Sugar Daddy(95)

They disappeared like a vaudeville act, leaving us standing there in bemusement.

It was a conspiracy.

Stunned and mortified, I turned to Gage. "I had nothing to do with this, I swear—"

"I know. I know." He looked exasperated, and then he laughed. "As you can see, my family doesn't give a crap about subtlety."

The sight of one of his rare grins sent a rush of delight through me. "There's no need to take me to dinner," I said. "You must be tired after your trip to New York. And I'm guessing Dawnelle wouldn't be too happy about the idea of us going out."

His amusement faded. "Actually.. .Dawnelle and I broke up yesterday."

I thought I hadn't heard right. I was afraid to assume anything from that spare handful of words. I felt my pulse jumping beneath my skin, in my cheeks and throat and the insides of my arms. No doubt I looked pitifully confused, but Gage said nothing else, only waited for me to respond.

"I'm sorry," I eventually managed. "Is that why you went to New York? To...to break up with her?"

Gage nodded, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, letting his thumb touch the edge of my jaw. My face burned. I stood tensely, knowing if I relaxed even one muscle, I would wilt entirely. "I realized." he said, "if I'd become so obsessed with a woman I couldn't sleep at night, thinking about her.. .it didn't make sense for me to be going out with someone else, did it?"

I couldn't have said a word to save my life. My gaze fell to his shoulder, and I was overcome with the longing to rest my head against it. His hand played in my hair with electrifying lightness.

"So...do we go along with the setup?" I heard him ask after a moment.

I brought myself to look up at him. He was gorgeous. The fire shed hot colors across his skin and lit tiny rushlights in his eyes. The angles of his face were thrown into sharp relief He needed a haircut. The thick black locks were starting to curl over the tips of his ears and the back of his neck. I remembered the feel of it in my fingers, like coarse silk, and I ached with the desire to touch his head, tug it down to mine. What was his question? Oh, yes.. .the setup. "I'd hate to give them the satisfaction/' I said, and he smiled.

"You're right. On the other hand...we do have to eat." His gaze swept down my body. "And you're too pretty to stay home tonight." He settled a hand at the small of my back, pressed gently. "Let's get out of here."

His car was parked in the front drive. It was typical of Gage to drive a Maybach. It's a car for rich people who don't like to flaunt it, which is why you don't see many Maybachs in Houston. For about three hundred thousand dollars you get an exterior so understated that parking lot attendants rarely put it in the front along with the BMWs or Lexuses. The interior is fitted with glove leather and glossy amboyna hardwood carried out of an Indonesian jungle on the backs of elephants. Not to mention two video screens, two champagne flute holders, and a built-in minirefrigerator designed to hold a split of Cristal. And all of it can go from zero to sixty in less than five seconds.

Gage helped me into the low-slung car and reached in to buckle my seat belt. I relaxed into the seat, breathing in the smell of polished leather and staring at a front dash that resembled the interior of a small aircraft. The Maybach purred as we pulled away from the house.

Driving with one hand. Gage picked something up from the center console. He held up a cell phone and gave me a brief glance. "All right if I make a quick call?"

"Of course."

We went past the front gate. I looked at the mansions we passed, the bright yellow

rectangles of windows, the sight of a couple walking a dog along the quiet street. Just an ordinary night for some people.. .whereas for others, unimaginable things were happening.

Gage speed-dialed a number, and someone picked up the line. He spoke into the phone without even saying hello. "You know, Dad, I just got back from New York two hours ago. I haven't even had time to unpack my luggage. This may be a shocker, but I don't always do things according to your timetable."

A reply from Churchill.

"Yeah," Gage said, "I got that. But I'm warning you—from now on take care of your own damn love life and don't mess with mine." He closed the cell phone with a snap. "Old geezer," he muttered.

"He meddles with everyone," I said, breathless at the implication that I was part of his love life. "It's his way of showing affection."

Gage gave me a sardonic glance. "No kidding."

A thought occurred to me. "Did he know you were going to break up with Dawnelle?"

"Yes, I told him."

Churchill had known, and he hadn't said a word to me. I wanted to kill him. "So that's why he calmed down after he talked to you," I said. "I guess he wasn't a big fan of Dawnelle's."