his throat. “I’ll call
room service. You get changed.” He grabbed the “Wife” robe off the bed and
handed it to her.

She plucked something off her head. “There’s corn in
my hair,” she croaked.

“Go on. Take a bath. It’ll make you feel better.”

She stared up at him, eyes innocent, like a doe. What
he wouldn’t give for a complete lack of conscience. Even with makeup smearing
her face the woman was more attractive than a New York model.

INSANITY
, a
voice screeched in his head.

“I’ll get us something to eat,” he rasped.

Nodding, she stepped over the bathroom threshold and
paused. She turned and shot him a tender smile. His heart skipped a beat.

“Thanks,” she said and closed the door.

Frankie glanced around the spacious bathroom and
sighed with appreciation when she spotted the Jacuzzi-style tub. The designer
of the suite probably figured it would be shared by two people.

Ambling to the tub, she flipped on the water. A pink
bottle of Passionflower bubbles along with a loofah sponge and massage gloves
were conveniently sitting on the edge of the tub. She added bubbles to the
water and went to the sink, gasping at her reflection in the mirror.

“Heavens.” She placed her palms on her spotted cheeks
and wanted to cry all over again. That would be twice in two days when she
hadn’t cried in years.

What was happening to her? Her normally colorful eyes
looked gray and bloodshot, her skin was pale and splotchy. No wonder Jack was
being so nice to her. He thought she’d gone mad. First the temper tantrum, then
her personality transformation from Tatianna the Tigress to Wendy the Wimp.

No matter. It wasn’t like he was attracted to her.
She’d gotten that message loud and clear during last night’s blunder.

Her emotions were a tangled mess, her muscles bunched
into knots above her shoulder blades and her stomach cried out for food. She
could hardly wait to slip into the tub and pretend she was back home, safe and
sound.

Far away from Black Jack Hudson. Although she had to
admit he wasn’t acting like his usual hard-assed self.

Good thing she wasn’t wearing her contact lenses
today. Strange that she didn’t seem to miss them or her glasses.

She stripped off the skimpy bikini and feathered skirt
and hung them on the back of the door. Maxine’s efforts to beef up the costume
with feathers and fluff had helped Frankie become more comfortable in her role
as femme fatale feline. Or was she getting used to acting as Tatianna? No, that
would never happen, not to conservative Frankie McGee.

Sinking into the cloud of bubbles, she let loose a
moan that probably sounded like a woman reaching climax. Not that she would
know since she’d accepted the fact she fell into that small percentage of women
who couldn’t experience an orgasm. Just as well. Losing control in any way,
shape or form completely unnerved her.