Show & Tell. Rhonda NelsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
about their cover story when she said, “Sure, go ahead and fill me in.”
He swallowed and strove for a nonchalant tone. “We’re registered as Mr. and Mrs. Knox Weston. Your first name is Barbie. We’ve been having a little—”
“Barbie?”
Knox winced at her shrill exclamation. “That’s right.”
With a withering smirk, she crossed her arms over her chest and turned to face him. “And why is my first name Barbie?”
Knox cast about his paralyzed mind for some sort of plausible lie, but couldn’t come up with anything halfway believable and settled for the truth. “Because I was pissed and knew you would hate it.” He threw her a sidelong glance and was pleased that he’d been able to—it meant that he still had his eyes and she hadn’t scratched them out yet. “It was a petty thrill. I regret it now, of course,” he quickly imparted at her venomous look. “But what’s done is done and I can’t very well tell them that I’ve made a mistake, that I didn’t know my own wife’s name.” He forced a chuckle. “That would look pretty odd.”
Looking thoroughly put out, Savannah studied him until Knox was hard-pressed not to squirm. “A petty thrill, eh?” She humphed. “Is there anything else—besides my name—that you might have falsely reported about me? Anything else I should know about?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “Er—”
“Knox…” Savannah said threateningly.
Knox considered taking the next exit. If she went ballistic and attacked him, he didn’t want any innocent bystanders to be hurt. “Well, just for the sake of our cover, you understand, they, uh…might think that you’re frigid and unable to reach climax.”
Knox heard her outraged gasp and tensed, readied himself for a blow.
“Well, that can be easily explained,” she said frostily, “when I tell them that you’re a semi-impotent premature ejaculator.”
Knox quailed and resisted the natural urge to adjust himself, to assure himself that everything was in working order. “Well, I—I can hardly see where that will b-be necessary,” he croaked. “One of us had to have a problem or we wouldn’t have needed the workshop in the first place.” A good, rational argument, Knox thought, congratulating himself.
She laughed. “Oh, I see. And I just had to be the one with the problem? Why couldn’t you have been the one with the problem?”
“Because I—”
She chuckled. “Because you’re such a stud that the idea of your equipment not passing muster—even fictitiously—was too much for your poor primitive male mind to comprehend. How pathetically juvenile.” She smiled. “Do continue. We’ll be there soon and I want to make sure that I’m completely in character.”
Knox frowned at the words “pathetically juvenile,” but under the circumstances, he let it pass. He cleared his throat and did his best to maintain his train of thought. “We’ve been married for two years and have never been completely satisfied with our, er, sex life. We’re looking for something more and long for a closer relationship with one another. Our marriage is on the rocks as a result of our failure to communicate in the bedroom.”
She snorted. “Because I’m frigid.”
“Er…right.”
“And you’re impotent.”
“Ri—Wrong!” Sheesh. A bead of sweat broke out on his upper lip. “That’s, uh, not what our profile says.”
“Because you filled it out. Look, Knox, if you think for one minute that I’m taking the total blame for our sorry sex life and our failing marriage during this farce, you’d better think again. You wanted this story, so you’d better damn well be ready to play your part. If I’m frigid, then, by God, you’re going to be impotent.”
Knox felt his balls shrivel up with dread. He set his jaw so hard he feared it would crack. She had to be the most competitive, argumentative female he’d ever encountered. The bigger picture, he reminded himself. Think of the bigger picture. “If you insist,” he said tightly.
“I do.”
“Fine.” He blew out a breath. “There are still a few more things we need to go over. As for our occupations, I’m a veterinarian and you’re my assistant.”
She quirked a brow. “That’s a bit of a stretch.”
Smiling, Knox shrugged. “I got carried away.”
Savannah’s lips curled into a genuine smile, not the cynical smirk she usually wore, and the difference between the two was simply breathtaking. It was a sweet grin, devoid of any sentiment but real humor. To Knox’s disquiet, he felt a buzz of heat hum along his spine.
“Be that as it may, I hope we’re not called upon to handle a pet emergency,” she said wryly. “I don’t know the first thing about animals.”
“What? No Spot or Fluffy in your past?”
A shadow passed over her face. “No, I’m afraid not.”
Knox waited a beat to see if she would elaborate, and when she didn’t, he filed that information away for future consideration and moved to fill the sudden silence. “Look in the front pocket of my laptop case, would you?”
Savannah turned and hefted the case from the back floorboard. She unzipped the front pouch. “What am I looking for? Your Viagra?”
“No.” He smiled. “Just something to authenticate our marriage. Our rings are in there.”
A line emerged between her brows and she paused to look at him. “Rings?”
Knox reached over, pilfered through the pocket and withdrew a couple of small velvet boxes. “Yeah, rings. Married people wear them. Fourth finger, left hand, closest to the heart.”
“Ooh, I’m impressed. How does an impotent bachelor like you know all that sentimental swill?”
“I’m not impotent,” Knox growled. “And I know because, having been best man at three different weddings in the past year, it’s my business to know.”
Savannah nodded. “Hmm.”
“Hmm, what?” Knox asked suspiciously, casting her a sidelong glance.
She lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug. “I’m surprised, that’s all.”
“Surprised that I’ve been a best man?”
“No, surprised that you had three male friends. I’ve never seen you with anyone but the opposite sex.”
Knox shivered dramatically. “Oh, that’s cold.”
“Well, what do you expect? Us frigid unable-to-climax types are like that.”
Smothering a smile, he tossed the smallest box to her. “Just put on your ring, Barbie.”
Savannah lifted the lid and calmly withdrew the plain gold band. Anxiety knotted his gut. Though it had been completely unreasonable, Knox had found himself poring over tray after tray, trying to find the perfect band for her finger. He’d finally gotten disgusted with himself—they weren’t really getting married, for Pete’s sake—and had selected the simple unadorned band. Savannah didn’t seem the type for flash and sparkle.
She seemed curiously reluctant to put it on, but finally slipped the ring over her knuckle and fitted it into place. She turned her hand this way and that. “It’s lovely. And it fits perfectly. Good job, Knox. It had never occurred to me that we’d need rings. Where did you get these?”
With an inaudible sigh, Knox opened his own box, snagged his equally simple band and easily pushed it into place. “My jeweler, of course.”
She winced. “Would have been cheaper to have gone to the pawnshop.”