Gail Barrett - A Kiss to Die for

“I run a shelter in D.C. now. But I’m afraid I accepted the invitation at the last moment. They can’t find us on the list.” She motioned toward the women still rifling through pages of names.

“Latecomers are on the addendum,” the chief of staff told them, and Haley smiled. Gwen had always been a “fixer,” one of those competent, take-charge people everyone relied on to get things done. Apparently, that hadn’t changed.

But her appearance had. Never slender, her hips had grown broader, her waist thicker over the years. Gray hairs now streaked her classic bob. But she still had that brisk, efficient attitude that had been her hallmark, propelling her formidable career.

And if anyone deserved success, it was Gwendolyn Shaffer. She’d helped make Haley’s teen years tolerable, offering sympathy and support, especially after her sister’s death.

“Oh, here we are.” Apology in her eyes, the woman at the table handed Haley their raffle tickets and brochure. “You’re automatically entered in the drawing. The winners are posted on the board near the orchestra as they’re announced.”

“Ms. Shaffer,” another woman called out.

“Another crisis.” Gwen rolled her eyes, but her smile softened the complaint. “We’ll talk again later.” She turned and hurried off.

“So your father went to school with the senator,” Sully said, taking Haley’s arm.

“He knows everyone. That’s why I need to talk to him.”

And there was no reason to delay. Inhaling deeply, she walked with Sully to the edge of the ballroom and scanned the crowd. Her belly churned. A clammy sweat moistened her upper lip at the thought of confronting her parents after all these years. But she’d come here to smoke out a killer.

And it was time to start.

* * *

An hour later, Sully limped beside Haley through the stifling room, no longer bothering to fake a smile. His head throbbed. His hands shook from the need to drink. His bum leg ached so badly he grimaced with every step.

And he was sick of the endless introductions, the air kisses and backslapping from vain, vacuous people who’d elevated chitchat to an art form, millionaires displaying surgically enhanced women to pump up their egos, men who wouldn’t last two minutes on the battlefield posturing to exude an air of virility and power. He’d met celebrities, politicians, diplomats. The Virginia attorney general was here, along with the commissioner of the Baltimore Police Department. Across the room, the ambassador of Jaziirastan stood talking to Dean Walker, a high-powered CEO.

The place was a logistical nightmare. There were too many people, too much commotion beyond his control. The patio doors were wide open, allowing people to enter and exit at will. And with every passing moment, the uneasy feeling drumming inside him grew. Danger was here. He could feel it. But which direction it came from, he didn’t know.

Damn, he needed a drink.

He eyed a passing waiter, tempted to indulge in a shot of whiskey to take the edge off his mounting nerves. But he couldn’t take the chance. He couldn’t afford to dull his reactions with Haley’s life at risk. She was too vulnerable, too exposed, despite the crowded room.

He grabbed some water from the tray instead and gulped it down. Then he turned her way, skimming the graceful lines of her profile, the curve of her slender neck. She wore her hair up, but silky tendrils fluttered loose, softening the effect. And he had the strongest urge to move closer and inhale her seductive scent. To feel her softness wrapped around him and taste her sultry lips.

The dress she was wearing didn’t help. Long, black and tight, it showed off her curves to perfection, hugging her full, round breasts and hips. The dress dipped low in the back, exposing a heart-stopping expanse of naked skin.

Skin he had no business ogling right now. He jerked his attention back to the jam-packed room. It was bad enough that he couldn’t control their surroundings. Worse that he needed to drink so badly his heart was starting to race. But the last thing they both needed was to have lust fogging his brain, making it impossible to keep her safe.

The string quartet ended their piece. The emcee, a local radio personality, announced another batch of prizewinners to a smattering of polite applause. They were down to the final five.

Haley pulled out their ticket stubs from her little purse, then wrinkled her brow. “That’s your ticket. You’re one of the finalists.”

He shot her a frown. “Forget it. We’re not staying to the end.”

“I know. I just need to find my parents, and then we can go.”

Sully scanned the room, the crush of people making him sweat despite the open doors. He tried to loosen his collar, but failed. The rented tuxedo was too damned tight. “You’re sure they’re here?”

“Yes. They make a big show of supporting causes like this. They put on quite a show when I ran away, pretending to care. And events like this give them a chance to cash in on that sympathy again. Besides, I checked with my mother’s secretary. I said I was on the attendance committee.”

He tried to absorb all that. “Your mother has a secretary?”

Haley’s bare shoulders rose. “She has a busy social calendar.”

“Right.” He shook his head, wondering exactly how wealthy her family was. “How long since you’ve seen your parents?”

“Fifteen years. I talked to them on the phone once after I ran away, but...” She lifted her shoulders again, that wounded look flitting back through her hazel eyes, the same hint of vulnerability he’d glimpsed on the porch.

And all of a sudden, the need to comfort her stirred inside him, the desire to erase the tiny frown marring her brow and let her know that she wasn’t alone.

“I don’t see my family, either,” he confessed, then blinked, stunned that he’d let that slip. He never talked about his family. He tried not to even think about them after the mess he’d made of his life.

“Don’t they want to see you?”

They wanted to see him, all right. But he couldn’t stand the shame. He’d failed them all too badly, destroying their confidence and respect.

Not wanting to go down that disturbing track, he tugged on his collar again. “Something like that. It doesn’t matter now.”

But Haley’s perceptive gaze lingered on his. And for one unguarded moment, he wanted to tell her the truth, to confess how horribly he’d screwed up. To reveal the guilt, the regret, the pain.

No wonder the kids in her shelter liked her. There was something soothing about this woman, something solid and warm and kind. Her soft eyes promised compassion, absolution. As if she could make the world all right.

But then her gaze shifted to someone behind him. Her spine stiffened, snapping his attention back to the ballroom and the danger shadowing their heels. His pulse accelerating, he wheeled around. “What is it?”

“My parents.”

The dense crowd parted, revealing a couple heading their way. Sully’s gaze zeroed in on her father, Oliver Burroughs. About six feet tall, the prominent Baltimore defense attorney had Haley’s dark hair and hazel eyes, but the similarities ended there. His stride was an arrogant swagger, his eyes sharp and impatient as they skimmed the crowd. An egotist, Sully decided. A man consumed with his own inflated sense of power.

Sully’s gaze shifted to the woman beside him. Haley’s mother, Catherine, was tall, blonde and still strikingly beautiful, despite her advancing age. She had a slender build and a blade-thin nose in an impossibly flawless face. Like Haley, she wore her blond hair up, but not a strand was out of place. Diamonds glittered around her swanlike throat.

He swung his gaze to Haley, marveling at the difference. Haley certainly couldn’t match her mother in looks. Her mother was more beautiful, at least in a superficial way. But Haley radiated an inner warmth he found far more appealing. She was softer, more authentic.