California Caress

Would I stop him if he tried? she wondered as her chin lifted, and her eyes automatically began to close.

“You’re working for me now, sunshine,” he said dryly, his hand closing over hers on the doorknob. “If you want to earn your keep, see that you don’t forget it.”

“Bastard,” she spat, angrily shoving his hand away. The sound of her palm hitting his arrogant jaw was loud, countered only by the clatter of the door as she wrenched it open and let it crash into the wall.

She stepped into the lamp-lit hall, her palm stinging from the blow as she balled her fingers into a tight fist and hid them in the voluminous folds of her skirt—all the while struggling to swallow her fury. She heard Drake behind her, but refused to look back. If he wanted to beat her for her obstinacy, so be it, she couldn’t stop him. But one thing was for certain, she wouldn’t sit idly by while he humiliated her. She’d die first!

“I hope you got your anger out back there,” he said as he tightly grabbed her upper arm and started dragging her down the hall, “because in a few minutes you’re going to be introduced as my devoted wife. I expect you to play the part—to the hilt.”

“I said I would, didn’t—” She stopped abruptly as her gaze flickered to Drake, and she was rewarded with her first real look at him since he’d changed. Her bare feet tripped over thin air and she collided weakly against his arm.

This was not the Drake Frazier she’d met that night so many months ago in the Brass Button Tavern. It couldn’t be! Except for the white silk cravat knotted perfectly at his throat, and the matching ruffle that peeked from his cuffs, he was dressed head to toe in midnight black. An expensively tailored waistcoat strained over the broad shoulders, emphasizing their appealing width. Hope’s cheeks flooded crimson as she noted the matching breeches, so tight they were indecent, hugging each muscular curve of calf and thigh. The lean hips, tight and firm, were as flagrantly displayed. Her blush deepened as she tore her gaze away from that particular spot and fixed her shock-filled stare at the handprint reddening his cheek. It was the only safe place she could find to look.

In his tightly clinging denims and flannels, he’d looked dangerously handsome, sensually appealing. Now, he looked absolutely magnificent.

“Pleasantly surprised, I hope,” he said, a mocking grin twisting his lips as his gaze ran down her front. Hi

s good humor quickly evaporated.

So in awe had she been of Drake’s transformation, Hope hadn’t taken her own into account. Made curious by his sudden silence, she glanced down. Her gasp of surprise hissed down the empty hall.

As Drake had promised, the gown was satin. Soft, shimmering, rose-colored satin that, he was pleased to find, complemented the healthy glow in her cheeks to perfection and abruptly reminded Drake of the gown he had first seen her in. Except for the color, the resemblance ended there. The neckline was becomingly low, draping her shoulders and exposing a good deal of tempting creamy flesh. The wonderfully low neckline and short, puffed sleeves were accented with shimmering gold ribbons that enhanced the sparkling amber flecks in her eyes. More ribbons were woven in a zigzag pattern on the full skirt that draped gracefully from her hips. With no crinoline to destroy the elegant line of skirt, it fell gracefully to the carpeted floor.

Slowly, his gaze ascended the appealingly curved form. He clenched his fists tightly at his side and resisted the urge to reach out and touch the waves of chestnut that floated to her waist like a velvet cloud.

“Pleasantly surprised, I hope,” she mimicked, inclining her head in his general direction. She was shocked—and more than a little pleased—by his sudden discomfort. It wasn’t often she found the gunslinger at a loss for words, and she fully intended to enjoy it.

Hope dipped a curtsey fit for the queen of England herself, then swept the train of her skirt behind her and turned down the hall.

A gaping Drake was quick to follow, but not before he had indulged in the pleasure of watching those tempting hips sway.

A few elegantly dressed couples in silks and satins lined the plushy carpeted stairs. Alive with animated chatter, their conversation came to an abrupt halt as, one by one, their attention was drawn to the striking pair standing in repose at the top of the landing. More people stopped in mid-conversation, watching the two as they descended the staircase with unspoken elegance.

Hope felt the stares of curiosity that passed over herself and Drake, and instinctively tucked her hand in the warm crook of his arm. She half expected him to pull away, but instead he merely placed his palm over her fingers and continued to the bottom. His golden head occasionally nodded at the guests they passed, but the friendly gesture was rarely returned.

“They don’t seem to recognize you,” she leaned toward Drake and whispered, as they proceeded toward the doors from which the music flowed.

He looked down at Hope and sent her a smile that nearly stopped her heart from beating. The gesture may have been made for their audience, but for a split second the sight of his laughing, almost loving eyes, made her forget where she was and what she’d come here for. Drake, ever the antagonist, was quick to remind her.

“They’re staring at my lovely wife,” he murmured huskily. Dropping her hand, he reached out to cup the handful of chestnut waves cascading over her creamy shoulder. His eyes darkened as his hooded gaze returned to her face. “I think I’ve been overshadowed.”

Hope blushed under the compliment and looked away. Her attention settled on a pair of youthfully pretty girls standing near a suit of armor positioned in the foyer near the main door. They twittered excitedly behind their fluttering fans. Girlish giggles filled the air. Their eyes never left Drake, making it excruciatingly clear who amongst the gathering had brought that dreamy sparkle to their eyes.

“Look over there.” A half-grin tugged at her lips as she directed Drake’s attention to his youthful admirers. “Now who’s being overshadowed?”

The girls gasped and looked away, pretending not to notice his speculative gaze. When he glanced back at Hope, his eyes were alive with deviltry. “Judging from the reaction we’re getting,” he shrugged, “I’d say damn near everyone. Shall we?”

Hope blamed the sparkle that touched her eyes on the excitement of those around them. For whatever reason, her spirits were considerably lighter as she slipped her hand under his elbow and allowed him to guide her to the ballroom.

On each side of the open doorway stool a tall, garishly dressed servant. Both men were approximately of the same age, size, and stature, and both displayed the same somber-to-the-point-of-bored expressions. They glanced at each guest traveling in or out with only a passing interest, saving their attention for the more attractive female guests.

The two pairs of eyes lit on Drake and Hope as they approached the door. The men snapped to attention, but whether the reaction was born of recognition or intimidation, Hope was never really sure.

“Would you care to be announced, sir?” the man on the left, no more than a boy really, asked. The one on the right opened his mouth, presumably to ask the same question, then snapped it shut. His eyes were riveted to the woman clinging to the rugged man’s arm, and his youthful attention refused to waver.

“Yes,” Drake replied, his hand tightening over Hope’s fingers. “Wait thirty seconds, then announce Mr. And Mrs. Drake Phillip Frazier.”

Drake glanced down at Hope, missing the look the two young men exchanged. “Are you ready?”