Читать книгу Solid Gold Seduction - Zuri Day - Страница 17

Chapter 7

Anybody 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.”