Page 89 of Lady Be Good (Wynette, Texas 2)

“Not that I remember.”

Her spirits plummeted. She was no better off now than she’d been when she’d stepped off the plane. “Beddington knew I bought a tabloid, so his spy had to have been right there in the drugstore. But why didn’t he report anything else?”

A shapely female jogger approached, her ponytail swinging, but Kenny didn’t seem to notice. She appreciated the fact that he didn’t look at other women when he was with her. He really was a wonderful man, despite his foibles. Intelligent and entertaining. He also had a surprisingly old-fashioned sense of courtesy. Already today he’d been interrupted at least a dozen times by fans, and he’d responded to all of them politely while, at the same time, making it evident that his first obligation was to her.

They had reached the end of the accessible part of the Riverwalk, and they turned around. It was quiet here, tucked down below the city streets, with only the occasional interruption of a passing river taxi or a stray tourist. The feeling of privacy reminded her of St. Gert’s in the late afternoon. Even with the girls racing about, there were wonderfully secluded spots tucked away here and there.

“I should never have assumed the spy was a man,” she said. “It could just as easily have been a woman.”

“Now I recall I do believe I saw Old Mrs. Cooligan over by the Fannie Mae display. She’s eighty if she’s a day, but she’s real spry.”

“Go on and make fun. It’s creepy knowing that I was being followed, but not being able to figure out who was doing it. And why have they stopped?”

“I understand, sweetheart. And you know how I feel about your attachment to that pile of stones on the other side of the pond, so I’m not going to say anything more about it.”

“I know what you’re thinking.” She regarded him peevishly. “You’re thinking I’m going to turn into one of those dotty, dear things. That I’ll start talking to myself and collecting cats and wearing ratty old jerseys that smell like mothballs.”

“I have to confess those things didn’t enter my mind. Now, seeing you in a black garter belt with—”

“Just because I’m British and unmarried, and because I have a respect for tradition, doesn’t mean I’m eccentric.”

“I believe your freeway just sprouted a strange exit ramp. Where exactly are you headed with this?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Forget it.”

“You know, Lady E, instead of accusing me of psychological abnormalities, you might try looking inside your own muddled brain.”

“Me? I’m as clear as a glass of water.”

“If that’s so, why do you keep seeing yourself as some dried-up old maid?”

“I don’t. But I know I’m not exactly a sexpot.”

“Now, there’s a lie.”

“It isn’t a—” She looked up at him. “What are you saying?”

“That you’re a sexpot.”

“You’re only being nice.”

“I’m only being male. See, I’ve got this thing about your mouth—”

“There you go again! It’s so unfair. If I were a man, I’d be considered a strong leader. But because I’m female, I’m bossy.”

“We’re not talking about bossy—although you are. We’re talking about the fact that you’ve got about the sexiest mouth I’ve ever seen on a woman.”

“My mouth is sexy?”

“Uh-huh.”

She swallowed. Stared at him. “Now I know you’re lying.”

“I only lie about things that aren’t important. Do I have to remind you of what you were doing with that mouth around eight o’clock this morning?”

She didn’t see how he could still make her blush, but it happened. “Yes, well, thank you.”

He laughed and drew her close. “Thank you.”

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