dinner sent up andâno, of course thereâs nobody here with me. Why would you think that?â
Torrano shouted some more.
âNo,â Dixie said. âIâm quite alone at the moment, Joey. Now, you go to sleep and think about whether you want to sign a contract to support the show, okay? Yes, good night. Good night, Joey!â
She tossed the receiver to Flynn and whooped. âWonderful! Heâs suspicious already!â
âSuspicious about what?â
âYou!â Dixie exuberantly splashed water into the air. âHe had one of his spies in the hotel tonight. The guy must have spotted you and reported to Joey.â Delighted, she crowed, âThey think Iâve got a man up here!â
âYou do,â Flynn observed.
Five
âW ell, weâll let Joey get his trousers in a twist and see what happens.â Dixie settled back into the bubbles, pleased with the way her plan was going.
Flynn looked less than pleased. âYouâre playing a dangerous game, Miss Davis.â
âI donât play games.â
âI think,â he argued very carefully, âyou play games all the time.â
âI do not!â
âFirst the Texas Tornado act, andââ
âThat may be an act,â Dixie quickly conceded, âbut it gets things accomplished.â
âIsnât that a game?â
âItâs business.â
âShow business.â Flynn nodded. âYou manipulate peopleâfirst to entertain, then to make them give what you want.â
âAre we talking about Joey now?â Dixie demanded. âDonât feel sorry for him. Joey got what he wanted out of our relationship, if thatâs what you mean.â
âBut you never slept with him.â
âThatâs not what he wanted!â Dixie sat up defensively. âOh, he thought I was sexy and all, but he wanted me so Iâd make him look good!â
âItâs pretty tough to make a lifetime criminal look good,â Flynn snapped. âBut you managed to do it.â
âOnly for the benefit of the newspapers,â Dixie replied. She lifted her toes out of the bathwater to check her pedicure. âAnyway, Joeyâs not so bad.â
âYou donât think so?â Flynnâs dark eyes were suddenly hard, and he seemed unaware of her dripping leg as she extended it in a leisurely stretch above the fragrant bubbles.
Dixie slipped her leg out of sight again. âHeâs given a lot of money to the show.â
âIs money the way you measure goodness in people?â
âOf course not!â
âYou seem to be protecting him.â
âMaybe I am in a way. I just thinkâwell, you have to know my friends, the ones who work with me at the theater. Theyâreâthey all have different storiesâdifferent reasons why the show is so important. I want to keep it going a little longer. I owe them that much.â
âYou owe them? Why?â
Dixie decided not to answer that one directly. âLook, I admit Iâm not exactly what I seemââ
âYouâre not the Texas Tornado?â
âYes, in a way. I mean, itâs who I amâwhere I come from.â
âBut I notice you drop the drawl and the lingo when weâre alone.â
Suddenly she didnât like the laughter in his gaze. âOf course I play it up a little! Why, my mama and Granny Butterfield think theyâve died and gone to hog heavenâme on the legitimate Broadway stage and allâbut Iâoh, hell, my real name isnât even Dixie!â
âIt isnât?â
âDaddy called me Dixie from the time I was knee-high to a longhorn steer, but my given name is...â
He noticed her reluctance at once. âYour given name is?â
She sighed. âDiana. Boring, huh?â
He sat forward on the velvet chair. âNot boring. Nice.â
Suddenly Dixie felt awkward. She wasnât used to men
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley