A Billionaire's Redemption (9 page)

He turned on lights as he went, chasing away the shadows. Finally, when he was convinced the house was empty of bad guys, he headed for the locked bathroom door.

“Willa, it’s Gabe. The house is clear. You can come out now.”

The lock clicked and the door swung open fast. Willa flew out and straight into his arms. He staggered a little as he caught her weight up against him.

“Easy, baby. I’ve got you now. You’re safe.”

“Oh, God, Gabe. I heard them, and the police wouldn’t believe me. And then there was all that noise like they were ransacking my house, and I was so afraid they were going to kill me, and—” She burst into tears against his chest.

Which he realized abruptly was bare. Her tears were hot and wet against his skin. And he was wearing only a pair of thin, cotton pajama bottoms. Usually, he slept naked. And after that panicked phone call from her, he’d have raced over here in his birthday suit if he hadn’t happened to decide to watch a little TV after his shower, and happened to pull on the pajamas.

For her part, she was wearing a skimpy tank top thing that outlined every contour of her perky breasts and taut nipples against his chest. Her waist was narrow, and her hips and tush curved sweetly under his hand as he ran his palm up and down her back to assure himself she was whole and unharmed.

Her arms went around his neck and she all but choked him in her panic and relief. But he didn’t care one bit. No woman had clung to him like this in real need for as long as he could remember...no, not ever. And it made him feel ten feet tall.

He released her momentarily with one arm to set aside the shotgun, but then he was holding her again, offering her his strength and safety as she sobbed against his chest. Finally, her tears subsided into wobbly sniffs.

“Better?” he murmured into her fresh-smelling hair.

“What would I have done without you?” Her breath moved softly against his skin as she spoke. “You saved my life.”

“I don’t think it was as bad as all that. Only thing that jerk killed was your computer.”

Willa did a strange thing then. She lurched away from him, pressing her fingers against his lips urgently. He stared down at her, surprised. She pulled out of his arms and headed down the hall toward the living room. He followed, confused.

Wow. Those sassy little shorts showed the entire length of her long, sleek legs and the beginning swell of her tush to massive effect upon his lust. The girl should be a lingerie model with that kind of a body. Who’d have guessed she was put together like that under the boring church-lady suits she wore in her father’s campaign ads?

She paused in the doorway of her makeshift office to take in the damage. With her standing in profile to him in that way, he couldn’t help noticing the way that thin cotton tank top clung to her high, firm breasts. Oh, yeah. Lingerie model all the way.

She moved on to the living room. He watched, frowning, as she opened a drawer in a coffee table, reached inside, sighed audibly in relief and pulled out a small black box. It looked like an old-fashioned transistor radio. She poked at the buttons on the front of it, and then looked up at him with a tiny smile of triumph.

“There. Now we can talk,” she announced.

“What is that?”

“White-noise emitter. It blocks any bugs and causes only static to show up on hidden cameras.”

“And you have a white-noise emitter why?” he demanded, alarmed.

“My father’s phone is bugged. I figured whoever was watching me at the mansion would watch me here, too. I got this in case I needed to talk in private.”

He moved over to her side quickly. Dang, his protective instincts were on overdrive tonight. “You’re being bugged and surveilled? By whom?”

“I have no idea.” She stared up at him fearfully, her blue eyes dark and scared yet again. God, he hated seeing them like that.

“And you’re sure it’s you being watched and not just leftover crap from your father?”

“They broke in here and trashed
my
computer, didn’t they?”

He sank down beside her on the edge of the couch. “What the hell’s going on, Will?”

She took a deep breath and studied him for a minute. Seeming to make some sort of decision, she nodded to herself and began to speak. He listened in disbelief as she described finding a secret folder on her father’s computer dealing with a covert Congressional committee doing violent and illegal stuff. His jaw dropped as she described the intruder at the Merris mansion last night and the secret folder’s mysterious disappearance in the interim.

“So you think whoever broke into your father’s home and deleted or stole that file broke in here tonight, and took the hard drive out of your computer?” he asked as she finished her recitation.

“It seems logical, doesn’t it?”

“What the hell was your father involved in? What has the bastard dragged you into?”

“He didn’t drag me into anything. Governor Graham did that when he named me to my father’s job.”

Gabe shook his head. He’d known John Merris was dirty, but he had no idea how dirty. “What was in those files?”

“They were classified. I think I’m not supposed to tell you.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll let you shoot me if I tell anybody else. But we’ve got to figure out who and what you’re up against here, baby.”

The endearment slipped out before he even realized he was thinking it. He never called women “baby.” Not even in the heat of passion. He made a point of knowing his lovers’ names and using them when appropriate. If he’d have ever called Melinda “baby,” she’d have bitten his head off. She’d been nothing if not a raging feminist. So unlike the vulnerable and sexy woman shivering on the couch beside him.

“Come here, Willa.” He held out his arms to her and was immensely gratified when she crawled into his embrace of her own volition. He leaned back and she cuddled against his chest like a contented kitten. He felt more macho then he had in years. Which wasn’t exactly the kind of thing he usually thought about. But she was all woman and seemed to find him all man. It was a heady sensation.

“You’re so warm,” she murmured against his chest. Her lips moved against his skin as she spoke and his body reacted sharply. He swore mentally. His flimsy pajama bottoms weren’t going to leave a thing to the imagination pretty soon.

Desperate to think about something other than steamy, hot sex with this bombshell, he asked, “Do you think the intruders are operatives from this secret senate committee?”

She nodded, her hair sliding silkily against his skin. Lord, that was distracting! “Honey, if you don’t stop wiggling, I’m going to embarrass us both. And I know you’re a bit...sensitive...about such things right now.”

“Oh.” A pause as his meaning obviously sunk in. “Oh!” Damned if she didn’t settle more firmly against his chest and throw her arm around his waist. “I’m not scared with you here,” she whispered.

He about jumped out of his skin as she actually pressed her lips against his sternum, just below his collarbones. Crap. No, not crap. Good that she wasn’t terrified of touching a man. But he mustn’t think about sex. She felt safe with him? That was progress, right? His brain leaped from thought to thought, disjointed and...oh, God. So horny. Must control himself.
Not gonna happen, buddy.

“Willa. This isn’t going to work. I mean, I do want to comfort you. I’m glad to hold you. But neither one of us is wearing a lot of clothes, and umm...well, hell. You’re incredibly sexy and attractive.”

Her hand around his waist moved up his chest and curled around his neck, her fingers playing seductively in the short hairs at the back of his neck.

“Gabe. Look at me.”

He stared down at her in distress. He wanted to make love to her right now just about worse than he wanted to breathe.

“I’m not scared of you.”

Was she inviting him to... Oh, holy God. No way. He was not going to fall on her like some sex-starved beast. Like James Ward.

“Yeah, well,” he retorted gruffly, “I’m scared of me.” He squirmed out from under her and surged to his feet. He turned his back fast to hide his arousal from her. No matter what she said, he wasn’t going to chance scaring her off men for good.

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

W
illa 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 the 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.