Solid Gold Seduction (The Drakes of California) (3 page)

Chapter 5

W
arren parked his car next to Jackson’s truck. There were also a few cars he didn’t recognize.

Jackson looked up as he approached. “Must not have gone too bad.”

“It went all right.”

“No battle scars, head still intact, proof that she didn’t bite it off.”

Warren grinned. “She wanted to.”

Richard walked up, having heard the last exchange. “A hellion, that one. I sure would like to tame her.”

“You won’t have time for that,” Warren retorted, harsher than he’d intended. “I want this house finished as soon as possible, eight weeks tops. That includes the guest houses.” He turned to Jackson. “Still think we can meet that deadline?”

“For the right price, anything is possible. Especially in this economy. There are plenty of men looking for work and workers love nothing better than overtime pay.”

“I want you to get the size of crew you need to deliver within that time frame. Life will be easier if I’m living here during at least part of the harvesting of the first crop. Just run the numbers by me.”

Jackson nodded. “Will do.” He looked at Richard. “I left the roll of blueprints down by where the pool is going to be. Do you think you can go and bring it up for me?”

“Sure, man,” Richard responded. He gave Warren a quick, unreadable look, then turned and left.

Jackson watched after him, his eyes narrowed in thought. “What’s his story?”

“Richard is an old friend from New Orleans. Made some bad choices that landed him in prison. Our families are close—he became almost like a brother after my grandfather became his mentor. Practically lived at his home, became real close to my grandmother and later my mom. She talked me into helping him get a fresh start. Hard to land a job with a felony on your résumé.”

“What’d he do?”

“Sold drugs. Made a lot of money, too. I think the feds took most of it.”

“Easy come, easy go.”

“Exactly.”

“You trust him?”

Warren’s head shot up. “Yes. Why?”

“I don’t know. Something about his eyes.”

“Richard is always running game, but he’s cool overall.”

Jackson’s look showed he was not convinced. “You remember where I grew up, right? South Central L.A., where our playground was the streets. Brothers like him, who thought they were smarter, shrewder and more clever than the rest, were a dime a dozen and easy to spot. If I were you, I’d keep an eye out.”

Warren nodded. “Think you’ll have enough work to keep him busy?”

“I’ll have enough work to keep his mind off of that fine filly who’s got your nose wide open.”

“Charli’s easy on the eyes, I’ll give her that. Not my type, though. Too mannish, too much attitude. I like women who enjoy being women, know what I’m saying?”

“Sure, War. If you say so.”

“I say so,” Warren said firmly, then quickly changed the subject. “Where’s Diamond?”

“Probably buying up half of San Francisco. But I’d better get busy. She wants me to try out some swanky restaurant tonight. Our reservations are at eight and she threatened to hold out on the nooky if I’m late.”

“Then by all means...let me leave you to your work.”

Warren began walking toward the stables, noting that as Richard brought up the blueprints that Jackson wanted, he kept looking in the direction of Charli’s place.

You trust him? Something about his eyes.

He’d given Jackson ready answers but in hindsight the question gave him pause. True, he’d known Richard for years, but people could change. He’d heard of more than one man who’d come back from prison a different man. So far, Richard acted like his old self. Warren would be paying close attention to make sure he stayed that way.

Chapter 6

“M
iss Alice, I know you mean well, but—”

“No, no ifs, ands or buts, Charlene. I promised your grandfather that I’d watch over you, make sure you don’t get swallowed up by that ranch. You’re going to the dance.”

Charli jumped up from the comfy rocker in the living room and began to pace the hardwood floors. “Let’s do something else,” she suggested, switching the phone to her other ear. “Go into the city for shopping or lunch.”

“I’ve suggested that, remember? Two or three times. Hasn’t happened.”

“Next week, promise.”

“The dance. Tonight.” Amid Charli’s continued sulking, Alice continued, “How can you even think about not attending the Days of Paradise Ball? This is the one time of year that all of the residents get together, the one time that we celebrate the founding of our town.”

“I entered cattle in the farm animal contest.”

“All well and good, but the dance is the main event. You’ve got to come.”

“I don’t have anything to wear!” It was Charli’s long shot, banking on a short memory.

“Nonsense, you have that beautiful dress I ordered for you last month.” So much for that hope. Alice’s memory was fine. “You tried it on at my house, remember? It fit you perfectly.”

“Miss Alice, you know how I feel about these types of events, and the people who will be attending.”

“Yes, and it’s high time you change those feelings. You can try and deny it as much as you want to but this is where you belong. Your mother—”

“Is she the one behind all this?” Charli stopped in her tracks. “Will she be there?”

“Charlene, I know you and your mother have had your share of differences.” Charli let out an unladylike snort. “But she really does love you.”

“Oh, really? Is that why she abandoned me for her lover? Is that why I spent so much time with Grandpa Charles growing up?”

“Did you not like spending time with Charles?”

“You know I loved Gramps. That’s not the point.”

“I hope you can resolve these feelings of ill will, child. Pierre is now your stepfather.”

“That man will
never
be
anything
to me.”

“Your mother will not be there, Charlene.”

“I wish you’d call me Charli.”

“Charlene is a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. It’s that feminine side of you that gets far too little attention. I want you to let her out tonight. With me. At the dance.”

Charli sighed. “You’re just not going to quit bugging me, are you?”

“Sure I will. Just as soon as you get here. Say, around seven?”

“What time does the party start?”

“Nine. But you need time to get ready.”

“How long does it take to put on a dress?”

“We need our girl time. I have someone coming over for our hair and makeup. See you in about two hours?”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

* * *

Warren stood in the middle of his walk-in closet, staring at what he called his monkey suits and wishing for the umpteenth time that he hadn’t picked up the phone. He recalled the conversation.

“I had other plans for tonight, Mother.”

That those plans were a delivered pizza and early bedtime need not be shared.

“I reminded you about the table for ten we purchased two weeks ago,” his mother had countered. You promised you’d come.”

“I don’t remember.”

“You were on your way out the door. But you agreed.”

“Great.”

“The money made from the sale of tables is for a good cause. We’re going to build a combination food bank and donation center somewhere in town. Everyone goes to the Days of Paradise gala, Warren. Besides, you’ve been working too hard lately. And there’s a surprise.”

Oh, here we go.
“Who is she?”

He grimaced at his mother’s tinkling chuckle, grating because of what was sure to come next.

“Rachel’s home.”

“So now we get to the real reason for all this prodding.”

“Surprised you need it for such a beautiful girl, or rather, young woman. She’s even more stunning than when she left to finish her senior year. You’re almost thirty years old, Warren. Time to think about settling down.”

“Junior’s thirty-two. Go and bug him.”

“Oh, trust me, Ike Jr. gets his share of...encouragement. But right now I’m not talking to him. I’m talking to you.” Silence. “Rachel graduated with dual degrees in psychology and music theory.”

“She’s still playing the piano?”

“Beautifully, even participated in a concert at Carnegie Hall. Any man would be blessed to have her. She’s gorgeous, talented, comes from a great family with morals like ours.”

“And it doesn’t hurt that her father works for the leader of the free world.”

“I’d never want to be considered a social climber, but yes, her father’s prestigious position at the White House is a definite plus.”

“Which tux should I wear, black, navy or gray?”

“The black one, definitely. And it would be a nice touch, sweetheart, if you brought Rachel a little welcome-home gift. Nothing too frilly. A single rose, perhaps? Or a nice box of chocolates?”

“I’d rather not, Mother. I know how women think and to give her anything like that would be giving her the wrong idea.”

“You’re a kind, thoughtful man, no? What’s wrong about that?”

“Absolutely nothing. Which is why I’ll welcome Rachel home with a greeting and a smile.”

“Now, Warren—”

“Goodbye, Mother. See you at the dance.”

He finished dressing, splashed on cologne and headed for the door. A smile spread across his face as a thought occurred. He’d told his mother that he was coming to the dance. But he hadn’t told her how long he planned to stay. Not long. He felt better already.

Chapter 7

A
nybody entering the Paradise Cove Country Club would be hard-pressed to imagine it belonged to a community of less than three thousand. Every aspect of the building was magnificent, both inside and out, and everyone who entered the solid brass double doors looked as though they belonged. Limos vied with Maybachs and Bentleys and enough diamonds sparkled to rival the night’s starry sky.

“Warren!”

He turned around and smiled as the twins walked toward him. “Hello, Teresa.” He leaned down to give his sister a hug. “You look amazing.”

She curtsied. “Well, thank you, brother dear. You look dapper as well.”

“Terrell.” Warren and his brother shared a fist bump and a hug.

“Careful,” Terrell said, brushing nonexistent lint off each of his shoulders. “Don’t mess up the threads.”

“Trouble coming toward us,” Teresa mumbled, turning her head and twirling a curl.

Warren resisted looking, but Terrell turned around. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. CEO and the princess.”

Now he didn’t have to turn around. He knew who it was: Ms. Gold Digger, Ms. Social Climber. Ms. Will Do Anything to Marry a Drake. Niko had alluded to bringing someone respectable. Even though her stint as an exotic dancer had been very brief and in another state, Terrell knew that this was not the title his mom would give Ashley. She was going to be furious.

“Hello, family,” Niko said as he approached.

“Hello, Niko,” Warren said with a brother’s handshake. “Ashley,” he said with a nod.

“Hello, everyone,” Ashley responded.

“Where’s the rest of the family?” Niko asked.

“Inside,” Warren said, “and they’re probably wondering about us. Let’s go join them.”

The Drakes entered and the response they received resembled the Red Sea parting. Everyone turned and those in their path stepped back, offering hugs, greetings and compliments as they made their way to the table where their parents and remaining siblings either sat or stood chatting.

There was someone else there, too. Rachel.

“There you are!” Jennifer waved Warren over as soon as she saw him.

His mother was right. Rachel was stunning. She looked like a tanned porcelain doll—perfect and delicate—her hair designed in attractive ringlets, her beaded dress a perfect fit, her jewelry, which he knew cost a mint, elegant and understated. So why in this moment did his mind drift to a surly neighbor with dirty hands and scuffed boots?

“Hello, Rachel.” He leaned in to give her a light hug.

She wrapped her arms around his neck for a longer, more personal squeeze. “Warren,” she said, stepping back but continuing to hold his hand. “It is so great to see you. Now I really feel like I’m home.”

“Rachel has agreed to join the Golden Gates auxiliary and help with the plans to raise money for the center I told you about, and a variety of other charities.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“There are so many unfortunate people in this world,” Rachel stated, long, thick lashes surrounding the doe-like eyes that looked at Warren in a love-starved way. “It’s the least I can do.”

“You’ve always been such a caring soul, Rachel. I think that...” In a rare moment, Jennifer was distracted to the point that she lost her train of thought. “Who is that with Alice?” she asked, as if to herself.

Warren and Rachel followed the direction of Jennifer’s gaze.

“I’m not sure,” Rachel responded.

Warren said nothing. Couldn’t, he was speechless. Because he knew exactly who it was, and he couldn’t believe it.

* * *

Charli had one single goal for the night: get through it without falling flat on her butt. How women walked, even danced, in heels was beyond her. And panty hose? Geez. Now she had an idea how ground pork felt in casing. The makeup was foreign on her face; she had to constantly squelch the urge to rub it off. The only thing about Alice’s forced makeover that felt remotely comfortable was the hairstyle. She liked it up and away from her face. But she’d trade all the sparkly pins for a scrunchie in a New York minute.

“I’d like to think all of the gentlemen are looking this way because of my new ’do,” Alice said, patting her freshly cut silver bob. “But it’s clear who’s caught their eye.”

Charli wished it wasn’t. Being the center of attention wasn’t her forte unless the surrounding crowd came with four legs and a snout. “I wish they’d quit staring. It’s disconcerting.”

“By the look on some of the women’s faces,” Alice said, eyes gleaming, “you aren’t the only one unnerved. I see some of my friends, darling. Come.”

Halfway to their destination it happened again. She felt him. Strongly. Without a shadow of a doubt she knew that Warren Drake was here.
Keep walking, Charli. And don’t fall!

* * *

“Warren, are you listening?”

“Sorry, Rachel. What did you say?”

“Never mind. It’s clear your attention is elsewhere.”

“I’ve been following you mostly, and am impressed that you want to use your degree to, you know...”

“Follow weather patterns.”

“Right.”

“Wrong, Warren! You’re not listening at all.” Rachel’s normally placid face was in full pout. “You haven’t heard a word anyone has said since
she
walked in.”

“Who?”

“Do you know her?”

“Not really.”

“Well, now’s your chance.” She walked off in a huff.

Clearly, she was perturbed. With good reason. He was acting like a love-struck fool. “Rachel!”

She didn’t stop. He started to follow her, and then thought better of that idea.
Best to let her cool off
was his first thought.
Maybe I’ll get those flowers or chocolates after all,
his second. And his third? To make his way over to the reason for Rachel’s frustration. He turned to do so, took two steps and watched as Richard strolled up to Charli. He took her hand and raised it for a gentlemanly kiss. Always the suave one, that Richard, what with the flawless, smooth face, soft curly locks and bedroom eyes framed by girlishly long lashes. He’d been turning on the charm since grade school and at the beginning of college could pull any girl he wanted away from Warren’s once-clumsy clutches.

But Warren was no longer clumsy and this was not college. Lips set in a determined line, he once again prepared to cross the room. And stopped.
Wait a minute.
A scene played in his mind: him driving over to Charli’s house with news about the gate; Charli’s less than amicable response. All right, it had been downright chilly. His question about her snarly attitude. Her answer that she both knew about it and was not apologetic. She would probably rip Richard a new one in less than thirty ticks. Grinning, Warren took a glass of champagne from a floating waiter, became partially hidden as he leaned against the wall next to a large potted plant and prepared to watch the show.

It was not what he expected.

Where was that perpetual scowl she’d exhibited, the crossed arms and narrowed eyes? As Richard took her hand Charli smiled, actually
smiled.
Was it indeed possible for her to enjoy herself? This Warren would have doubted just one short day ago. But no, there it was: easy, impish and beautiful—straight white teeth and sparkling eyes. Richard said something to her. She tossed back her head in laughter, which brought Warren’s attention to that long, graceful neck, the one that had invaded his thoughts with more frequency than he’d desired, along with the things he wanted to do to said neck before moving on to other equally tantalizing body parts. He drank her much as he did the champagne and imagined she tasted the same: full-bodied, robust with hints of floral notes and spices. Amazing that this mesmerizingly pretty creature wrapped in silk was the same one he’d observed pulling weeds in tattered denim. Among this posh and polished crowd, she looked as though she belonged.
Just who are you, Charli Reed?

“Pulling recognizance?” Niko drawled as he sidled up to his preoccupied sib.

Warren forced his eyes away from Charli, actually turned his back on the way-too-cozy scene and answered his brother. “She’s my neighbor. Quite the sourpuss when I met her. I actually thought Richard was getting ready to get dismissed, but old girl surprised me. They’re getting along.”

“I guess Richard still has the juice?”

Warren didn’t mean to scowl, but his face didn’t get the memo.

“You have a problem with that?”

“As a matter of fact, I do.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to break up their little tête-à-tête and grab this next dance.”