But it didn’t bother her in the least that her brothers’ good deeds had somehow made people forget about her. Besides, she hadn’t lived in this country in four years, returning only on occasion to visit, mainly around the holidays.
She began mingling, introducing herself as Orin Jeffries’s daughter, and actually got a kick out of seeing first surprise and then acknowledgment on many faces. One such incident was taking place now.
“Why, Olivia, how good it is to see you again. It’s been a while since you’ve been back home. But I do remember you now. You must be extremely proud of your father and brothers.”
“Yes, I am, Mrs. Hancock, and how is Beau? I understand he’s doing extremely well. You must be proud of him.”
She watched the older woman’s eyes light up as she went into a spiel about her son. She was a proud mother. Olivia knew Beau from school. Unless he had changed over the years, Beau Hancock was an irrefutable jerk. He’d thought he was the gift to every girl at Collinshill High School.
She glanced down at her watch. She had ten minutes left before everyone would take their seats for lunch. She had called the Saxon Hotel on the off chance that someone from housekeeping had come across her diamond earring and turned it in. That hadn’t been the case. A part of her was disappointed that it had not been.
There was still one section of the room she needed to cover. Mrs. Hancock, in singing Beau’s praises, had taken up quite a bit of her time. Now she was again making her way through the crowds, speaking to everyone, as Norris had suggested.
“You’re doing a marvelous job working the room,” Senator Reed whispered. The older man had suddenly appeared by her side.
She forced a smile. For some reason, she’d never cared for him. “Thanks.”
She had already met several of the candidates since entering the room, but she had yet to meet the man who would be her father’s real competition, Reggie Westmoreland.
As she continued mingling and heading to the area where Reggie Westmoreland was supposedly rubbing elbows with the crowd, her curiosity about the man who opposed her father couldn’t help but be piqued. She started to ask Senator Reed about him but changed her mind. The senator’s opinion wouldn’t be the most valuable.
“You look nice, Olivia.”
She glanced up at the senator, who seemed determined to remain by her side. He was a few years older than her father, and for some reason, he had always made her feel uncomfortable.
“Thanks, Senator.” She refrained from saying that he also looked nice, which he did. Like her father, he was a good-looking man for his age, but Senator Reed always had an air of snobbery about him, like he was born with too low expectations of others.
“It was my suggestion that your father send for you.” When she stopped walking and glanced at him, with a raised brow, he added, “He was in a dilemma, and I thought bringing you home to be his escort was the perfect answer.”
She bit back a retort, that bringing her home had not been the perfect answer. Being in that dilemma might have prompted her dad to ask Cathy to attend some of those functions with him. No telling how things would have taken off from there if the senator hadn’t butted in.
She was about to open her mouth, to tell Senator Reed that her father was old enough to think for himself, when, all of a sudden, for no reason at all, she pulled in a quick breath. She glanced up ahead, and no more than four feet in front of her, there stood a man with his back to her.
The first thing she noticed about him was his height. He was taller then the men he was talking to. And there was something about his particular height, and the way his head tilted at an angle as he listened to what one of the men was saying, that held her spellbound.
He was dressed in a suit, and she could only admire how it fit him. The broadness of his shoulders and the tapering of his waist sent a feeling of familiarity through her. She stopped walking momentarily and composed herself, not understanding what was happening to her.
“Is anything wrong, Olivia?”
She glanced up at Senator Reed and saw concern in his eyes. She knew she couldn’t tell him what she was thinking. There was no way she could voice her suspicions to anyone.
She needed to go somewhere to pull herself together, to consider the strong possibility that the man standing not far away was her Jack Sprat. Or could it be that she was so wrapped up in the memories of that night that she was quick to assume that any man of a tall stature who possessed broad shoulders had to be her mystery man?
“Olivia?”
Instead of saying anything, she shifted her gaze from the senator to look again at the man, whose back was still to her. It was at that precise moment that he slowly turned around, and his gaze settled on her. In a quick second, she pulled in a sharp breath as she scanned his face, and her gaze settled on a firm jaw that had an angular plane. Her artist’s eye also picked up other things, and they were things others would probably not notice—the stark symmetry of his face, which was clear with or without a mask, the shape of his head and the alignment of his ears from his cheeks. These were things she recognized.
Things she remembered.
And she knew, without a doubt, that she was staring into the face of the man whom she had spent the night with on Saturday. The man whose body had given her hours upon hours of immeasurable pleasure. And impossible as it seemed—because they’d kept their masks in place the entire time—she had a feeling from the way he was staring back at her just as intently as she was staring at him that he had recognized her, too.
“Olivia?”
She broke eye contact with the stranger to gaze up at the senator. The man was becoming annoying, but at the moment, he was the one person who could tell her exactly what she needed to know. “Senator Reed, that guy up there, the one who turned around to look at me. Who is he?”
The senator followed her gaze and frowned deeply. “The two of you had to meet eventually. That man, young lady, is the enemy.”
She swallowed deeply before saying, “The enemy?”
“Yes, the enemy. He’s the man that’s opposing your father in his bid for the Senate.”
Olivia’s head began spinning before the senator could speak his next words.
“That, my dear,” the senator went on to say, “is Reggie Westmoreland.”
It was her.
Reggie knew it with every breath he took. Her lips were giving her away. And he wasn’t sure what part of him was recognizable to her, but he knew just as sure as they were standing there, staring at each other, that they were as intimately familiar to each other as any two people could be.
It was strange. He’d been standing here with Brent, his brother Jared, his cousins Dare and Thorn, and Thorn’s wife, Tara. They’d all been listening to Thorn, a nationally known motorcycle builder and racer, who was telling them about an order he’d received to build a bike for actor Matt Damon. Then, all of a sudden, he’d felt a strange sensation, followed by a stirring in the lower part of his gut.
He had turned around, and he’d looked straight into her face. His Wonder Woman.
He couldn’t lay claim to recognizing any of her other facial features, but her lips were a dead giveaway. Blatantly sensual, he had kissed them, tongued them, licked them and tasted them to his heart’s content. He knew the shape of them in his sleep, knew their texture, knew what part of them was so sensitive that when he’d touched her there, she had moaned.
She looked totally stunning in the stylish skirt and blouse she was wearing. The outfit complemented her figure. Even if he hadn’t met her before, he would be trying his best to do so now. Out of his peripheral vision, he noted a number of men looking at her, and he understood why. She was gorgeous.
He lost control, and his feet began moving toward her.
“Reggie, where are you going?” Brent asked.
He didn’t respond, because he truly didn’t know what he could say. He continued walking until he came to a stop directly in front of the senator and the woman. The
senator, he noted, was frowning. The woman’s gaze hadn’t left his. She seemed as entranced as he was.
He found his voice to say, “Good afternoon, Senator Reed. It’s good seeing you again.”
It was a lie, and he realized the senator knew it, but he didn’t care. Approaching him would force the man to make introductions, and if it took a lie, then so be it.
“Westmoreland, I see you’ve decided to go through with it,” replied the senator.
Reggie gave the man a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course.” He then shifted his gaze back to the woman. The senator would be outright rude not to make an introduction, and one thing Reggie did know about the senator was that he believed in following proper decorum.
“And let me introduce you to Olivia Jeffries. Olivia, this is Reggie Westmoreland,” the senator said.
At the mention of her name, Reggie’s mind went into a tailspin. “Jeffries?” he replied.
“Yes,” the senator said as a huge, smug smile touched his lips. “Jeffries. She’s Orin Jeffries’s daughter, who is visiting from Paris and will remain here during the duration of the campaign.”
Reggie nodded as his eyes once again settled on Olivia. He then reached out his hand. “Olivia, it’s nice meeting you. I’m sure your father is excited about having you home.”
“Thank you,” replied Olivia.
They both felt it the moment their hands touched, and they both knew it. It was those same feelings that had driven them to leave the party on Saturday night and to go somewhere to be alone, with the sole purpose of getting intimately connected. Reggie opened his mouth to say something, and then a voice from the microphone stopped him.
“Everyone is asked to take a seat so lunch can be served. Your table number is located on your ticket.”
“It was nice meeting you, Mr. Westmoreland,” Olivia said, not sure what else to say at the moment.
She honestly had thought she would not see him again, not this soon, not ever. And now that he knew their predicament—that she was the daughter of the man who was his opponent in this political race—she hoped that he would accept the inevitable. Nothing had changed. Even with their identities exposed, there could never be anything between them beyond what had happened Saturday night.
“It was nice meeting you as well, Ms. Jeffries,” said Reggie. And then he did something that was common among Frenchmen but rare with Americans. Bending slightly, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it before turning and walking away.
Five
Olivia found that every time she lifted her fork to her mouth, her gaze would automatically drift to the next table, the one where Reggie Westmoreland was sitting. And each time, unerringly, their gazes would meet.
After their introduction, she had excused herself to the senator, smiling and saying she needed to go to the ladies’ room. Once there she had taken a deep breath. It was a wonder she hadn’t passed out. With his mask in place, Reggie Westmoreland had been handsome. Without his mask, he took her breath away. While standing in front of him, she’d had to tamp down her emotions and the sensations flowing through her.
His eyes were very dark, almost chocolate, and their shape, which she had been denied seeing on Saturday night, was almond, beneath thick brows. It had taken everything in her power to force her muscles to relax. And when he had taken her hand and kissed the back of it before walking off, she’d thought she would swoon right then and there.
“Libby, are you okay? You’ve barely touched your meal,” her father said, interrupting her thoughts.
She glanced over to him and smiled. “Yes, Daddy, I’m fine.”
“Westmoreland is the cause of it,” said Senator Reed, jumping in. “She met him right before we took our seats. He probably gave her an upset stomach.”
Her father frowned. “Was he rude to you, sweetheart?” he asked, with deep concern tinged with anger.
She was opening her mouth to assure her father that Reggie hadn’t been rude when Senator Reed said, “He was quite taken with her, Orin.”
She ignored the senator’s comment, thinking that he didn’t know the half of it. Instead, she answered her father. “No, he wasn’t rude, Dad. In fact, although we spoke only briefly, I thought he was rather nice.” She smiled. “Quite the charmer.”
“The enemy is never nice or charming, Olivia. Remember that,” the senator said, speaking to her like she was a child. “I strongly suggest that during this campaign, you stay away from him.”
She was opening her mouth to tell the senator that she truly didn’t give a royal damn about what he would strongly suggest when her father spoke.
“You don’t have to worry about Libby, Al. She’s a smart girl. She would never get mixed up with the likes of Westmoreland.”
The likes of Westmoreland? Was there something about Reggie that her father and the senator knew but that she didn’t? she wondered. Granted, that might be true, since she had arrived in the country on Friday. But still, she heard intense dislike in her father’s voice and pondered the reason for it. Did it have to do only with the campaign, or was there more? Marc Norris was the only other person at their table, and he wasn’t saying anything. But then Norris didn’t look like the type to gossip. She didn’t know him well. In fact, she had just met him on Friday evening.
“Well, if I didn’t know better, I’d think Olivia and Westmoreland had met before,” replied Senator Reed.
The senator’s words almost made her drop her fork. She had to tighten her grip on it. She thought about Reggie. Had their reaction to each other been that obvious?
There was a lag in the conversation at the table, and she knew from the brief moment of silence that the men were waiting for her to respond one way or the other. So she did. “Then it’s a good thing that you know better, Senator, isn’t it?”
She said the words so sweetly, there was no way that he or anyone else could tell if she was being sincere or smart-alecky. Before any further conversation could take place, one of the sponsors of the event got up and went to the podium to announce that the speeches were about to begin.
“Okay, Reggie. What’s going on with you and that woman at the other table? The one you can’t seem to keep your eyes off,” Brent said in a whisper as he leaned close to Reggie.
Reggie lifted a brow. “What makes you think something is going on?”
Brent chuckled. “I have eyes. I can see. You do know she’s Jeffries’s daughter.”
Reggie leaned back in his chair. He couldn’t eat another mouthful, although he hadn’t eaten much. He was still trying to recover from the fact that he and his mystery woman had officially met. “Yes, the senator introduced us. And grudgingly, I might add. He didn’t seem too happy to do so,” Reggie said.
“Figures. He probably wants her for himself.” At Reggie’s surprised look, Brent went on to explain. “Reed is into young women big-time. I once dated someone who worked at his office. He tried coming on to her several times, and she ended up quitting when the old man wouldn’t give up no matter how many times she tried turning him off. The man takes sexual harassment to a whole new level.”
Reggie’s jaw tightened. The thought that the senator could be interested in Olivia, even remotely, made his blood boil. “But he’s friends with her father.”
“And that’s supposed to mean something?” Brent countered, trying to keep his voice low. “I guess it would mean something to honorable men, but Reed is not honorable. We don’t have a term-limit law here, so it makes you wonder why he isn’t seeking another term. Rumor has it that he was given a choice to either step down or have his business—namely, his affairs with women half his age—spread across the front pages of the newspapers. I guess since he’s still married and his wife is wealthier than he is, although she’s bedridden, he didn’t want that.”
Reggie shook his head. “Well, he shouldn’t concern himself with Olivia Jeffries.”
“And why is that?”
Reggie didn’t say anything for fear
of saying too much. In the end, he didn’t have to respond, because it was his turn to speak.
“You gave a nice speech, Dad. You did a wonderful job,” Olivia said once she and her father got home.
“Yes, but so did Westmoreland,” Orin said, heading for the kitchen. “He tried to make me look like someone who doesn’t support higher education.”
“But only because you are against any legislation to build another state university,” she reminded him.
“We have enough colleges, Libby.”
She decided to back away from the conversation because she didn’t agree with her father on this issue. The last thing she wanted was to get into an argument with him about Reggie Westmoreland and his speech. If nothing else, she had reached the conclusion at dinner that neither her father nor the senator wanted her to get involved in any way with the competition.
She glanced at her watch. “I think I’m going to change and then go to the park and paint for a while.”
“Yes, you should do that while you still have good sunlight left. And feel free to take my car, since I won’t need it anymore today. That rental car of yours is too small,” Orin said, already pulling off his tie as he headed up the stairs.
She could tell he was somewhat upset about how the luncheon had gone. Evidently, he had assumed, or had been led to believe, that winning the Senate seat would be a piece of cake. It probably would have been if Reggie Westmoreland hadn’t decided to throw his hat into the ring at the eleventh hour.
And she had to admit that although her father’s speech had been good, Reggie’s speech had been better. Instead of making generalities, he had hammered down specifics, and he had delivered the speech eloquently. And it had seemed that as his gaze moved around the room while he was speaking, his eyes would seek her out. Each time they’d done so and she’d gazed into them, she’d felt she could actually see barely concealed desire in their dark depths. She had sat there with the hardened nipples of her breasts pressed tightly against her blouse the entire time.
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