by Katie Knight
“Sir, huh?” He quirked one dark brow at her. “Are you trying to get me all hot and bothered, miss? Because if so, mission accomplished.”
“Yeah?” She flashed a slow grin, savoring the rising desire in his eyes. Even as stressed as she was by everything, he could still make her forget it all with one sexy look. Amazing.
“Oh yeah.” He pulled her close again, his fingers stroking her sides through the silky material of her dress. “Maybe we should just skip this gala altogether and stay home tonight. I’m sure we could find something here to enjoy just as much.”
“Hmm.” She slid her arms around his neck and rose on tiptoe to kiss him fast before moving away. “I wish we could, but I need to be there tonight. I was on the planning committee for this event, and the foundation has been a sponsor for years. This annual gala raises a huge amount for kids with leukemia. It’s one of my passion projects and I love supporting it.”
He sighed and tried to pull her back against him once more. “I thought I was your passion project?”
Lake swatted his hands away and checked her chignon once more before heading for the foyer to grab her cashmere wrap. “You are. In a different way. You can stay home if you want, but I’m going.”
Drake shook his head and grabbed his keys off the side table by the door. “No. If you’re going, I’m going too. After what happened the other night in the parking lot, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
The gala was just as lavish as Drake had expected. It was just the kind of thing his family would have loved. His mother and father had prided themselves on attending all of the biggest and best shindigs this side of the Mississippi, and Devon loved showing off his wealth and privilege in the most ostentatious way possible. Drake was the only odd duck out, preferring quiet get-togethers with friends, where people could actually talk and relax. The gala tonight was not one of those.
Above their heads, the ceiling of the enormous event space was covered with diaphanous clear and white balloons that reflected the blue and green spotlights directed at them, giving the whole room a sort of underwater feel. A sea of white-linen-covered tables flowed out across the ballroom floor, and silverware and crystal sparkled from the tabletops. At the center of each round table were elegant centerpieces of white roses and lilies in tall crystal vases. Near the front of the space was a small stage and a flat screen monitor. In front of that a dancefloor had been set up and a small orchestra played off to the side of the space, old standards and a few new ballads also, to keep things interesting.
It all reeked of money and power and pretension and Drake was bored out of his mind.
The only thing that kept the night interesting was tracking Lake’s movements around the room. From the moment they’d entered the party, she’d gone off to mix and mingle and schmooze. He’d snagged a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and stayed near the sidelines, keeping an eye on her. He hadn’t been kidding earlier. He was still worried about someone trying to take her again, especially after his meeting with Jameson the other day and their decision to dig deeper into the death of his brother. Whoever had run his brother’s car off the road had been desperate, and desperation didn’t just go away. No. The people whose money his brother had been laundering were still out there. In all likelihood, they still wanted their funds—and they could no longer appeal to Devon for them. If they thought that Lake was their best shot, they wouldn’t stop until they had her in their custody, or until Drake got to them first.
Either way, Lake wasn’t going to disappear on him again.
He sipped his champagne, watching her over the rim of his glass as several fundraiser attendees sidled past him. Drake stepped back to allow them to pass, only to bump arms with someone else.
“Excuse me,” he said, glancing over his shoulder at the older, white-haired man behind him.
“No problem,” the older man said, his blue gaze narrowed. “Aren’t you Drake Shepperton?”
Damn. He’d hoped to lie low tonight and observe people to see if anyone was acting suspicious, but that wasn’t to be, apparently. He plastered on his most polite smile and turned to shake hands with the man. This fundraiser was important to Lake, which made it important to him too. He had no idea who the hell this man was, but Drake wasn’t about to do anything to offend him and maybe put the foundation in a negative light. He swallowed hard against the lump of dread in his throat and said, “Yes. Drake Shepperton, at your service. And you are?”
“Baron Bexler,” the man said, his grip more energetic than necessary. Only in Texas would you see a guy in a tux wearing a tie covered with longhorn skulls. Drake downed the rest of his champagne in one gulp. If the older man noticed anything odd, he didn’t show it, just grinned widely as he nearly dislocated Drake’s shoulder with his over-enthusiastic greeting. “Such an honor, sir. Really. Thank you for your service. And I’m so sorry about your brother. Too bad. Devon was quite a guy.”
“Yeah.” Drake set his empty glass aside and took another from the waiter walking by. It was going to be a long evening. He checked to make sure Lake was still talking with the same group of people near the stage, then focused on Bexler again. “So, what business are you in, Mr. Bexler?”
“Baron, please,” the guy said, pointing to his tie. “And beef, if you couldn’t already tell. Got the largest ranch in the county, with almost a million acres and twice as many longhorns. Your brother loved to come out on the weekends and enjoy my facilities. Love to have you come out some time too, Drake. Besides the mansion, we’ve got golf, swimming, tennis. Even a shooting range.”
“Great.” He took another swig of champagne, feeling this conversation slowly draining away his will to live. He saw Lake excuse herself from one group and move on to the next, this time a bit closer to the exit sign along the wall. If he moved fast, he might be able to pull her away and out onto the dancefloor. But then Bexler said something that got his attention.
“Honestly, I was trying to convince your brother to let me buy Shepperton, Inc. Per my financial advisor’s counsel, I’ve been trying to diversify my holdings and I thought—”
“You want to buy my company?” Drake said, his eyes widening a bit. He’d been searching for weeks for someone to take the company off his hands, but he’d never checked with local cattlemen. Maybe this evening wouldn’t be a total bust for him after all. “Let’s sit down and discuss it some more, shall we?”
They walked to a nearby table to talk and Drake was soon knee-deep in conversations about balance sheets and year projections and future visions for the company. Something Drake never would have imagined himself doing just a few months prior, but such was his life now. At least until this mess was settled. He didn’t know whether to be pleased with himself or horrified that he actually knew the answers to all of Bexler’s questions—but at least that helped move the conversation along. Bexler had a good head for business, beneath all those layers of longhorn-imprinted silk, and they communicated well together, both straight talkers without a lot of BS mixed in to confuse things.
When Drake finally came up for air, he glanced toward the exit again, but didn’t see Lake. Frowning, he checked the groups of people nearby, but saw no sign of that breathtaking purple dress of hers. He pushed to his feet to better scan the area. She wouldn’t leave without telling him. She had to be here somewhere. Was she in the bathroom? How long had she been gone? He couldn’t be sure.
“So, should we schedule an appointment at your office, to discuss this formally?” Bexler asked.
Drake looked down at the guy, too distracted now to think about his schedule. “Uh, yes. Sure. Have your assistant call my secretary in the morning.” He scribbled down the number on a napkin for Bexler. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to locate someone.”
He took off without waiting for Bexler’s response. Weaving through the throngs of designer-clad people, he vaguely responded to the greetings of attendees as he passed, concentrating only on finding Lake. When he stopped one of the waiters to a
sk if he’d seen her, the guy pointed toward the exit where Drake had last seen her, saying she went outside, probably to get some fresh air or something.
Or something?
Gut tight and pulse pounding, he shoved forward toward the green glowing sign above the door, barely noticing the people he passed, not caring if he was rude or not. Lake’s safety was all that mattered now. Her and the twins. He would not fail them. Not again. He pushed outside and into the warm Texas night, the dark sky above sparkling with stars as far as the eye could see, but he didn’t care about any of it. All he cared about was finding Lake.
The sound of a scuffle nearby made him whip his head around in time to see a flash of deep purple. Lake’s dress. He took off at a run toward the end of the line of cars nearby, and spotted one of her strappy shoes lying on the pavement.
Oh God. OhGodOhGodOhGod.
There was another sound, a muffled scream followed by a deep grunt.
Adrenaline sizzling through his veins, he quickened his steps, sprinting in the direction of the sound, and happened upon a large guy dressed in all black, his beefy arms wrapped tight around Lake while he held a white cloth over her mouth with one hand. She was twisting her head from side to side, making it harder for her attacker to hold the cloth in place. Drake went into full SEAL mode in zero seconds flat.
He charged the guy, who was concentrating so hard on keeping Lake contained that he didn’t see Drake approach, and rammed him hard with his full body weight, knocking the guy back a few steps and freeing Lake from his grasp.
“Stay the fuck away from her, asshole!” Drake shouted, his breath tight in his chest and his body tensed and ready for a fight. “I swear to God if you hurt one hair on her head, I will kill you.”
The thug came at him and Drake lowered his head, barreling into the guy’s middle with his skull and knocking the wind out of his opponent. The guy was big and sturdy and landed a few punches to Drake’s face and torso, but Drake know how to fight hard and dirty and didn’t hesitate to use all his skills to hit Lake’s attacker where it hurt the most—gut, groin, voice box. Soon, the brawl caught the attention of the valets out front and their shouts and footsteps had the thug jumping into a waiting van before Drake could get him down on the ground to rip that mask off his face and identify the bastard.
Within seconds, they disappeared into the night. Drake was left out of breath and doubled over, resting his hands on his knees as he sucked in a few painful gulps of oxygen. Fucker cracked at least two ribs, by his estimation, but Drake was certain his attacker would be walking funny for days.
Lake was at his side, trembling from head to toe, and running her hands over his back frantically like he might expire on her at any second. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said gruffly, pulling her against him, needing to see for himself that she wasn’t hurt. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“For what?” she said against his chest.
“For letting that asshole get his hands on you. I should’ve kept better watch. I should’ve protected you.” He kept kissing the top of her head, rubbing her arms, her back, anywhere he could reach, to convince himself she was here, she was all right. “This is my fault.”
“Stop it.” She shook her head, then peered up at him, her cheeks pale and her eyes sparkling. “This isn’t your fault. If anything, it’s mine. I dragged you into this mess. And you did protect me. That guy’s gone now and I’m fine.”
Drake scowled and stepped back from her, holding her at arms’ length to look her up and down. Her hair had fallen out of its neat bun and one side of her dress was torn and if he ever got his hands on that fucker again, he was going to take him out. Permanently. He took a deep breath to calm the rage threatening to overtake him, and instead turned to the two young valets who were standing off to the side of them, looking uncertain. “Call the police and tell them there’s been an attack in the parking lot.” The guys ran off back toward the building and he pulled Lake close again, saying, “Once we give them a report, we’re going to the ER to get you checked out. I’m not taking any more chances with you or the twins.”
Sixteen
“Any nausea, vomiting, or lightheadedness?” the ER doc asked Lake while examining her. “Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?”
“Two,” she said, getting more annoyed by the second. She was all for making sure the babies were fine after the attack in the parking lot, but the fact that Drake was hovering around her now like a nervous mother goose bothered her more than anything. Of course, the fullness in her chest that signaled a good cry was imminent as soon as they were out of this place didn’t help either. Lake wasn’t a crier. Never had been. Growing up, standing around whining about something—no matter how terrible or unjust—was a quick way to get smacked. She’d learned early and well to suck it up and get on with it. As a result, it was deeply embarrassing to her whenever she found herself unable to hold back tears—especially in front of someone else. Even if all she wanted to do at present was hurl herself into Drake’s arms and bury her head against his shoulder.
Nope. Not doing that. Stay strong. Stay ready. Stay alert.
The pep talk going on inside her head only amplified the rising tension inside her until she felt ready to explode.
“Well,” the ER doc said, moving away to type her findings into the computer against the wall. “I’d say both you and the babies came through the ordeal unscathed. You and your husband should be fine to go home as soon as I get your paperwork finished and your lab results back.”
“He’s not my husband,” Lake snapped before she could catch herself, and heat prickled her cheeks. It wasn’t the doctor’s fault she was here tonight. It was stupid Devon and whatever rotten schemes he’d been up to. At the doctor’s startled look, Lake stared down at her hands clasped protectively over her belly. “Drake is just a friend.”
“A friend who’s concerned about your well-being,” Drake said, frowning. “Doctor, are you sure it’s okay to release her? Maybe she should have a stress test or an ultrasound to make sure—”
“I’m fine, all right?” Once again, the stress inside Lake boiled over into misplaced rage. Drake was staring at her now like a deer in the headlights and guilt joined the roiling mess inside her, but she was on a roll and couldn’t stop now. “Why the hell are you so worried about me and these babies anyway? They’re not yours and you won’t even be around when they’re born. We’re not your concern, okay? Not me and not my babies.”
Drake blinked at her a second as if taking that in, dots of crimson forming on his pale cheeks. Silence stretched taut between them and if she could have taken her words back she would have, but it was too late. And honestly, they weren’t entirely wrong either. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t been thinking about that more lately, ever since they’d slept together. Lake had done her best to push it out of her mind, but tonight—with the attack—all those worries had rushed back full force.
“I’m, uh, just going to run out to the nurses’ station real fast to grab some instruction sheets and I’ll be back in a moment to get you folks on your way. Excuse me,” the doctor said, hurrying out of the room like her butt was on fire. Lake couldn’t really blame her. As it was, she was stuck here in this room with the one man she couldn’t escape. Deep in her heart, she knew that even after he was gone, Drake Shepperton would stay with her forever.
She ought to say something, but the more Lake tried to force words the blanker her mind felt. Honestly, what was she going to tell him? “Sorry for putting it all out there like that, but it’s the truth”? “Sorry I slept with your brother when I knew he wasn’t even remotely the man for me and now I’m carrying his legacy”? “Sorry you won’t stick around because you can’t stick around and I went and fell in love with you regardless”?
Yeah, none of that was going to help anything at all and Lake was nothing if not resilient. So she let her accusations sit there, hanging in the air between them like live grenades w
aiting for the final pin to be pulled.
After several tense seconds, Drake cursed under his breath and stalked away to stand in the corner with his phone in his hand, scowling down at the screen and effectively shutting her out. Her heart caved in on itself a little more. His angry indifference was almost worse than his cloying concern, but she’d created this mess and now she needed to find a way to be okay with it.
Thankfully, the doctor returned a couple minutes later to go over the discharge paperwork with Lake. Basically, rest, eat, drink lots of fluids, call them if anything weird happened. She nodded and smiled when appropriate, anything to get this over with so she could get out of this room and away from Drake.
Except once they left the hospital, they had the car ride back to the condo. Then the stilted interactions once they went inside. Normally the place felt open and airy, but now she and Drake seemed to run into each other every time they moved and they were constantly in each other’s way.
She took a shower, then changed into her PJs and sat on the edge of the bed, too restless to sleep but too afraid of another confrontation with Drake to go back out into the living room. Anything she said now would probably just make things worse, so she sat there staring at the wall instead, berating herself for losing her temper at the hospital until a knock on her door made her look up to see Drake slumped against the doorframe.
“Look,” he said, his dark brows knit as he stared down at his hands. “I’m sorry if I was crowding you tonight at the ER. That was never my intention.” He sighed and met her gaze, his dark eyes full of contrition. “I just…” He shrugged. “I just kept thinking about how terrifying that attack tonight must’ve been for you and I wasn’t there to help and…” Drake shook his head and looked away again. “I feel like shit about that. I should’ve been there in time to stop it before it even started. It’s my job to be there. To protect you.”