restless.”
“Local politics aren’t my concern.”
“Not unless you get lynched.”
“The Civil War’s over, remember?”
“Tell Mrs. Robert E. Lee over there that.”
Daniel stifled a chuckle. Matters surrounding elections often drove high feelings. He wished Abigail all the best with her efforts to infiltrate this previously held man’s domain. Other than that, he wasn’t interested. Wouldn’t get involved.
Daniel nodded at the laptop case Rand carried.
“You heading off?”
Rand nodded. “Sure you want to stay?”
“I have a job to do.”
“And a certain lady to see?”
Daniel opened his mouth to deny it, but what was the point. “As a matter of fact, yes. I’m taking Elizabeth Milton to dinner this evening.”
“She must be special.”
“I’m not staying because of Elizabeth.”
“It’s none of my business, boss.”
“Then why are you grinning?”
“Was I grinning?”
He knew damn well he was and, for a moment, Daniel thought Rand had somehow learned about his and Elizabeth’s escapade this morning. But that wasn’t possible, even if Chadwick Tremain obviously had his well-founded suspicions.
Daniel shook his second-in-charge’s hand and moved off toward the lifts. “I’ll see you when I get back.”
Rand reminded him. “Be careful not to overstay your welcome.”
When Daniel received a message from Elizabeth saying she’d meet him at the restaurant, he wondered why she wouldn’t want him to collect her.
Where women were concerned he was the old-fashioned type. A man should collect a lady, be on time, open her door. He couldn’t say he’d slept with a woman he’d known less than twenty-four hours before. To balance that anomaly, he couldn’t remember wanting to enjoy that time again so much.
Perhaps she’d planned to already be out and about, he decided, nodding to the doorman as he entered Claire’s Restaurant that evening. And if Elizabeth had her own transportation, was he still on for looking over more of her home later this evening, or was she planning on saying goodnight here?
Daniel rubbed the back of his neck.
After being so forthright this morning, would she play hard to get now?
But then, as the maître d’ inquired about a reservation, Daniel saw her, dressed in a red satin cocktail number, alone in a secluded corner. Her hair was down, flowing around her shoulders and back like a silken river. She sat as poised as a princess, but he knew firsthand she possessed the spirit of a tiger. With his gaze combing her arms and legs, Daniel’s blood stirred and heated. Damn, he’d forgotten just how gorgeous she was.
Noting she hadn’t seen him arrive, he thanked the maître d’ and sauntered over. Perhaps he should wind around and up behind then surprise her by planting a hot kiss on one side of her neck. But could he stop at one?
He set off, weaving around tables dotted with patrons involved in private conversations or perusing menus. He was only a few strides away from reaching her table when he recognized a voice and an unsettling feeling gripped his middle. After this morning, he’d know that drawl anywhere.
Bradford Price.
Daniel glanced to his right. Sure enough, Brad Price was seated with a number of others. His expression was open, confident, unlike earlier today when he’d been agitated about babies and blackmail. Daniel wondered what Brad’s supporters would say if they knew their candidate to head the renowned Cattleman’s Club was likely knee-deep in scandal involving blackmail.
Price’s focus snaked over Daniel’s way. With a steely gaze, Price sent a halfhearted salute. Daniel tipped his head in response. Good luck in trying to keep a secret that big in such a small town, Daniel thought.
When he reached Elizabeth’s table, he found her frowning, her gaze shifting between Price and him.
“You know Bradford?” she asked.
“I know of him.”
Tipping close, Daniel grazed his lips over her temple. His lungs absorbed her sweet scent and recollections of their time together in his suite this morning flooded his senses. It was on the tip of his tongue to suggest they eat later. He was hungry, but he was hungrier for her. Then Brad Price’s cocky laugh filtered across the room. Daniel was brought back and he straightened to his full height.
“This is obviously the place to dine in Royal.” He took his seat. “Should we expect Mr. Tremain, too?”
“Chad?” She wound a wave of blond hair away from her cheek and shrugged. “Possibly.”
“There goes the appetite,” he muttered, shaking out his napkin.
“He’s not that bad.” She settled back in her chair, looking a little smug. “He made that donation today. I’ll be flamingo free come morning.”
“You made the donation, Elizabeth. Don’t forget Tremain works for you. He needs to be reminded of that more often, too.”
“If you’re uncomfortable, we can leave.”
He took in her stiff expression, her suddenly tight tone, and kicked himself. They were here to enjoy each other’s company, some good food, not to rehash a situation that he had no power over and no right to interfere with.
He cleared his mind.
“No. This is good.” He signaled for the waitress. “Did you drive yourself here?”
“Abigail wanted to meet for a drink and discuss some campaign plans. She dropped by the ranch to pick me up.”
“You should have asked her to join us.”
“She didn’t want to be a fifth wheel. And she said she’d had a big day.” She angled her head and those glossy full lips gleamed in the candlelight. “How did you occupy yourself this afternoon?”
“I dropped by the club again.”
“Any ideas?”
“Nothing that blew me away.”
Unlike that tiff when he returned to the hotel. Despite the cool act in front of Rand, the interaction had surprised and unsettled him. He’d vowed to put it out of his head but now he was interested to know.
“There was a guest today at the hotel’s reception,” he said. “She was very vocal about the fact that nothing about the club should be changed. She made it clear she didn’t want the leadership to pass into the hands of anyone
