by Tawny Weber
Cassiopeia’s irritation faded as she glanced at her watch before gathering the cards together and dumping them, cloth and all, into her pocket. “They aren’t supposed to bring the cake out for an hour yet. What is that girl thinking?”
She gave Danita an apologetic look, “I’m sorry, darling. We’ll finish this later, okay?”
Danita offered a weak smile. It was like a steamroller apologizing for not completely smooshing you.
“You looked like you needed to be rescued,” Maya said with a laugh after the redhead had swept out of the room. “Don’t let Cassiopeia freak you out. Whatever she sees, she keeps it to herself. She’s better at that confidentiality thing than most doctors.”
“She’s…” Scary. Freakishly accurate. Intimidating. “She’s fun.”
“She’s going crazy with the wedding stuff, actually,” Maya confessed. “Dad insisted on paying for the entire wedding, so she’s trying to keep the balance by throwing a couple of weeks’ worth of parties and celebrations.”
Danita looked back at the table where her future had just terrified her and grimaced. “Couldn’t he have let her bake a cake instead?”
Maya laughed, but before she could say anything, a forbidding looking woman called to her.
“Damn.” Maya’s curse was more a breath than a word. Her smile didn’t change, but her body stiffened as the older lady approached. “Danita, have you met my aunt? Cynthia Parker, also known as Her Honor, the Mayor. Aunt Cynthia, this is Danita.”
“Yes, yes, we’ve met. You’re a registered voter, as I recall?” Cynthia said with a toothy smile. “Tell me, what issues are important to you in the election next fall? Are you a proponent of gun control? How do you feel we’re doing, as a country, with the war on drugs?”
Huh? Danita’s eyes cut to Maya, who had a look of resigned amusement on her face. The younger woman gave a shrug and rolled her eyes as if to say ignore her.
“Mrs. Parker, I’m sorry but I’m not sure I’ll still be living in the state next fall.” Or that she wanted to dish politics at a bridal shower.
The mayor’s brown eyes narrowed, disappointment clear on her face. Then she visibly regrouped and gave a friendly nod. “I understand. You have doubts about your future with my nephew. With good reason, of course. He’s the epitome of his father. Oh, the charm is there, but the problems that go along with it are plentiful. If you manage to stay together through fall, you and I will have a chat about your background.”
With that and a pat on Danita’s shoulder, the mayor strode away.
Relieved to see her go, and baffled by the bitterness in her tone when she’d mentioned Gabriel, Danita frowned.
“I’m confused,” Danita confessed to Maya. “She sounded like she had a problem with Gabriel. And that part about discussing my background. Was that a joke?”
“More like a test. Aunt Cynthia is fanatical about the family name. She figures Dad’s done enough to damage it. Then you factor in Caleb and Gabriel both being wild troublemakers as teens and she’s spent years trying to overcome the blight our side of the family has cast on her political aspirations.”
Must be rough living down reputations like the Blacks’. Danita wondered if the good mayor had a clue just how bad those reputations really were.
She spent the next few hours trying to find out. She talked to guests. To friends of the family and townspeople alike. Everyone had good things to say about the Black family, and the bad they shared was always tempered by indulgent laughter.
By three o’clock the bridal shower was over and Danita’s head was so full she was ready to explode from information overload. It was like attending a briefing session with a group of magpies all hopped up on champagne, chocolate and pre-wedding sex talk.
She left with her arms filled with a basket of bath product she’d won playing the lingerie game, a box with leftover cake she’d been instructed to share with Gabriel and one of the table bouquets of lilies she’d been told to take, since she was almost family.
Almost family. What a concept. One that made Danita feel all warm and fuzzy inside. She’d had such a good time getting to know Maya and watching Pandora celebrate her upcoming wedding. She’d grown up dirt-poor, with very few friends. She’d worked three jobs to put herself through college, which left little time for socializing. Then she’d thrown herself wholeheartedly into her job, with little time for making friends. Today, that’d changed.
Except, it hadn’t. Pandora, Maya, even Cassiopeia, they weren’t real friends. This relationship was a fake. A cover. A con Gabriel was pulling on his family.
Guilt, something she’d rarely felt, overwhelmed her. It was just as well this was all fake. She’d just spent the afternoon lying to people she was wishing were friends.
So why did she suddenly wish it were real?
The friendship. The relationship. Everything between her and Gabriel.
And how was she going to convince her heart to believe it wasn’t?
8
SMILING, GABRIEL LEANED back in his chair and arched a brow at the other five men at the table. None of them were looking too happy. Then again, in the last three hours playing poker, he’d won a few grand off them. He’d figured with Danita gone this afternoon, it was the perfect time to cement his spot in the good-ole-boys’ club. He’d found Ham, scared up a poker game and proceeded to do what he did best. Play the game.
So far, in addition to a few grand, he’d pulled in a few enticing hints about the cartel that he figured Danita would appreciate. Nothing, though, that shed any light on who was behind it all. He figured he had another half hour, tops, before Danita returned and put an end to his little fishing expedition.
So the stakes were high. The energy was tight. His hand was crap. So it all came down to the bluff.
Just the way he liked it.
“Your bet,” he reminded Ham.
The innkeeper grimaced, shifting his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. “You used to be more fun to play with, boy.”
“I used to be seventeen,” Gabriel returned with a laugh. “Who’s good at that age?”
He had been. But he’d also been taught young the art of the hustle.
“Kid, you’re killing me,” Ham groaned, eyeing his cards before peering at Gabriel to try and gauge his hand.
“Tell ya what,” Gabriel said, scooping up a tortilla chip full of guacamole and munching with a smile. “I’ll give you a pass on ponying up the call money. In exchange, I win this hand, you talk me up to the boss.”
“You’re a sad, sad case,” Mikels, the big blond goon said with a shake of his head.
“When’s the head honcho gonna decide which of us is best to play leader of this band of merry criminals?” Gabriel asked, his tone as casual as a warm summer day despite having asked the same question four times already. “Doesn’t he need to meet us, get a gauge on our talent in person?”
“The boss has met everyone already,” Ham said, his attention on his cards. “Word will come down in due time.”
“Hey now,” Gabriel protested. “How’d I miss the meet and greet?”
“Quit bitchin’. The best interviews are the ones you don’t realize you’re having.”
Shit. Gabriel forced himself to keep smiling like this new info wasn’t huge. He’d already met the boss? When? Where? Before he’d come to Black Oak? Or after?
While his brain scrambled to list names of everyone he’d talked to since coming to town, his heart struggled against the knowledge that one of the people he’d talked to was his own father.
His gaze scanned the table, noting that a few of the players were as skilled as he at keeping their expression bland. A frown here, a furrowed brow there. Yeah, none of them had been aware that they’d already met the boss face-to-face, either.
“Don’t think the boss is gonna care much about your pretty face and fast-talking, either,” Ham said, still glaring at his cards. “A gig like this takes a lot of brains, strong connections and a serious i
nflux of cash. I’m not much interested in your smile, Black. You want to play, you’re gonna have to come up with something better.”
I’m? So focused on debating his hand, Ham probably didn’t realize what he’d just let slip. Gabriel did, though. Was Ham the leader of this little game? Nah. Why hide it if he was? Still, Gabriel studied the other man with narrowed eyes. Just how good was the older man at bluffing?
“He’s right. You got nothing to bring to the boss,” Adams said with a laugh. “We all bring a level of expertise that the boss values. Connections, merchandise. What you got? Instructions on how to look pretty? Advice on talking big?”
While the others snickered and guffawed, Gabriel’s smile turned predatory. That, right there, was the key opening he’d been looking for. They were right. He would bring charm, smarts and talent to the game. But it was hard to put a value on those gifts. So he needed something more tangible.
Cash. It was damned hard to argue with a cold, hard currency. If charm wouldn’t get him that top spot—and the information he needed from it—he’d go another route. He’d buy his way in.
Done with what he’d come to do, he started calculating his way out of the game.
Before he could decide whether it would be more expedient to clean them all out or to throw this hand and make Ham a happy winner, there was a clatter, the tap-a-tapping of high heels on hardwood.
“Gabriel?”
Six heads turned toward the door. Four faces glowered. Ham looked like he wanted to declare her an angel of mercy. Gabriel just grinned.
“Hey, Blondie. I missed you.”
“I see that,” she said with a tiny pout and a flutter of those thick lashes. “And here I brought you back all kinds of goodies, thinking we’d have a late nap. But you’re too busy playing with the boys. I guess I’ll just have to take care of my afternoon cravings by myself.”
Her lip jutted out just a little more, the overhead light making the glossy red pout glisten.
“They had this cake at the party, too. It’s supposed to be, what do you call it? A pick-me-up? Some sort of sexual aphrodisiac, they said. I brought you back a piece. It’s supposed to be really, really good. The cake, that is.”
Gabriel had to hand it to her. Danita was pretty damned amazing with it came to acting like the ditzy tramp. A man could look at her right now, with her lashes fluttering over those sexy blue eyes and her finger trailing suggestively up her thigh and his brain had no choice but to turn to sex.
Her sigh was a work of art, the way it made those full breasts swell and her hair flutter lightly around her face. Gabriel would give her credit if he wasn’t sure that little act had gotten every other guy at the table just as hard as it had him.
Jealousy was a new feeling.
And as much as he was all for experiencing new things, he couldn’t say he liked it. Struggling to keep the threatening scowl from ruining his progress, Gabriel flicked his cards against the table and said, “Ham? You in or out?”
“Out,” Ham said, his eyes still sliming Danita like the dirty old man he was.
“Then, gentlemen, I’m calling it a game,” he said, tossing his cards toward the center of the table and scooping the pile of cash toward him. “This has been a pleasure. We’ll have to play again. Higher stakes next time.”
“Maybe you pony up with the girl,” Yarnell smirked.
Anger blurred his vision. His hand was in a fist and he was halfway out of his chair before he realized it.
He’d never seen Danita move so fast. Not even when she was trying to scurry out of his bed. Before he could act on the violent fury pounding through him, she’d crossed the room and wrapped her arm around his waist.
Leaning into him, her breasts were warm and soft against his arm. Deciding he wanted to feel them more than he wanted to plow his fist into Yarnell’s face, at least for now, he shifted to curl his own arm around Danita’s shoulder.
“Sweetie pie,” she breathed in a husky tone. “You promised this was going to be a fun vacation. Not all business. I’m hungry. Can we go, babe? I’ve got something special for you to…eat.”
The last word was said in a purr as Danita traced her finger over his bottom lip. She gave the men around the table a big, airy smile. Then, making it clear she was a girl who had her priorities straight, she scooped up the pile of cash and, with it in one hand and Gabriel’s wrist in the other, sauntered out of the room.
“Gentlemen,” Gabriel said, tossing a smile over his shoulder. “I’ll be busy this afternoon.”
What the hell? His body still humming with never-before-felt jealousy, Gabriel tried to get a handle on himself. He enjoyed the show Danita’s hips put on all the way up the stairs, but neither of them said a word until she’d closed the hotel room door behind them. After a quick glance at her monitoring wand on the bureau, she tossed the cash on the dresser, slapped her fists on her hips and gave Gabriel a glare.
“What the hell are you doing? I’m off gathering what little information I can at your sister’s happy-ever-after party and end up with a horrible case of the guilts because your family was all so welcoming and sweet to me. I return to find you playing cards with the criminal elements, without me. We’re here to gather intelligence. Not to play—or threaten—the criminals.”
Gabriel leaned back against the dresser, crossing his boot-shod feet at the ankle and tucking his thumbs into his pockets. “Does this mean we’re not eating cake, Blondie? Or anything tastier?”
He grinned, appreciating how good frustration looked on her as she heaved a sigh and threw her arms in the air. Was it any wonder he wanted to keep her for himself? She was simply gorgeous. The pretty blue fabric of her dress shifted, cupping her breasts before sliding down again. Gabriel’s hands itched to mimic the move.
“So?” she said after sucking in another deep breath as if the air was filled with control.
“So what?”
“So you were up to something. What was the point of that game? Is there a break in the case?”
Her eyes were on his face as if she had a lie detector built into her mascara or something.
He debated for all of two seconds the option of letting her in on his little epiphany about needing to get his hands on a whole lot of cash to buy his way into the top slot of the cartel. They were here to gather information, he could hear her say. Not to make any moves.
Besides, Gabriel worked alone. And as pleasurable as this little interlude might be, he wasn’t comfortable at the idea of baring his thoughts, or plans, before he knew they’d net gold.
So he offered her a shrug and his most charming smile. “I was killing time, Blondie. I figured it’d be a smart idea to spend a little time with the criminal elements. See if I could find any chinks in their armor. You know, sleuth for clues.”
Still giving him that laser stare, she searched his face. Then she tilted her head to one side and asked, “And? Did you discover anything worthwhile?”
A glib denial was on his lips. The intention to blow her off was fully formed in his mind.
But what came out of his mouth was “Maybe.”
What the hell?
Gabriel grimaced, mentally cursing. What was it about her that made it impossible for him to lie to her face?
“I didn’t get a break, and didn’t find out who is calling the shots. But I did find out that each of these players were recruited after a year or so of pseudo-interviews. Kendall, the sheriff Caleb arrested for selling drugs a couple of months ago, was the liaison. Apparently he accessed the state database, pulled records for a number of underlings and traced them to their bosses. One of the goons, Mikels, figures each man was brought in as a specialist. No two of them have the same criminal milieu, if you will.”
Danita crossed from the door and, a pretty frown furrowing her brow, dropped into the chair next to the window. Tapping her fingers on the arm of the chair, she sighed.
“That’s confirmation of the intel Hunter gave us, but nothing new. Did you get anything else
?”
“Apparently there are a few disgruntled rejects out there,” he told her. “The goon squad was laughing about it, but Ham looked a little freaked. I guess one unhappy element stopped by the manor a few months back and tried to convince him to share the deets on who made the grave error in not hiring him instead of some of the other goons. When Ham claimed he had no clue, the guy shot up his car.”
Danita sat up straighter. “Did he report it to the sheriff?”
“He said he didn’t. He joked that the boss gave him a new ride as reward for loyally keeping his trap shut.” Gabriel hesitated, then decided to come clean with Danita about his suspicions. Maybe doing so would mitigate a little of the guilt over not telling her the rest of his plans. “He let something slip, though. At one point, he referred to the boss as I. Not he, I.”
“Do you think he’s created a fake boss to keep the heat off himself?” All traces of the breathy bimbo from earlier were gone as Danita leaned forward, intelligence and calculation clear on her face. “Is he that smart? Does he have the connections? And more importantly, does he hold a grudge against your father that would lead to his trying to point his finger that way? You know him from your childhood, right? Tell me everything you remember.”
Gabriel thought about it. He wasn’t giving up his plan to bust the boss. But it wouldn’t hurt to use FBI resources to focus on Ham while Gabriel himself made a couple of calls and nailed down the details of his bigger scam.
“There’s no bad blood between him and my dad, but I don’t think there’s much good, either. Ham used to complain that Dad thought he was special because his ancestors founded the town. Like mine, Ham’s family dates back to the origins of Black Oak. The Bollingers built the manor seventy-or-so years ago, handing down to the oldest son each generation. It used to be top-notch. A luxury destination for tourists, a fancy dinner out for locals. Since Ham’s wife ditched him about fifteen years ago, he—and the manor—have been going steadily downhill. Drinking, gambling, a few bad investments. Rumor is the only reason he’s held on to the manor is that it’s in a trust and he can’t touch it.”