Sweet Southern Betrayal (5 page)

“Do you need money?”

“No. I don’t need money.”
Lie number two
. He was reaching for his wallet again, a habit that was starting to piss her off. Damn it, there was only one way to do this.

“We’re married.”

That shut him up.

Teague’s skin paled and he swayed a little on his feet. Risa reached out to grab his arm knowing exactly how he felt. She’d arrived home ready to pack her bag and get out of town, convinced that her life couldn’t get any more screwed up. But she was wrong.

She’d actually slid down the wall into a puddle on the floor when she’d opened the letter from the State of Nevada congratulating her on becoming Mrs. William Teague Elliott IV. And to make it very real, a second envelope from the wedding chapel contained their wedding photos and DVD.

Big Tony had been determined to fuck up Teague’s life.

“Married? That can’t be…are you sure?” Teague stopped, his hand in a tight grip on hers, followed by a squeeze. His face morphed into a wide grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Afternoon, Reverend Parker. Mrs. Parker.”

Risa nodded at the couple as they walked by, noting how the woman sneaked a glance over her shoulder before they entered a bustling diner down the street. The smile stayed plastered on his face and she got the message loud and clear—this wasn’t the place to have the conversation, Teague lived here, and he obviously had a reputation to maintain.

“Let’s go somewhere more private to discuss this.” He led her over to the door to his law office, and leaned in, speaking to a woman sitting behind a desk. “Jerline, something came up so I’m going home for the day. Why don’t you close up early?”

“Of course, Mr. Elliott.” The woman peered past him and gave Risa the once-over, the thin line of her mouth telling her she wasn’t sure she liked the woman who was clearly the reason her handsome boss was closing early. “Is there anything you need me to do for you? Any problem you need help with?”

Risa bit back a laugh at the woman’s words, her tone indicating she thought Risa was the problem. It also implied that her particular brand of assistance could extend to helping to bury the body, if necessary. Tony Giambetti would give his right arm to have an employee as loyal as Jerline.

“No, thank you. It’s nothing I can’t handle. Good night.”

Teague closed the door and scooped up her suitcase with one hand, his other at the small of Risa’s back, steering her over to an adjacent door, where he inserted his key and waved her up the stairs. On the second-floor landing he unlocked another door and ushered her into a large, light-filled apartment. It wasn’t huge, but it was modern, with high-end touches, and it was sterile. No personal photos on the tables or walls. Nothing stuck to the stainless steel fridge. Teague might live here, but had no intention on staying from what she could tell.

The clang of his keys landing in a silver bowl on a side table jangled too loudly in the silence of the space and set her nerves a little more on edge.

Teague walked over to the kitchen, opening the door to the fridge and peering inside. “Do you need anything? I’ve got water, beer, tea…”

“Water would be great.” Risa laid her purse on the large granite-covered island and settled on a chair. She opened her bag, pulling out the documents Teague would want to see.

“Okay, so why do you think we’re married?” Teague slid a bottle of water toward her, taking a long swallow from his beer before leaning on his elbows on the countertop. His face was grim, the tightness around his mouth matching the coldness in his eyes, but also betraying that he was within a couple seconds of losing his tightly wound control.

“I got this in the mail yesterday.” She handed over their certificate of marriage, watching as he read the words she had memorized.
Clark County, Nevada. Groom: William Teague Elliott IV. Bride: Larisa Ellen Clay. Location: Graceland Wedding Chapel.

His review complete, Teague placed the certificate on the counter and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was at the “holy shit” part of this little adventure, and she gave him his space to freak the hell out. God knows she had.

“But there were no photographs. No rings.” He looked up at her, still baffled and lost.

“Oh no, there are pictures. Plenty of them.” She opened the larger envelope and slid the pictures out in a fan shape on the island so he could get an eyeful. “Apparently, we splurged on the ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’ Elvis wedding package. It included photos and a DVD. Wait until you check out the ceremony. It’s a keeper.”

Teague lifted each photo to get a better look. The look of horror on his face grew with each shot.

“Oh fuck.” Teague slumped against the countertop, head hung down and shoulder muscles bunched tightly under his suit jacket. “This can’t be happening. My partnership…this is…” He slammed his fist down on the counter, knocking over his bottle of beer with a loud crash that echoed in the silent apartment. “Damn it!”

Walking around the island, she approached him cautiously, unsure if he would allow her close enough to touch. But when she reached out a hand, he allowed her to tug him into a hug, squeezing him hard. It seemed it was the least she could do for Teague.

She’d screwed him over so royally.

“This is going to ruin everything,” he murmured against her hair with such bitter finality that she almost fell to her knees with the weight of her guilt at what she’d done.

It was in that moment she decided she wouldn’t tell him about Big Tony. They’d take care of this little marriage problem and she’d disappear. She and Pepper had talked about starting over, and now seemed like a really good time to do it.

“Hey, you okay?” Risa pulled back far enough to look at him. She cradled his face in her hands, stroking the stubbled line of his jaw. “You’re a lawyer, right? You can fix this. No problem.”

She wasn’t sure if she was asking or telling, but suddenly she was desperate to hear something. It occurred to her that her sense of calm had been based on the belief that Teague could fix this quickly and without too much fuss. Now she wasn’t sure if that assumption had been a safe one to make. But she knew she had to be free to get away from Big Tony and disappear. He was her last hope.

Teague stared down at her, only slightly hesitating before nodding and rallying enough to offer her a weak smile that did little to boost her confidence. He squeezed her in assurance. “Yes, I’ll take care of this. Don’t worry. But this needs to be our secret. My job—”

Risa jumped and involuntarily moved closer when the door to the apartment opened quickly and three people walked into the space in a jumble of noise and laughter. A young woman with a cute pixie cut bounded into the room, dragging a tall, handsome man behind her. An older, smartly dressed woman followed more sedately behind them and closed the door.

“Teague! Did you forget about dinner? Jerline said you had company. What—” The young woman stopped a few steps from the island, her expression a mixture of confusion, shock, but mostly avid curiosity. “Who’s this?”

Risa stared back at this group of strangers, ready and willing to follow Teague’s lead.

“Teague?” The older woman stepped forward, zeroing in on where their arms were still wrapped around each other and then down to the array of papers and photographs laid out before them on the counter. Her head whipped back up, eyes wide, but shrewdly assessing the situation.

The man saw the photos at about the same time and he wasted no time stepping forward to scoop up one of the photographs. Teague dropped his forehead onto her shoulder, a deep pained groan of “oh fuck” escaping from his lips.

Apparently the gig was up.

Whoever these people were, they weren’t going to jump on the “let’s keep this a secret” bandwagon.

“No fucking way.” The guy laughed, the lines around his baby blues crinkling at the corners. He let it loose, almost doubled over with the hilarity of the situation, holding the picture up when the two women crowded around him to get a better look.

The younger woman gasped at the picture. “Teague, who
is
this woman?”

“Fuck me,” Teague murmured, his grip tightening almost painfully around her waist as the stressful seconds ticked by. He finally lifted his head, answering clearly and with no hesitation.

“She’s my wife.”

Chapter Five

This morning had been so normal.

Just a few short hours ago he’d risen early and gotten in his seven-mile run before jumping in the shower and getting dressed for work. He’d eaten his usual breakfast at the Comfort and checked off the three weeks remaining on his time here in Elliott cleaning up the mess his father had left behind. At lunch, he’d spoken to Leland and played it cool when he’d informed Teague the firm’s partnership board was going to announce his partnership any day now.

A firm that would not look favorably upon a partner showing up with a showgirl wife he’d married during a drunken spree in Las Vegas. Harrison & Duff cleaned up scandalous messes for other people, but they didn’t tolerate them among their ranks.

This morning he’d been a single man and his life has been so much simpler.

Taylor broke the awkward silence. “When did this happen?”

Teague locked eyes with Risa and hugged her closer, hoping she heard the “play along” primal scream running through his head. He needed time to figure out how he was going to un-fuck this situation. He smiled down at his bride in what he hoped was eternal love, but he’d settle for fond affection with only a hint of nausea. “After your wedding.”

“How? How did this happen?”

He ignored her question because he hadn’t figured out the right answer to that particular question yet. Introductions were easier. He stepped back, gesturing to the woman at his side. “Everyone, this is Risa Clay.”

“Oh baby, you mean Risa Clay
Elliott
,” Risa said, her smile big, bright, and full of sappy newlywed hearts and flowers. He could have kissed her for being such a good sport. “Why don’t you introduce me?”

“Of course. This is my mother, Marian Elliott, my sister, Mary-Taylor Landon—”

“Just call me Taylor,” his sister said with a big, goofy grin. She was enjoying the hell out of this and didn’t bother to disguise it. She, as usual, was going to be a problem.

“And one of my oldest friends and brother-in-law, Lucky Landon.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Lucky.” Risa cocked her head to the side, her silver eyes sparkling with mischief as she charmed them all. “All of you. I know this must come as quite a shock.”

“Now
that’s
the understatement of the century,” Lucky said, laughing until Marian gave him the look that had turned bigger and badder men to stone.

“Where are you from, my dear?” his mother asked, trying her best to remain the epitome of Southern gentility, but Teague could tell she wanted to kill him for letting her find out this way. His mother was a stickler for manners, and dumping an unknown daughter-in-law in her lap was the height of rudeness.

“I live in Las Vegas, ma’am.”

“And what do you do there?”

“I’m a dancer on the strip.”

Oh hell. It was amazing the incredible number of vivid, tawdry, and embarrassing images those six little words could conjure in the span of few seconds. In HD, no less.

Teague scrambled to clear this misunderstanding up before his mother’s sharp inhale sucked the oxygen out of the room and killed them all. Risa had the same idea and they stumbled over each other to set the record straight.

“No. I’m a performer in a
real
show.”

“She’s not a stripper.”

“I have costumes. We sing and dance—”

“All of her clothes stay on,” Teague said in a rush, relieved to see the color return to his mother’s face. This situation was going to be hard enough to navigate without letting that rumor get around.

“So, you two met in Vegas?” Taylor asked.

Teague met Risa’s gaze as he lifted her hand to brush a kiss across her soft skin. She looked back, her eyes searching his gaze for their next move. He didn’t want them to know he’d married her when he was drunk out of his mind—the fewer people who knew, the better. He might be able to get out of this with some dignity in the end.

This was all about damage control. He did this every fucking day for other people.

“I met her through work. About a year ago.”

Lucky’s eyebrows shot up and he opened his mouth to say something, but Teague gave him a look that thankfully shut him up. Of course he recognized Risa from the photo on Beck’s phone, but no one else had to know that fact. Ever.

“Oh, do you own a business, Risa? What kind?” Taylor said.

“I do.” Risa looked at him helplessly, her alarmed expression causing his stomach to lurch down into his toes. He wasn’t going to like where this went, he just knew it.

“What kind?”

Risa’s voice was firm, no hint of an apology or embarrassment when she finally answered. “I sell sensual marital aids and exclusive nightwear for couples.”

“What?” His mother wrinkled her nose in incomprehension.