by Cindy Dees
Arms snaked around his waist from behind, and her delicious chest pressed against his back. He could all but feel the firm globes cupped in his hands. Swelling sweetly into his mouth. He groaned aloud. “I’m trying to be a gentleman, here, dammit. You’re not helping, Willa.”
“Kiss me, Gabe.”
He bolted forward, tearing out of her grasp. “No!” No way was he taking any chances with her. She was still too fragile, too afraid for that. She needed time to recover. To learn to trust men again.
Willa was quiet behind him. Too quiet. Cautiously, he looked over his shoulder at her. And swore. Tears were sliding down her cheeks silently as she stared down at her toes. She looked like a little kid who’d just had her puppy stolen.
He swore aloud as he turned and swept her into his arms. “It’s not you, baby. I swear. Believe me, you’re just about the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. But it’s too soon.”
She made an impatient sound and shock exploded across his brain. It wasn’t too soon for her? Then that must mean...damn...was it too soon for him?
Chapter 7
Willa tossed and turned in her bed, so frustrated she could scream. No matter what she’d tried last night, Gabe Dawson flatly refused to kiss her. He kept spouting some drivel about her needing time to learn to trust men again.
Frankly, she expected she would never trust most men. But she did trust him. He’d charged to her rescue three times now. First at the police station when the media mobbed her, then again at the press conference when the reporters had overwhelmed her and most of all, last night.
He’d risked his life to confront a potentially deadly intruder in her house, for goodness’ sake. Jerks didn’t do heroic stuff like that just to get in some girl’s pants.
She punched her pillow, but it was hopelessly bunched and hot beneath her cheek. It figured. The first time she was truly attracted to a man in recent memory, he refused to lay a hand on her, let alone kiss her. After James had beat her up, she’d found herself craving someone to touch her gently. Respectfully. Okay, maybe not so respectfully, but definitely intimately.
At least Gabe didn’t think she was a complete troll. Memory of his entirely obvious physical reaction to her last night under his cotton pajama bottoms made her smile in momentary triumph. Temptation to go to him, to cajole and tease him until he couldn’t resist her washed over her.
She really shouldn’t. It would create a horrible scandal if she dated her dead father’s mortal enemy. Not to mention all the divorcées of Vengeance that Gabe had spurned over the years would be out for her blood if she landed him.
But darned if he wasn’t everything she’d ever dreamed of in a man. Truth be told, she’d spent most of her teen years, and an embarrassing portion of the years to follow, idly dreaming of him. He’d figured prominently in most of her first sexual fantasies. She’d literally dreamed about him more times than she could count. Hot, explicit dreams where he did all the naughty, forbidden things to her that nice girls weren’t supposed to think about or even know about.
She had no doubt he was adventurous enough and confident enough as a lover to fulfill all of those fantasies, and maybe cook up a few that hadn’t occurred to her, yet. After all, he wasn’t some inexperienced college boy who would fumble his way through the rudiments of sex. If even a tenth of his reputation was rightfully earned, he was an extraordinary lover.
Oh, she’d blushed and pretended not to listen over the years as his various female conquests had kissed and told. But as furious as they’d all been at his unwillingness to marry them, they’d all purred with satisfaction over Gabe Dawson in the bedroom.
Her body humming with need until her nerves jangled, she glanced at her alarm clock. Barely 8:00 a.m. But she couldn’t stay in bed one second more. Not without her hands wandering over her body, stirring up even more frustrated fantasies of the man dozing on her living-room sofa. He’d insisted on guarding her through the night, and he’d been equally adamant that he was not going to share her bed.
It had been sweet, really. He’d confessed wryly that a whole squad of intruders could stomp through her house and he would never notice them if he spent the night in the same room with her. Yes, indeed. A little teasing and seduction of the man was just what the doctor ordered.
To that end, she got out of bed and pulled on her shortest shorts, rolled down the elastic waistband below her navel and chose a cropped T-shirt that she usually wore over a tank top. Feeling daring, she skipped both tank top and bra.
She felt a moment’s doubt when she checked herself in the mirror, though. The short T-shirt barely covered the lower swell of her breasts. And she never showed this much stomach. At least hers was tanned and toned after a long summer spent in her parents’ swimming pool. She brushed her hair until it gleamed over her shoulders and threw on just a touch of mascara and clear lip gloss.
Amused at the notion of putting on makeup to cook breakfast, she opened her bedroom door quietly and peeked down the hall. No movement. She tiptoed to the living room and spent far too long staring down at Gabe sprawled on her couch.
My, my, my, he was pretty. His hair was dark and tousled against his strong features. His face was an intriguing mixture of rugged and refined—too chiseled to be called pretty, but too elegant to be called rough. Relaxed in sleep, he looked younger. Almost boyish. And so yummy, she could just eat him up.
Acres of muscular chest sprinkled with dark hair drew her gaze, and his legs were powerful beneath his pajama bottoms. Startled at her lack of fear of his obvious sexuality, her mind wasted no time running wild, conjuring possible ways to wake him up. They mostly involved getting naked and pressing herself against his incredible body.
“Like what you see?”
She jumped about a foot in the air at Gabe’s husky voice. He’d caught her staring at him like he was her very own ooey, gooey sexual treat.
Fiery heat exploded in her cheeks as she mumbled, “Uhh, yes, actually.” Some suave seduction she was off to. She sounded like a bumbling teenager. “Umm, hungry?” she managed to choke out.
“You cooking?” he replied lazily.
Her gaze snapped up to his face at the sexy timbre in his voice. His gaze was sliding down her body with excruciating thoroughness, taking in her skimpy outfit and the assets revealed with laser precision.
That was more like it. “What’s your pleasure?” she murmured.
It was his turn for his gaze to snap up to hers.
“Eggs? Pancakes? Steak?” she suggested, a smile hovering at the corners of her mouth.
“All of the above.”
“If you want to jump into the shower, go ahead,” she suggested. “I’ll go have a look in the kitchen and see what I can come up with.”
“How about I pop back over to my place to shower? I can grab some clothes that way.”
She let her gaze slide down his body and back up. Whoa. He was already wide-awake in more ways than one this morning. “I rather like what you’re wearing now.”
“Vixen,” he muttered, heading for her front door. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Call if anything happens and you need me between now and then.”
Oh, she needed him, all right. The smoky green of his eyes announced that he’d gotten that message loud and clear. But frustratingly, he still seemed determined to do nothing about it. The door closed behind him, and suddenly, her house felt horribly empty. Or maybe it was her who felt his absence so keenly. Yikes. She had it bad for him.
She headed ruefully for the kitchen. She’d always had a thing for Gabe Dawson but had never imagined there was a chance in heck of anything coming of it. Maybe there still wasn’t any chance. Maybe she was an idiot to throw herself at him like this. The poor man was just trying to do a decent thing, to keep her safe, and here she was making a complete fool of herself over him.
But if she’d learned nothing else from her father’s death, it was that life was too short to waste not going for the things she wanted. How did that saying go? In th
e end, you don’t regret the things you did in life; you regret the things you didn’t do. If she didn’t try for Gabe, she would regret it for the rest of her life. If he rejected her overtures, so be it. But maybe, just maybe, he’d take her up on her offer.
She kept the conversation light over breakfast and listened with interest as Gabe described some of his more exotic travels over the past few years. But as the meal ended, he pushed his plate back and took control of the conversation.
“What are your plans for today, Madame Senator?”
“I thought I’d add more locks to my doors and windows, maybe invest in a trained attack dog. Is Cujo for sale, do you suppose?” On a more serious note, she added, “Oh, and I’ve got a charity thing tonight.”
“What charity thing?”
“Vengeance Ladies’ Auxiliary Annual Ball and Auction. Raises money for some scholarship fund or other.”
Gabe made a face. She privately shared the sentiment, but habit prevented her from agreeing aloud. She was all for helping charities, but sending the child of an already wealthy auxiliary member to college tuition-free wasn’t exactly her idea of a worthy cause. She would feel better if the money went to a homeless shelter or battered women’s support group. She knew firsthand just how hurt and confused and terrified women could feel after being attacked by a man they’d trusted.
“I guess I’ll have to dust off my tuxedo, then.” Gabe sighed.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m going with you.”
Her jaw dropped. Gabe Dawson never showed up at these local charity affairs. He was infamous for his steadfast refusal to participate in the Vengeance social scene. The charity-minded ladies of the auxiliary would dearly love to get their claws into his billions...not only for their pet charities, but also for themselves.
“Why would you subject yourself to such a thing?” she asked, flabbergasted.
“If you think I’m letting you out of my sight any time soon, you’re sadly mistaken, Miss Merris.”
“But the break-ins only happen at night. You must need to rest after all the excitement last night. And you do have a life of your own. A company to run. I’ll be fine.”
“You’re not fine,” he disagreed. He didn’t raise his voice or sound in any way angry, but he made it clear he wasn’t standing for any arguments. Her father could be stubborn the same way. She’d never bothered to fight with him, but she tried with Gabe, anyway. “Aren’t you worried about what people will say if you finally show up at one of these events? They’re going to expect you to donate a lot of money to their cause.”
He shrugged. “I don’t care what anyone says, and I’ll give my money to whomever I please. Though their little scholarship fund for one of their own isn’t high on my list of worthwhile charities.”
“You have a list?” she asked in surprise.
He looked abruptly uncomfortable. “Yes, actually.”
She planted her elbows on the table, fascinated. Gabe Dawson did charity work? “Do tell.”
“I support a women and children’s shelter in Dallas. And I fund a food bank for senior citizens. It’s also a pet food bank so the elderly won’t feed their pets their own food and go hungry themselves. Oh, and I built the Vengeance library building.”
That raised her brows. The anonymous donor was widely thought to have been her father, and John Merris had let people make the assumption without correcting them.
“Why a library?” she asked curiously.
“Books gave me an escape from the bad times in my life. And they showed me there was a big, wide world out there waiting to be experienced.” He shrugged. “They taught me to dream bigger than Vengeance.”
Huh. Who’d have guessed Gabe Dawson was a closet bookworm?
He continued, “Of course, I build schools in every place Dawson Exploration drills in for oil. They’re pretty well publicized, though. My company’s PR people have a field day with those projects.”
“Why schools?”
“I figure if we’re removing one natural resource from an area, we should replace it with a more valuable one. And what’s more valuable than education?”
“Hey, I’m a teacher. You’re singing to the choir.”
“And then I own an elephant sanctuary.”
“Elephants?” she exclaimed.
“We rescue them from zoos and circuses, mostly. And give elderly elephants somewhere to retire in peace. We help them form family bonds. For many of them, it’s the first time they’ve ever been with another elephant. Did you know they make friends with each other and are inseparable from their BFFs?”
Willa studied Gabe’s face with interest. He was animated and happy when talking about the elephants and books and his schools. The guy truly cared about his various causes. This wasn’t the coldhearted shark she’d grown up hearing vilified by everyone in Vengeance.
“Since when did you become such an avid philanthropist?” she asked.
“It takes having money to give it away. Melinda got me started, I suppose. Even before I made my first million, she was railing at me to give back to society.”
“She railed at you?”
He smiled wryly. “On a good day. On the bad days, I’d describe it as simple screaming.”
“Is that what broke up your marriage?”
He frowned. “It was a combination of things. I was traveling so much, and she was so involved with building her career. I’d like to say we grew apart, but I don’t honestly think we ever had all that much in common to begin with. She’s a hardcore feminist, and I’m...not.”
Willa reared back in mock horror. “You’re not one of those ‘women belong barefoot and in the kitchen’ types, are you?”
He grinned. “I like my women naked and in the bedroom, thanks.”
Her cheeks heated up, but she pressed the point. “What do you mean, you’re not a feminist?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I think women should get equal pay for equal work, and with a few exceptions for jobs requiring heavy physical labor, I think women can do just about everything men can, and just as well.”
“But?”
He sighed. “But, Melinda thought she should be in control of our marriage, and I happen to think the man should have a say at home. Or at least have equality.”
“Women should cook and clean and men should drink beer and watch sports?”
He laughed. “Not at all. I cook very well, thank you. And I can do my own laundry and scrub a toilet if it comes to it.”
She scoffed. “When’s the last time you scrubbed a toilet?”
He shot her a chagrined smile. “Not since my bank account topped a billion. Still, I stand by the point I’m trying to make. Melinda wanted to make all the financial decisions, even though I was the one with business experience and decent money sense. She wanted to schedule all our free time to support her career and never mine.” As Willa opened her mouth to protest that women should be part of those decisions in a marriage, Gabe waved a hand to stop her so he could add, “And she wanted to be in charge in the bedroom.”
Ahh. Willa could see where a man like Gabe might balk at that. He was definitely a take-charge sort. She’d never even kissed the guy, and she could tell he would want to call the shots in bed. Personally, the notion made her feel fluttery and a little weak in the knees.
“What time does the rubber backstabbing and blood-letting begin tonight?” he asked with certain resignation.
“Seven.”
“I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.” She frowned, confused, and he clarified. “They won’t serve dinner until at least eight, and I can only take so much judgment and condemnation before they get on my nerves.”
“No one will—”
He cut her off gently. “Mark my words. Tonight will be a nightmare.”
Not if she had anything to say about it.
“I do have one request, though.”
She looked up sharply at the serious tone in his voice. “What’s that?”
�
�Wear something people will notice you in.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Don’t want me to ruin your reputation for dating hot chicks, huh?”
“Not at all. I could never stand seeing you in the back of your father’s campaign ads looking like a mouse and blending in with the wallpaper. You’re a beautiful, sexy woman, and you’re Senator Merris now. It’s time for people to notice you.”
Wow. That was really perceptive of him. Her father had always demanded that she and her mother dress ultraconservatively, and in colors and styles that wouldn’t call attention to themselves. She had more beige, boring dresses than she cared to count. Maybe this afternoon she’d burn them all.
And maybe this afternoon she should go shopping for the sexiest dress she could find, and spend the rest of the day making herself irresistibly gorgeous for this man who actually seemed to see her.
To that end, she stood her ground and insisted he go home to catch a nap and get a little work done. As soon as his SUV turned the corner and disappeared from sight, she headed for her own car and drove back to Dallas. She made a beeline for Nieman Marcus and its amazing personal shoppers. She’d never even looked for the sort of gown she had in mind for tonight and wanted to get it just right.
Sure enough, a lovely woman named Chloe found her the perfect dress, sexy but classy, and entirely grown-up. Willa was sick and tired of being John Merris’s quiet, conservative, proper daughter who never drew attention to herself. For once, she wanted to draw a whole lot of attention to herself. At least from one man in particular.
As Willa stood in front of her bathroom mirror, carefully applying her makeup, she felt like Cinderella transforming into a princess for a night. Although the rollers all over her head did look rather silly. She always wore her hair up in a bun or pulled back in a low ponytail, but not tonight. She was turning over a new leaf. Willa Merris was coming out of her father’s shadow for Gabe.
Her courage faltered momentarily when she put on the gown. Its sweep of copper satin down her body in a formfitting drape was more revealing than she remembered from the store. The dress’s boatneck swept across her collarbones, but then swooped down her back, baring her spine—almost all the way down to her buttocks.
