A Billionaire's Redemption (11 page)

Complicated ones. That might or might not include romantic feelings like love and desire to reunite. He’d neatly avoided talking about those in his outburst.

“What do the police know about her kidnapping?”

“Shockingly little. Her housekeeper arrived one morning, and Melinda was just gone. There were no signs of a struggle in her house or office. Her car was still parked in the garage, her keys and briefcase and laptop sitting on the kitchen counter. Her syllabus and lecture notes for the semester were on her desk.”

Willa shuddered. It sounded a lot like her father’s murder—a life interrupted completely without warning.

Gabe continued, “The only unusual thing the police found was a grocery list in Melinda’s handwriting. It stopped in the middle of a word. Maybe the phone rang or someone came to the door, or someone snuck up on her from behind and grabbed her. It’s a mystery.”

“And there were no witnesses or anyone with any more information?” she asked.

“No one legitimate has come forward in spite of the hundred-thousand-dollar reward I put up, and there have been no ransom demands.”

“Is there a chance—” Willa broke off. “No, never mind.”

“Go ahead. Say it.”

Willa winced. “Is there a chance she was murdered, too? She did disappear right about the same time my father and those other men were killed.”

Gabe went very still. “I would be lying if I said it wasn’t possible. But I can’t think that way.” His voice gathered force. “I won’t think that way. She’s alive. I’m standing by that until I have positive proof to the contrary.”

Willa felt like he’d just stuck a knife in her gut. He did still love his ex-wife. But she couldn’t exactly blame him for revealing it. After all, she was the one who’d brought up the subject of Melinda’s possible murder. And in all fairness, if she’d been kidnapped and was alone and terrified, she’d be desperate for her family and friends to continue fighting to find her, to continue believing she was alive, to continue their efforts to rescue her.

“Is there anything I can do to help find her?” Willa asked soberly.

Gabe looked over at her in genuine surprise. “No, but thanks for the offer. That’s kind of you.”

Willa frowned. “You say that like you thought I was wishing Melinda would turn up dead.”

His answer was surprisingly bitter. “Let’s just say neither she nor I were ever embraced by the scions of Southern society in this corner of the world.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

They were stopped at a red light, and Gabe stared across the vehicle at her in open shock. “You do realize that you are as blue-blooded an insider to the halls of old-school power in Texas as they come, don’t you?”

She blinked at him, uncomprehending.

“You’re the daughter of one of the richest and most powerful men in Texas for the past thirty years or so. And you’re beautiful and single, to boot. There have to have been young men falling all over themselves to marry you since you got out of school.”

“If there have, they’ve been invisible,” she retorted. Not for lack of her father constantly throwing her at every son of some powerful, old-money family or another from Dallas. It was just that none of the boys had ever called back. It was as if they’d taken her out as a favor to her father. But once they’d met her, they’d moved on quickly to greener pastures. Heck, her father had set up the date with James Ward.

The light turned green, and Gabe accelerated before demanding, “Tell me you’re lying.”

“I’m serious, Gabe. My social life has hovered between life support and dead pretty much forever.”

“That’s not possible,” he announced. “A woman as beautiful and intelligent and charming as you?”

How embarrassing was this, having to confess that no one had ever wanted to date the shy, awkward daughter of a scary man? “It’s not like I’ve ever run around looking like this before. And after the reaction I got tonight, I’m not going to try it again any time soon.”

Her own mother had called her a whore and a slut, for goodness’ sake. Tears welled up in her eyes to recall it. She’d thought this dress was beautiful, and for once in her life, she’d felt pretty. And the way Gabe’s eyes had lit up when she’d opened the front door—she’d thought that maybe he’d found her pretty, too.

Speaking of Gabe, she risked a sideways glance at him. His jaw was set, and if she wasn’t mistaken, muscles in his neck were tensed in irritation. Was he mad she wasn’t the social catch he’d thought she was? Had he expected that with her on his arm, people wouldn’t treat him like dirt for once? She sincerely wished she’d been able to give him the social acceptability he seemed to crave beneath his I-don’t-care attitude. But instead of lifting him up, apparently, she’d succeeded in dragging them both down.

How could a simple charity ball have gone so horribly wrong?

The Escalade turned into a driveway she didn’t recognize. It led to a garage behind a small craftsman bungalow near Darby College. “Is this your place?” she asked. She’d known his childhood home was somewhere in this neighborhood, but she’d never seen it before.

“Yup.” He got out of the Cadillac and came around to open her door for her in grim silence. Grim enough that she decided not to ask just now why he’d brought her here. She followed him up the wide steps to a gracious porch and waited while he unlocked the front door.

“Don’t call the place cute,” he growled as he stepped inside. “I despise cute.”

She stepped into a living room as masculine as any room she’d ever seen. Flagstone floors, cedar paneling, oversize leather furniture and a massive fieldstone fireplace dominated the space. “There’s nothing remotely cute about this room,” she assured him. “I’d call it rustic or comfortable or perfect for its owner. Or I might even say that Ralph Lauren would approve. But I would not call it cute.”

He grunted in what she thought might be thanks as he moved swiftly through the room and disappeared down a hall. At a loss, she waited inside the front door, unsure of what to do with herself. Lights went on in other parts of the house.

“We’re alone,” he announced as he swept back into the room. As masculine as it was all by itself, the room seemed bigger, more alive, with him in it. It was as if he wore the space like a favorite pair of old blue jeans. He untied his bow tie and let it hang around his neck as he unbuttoned his collar. His neck was tanned and powerful, and yet again she was struck by how strong and forceful a man he was.

Every ounce of awkwardness and shyness she’d ever experienced flooded her as she stood there. She ought to say something sophisticated and smart, and all she could do was stare at him. God help her if she was drooling. If she’d ever thought she was woman enough to seduce Gabe Dawson, she knew, positively knew, in that instant that she was completely out of her league. She would never be woman enough for Gabe Dawson.

Chapter 9

T
he sight of Willa Merris in his living room, blushing like a nervous schoolgirl, brought Gabe to a complete halt. He could stand there and look at her all night long and never tire of the sight. She was the soul of innocence and oozed sex appeal all at the same time.

He’d never gone much for younger women, but he couldn’t ever remember desiring any woman the way he wanted her right now. He wanted to debauch her, to tease her and teach her, to take her innocence for himself and unleash all the simmering sensuality she didn’t even know she had within her.

If only he was a dozen years younger. He’d give anything to have her think of him as someone other than a safe uncle. This morning, when she’d sashayed out of her bedroom in that sassy little T-shirt and skimpy shorts, he’d thought maybe she was flirting with him. And then that backless dress...

But who was he kidding? At the moment, she looked on the verge of bursting into tears, or maybe bolting altogether. She might need reassurance that she was still desirable after Ward’s attack on her, but she didn’t want him, personally. Hell, for all he knew, Willa Merris was looking for a father figure. Lord knew her old man had failed her miserably in that department.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked her in resignation.

“Umm, why am I here?” she responded.

“So I can protect you from whoever seems determined to break in to wherever you’re staying?”

Shock registered on her face. Didn’t want to spend the night with him, huh? It might have been okay once, in Dallas, where no one would catch her and she had an entire suite to herself. But heaven forbid that she get caught with him in Vengeance. Had she honestly not known just how giant a pariah he was among her friends and associates?

He hated himself for wanting her to want him, and he hated himself for lying to her about why he’d brought her here. But hey. In for a penny, in for a pound. He added another lie on top of the first.

“Not to mention, Paula Craddock is gunning for you. She told me so herself. And after you sicced Jacquelyn Carver on her, she’s going to be madder than ever at you. I figure she’ll hang out at your house or your mother’s looking for you. If, for some reason, she comes sniffing around here, she and my shotgun have an appointment to get better acquainted.”

Willa’s musical laughter made him look up sharply from the whiskey he was pouring for himself. “Can I be there to see that?” she asked.

“Sure.”

“Promise?”

“Scout’s honor.” He poured her a glass of Licor 43, a Spanish liqueur that women told him tasted like chocolate-chip cookie dough. Personally, it was too sweet for him. But over the years, he’d dubbed it “Liquid Panty Remover.”

“Kick off your shoes if you want. Get comfortable.” He carried the drink to her, and enjoyed how her face lit up when she tasted it. She sank onto one of the matching leather sofas while he lit the fire already laid in the fireplace.

He spoke wryly over his shoulder as he fanned the fledgling flames. “I’d turn on some music, but I wouldn’t want you to think this was some cheesy seduction scene.”

“Of course not,” she answered quickly. Too quickly.

He sat down on the other end of the couch and studied her carefully. “I can’t read you. What are you thinking?”

Her cheeks went crimson. “Umm, nothing.”

“In my not inconsiderable experience with women, when they tell you nothing’s wrong, something’s always wrong. And they’re never thinking
nothing.
What’s up?”

Suddenly, his shoes appeared to interest her more than just about anything else in the world. Genuinely worried now, he reached out to tip up her chin with his finger. “Willa?”

“I can’t begin to thank you for all you’ve done for me. Goodness knows, you don’t owe me or my family anything. I truly am grateful.”

“But?”

“Is there a but?” she half whispered.

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“But I don’t expect all of this from you. You don’t have to seduce me as a pity case.”

“A pity case!” he exclaimed.

“It’s sweet of you to feel sorry for me, but I don’t expect you to fix me. It’s my responsibility to get over what James Ward did, and I’m not going to force that on anyone, certainly not on you after everything else you’ve already done for me.”

“Force— Willa, you’re not forcing anything on me, and certainly not yourself. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m quite a bit bigger and stronger than you. Not to mention, nobody has made me do anything I didn’t want to for a number of years now.”

She sagged beside him. She ought to be relieved by his declaration, but for some reason, she looked...crestfallen.

“Do you
want
me to seduce you?” Normally, he wouldn’t be so blunt with a woman. He knew the signals well enough to recognize if a woman wanted to sleep with him or not. The problem with Willa, though, was she was giving him mixed, and contradictory, signals.

She definitely was attracted to him. And when he’d seen that dress at her front door earlier, he’d been pretty damned sure she wanted to sleep with him. But then those women—and her own mother, the bitch—had shredded her, and it was as if he’d brought an entirely different woman home from the party than the one he’d taken. This one looked like a lost little girl. Or worse, like the robot from behind her father’s shoulder at campaign appearances.

“You haven’t answered my question,” he said to the side of her averted face.

“I can’t,” she said in a muffled voice.

“Why not? It’s okay to say you don’t know what you want, or not now, or hell, no. But please be honest with me.” Not that he had any business pointing fingers at anyone for being less than truthful. He wanted her in his bed so bad he could taste it.

“I can’t answer because—” she took a deep breath and continued in a small voice “—because if I said I did want you to seduce me, you’d do it to be a gentleman and not because you actually wanted to.”

He laughed heartily. “Honey, if I seduce you, it most certainly won’t be out of any sense of duty. And I don’t necessarily promise to be a gentleman about it.”

Her gaze snuck up to his for an instant before sliding away. She tossed back a large gulp of her liqueur and coughed as it burned a path down her throat. He reached over to pound her back until she could breathe again.

So. Willa Merris was interested, but too insecure to admit it. He could work with that. He could definitely work with that.

He plucked the empty glass out of her fingers and took it over to the bar to refill it. When he returned, he was pleased to see that she had kicked off her shoes. He passed her the drink and lifted her feet onto his thigh to massage them. In moments, she was making little moaning sounds of pleasure that just about drove him out of his mind.

“So, we’re agreed, then,” he said in a businesslike tone. “Seduction is the order of the day.”

Another gulp and another cough. But she conspicuously failed to disagree with him. The fire crackled, and its golden light painted Willa’s exquisite features with glistening fairy dust.

“You’ve got me at a disadvantage,” he murmured.

She looked up at him, her blue eyes big and wide and questioning.

“You’re arguably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, but if I tell you that, you’ll think it’s a cheesy pick-up line.”

“I wouldn’t believe you if you said it, anyway,” she answered lightly. “I’ve seen a bunch of the women you go out with. You have sophisticated taste. I’m not in that league at all.”

“That’s the point. You’re different. You’re...real.”

She laughed painfully. “A real mess.”

“Everyone’s got baggage. And most of yours isn’t of your making. For tonight, could you try to set it aside?”

“I’d love nothing better than to do that.” She sighed. “But I don’t know how.”

“You just need a distraction to take your mind off things.”

“Like what?”

Lord, she asked that so innocently. Like she truly didn’t know what he meant. An urge to be the one to show her what was possible between a man and a woman surged through him. “Dance with me.”

“What? Here?”

“I never got to dance with you at the ball. I owe you one.”

Smiling, she set her glass down and rose to her feet. He relished her slenderness as he drew her into his arms in front of the fireplace.

“Shouldn’t there be some music?” she asked. “Can’t you just tell the house to turn something on?”

He smiled down at her. “No computers here. This is my anti-technology hideaway.”

“This house is so different from your penthouse. And yet, it fits you as well as that place does. It’s like each one reflects a side of your personality.” She swayed lightly in his arms and he imagined what she would feel like wrapped around him.

“So, tell me, Gabe. Do you have any other houses that reflect some other part of you?”

“I have a beach house in Northern California. It’s all glass and stone. It’s about the ocean and the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks.”

“What part of you does it reflect?”

He gazed down at her candidly. “My wild and primal side that connects with nature.”

“I think I might like to see that place.”

Her face was turned up to his, and her lips glistened softly. She so wanted to be kissed. But did he dare? Once he started kissing her, he doubted his ability to stop. Thing was, he had no idea how traumatized she was nor how to proceed with finding out.

“Say the word, and I’ll take you there,” he murmured.

Her eyes widened, and he belatedly realized the double entendre implicit in his comment. “I’m sorry, Will. I don’t mean to come on so strong. I know you’re scared, and God knows I don’t want to make it worse. You’re going to have to tell me what you want and don’t want.”

“What are you talking about?” She was looking up at him like he’d grown a second head.

“The attack, of course. You flinch every time a man touches you, and every now and then you get this rabbit-about-to-get-eaten look in your eyes.”

She huffed in what sounded like displeasure. “But I’ve already told you, I’m not scared of you.”

Chagrin tore through him, hot and acid. Right. He was some old guy who posed no threat to her. A favorite uncle.
Damn
it. His arms fell away from her and she took an alarmed step forward and grabbed his lapels.

“What’s wrong? What did I say?” she cried out softly. “Crud. I’m so bad at this. I always mess this up. They always go away and never call again. I’m such a klutz—”

He cut her off. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Men. I’m no good at relationships. I’m a complete freak—”

“Stop.” He stared down at her in shock. “Willa. You’re so beautiful it hurts to look at you. You’re intelligent. Sweet. Interesting to talk to. And sexy. God, woman. You’re so hot I can barely think straight around you. If men are running away from you, it’s because they’re so intimidated by you. They don’t think they’re good enough for you. Hell, I don’t think I’m good enough for you.”

She stared at him blankly. Like she hadn’t heard a word he said. Or maybe like she heard but didn’t believe a word of it.

“I’m serious, Willa. You’re extraordinary. You keep saying I’m out of your league, but honey, it’s the other way around. I’m a cynical, selfish, forty-year-old oil man with enough money to buy sex, but with no real friends. I’m a hard-ass businessman most of the time, and a workaholic to boot.”

“Anything else?” she asked.

He glared at her obvious skepticism. “I’m serious.”

“Okay. But if you’ll forgive me for saying so, you left a few qualities off your list.”

“Like what?”

“You’re a gentleman at heart. You’ve rescued me more times than I can count. You’ve been decent to me when my family has been nothing but rotten to you over the years. You run a retirement home for elephants, for goodness’ sake. How many men can say that?”

Elephants? She was bringing those up now?

Her palms slid slowly up his lapels to grasp the ends of his bow tie. She tugged him close and he yielded reluctantly to the pressure.

“Gabe,” she whispered achingly, “I want you to make love to me, even if it is pity sex on your part. I know it’ll be a one-night stand. I have no illusions about how you operate. But I’ve wanted you ever since I can remember, and tonight, I just don’t care about anything else.”

He stared down at her in shock. “You’ve wanted me for how long?” he asked slowly.

“Since I was about sixteen,” she confessed, her cheeks starting to turn a dull red.

“But why?”

“C’mon, Gabe. You know how sexy a man you are. You know women crawl all over you not only for your money, but because you’re so attractive. And since when is forty old? You take great care of your health. And frankly, after women experience a few twenty-something guys with no clue what they’re doing, surely you can understand why women would much prefer a man who knows his way around a woman. You do know your way around a woman, don’t you?” she asked in quick dismay.

“Yes,” he answered drily. “I do.”

“Well, there you have it. You’re a hunk and a hot catch.
Now,
will you make love to me?”

He’d love nothing better. But he was still worried about her emotional scars. He’d never dealt with anything like that before. “Willa, are you sure you’re ready for this? Do you need more time to trust me?”

Her gaze narrowed in irritation. “I’m trying really hard to be brave and bold here. To get past...well, to get past my past. If you don’t quit asking me that, I’m going to have to tear your clothes off and have my wicked way with you. And to be honest, that notion scares me half to death. Besides, you’ve already said you like to be in charge in the bedroom.”

He laughed reluctantly. Although her tearing his clothes off didn’t sound half-bad. “Refill?” he asked her. Now that the moment was upon him, he had no idea how to proceed with her. Yet another first for him. He laughed ruefully. “You do manage to mess with my head, Will.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t apologize. It’s...interesting. You keep me on my toes.” He pressed a full glass into her hand and nudged the bottom of it toward her mouth.