Sugar Daddy(94)

"Carrington, hurry," I said with a touch of exasperation. "Let me in there and I'll help you—"

"I can do it by myself."

"I want you downstairs in the family room, in five minutes."

"Okay!"

Sighing heavily, I went to the elevator. Usually I took the stairs, but not when I was wearing three-inch heels. The house was strangely quiet except for the staccato of my metallic slides across marble flooring, clicks softening on hardwood, disappearing in the pile of wool carpeting.

The family room was empty, a fire winking and snapping in the fireplace. Perplexed, I went to the wet bar and sorted through decanters and bottles. I figured since I wasn't driving, and Churchill was forcing me to go out with the family, he owed me a drink. I poured some cola into a glass, added a shot of Zaya rum, and stirred it with my forefinger. As I took a medicinal gulp, the cold liquid slid down my throat with a sparkling bum. Maybe I'd added a little too much Zaya.

It was my misfortune to turn and catch sight of Gage entering the room while I was still in mid-swallow. I struggled for a second to keep from spewing the drink. After managing to force it down, I started to cough violently, setting aside the glass.

Gage was at my side in an instant. "Went down the wrong way?" he asked sympathetically, rubbing circles on my back.

I nodded and continued to cough, my eyes watering.

He looked concerned and amused. "My fault. I didn't mean to surprise you." His hand lingered on my back, which did nothing to restore my breathing.

I noticed two things right away—first, Gage was alone, and second, he was outrageously sexy in a black cashmere turtleneck and gray pants and black Prada loafers.

The last cough sputtered away, and I found myself staring helplessly into light crystalline eyes. "Hi," I said lamely.

A smile touched his lips. "Hi."

I was filled with dangerous heat, standing there with Gage. I felt happy just being near him, and miserable for any number of reasons, and humiliated by the desire to throw myself at him, and the turmoil of feeling all those things at once was almost more than I could stand. "Is.. .is Dawnelle with you?"

"No." Gage looked as if he wanted to say more, but he checked himself and glanced around the empty room. "Where is everyone?"

"I don't know. I thought Churchill said six o'clock."

His smile turned wry. "I have no idea why he was so damned impatient to get everyone together tonight. The only reason I came was because I hoped you and I might find a few minutes to talk afterward." A brief pause, and he added, "Alone."

A nervous shiver went down my back. "Okay."

"You look beautiful." Gage said. "But then you always do." He continued before I could respond. "I got a call from Jack on the way over here. He can't make it tonight."

"I hope he's not sick." I tried to sound concerned, when at the moment I couldn't have cared less about Jack.

"No, he's fine. His girlfriend just surprised him with tickets to a Coldplay concert."

"Jack hates Coldplay," I said, having heard him make comments to that effect.

"Yes. But he likes sleeping with his girlfriend."

We both turned as Gretchen and Carrington entered the room. Gretchen was dressed in a lavender boucle skirt, a matching silk blouse, and a Hermes scarf knotted around her neck. To my dismay, Carrington was wearing jeans and a pink sweater.

"Carrington," I asked, "you're not dressed yet? I laid out your blue skirt and your—"

"Can't go," my sister said cheerfully. "Got too much homework. So I'm going with Aunt Gretchen to her book club meeting, and I'll do it there."

Gretchen looked regretful. "I just remembered my book club meeting. I can't miss it. The girls are very strict about attendance. Two unexcused absences, and—" She drew her coral-manicured finger across her neck.

"They sound ruthless," I said.

"Oh; honey, you can't imagine. Once you're out, you're out for good. And then I'd have to find something else to do Tuesday nights, and the only thing going on besides the book club is Bunko Group." She looked at Gage apologetically. "You know how I hate Bunko."

"No I didn't"

"Bunko makes you fat," she informed him. "All that snacking. And at my age—"

"Where's Dad?" Gage interrupted.

Carrington answered innocently. "Uncle Churchill said to tell you his leg is bothering him so he's going to stay in tonight and watch a movie with his friend Vivian when she gets here."

"But since you two are dressed up so nice," Gretchen said, "you go on without us and have a good time."