by Taylor Lee
Gabe dragged his attention away from Ana to respond to Chao. The older man’s stern face was tight with a mix of emotions, the muscles in his neck tense, straining. “I apologize, Gabriel. I am sorry you were witness to this disagreement in my family. As you can see, there is much anger between my sister-in-law and my children, especially my daughter.”
Gabe kept his voice even, attempting to allay his friend’s upset. “Family dynamics can be challenging, Chao. Of all people, I understand those challenges.”
Chao nodded in agreement. “I know you do, Gabriel. But my daughter was unnecessarily rude to you. She… she doesn’t get out much. By her own choice, she refuses most company, especially her aunt’s. She is strong willed, determined… perhaps a little wild.” His voice trailed off as if he didn’t want to reveal more of his beloved daughter’s foibles.
Gabe quirked a brow, an ironic grin tugging at his mouth. “No need to go on, Chao. I can see you have your hands full with that young woman.”
“That I do, Gabriel, that I do.” A soft smile spread over the older man’s face when he added, “It is a task that has brought me a lifetime of happiness.”
“I can understand that, Chao,” Gabe said with a noncommittal shrug. To himself he thought: a little discipline along the way wouldn’t have hurt. Watching the striking young woman in her outrageous dress surrounded by men who were having difficulty keeping their tongues in their mouths, Gabe swallowed a primal grunt, not wanting to add to the growing arousal straining his trousers. Staring across the room at Ana, his hands twitched in anticipation. Oh yeah! Discipline is clearly in order for that little hellcat — by someone who knows how to wield it.
Chapter 5
Ana felt Gabe’s gaze from across the room. The skin on her neck tingled. Her palms were sweaty. Heat and cold tormented her simultaneously. One minute she was shivering, the next she needed fresh air. She was angry with her aunt for causing the ugly scene, and furious that Gabe had observed it. Why was he here? How could he possibly be working with her father? Did her father know the kind of man he was? What would he say, if he knew what had happened in the barn?
“Ana, excuse me. Did you hear me? I asked if I could have the pleasure of escorting you to dinner.”
Ana looked up at the large blond-haired man standing beside her, peering at her as if she was deaf.
“I… I’m sorry, Alex, I’m a little distracted. What did you say about dinner?’
The young man took out his handkerchief and wiped the sweat off his brow. “I was hoping you might sit beside me at dinner? Is… is that possible?”
Ana did her best to collect her wits. This is what she hated about these parties. All these men — God, there had to be at least six of them hovering like horseflies next to her — waiting to hear her response.
“I don’t know, Alex. Usually my aunt has some grand scheme about these kinds of things. You know, it is her fondest wish that someday she will be appointed to run the world.”
Ana laughed lightly when she said it. Instantly, six grown men roared in response, as though she had uttered history’s most amusing witticism. Ana choked down her annoyance, wondering how she could escape. She had to get away from these tiresome men. How could all six men surrounding her be so boring? So insipid? Oh God. What could she do? If she left these men, she was certain he would confront her. She could feel him, sense him. Peeking over her shoulder, she saw him less than twenty feet away. He was sipping on a glass of champagne, and no fewer than eight women were hanging on every word he said.
She cast a longing glance at the doorway, wondering if she dared make a dash for it. She could run up the stairs, lock the door to her chambers, and never come out again. Contemplating her narrow options, she heard her father’s welcome request and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Ana, your aunt has summoned us to dinner. May I escort you to the table?”
Relieved that her father didn’t seem angry with her, she cast him a grateful glance and surged toward him.
He smiled and pulled her close, whispering in her ear.
“I’m not too old, my dear, to recognize a maiden who needs rescuing.”
Tears pricked at the back of her eyelids as she gazed up at her father.
“Thank you, Father. Even though you are not wearing chainmail, and I don’t see a white horse, you most certainly are my knight in shining armor. And, yes, I do need to be rescued.”
Her father laughed softly as he guided her away from the pack of hungry wolves jostling one another for a favored spot.
“You know, Ana, that I will always protect you.”
“Even from my aunt?”
He smiled at her. “Especially from your aunt. Now, come, my dear. If I know you, you haven’t eaten since morning and you will need your strength to keep this pack at bay,” he added with an amused glance over his shoulder, at the crowd of men who were elbowing one another out of the way to come closer.
~~~
Penelope batted her eyes up at Gabe and said in a simpering tone, “Would you do me the honor of sitting beside me at dinner, Mr. McKenna?”
Gabe forced himself to look away from Chao and Ana and focus on the annoying woman who had latched on to him. He bowed slightly.
“It will be my pleasure, Mrs. Hamilton.”
Gazing at him with her cold, colorless eyes, she pursed her lips as though aggrieved. “Please, dear boy, call me Penelope.”
He nodded forcing himself not to grimace. “But, of course, Penelope.”
“May I call you Gabriel?’”
Yanking his gaze away from the negotiations taking place between Chao and the men lined up behind Ana, he turned back to his diminutive tormentor.
“What… I mean, of course, you may call me Gabriel.”
Now that it was clear he would not have the opportunity to sit by Ana, Gabe burned to know who would win that prize. He was grateful when Kai elbowed Ana’s blond-haired lapdog out of the way and plunked himself down next to his sister. Gabe was mildly comforted when Chao allowed the dullest-looking of the crowd of men who had been circling her to sit at her left. Even though Gabe was stuck with Penelope, at least from this distance he could see and hear most of the conversation involving Ana.
Gabe pulled out Penelope’s chair, helping her to sit, pretending not to see her attempt at a flirtatious smile. Turning to the plump blonde woman on his left, he realized she was waiting for him to seat her as well. As he pulled out her chair then settled in his own, Gabe was reminded of how much he despised these rituals. Gazing around the table at the well-dressed, wealthy crowd, his gut clenched at the familiar sight. From experience, he knew the conversation would be a competition among the men to see who was the richest, who had pulled off the biggest deal, and who had stepped on the most people in the process. And the women, God yes, if the giggly blonde next to him was an example, the distaff side of the conversation would be more subtle than the one among their mates, but even more vicious in the attempt to outdo one another. He nodded to the grey-haired, sharp-eyed woman across the table, agreeing that it was a pity he missed the Broadcrest dance, as it was no doubt the event of the season. Gabe didn’t mention that the event coincided with his biggest night yet at the Shoe Horn brothel, where he won a record $200,000 in a fifteen-hour poker game.
Keeping a surreptitious eye on the other end of the table, he was gratified to see that the only person who looked less happy to be there than Ana was her brother Kai. Gabe was saved from an argument with Penelope and the grey-haired battle-axe as to which dressmaker was the most expensive by the discussion emanating between Ana and the young man to her left. He realized that he had misjudged the foppish -looking fellow next to her, appropriately named Peter Harcourt the Third. Gabe knew men’s clothing and jewelry. He estimated that the pale would-be suitor sidling up to Ana was wearing a small fortune on his back and around his wrist. No question he was a wealthy aristocrat — with all the pretentious mannerisms Gabe despised. The two of them exchanged enough knowing glances
to establish that they were rivals. It was just a matter of time until they took each other on. Given the snob’s appearance, Gabe sensed that, to his regret, their altercation would be verbal, not physical.
In a lull in the conversation, he overheard Peter say to Ana, “I rarely see you at these parties, Miss Li. Where have you been hiding?”
Her response was short, cutting. “I haven’t been hiding. I despise parties.”
A dead silence greeted her vehement response.
Aware that everyone at the table was listening to their exchange, Peter made the mistake of trying to salvage his pride.
As though convincing a misbehaving child to eat her vegetables, he gave Ana an unctuous smile. “I see. Perhaps that is because you have not been seated by the right man.”
Ana lifted her chin and stared at Peter, a gesture that Gabe now knew signaled an attack. He wasn’t disappointed.
In a sweet voice she said, “You are correct. I never have been.” Then as if to drive in the knife she added, “Including now.”
Penelope’s gasp was echoed by a dozen others around the table.
Gabe grinned to himself. Damn, the little spitfire is as smart as she is rude. At least she recognizes slime when she sees it. Penelope’s gasp, a warning salvo to Chao, confirmed that she did not share Gabe’s appreciation of her niece’s bad manners.
Up to this point, Penelope had been drooling over Gabe, drawing him into one trite conversation after another. Her mannerisms were driving him crazy. He wondered if she really did not know how off-putting they were. Twirling her wineglass with gnarled fingers while affecting a pretend pout at his curt replies, she looked like the archetypical bad witch in children’s fairy tales.
As if to cover for her disreputable niece and the insult to the wealthiest of the suitors she’d brought in to annoy Ana, Penelope turned to Gabe, her question a blatant attempt to change the conversation.
“Tell me, Gabriel, you must miss Boston as much as I do. How have you managed to survive in this uncivilized part of the country?”
Gabe smiled at her, but his words were brusque. “To the contrary, Penelope. I am pleased to be as far away from Boston as I can be.”
Penelope flushed at his abrupt retort with a disbelieving mutter, “Really… well… I never….”
Stepping into the uncomfortable silence, the older man sitting next to the battle-axe gave Gabe a confrontational once over.
“Let’s hear more about you, young fella? Did you say your name was McKenna?”
Gabe allowed a slight smile to cross his lips.
“I didn’t say. But, yes, my name is Gabriel McKenna.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “McKenna, huh? Any relationship to the senator?”
Penelope jumped in now back on solid ground. She simpered, “Oh, I thought everyone knew. Gabriel is Senator McKenna’s son.”
~~~
From the other end of the table, Ana looked up. She was as surprised as many of the others at this latest cannonball. What intrigued her most was Gabe’s clear discomfort. Rather than responding to Penelope’s gushing announcement, he simply nodded and looked down at the table.
The gruff old man persisted, “I knew your father some years ago. Still pokin’ his nose into every kind of business, legal or not?”
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen my father in some time,” Gabe responded coolly, as if to end the conversation.
Ana felt Peter come to attention. He had been silent since she nailed him with her put-down, but now he was staring at Gabe with a glint in his eyes.
“Rory McKenna? Well, well. That is quite an association. You may have moved away from Boston, but stories about your father certainly have not. Tell me, Gabriel. Is there a woman left on the east coast that he hasn’t bedded?”
In the uneasy silence that settled over the table, Ana watched Gabe put down his fork, pick up his napkin, and wipe his mouth as though removing an unpleasant taste. He shifted slightly and settled back in his chair. His eyes were cold, hard, when he turned to Peter, but a smile caught the corner of his mouth.
“I wasn’t aware that he limited himself to the east coast.”
A spattering of nervous laughter from the men at the table greeted his response.
Ana saw Peter clench the edge of the table, his fingers white with the effort. He glared at Gabe, who was leaning back, an easy nonchalance marking his demeanor. Only the hard glint in his eyes, a python confronting a field mouse, spoke to the tension he must be feeling.
“What about you, McKenna? What do you do?” Peter asked, his voice sharp, devoid of any semblance of courtesy. “I heard you’re a U.S. Marshal.”
Gabe nodded. “I was, some time ago.”
“Your father get that position for you? It’s not easy to become a marshal. I understand it take connections, and oftentimes a healthy bribe under the table as well, to get those marshal spots.”
Gabe’s cool tone held the undercurrent of a threat. “It’s easier than you might think, Peter. The best connections are the willingness and ability to shoot a man dead at forty paces or if you prefer a knife over a gun, slicing him to death.”
Peter paled, then replied with a sniff. “My goodness, you have left your Boston ways behind.” Glancing at Penelope, whose expression was stony at best, Peter continued, “I don’t know, Penelope, I think your consort is more uncivilized than you might think.”
Penelope looked as stunned as everyone else at the table.
Ana was surprised when Peter refused to quit, just kept pushing.
Glaring at Gabe, he said, “What kind of work do you do now that you’re not a marshal?”
Gabe quirked a brow. “What comes my way.”
Peter didn’t hide his disdain. “Humph, I suppose living off your inheritance allows you not to work.”
Gabe leisurely glanced around the table, and grinned. “Hmm, if that were true, and it is not, I would appear to be in good company.”
There were a few guffaws and Ana looked up in time to see her father nod and exchange a wink with Gabe.
Ana was intrigued by the interchange. Peter’s anger was palpable and even though she despised Gabe, Ana was glad he’d put the pompous fop in his place.
At that moment, Molly and several other maids entered with trays of deserts. Ana watched Molly make a beeline for Gabe. Even across the table, she could hear the husky familiarity in the hussy’s voice as she sidled up to him.
“Sir, canna I be gettin’ you any of these sweets to polish off your dinner?”
Gabe started and then frowned. “No, thank you. I have had quite enough.”
The Chinese butler, who had been with Chao’s family as long as Ana could remember, stepped between Gabe and the impudent maid. Nudging her aside, he asked in a quiet professional tone, “Perhaps more wine, sir.’
Gabe gave him an appreciative nod. “Yes, that I will definitely have more of.”
~~~
Gabe took a sip of wine and caught Ana glaring at Molly. Seeing the darts flying across the table, he grinned to himself. He didn’t know if the missiles were intended for Molly or for him. Probably, he thought, for both.
As Molly made her way around the table offering the sweets, she came to Ana. Apparently unaware of the hostility radiating from her mistress, the brash girl asked in her sugary brogue. “Will you be havin’ some of these ‘binyets’, Miss? They are tasty.”
“Did you make them?”
Molly started at her mistress’s crisp tone. “Yes, Miss, I did. I made them meself just this morning.”
Glancing at the slight redness encircling Molly’s wrists, Ana asked, “With your bare hands?”
Molly looked confused then responded. “Uh, yes, miss. With me bare hands.”
Ana’s eyes flashed. “Then I don’t want any. Thank you. Leave please.”
Gabe choked on his wine, struggling to squelch his laughter. Wiping his eyes with his napkin, he smiled at Ana, but she just flushed and looked away. At that moment, Peter took the
bottle of wine from the butler and offered to refill Ana’s glass. Ana shook her head and jumped up, knocking her chair to the floor with a noisy clatter. She paled, then shook her head and ran for the door.
Chapter 6
Ana clung to the balcony railing, wanting to scream, but afraid she might cry. For the moment she was trapped. The veranda door was the closest exit from the dining room and the quickest way to make her escape. At least now she could breathe. She would wait for the rest of them to leave the table, then sneak up to her chambers. One more minute at the dining room table would have done her in.
Just when she was beginning to regain her composure, she heard the door open. She felt him, sensed him. She grasped the railing for support, then willed herself to face him. His voice shot tremors through her body.
“Do you always leave the table rudely, without being excused?”
She swallowed hard and tried to ignore the sensations flooding over her, stunned at the sight of him. Standing in the moonlight, he was even more beautiful than she had allowed herself to remember. She forced her voice to be strong, cool. “Do you?”
Her knees buckled when he smiled at her. “No. Your aunt rather reluctantly excused me.”
He moved closer to her and his smile widened, “I see we have something in common besides a penchant for barns.” Holding up his hand to stop her protest, he added, “You appear to dislike dinner parties as much as I do.”
She gave her head a vehement shake.
“We have nothing in common!”
Holding her gaze, he dug his cigarette case out of his vest pocket and extracted a cigarette. In the flare of the match she saw the gleam in his dark emerald eyes. She watched enraptured, as he lit the cigarette and puffed on it. Shaking off her stupor, she snapped, “Why are you here?!”
