Cold Touch (19 page)

she’d suggested it last night. Yes, she needed someone to give her a ride

home from the coroner’s office, because she wouldn’t be able to drive

afterward. If today were like every other time, she’d be in a bad way, needing

to curl up in a dark room, cry for a while, then sleep off the horror. She’d

intended to take a cab, but he had insisted on driving her.

Problem was, she had this brunch, and the timing was tight. They had to be

at the coroner’s at noon, yet she couldn’t bow out of this gathering, not just

because it was for Brooke but because Richard would feel slighted. Her

cousin was rarely in Georgia, spending most of his time in D.C., so the August

recess was usual y fil ed with Richard-centric events.
Yippee
.

When Gabe had found out she had an engagement she couldn’t avoid that

would make it impossible for her to get home in time for him to pick her up

there, he’d agreed to come with her to her father’s estate just outside of

Savannah. Having him come as her guest was a lot easier than trying to

explain why she’d needed a cop to drive her when she left here.

The thing was, she hadn’t had a date in a long time. And she hadn’t brought

a man around her family for at least two years. So what had sounded like a

good idea last night after a glass of wine seemed crazy today, not least of

which because, for a few minutes last night, she’d found it al too easy to think

about being involved in some kind of personal relationship with the man.

Especial y when he looked at her with that slight smile, laughed that sexy,

husky laugh, drawled her name in that honey-smooth Southern voice or

brushed up against her with that wickedly powerful body.

God, what was happening to her? She was rapidly growing addicted to a

man she’d met less than a week ago. The simple truth was, she wanted him.

Wanted to be in his arms.

Last night he’d held her for comfort, and that had been nice. But he’d

continued to hold her in response to sudden, thick sexual tension and, for a

little while at least, that had been nicer.

He’d let her go out of necessity. That hadn’t been nice at al . In fact, it had

left her wondering later that night when she was alone in her bed what might

have happened if she hadn’t climbed off his lap.

Olivia didn’t usual y fal hard and fast, having been burned by enough men to

be wary of ever letting her guard down around one too soon. Yet this rough-

edged detective already had her wishing this were a real date. Preferably

their fourth or fifth date, so it could end with them in her bedroom.

Admit it, you already want to go to bed with this man, whether you ever go

on a real date with him or not.

It was true. And no matter how much of a proper Southern lady her

grandmother had hoped she’d be, she couldn’t muster up much

embarrassment about that fact. Olivia was a woman, she liked sex, and she

was incredibly attracted to the man standing next to her. What else was there

to say?

“Everybody’s okay with us having to cut out early?” he asked.

“So they say.” Olivia had told them she and Gabe had to leave early for

another event.

“Good.” He gazed around the living room, where everyone had gathered to

socialize after the sumptuous buffet in the dining room. “Nice place your dad

has.”

“I guess.” Her father’s live-in girlfriend had recently redecorated the entire

downstairs. The minute her mother had walked into the house, she’d sneered,

disdainful of the beachy theme, with the pale blue wal s and lightweight sand-

colored wicker furniture.

Personal y, Olivia agreed with her. The place looked like it wanted to be a

Hol ister store. Then again, the girlfriend was nicknamed Sunni, so maybe it

was appropriate.

The nickname irritated her mother to no end. The fact that her mother had

been the one to hire Sunni as a live-in housekeeper and au pair many years

ago made the situation even worse. Mom had never quite come to terms with

the fact that the young woman she’d liked and welcomed into her home had

ended up replacing her after she’d left. “I don’t know why he holds on to it,” she

admitted. The tiny pessimist inside her suspected it was because he knew it

drove her mother crazy that another woman was playing hostess in her old

house. But the much bigger optimist said it was because he stil held out

some hope, deep within, that this whole awful situation could be fixed, and he

could reclaim the life he’d once had here with his family.

She sometimes wondered how Sunni felt about it. The woman was either

truly the sunniest-dispositioned person in the world, or she was one heck of

an actress. Because despite an occasional edge to her tone and hardness in

her eyes, for the most part, she always maintained that smile, acting like she

real y didn’t care that her longtime boyfriend refused to divorce his wife and

marry her. But Sunni had to know El iott Wainwright wel enough to know that if

she pushed him to do it, he never—ever—would. Her father was a stubborn

one. So she seemed patient enough to wait, content with the house, the cars,

the jewelry and the lifestyle.

“Did you grow up here?”

“Uh-huh.”

He sipped his drink—a virgin mary—then asked, “And, uh, your parents?”

“No, they’re not divorced, and, yes, they’re always like this.”

“That’s a little . . .”

“Dysfunctional?”

“I was gonna say ‘unusual.’ But that works, too.”

“Neither wants to be accused of being the one responsible for ending the

marriage.”

He gave a pointed look at Sunni, who clung to Olivia’s father’s arm, and

then at Carl, a tal , balding man hovering over her petite mother like a

kindergartner guarding his juice box.

“Yeah. I know.” Sipping her club soda and cranberry, she added, “It’s ended

in every way except on paper. Everything just sort of fel apart after what

happened to me.”

“It’s a shame, but that happens in a lot of kidnapping or child murder cases.

It’s a marriage kil er.” He edged closer, just the tiniest bit, but enough for her to

feel his body’s warmth against her arm, bared by her sleeveless top. Her heart

fluttered a little, startling her. She suddenly remembered her dream from last

night, surprised she hadn’t recal ed it when she first woke up. Probably she’d

just been glad there were no night terrors.

Definitely nothing terrifying. Something rather lovely instead. She’d

dreamed about going to sleep in Gabe Cooper’s arms, in the chair in the den,

as if he’d never let her go after he’d pul ed her onto his lap. It had been a nice

dream, not at al sexual but incredibly intimate. Just like that actual moment

had been.

“So, do you think it was real y your kidnapping that caused them to break

up, or was that the excuse?”

She blinked, trying to refocus. “It was a catalyst. Things were already tense

because she didn’t like the way they lived. She was uncomfortable with the

Wainwright family’s never-ending quest for more money, and she loathed the

politics. She was a front desk clerk at one of my father’s hotels when they

met.”

Her father’s family had made their fortune off the high-end travel industry. It

seemed the überrich stil traveled a lot, even in a down economy, and

business was booming. As far as she knew, there was enough money to keep

several generations of Wainwrights comfortable.

Except her. She real y didn’t want anything to do with it, having enough of

her mother’s independent spirit to demand to go her own way. She’d gotten

the house, and that was enough.

“My grandfather had died that March, and the governor wanted to appoint

my father to his seat to finish his term. My mom hated the idea. Then I was

kidnapped, and she
really
hated it.”

“Why?”

“She thought it would make us more of a target.” Glancing out the windows,

she gestured toward a black limo parked by the detached garage on the other

side of the lawn. Two large, black-clad men stood there, one leaning on the

car, the other against the building. “Despite how my cousin lives, Mom had no

interest in drivers and bodyguards. She wanted a normal life.”

“Hate to break it to ya, but this place ain’t exactly middle class.”

“No kidding. That’s why she took Brooke and me to Tucson and told my

Dad if he wanted to stay married to her, he’d turn the governor down and

come join us.”

“And?”

“Wel , he did turn the governor down,” she said. “It wasn’t a huge sacrifice.

Dad had never wanted to go into politics; he liked running the business. His

older brother was the political genius, but he died fifteen years ago. So when

the time came, Dad deferred to Richard, my late uncle’s son, who was an

attorney, already a state representative, and who wanted the job.”

Gabe glanced at her cousin. “Musta been pretty young.”

“Only thirty. He just squeaked by on the age requirement. Crisis averted:

God forbid there not be a Wainwright in Congress.”

“Lemme guess. Your dad didn’t go to Tucson, right?”

She shook her head. “Nope. Too proud, I think. And Sunni, our housekeeper

and former babysitter, stayed here to take care of him.”

“Guess she did the job a little too wel .”

“You could say that.”

“Yet you stil get along with her?”

Olivia shrugged. “I’ve known her since I was a kid. At first I felt a little

betrayed. But Mom
was
the one who left. She practical y issued an invitation to

Sunni to take her place.”

“Your Dad was probably pretty lonely and vulnerable without you al .”

“Exactly, and Sunni was here to keep him company. Time passed; neither of

my parents would make the first move either to get back together or to end it

for good. He stayed here, she stayed there, until Brooke and I moved back

after col ege. Then she came back, too, with Carl in tow.”

Gabe nodded, looking thoughtful, glancing again toward her parents, who

stood with their significant others in a far corner of the room, examining some

piece of brightly colored art Sunni had bought. Olivia felt sure her mother

hated it on principle.

“That’s pretty sad, actual y,” he mused.

Yes, it was sad. How funny that he’d said that rather than cracking a joke or

pointing out how bizarre the whole thing was.
So much to like in this man.

As if knowing the subject pained her, he quickly moved on. He shot her that

grin, which took ten years off his face, made his green eyes sparkle and

made her heart thud. “Are your mother and Sunni going to wrestle over who

gets the mother-of-the-bride spot in the church?”

“Are you kidding? Mom would lock Sunni in a closet first.”

“Nice that they’re al so
friendly
. That’l be an interesting wedding.” His

sarcasm was obvious. The mood in here was not friendly; it was hard, edgy

and sharp as glass.

“I told Brooke she should elope.” Then she laughed. “I should have told her

to run.”

“You’re against marriage?”

“Just the being married part.”
Especially to a man like Drew
.

“I guess I can see why.”

Maybe. But he didn’t know al of it. It wasn’t just because of her parents’

situation or her dislike of the groom. She’d seen women murdered by their

husbands—literal y. Feeling what an abused woman had felt while her

husband stabbed her, screaming with every plunge of the knife that she’d

promised to love and obey him, she couldn’t say much for the whole institution.

Suddenly, a voice intruded. “So, Gabe, I hear you’re with the police

department? Good for you, young man. We appreciate your public service.”

Good lord, could her cousin Richard be any more of a dick? Not only was

he incredibly patronizing, being only a dozen or so years older than Gabe, but

he was just such a damned politician. He was always on, always glad-handing

for votes, even at a family gathering.

“Thank you, Senator,” Gabe said smoothly, not thrown by the

condescending greeting any more than he’d been thrown by her father’s

questions about where he lived, her mother’s about his past relationships, or

her sister’s about his plans for Valentine’s Day. Her wedding day.

“How did you two meet?” asked Richard’s wife, Tess, with that smal ,

pasted-on smile she always wore. With the perfect hair and perfect face, she

was the perfect politician’s wife. “Did you pul her over for speeding? Our

Olivia has an awful lead foot.”

Our Olivia
. Cheers to the second-most patronizing person in the room.

As if he could feel her rising tension, Gabe reached over and pressed a

slightly possessive hand to the smal of her back. It was a simple, casual

gesture, but it rocked her hard. She almost found herself quivering, sensation