by Cindy Dees
No, she was not going to chicken out. The dress was exquisite and she looked smashing in it, if she did say so herself. She hadn’t been dressed particularly sexy the night James Ward attacked her, so it wasn’t like dressing like this was going to put her in particular danger of a repeat assault.
Ropes of crystal tied across her upper back to hold the dress on her shoulders, their ends falling in a sexy shimmer down her bare back. The skirt had a slit that rose nearly to her right hip. It was simple, stunning and by far the sexiest thing she’d ever worn. Carefully, she took her hair down and sprayed its lush waves as they fell over her shoulders. The effect was retro, harkening back to 1940s movie stars. In keeping with that theme, she applied bright red lipstick that made her fair skin look like velvet cream.
The doorbell rang promptly at seven-thirty, and she quickly slipped on crystal-encrusted mules that added several inches to her height. She threw on a silk wrap, grabbed her clutch and opened the door. Gabe’s fist froze in midair as he reached for the door to knock.
His gaze slid down the smooth satin, taking in every curve and every inch of leg peeking through the high slit. His voice deep and a little rougher than usual, he commented, “I approve.”
“You’re looking pretty sharp yourself, Mr. Dawson.” He wore a tuxedo like he’d been born to it. Although she supposed it wasn’t the wealth a man was born to but the confidence within him that made a tuxedo work.
He held out his forearm to her and she took it shyly. He led her down the front walk to his Escalade, and helped her into the passenger’s seat. Her slit gaped open, and her entire right leg was revealed before she snatched at the copper satin.
But his hand got to the edge of the skirt first, and he gently draped the sleek fabric across her leg, his fingertips trailing fleetingly down the length of her inner thigh. She looked up at him, shocked and thrilled at the intimacy of his touch, but then the door slammed shut and he was gone.
His door opened and he slid into the seat. They were silent for the short ride to the college campus and its grand ballroom where the dinner, dance and charity auction were to be held.
Valets parked vehicles out front, and she and Gabe blended into the trickle of people moving into the venue. She took a deep breath and let it out carefully.
“Nervous?” he asked her, sounding surprised. “Haven’t you done a thousand of these things?”
“Yes, but always as John Merris’s daughter. Never as myself.”
“Well, then. Here’s to the coming out of Willa Merris. And in case I don’t get a chance to say so later, it’s an honor to escort a woman as stunning as you.”
“I could say the same for you, Gabe. You cut quite a dashing figure in that tux. Thank you for doing this for me. I know how you hate these things. Any number of your, umm, former companions, have mentioned that they can never get you to go out to big social functions.”
He laughed heartily. “Former companions, huh? You mean the ring-hunting sharks trying to rope me into marriage, or at least hoping to be seen by every other ring-hunting shark in town as having landed the elusive Gabe Dawson fish?”
“Exactly.” She laughed. “Do you need help fending them off? I could always put out the word that you’ve decided to become gay and swear off women for good.”
He grinned. “In the first place, that wouldn’t slow them down because it’s my money they’re after and not me. And in the second place, no one on earth would believe I’m gay as long as I’m with a woman as sexy as you.”
Her jaw sagged.
“What?” Gabe responded in quick alarm, pausing at the top of the long row of steps leading down into the ballroom. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable after—”
She turned to face him and pressed her fingers against his lips. “Don’t apologize. No one’s ever called me sexy before. That’s all.”
“Are you kidding?” he burst out.
“I don’t exactly run around in slinky gowns with
X-rated underwear and my hair down and wearing come-hither makeup that often.”
“X-rated—” he broke off sharply, and his arm immediately went around her waist protectively. He happened to slip his hand under her wrap as he did so, and his warm palm slid across her bare skin. A strange look crossed his face. “I think I’d better see the back of your dress before I let you take that shawl thing off.”
On cue, a bellboy stepped forward and reached for her shoulders to remove the wrap. Gabe glared the kid off, though, and stepped behind her to lift away the garment himself.
“Sweet baby Jesus,” he breathed.
She looked over her shoulder in quick alarm. “Is something wrong with my dress?”
“I’m only going to have to snarl off every man in the room tonight. Wouldn’t be surprised if I end up having to fight a damned duel over you,” he grumbled.
A slow smile spread across her face. “You like it?”
“Merciful God, woman. I’ve never seen anything like it. I can’t take my eyes off you.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, more grateful than she could express at his gratifying reaction. It was just the confidence boost she needed to face the lion’s den of Vengeance society.
They started down the steps once more, Gabe’s arm firmly wrapped around her waist. “Good thing I box a couple of times a week,” he muttered in her ear. “I have a feeling I may need a solid right hook before the night is out.”
She leaned in close to murmur back, “Why’s that?”
“Because every damn man in the place is staring at you like they’d like to eat you up.”
She glanced up at the crowd closing in around them. Good grief, he was right. She was so used to being invisible, to trailing along in her father’s wake and picking up the spare bits of attention thrown her way as a matter of courtesy, that this concentrated attention by everyone was badly intimidating.
She might have shrunk back from it or even turned around and left were it not for Gabe’s arm anchoring her at his side and lending her strength.
Jacquelyn Carver, chairwoman of the charity fund-raiser committee closed in on her and Gabe like a guided missile. “Why, Gabe Dawson. To what do we owe this pleasant surprise?”
Willa’s teeth ached to grind together at the syrupy purr the woman aimed in Gabe’s direction.
He answered drily, “I’m merely attending as Senator Merris’s escort.”
“Senator—” Jacquelyn looked over Willa’s shoulder as if searching for John Merris. “Oh. Of course. Why, yes. Willa, congratulations on your appointment. It must have come as quite a shock.”
“Why do you say that?” Gabe asked immediately and a little aggressively.
“Well, everyone thought Larry Shore would be named...” Apparently, it dawned on Jacquelyn a little late that Willa might take offense at not having been on the short list to replace her father.
Willa took pity as the woman’s face turned red. After all, she was on Gabe Dawson’s arm tonight; she could afford to be generous. “I was more surprised than anyone when the governor called me, Jackie. But it wasn’t like I could say no to my father’s last request.”
“Will you go to Washington?” the woman asked hopefully.
“The police have asked me not to leave town.” As Willa watched avid curiosity about the charges she’d made against James Ward cross Jackie’s face, Willa added drily, “It’s in case I can help with my father’s murder investigation and the kidnapping of Gabe’s ex-wife.”
Jackie turned to Gabe, placing a solicitous hand on his arm. “You poor man. You must be so distraught over that. Such an impressive and brilliant woman, your wife.”
“Ex-wife,” Gabe retorted.
“Why, yes. Of course,” Jackie gushed.
Willa’s gaze narrowed. So that was how it was going to be, huh? The good ladies of Vengeance were going to snipe at Gabe for being out in public while his ex-wife was missing, and they were going to come after her for trying to replace Melinda Dawson. She supposed tha
t was better than turning on her for charging James Ward with rape.
But then another woman strolled up, this time landing a snide barb about Willa certainly having come out of mourning in a big way. As that particular cat strolled away, Willa said to Gabe, “Did they expect me to show up in widow’s weeds like it’s the nineteenth century?”
Gabe answered smoothly, “They’re jealous. Take it for the compliment it is.”
She smiled warmly at him. “Good point.”
“We can always leave if you’d rather not face the cats and their claws.”
“I’m no coward,” she retorted. “And I’ve got to face them sometime. I may as well get it out of the way tonight, when I’ve got this beautiful dress and a knight in shining armor to defend my honor.”
“That’s the spirit. I rather like the sound of Sir Gabriel.”
“Gabriel? That’s your real name?”
“Gabriel Michael.”
“Your parents went for the whole archangel theme, huh?”
“Fat lot of good it did them to name me after angels,” he retorted. “I’m anything but.”
The idea of him being a dark and dangerous bad boy turned her on more than she could believe. As far as she knew, she didn’t react in any overt way to the thought, but Gabe leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Hold that thought for later, baby.”
Her toes curled into tight little buds of lust in her shoes. “Can we leave now?” she asked hopefully.
He laughed quietly. “But the upstanding citizens of this fine town aren’t done skewering the two of us yet. You wouldn’t want to deprive them of their righteous pleasure, would you?”
Chapter 8
Dinner was served, and Willa spent the next hour dealing with plates and food and drinks and not spilling anything on her gorgeous gown or otherwise making an idiot of herself. But then the tables were cleared and, while the auction was set up onstage, the guests were free to mingle again.
Apparently, the wine with dinner had kicked in or some unspoken signal she wasn’t aware of passed between the members of the ladies’ auxiliary as everyone left the tables. Or maybe it was Gabe excusing himself for a moment to visit the restroom. But the second Willa was alone, the barracudas closed in on her.
“You’ve got some nerve showing your face around here after what you did to James Ward.”
“Just because you got your father’s job doesn’t give you the right to destroy a sweet, innocent man like James who never did anything to you.”
“You lying, pathetic bitch. How dare you accuse James Ward of laying a finger on you! And then you show up with a sleazeball like Gabe Dawson?”
“Who’d have guessed you were such a slut? Your father must be rolling over in his grave.”
They came at her so fast and from so many directions she had no hope at all of addressing any of their vicious attacks. And frankly, she had no idea what to say to any of them. Never in her life had anyone spoken to her like this. She was absolutely speechless over the hatred and jealousy in their voices. Had they always hated her this much? Had it only been her father’s power that held them at bay? Or was all this venom directed specifically at her?
And then a voice she recognized all too well separated itself from the others.
“What are you doing here? And dressed like that. I’m appalled, Willa Merris. Not to mention your choice of escorts. Gabe Dawson? Are you intentionally trying to rub your family’s nose in the slime that boy crawled out of?”
Willa whipped around to face that voice. “Mother? I didn’t know you were planning to come to this event. You should have told me.”
“And when did I have a chance? You’ve been too busy running around accusing nice boys of horrible crimes and grabbing at your father’s wealth and position. If you think you’re going to rob me blind, you’ve another think coming, young lady. I’ll fight you. I’ll get my own lawyers, and I’ll see to it you don’t get a penny of your father’s estate.”
Willa’s jaw dropped in complete shock. What was this? She didn’t want her father’s money...what little of it there was, if Gabe was telling the truth about the Vacarro wells. “I don’t want Father’s money, and I certainly don’t want to steal anything from you.”
Her mother ignored her and spewed, “You’ve disgraced our family. Splashing private business all over the news with your crazy accusations. Then trying to take over Merris Oil, and stealing your father’s senate seat. And look at you. You look like a cheap whore.”
Her mother’s eyes were overbright, maybe even a bit maniacal, as she pointed an accusing finger at Willa. And Minnie’s voice had risen enough that a number of people beyond the cluster of attacking women had turned to listen.
Willa spoke in an urgent undertone. “Mother, this isn’t the place to have this conversation.”
“Where else are we going to have it?” Minnie screeched. “You’re too busy shacking up with the man who tried to ruin your father. You traitorous little slut—”
A sharp voice cut across Minnie’s tirade. “That will be enough.” Gabe’s arm went around Willa’s shoulders, and he pulled her tight against his side.
“Who are you to—” Jackie Carver started.
Gabe glared around the circle of women furiously enough to quiet them all. “Minnie, you know better than to mix alcohol and your medications. You’re going to regret everything you said in the morning, but at least you’ve got an excuse for your atrocious behavior. As for the rest of you, what’s your excuse for acting like white-trash gossips?”
Shocked silence was his only answer.
He spoke grimly. “Senator Merris didn’t ask for her father to be murdered, nor did she ask to be brutally attacked. I’ve seen the evidence, and there’s no question she’s telling the truth about Ward. I also happened to be present when the governor called her to inform her of her father’s request to appoint Willa to his senate seat in the event of his death. That was entirely John Merris’s doing, not Willa’s. The lot of you should be ashamed of yourselves for acting like a pack of gutter jackals.”
And with that scornful observation, he hustled Willa past the staring women and toward the exit. By the time they reached the long staircase, she’d started to shiver, and by the time they reached the top of the stairs, she was shaking uncontrollably. Her own mother? What poison had people been spouting in Minnie’s ear to make her turn on her daughter like that?
“Just a little farther, baby,” he murmured. “Be strong for me.”
A valet held out her wrap, and Gabe grabbed it with his free hand without ever breaking stride as he hurried her to the door.
As they stepped outside, a shockingly bright light illuminated, making Willa lurch against Gabe’s side. A female voice called from the darkness beyond the spotlight, “There she is! Senator Merris, what do you have to say about the health hazards of oil fracking?”
Gabe swore under his breath beside her, then muttered to her, “That’s Paula Craddock. Don’t answer.”
“Thanks. I had that one figured out,” Willa muttered back. Why were an investigative reporter and a camera crew waiting outside this non-political fund-raiser?
As if the reporter’s call had been a cue, a crowd of people rushed forward to line the sidewalk Willa and Gabe had to traverse to reach the curb and his vehicle. There were maybe thirty people, but they all wielded cardboard signs and commenced chanting loudly, “Stop the freaking fracking!”
The signs were lurid, claiming that fracking killed kids, that oil companies were satanic and that the government had been bought off by frackers. At the end of the gauntlet of protesters waited Paula Craddock, microphone in hand.
“Looks like you’re going to have to make a statement,” Gabe mumbled. “Want me to handle this?”
“Are they here to yell at you because you own an oil company or to yell at me because I’m a politician?” she responded.
“Since no one knew I was coming to this shindig, and I wasn’t on the guest list, I’m guessing they came
for the good senator. But I can tell Paula to go suck an egg if you’d like.”
“That’s okay.” She threw him a wry look as they ducked under the waving signs. “I lived in the shadow of my father for a long time. I learned a thing or two about handling hostile reporters and angry mobs.”
“Are you saying your old man had a talent for attracting both?” Gabe retorted drily.
She snorted in amusement. “Perchance.”
“Senator Merris, your father used his position to protect oil companies from taking any responsibility for the environmental and health carnage of fracking in Texas. Do you plan to do the same?”
“Congress is not in session at the moment, and no major legislation will come up for a vote regarding fracking between now and next January, so I’m not going to have an opportunity to take any stand on the matter. But thank you for asking. I’m so glad you came to cover the Annual Scholarship Ball and Auction. Let me take you inside and introduce you to the event chairwoman. Her name is Jacquelyn Carver. She’ll be thrilled to meet you and tell you all about the event.”
Willa took the reporter by the arm and gestured for the cameraman to come along. She kept up a steady stream of commentary about the Ladies’ Auxiliary and their charity work, and gave the reporter no chance to get a word in edgewise. It was a tactic straight out of her father’s playbook. Before Ms. Craddock knew what was happening, Willa had handed her off to Jackie Carver, who would no doubt talk the reporter’s ear off.
Willa turned away from the camera and flummoxed journalist in relief. And there was Gabe, only a few feet away, waiting watchfully.
“Shall we be on our way again?” he asked.
“Let’s.”
This time when they went back outside, the picketers weren’t as loud or aggressive with their sign waving. Willa stopped in front of a woman whose poster showed a very sick little girl lying in what looked like a hospital bed.