CLOSE TO YOU: Enhanced (Lost Hearts) (17 page)

             
"We'll go in in a minute." George's heart soared with hope as their very proper British butler opened the door. "This might be . . . ahh. There she is."

             
Kate Montgomery had arrived, with a face like her mother's, but younger, firmer, not quite so kind and not at all trusting. She wore red silk. She moved like a living seduction and—he frowned—it looked as if she wore nothing beneath her gown.

             
That was not appropriate. When she was his, she'd have to change.

             
Beside him, he heard Evelyn gasp.

             
"Kate." He started forward, his hand outstretched to grasp the woman whom fate had returned to him.

             
And Teague Ramos stepped to her side.

             
George froze. He couldn't believe his eyes. His head pounded. Teague Ramos. Here, in his house, with Kate Montgomery. It wasn't
possible
.

             
"Senator Oberlin." Kate smiled up at him without a hint of personal awareness. "Thank you for inviting me to your anniversary party. May I introduce Teague Ramos?"

             
George stared at the man who towered over him by three inches, who was twenty years younger and had a well-deserved reputation for heartlessness. Ramos slept with beautiful women and never cared when they fell in love with him. He kept his own secrets and everyone else's. When he gave his word, he never went back on it. And he was almost,
almost
, as dangerous as George himself.

             
Then another man walked up. Blond, tall, with an easy smile and a confident stride that shouted he'd attended the best schools and had the finest background. George recognized him. Dean Sanders, a lawyer with a good firm, a man with political ambitions that would no doubt be fulfilled. "Good to see you, Senator Oberlin." His handshake was firm and confident. "I hope you don't mind me dropping in, especially since I'm escorting the most beautiful woman here."

             
Ramos stepped back.

             
"Yes, of course!" George didn't have to feign confusion when he asked, "So Miss Montgomery has two escorts tonight?"

             
"Teague is the man I'm currently doing a story on." Kate's hand wasn't on Ramos's arm. She didn't smile at him as if they were lovers.

             
But . . . currently doing a story on? Maybe, but sexual tension steamed between them. Any fool could sense it, and George was no fool.

             
              Or maybe he was, for standing here greeting the ghost of his lost love and discovering that history had repeated itself.

             
But right now, no matter how much he wished to, he couldn't have Ramos taken out and beat up. His stylish home in Austin's most prestigious district was full of guests—elegant, influential, wealthy guests. Dressed in tuxedos and designer dresses, they mingled and gossiped, and they did not need to gossip about him . . . and Kate. So with a little too much heartiness, he shook Ramos's hand. "I'm constantly surprised at what a small world this is." To Kate, he said, "I'm the one who recommended Ramos's firm for the job at the great Texas Capitol."

             
"Really?" His eyes inscrutable, Ramos returned the handshake. "I had no idea."               Actually George's point had been:
He's a minority and a veteran. It'll look good to the public.

             
"Welcome to my home. All . . . three . . . of you. I'm so glad you're settling in here in Austin, Kate." George half turned his back on Ramos and looked between Kate and Dean. "How long have you two been dating?"

             
"This is our first date," Kate said.

             
"But hopefully not our last," Dean added.

             
She smiled at him. "I'm sure our mothers can arrange something."

             
Dean laughed and hugged her shoulders. "I've got your number now."

             
George didn't give a crap if that white-bread lawyer escorted Kate anywhere. Sanders was the kind of guy women married—upright, honorable, and boring. No threat to George at all.
Ramos
was the man who could sucker a woman into a hot affair, the kind that branded her for life and left her longing for the wild side.

             
But reading Ramos's narrow-eyed stare, George would say the Mexican didn't like the camaraderie between Sanders and Kate one bit.

             
Good. George could build on that. "So, Dean, Kate, your mothers know each other. You two have a lot in common.

             
"It's amazing we never met before." Dean didn't seem to notice when Kate slipped out from under his embrace. "I've only lived in Austin, but she has family here. My sister attended Vanderbilt, too, and they were members of the same sorority. And we're members of the same health club!"

             
"Delightful." George was talking about that sneer on Ramos's face, not Dean and Kate's acquaintance.

             
Evelyn touched his sleeve, recalling him to his duty. So he introduced their guests to the quivering pile of sagging skin and trembling bones that was his life's mate. "This is my wife, Evelyn, my love and the reason I'm blessed enough to be able to give this anniversary party." Turning to Evelyn, he saw the glazed shock on her face as she gazed at Kate, and he squeezed her hand warningly—and hard.

             
"Wel-welcome," she stammered. "Mr. . . . Mr. Ramos. Mr. Sanders."

             
"Call me Dean," Sanders said heartily.

             
"Yes. Thank you, Dean. I will." Evelyn transferred her attention to Kate. "You . . . here. Welcome, Miss Montgomery." As if she were in a daze, she raised her hand and stroked Kate's cheek with her fingertips. "I've been watching you on the television. It's amazing how much you look like your mother. Like—" George's elbow made contact with her ribs. She broke off with a gasp, and the words rushed out on a single breath. "Thank you for coming to our anniversary party."

             
Their anniversary wasn't for four months, but no one knew that except George and Evelyn. A lot of glittering presents had made their appearance, despite the invitation's
No gifts, please,
and he didn't want to have to explain that his wife was an alcoholic and didn't remember the date of their anniversary. Especially not with reporters around. He glanced in at Linda Nguyen from KTTV and Maxwell Estevez from KTRQ. They had a tendency to check on every little slipup, and it wasn't that hard to discover the true date of their marriage.

             
Although—George transferred his attention to Brad Hasselbeck—he had insurance there. Brad Hasselbeck badly wanted to stay on George's good side, and he did as he was told when he was told. Right now, George was happy with Brad for moving so swiftly to bring Kate to the station.

             
Brad had better hope George stayed happy.

             
"Your twenty-fifth anniversary!" Kate said. "How wonderful to be married for so long. Congratulations, Mrs. Oberlin."

             
For so long? George and Evelyn had been married thirty-two years, ever since he'd realized the unattractive eighteen-year-old's family owned land and wealth in Hobart County and had convinced her to elope. He'd told Kate twenty-five years because he thought it made him sound younger, but to a girl Kate's age, even that was too much. He should have said . . . it didn't matter what he should have said.

             
She was young. He was more mature. Women her age married men his age all the time.

             
"Your silver anniversary. That's great!" Dean smiled widely and turned to Kate. "My parents just celebrated their thirty-fifth."

             
"Incredible," Kate murmured.

             
Her gaze was on that Mexican Ramos, who took Evelyn's trembling hand and bowed over it. "Twentyfive years is indeed a reason for celebration. Congratulations, Mrs. Oberlin." He glanced at George. "You, too, Senator."

             
Evelyn's southern belle persona had taken a battering over the years, but she donned a gracious smile and gestured toward the doors that opened into the gallery "Won't you go on in and join the other guests? Ah, Freddy"—the butler made his appearance—"please find Miss Montgomery, Mr. Sanders, and Mr. Ramos some champagne."

             
As Freddy escorted Ramos, Sanders, and Kate into the gallery, Evelyn sagged as if her knees had given way. It was funny how much she feared her husband. George had never laid a hand on her, but somewhere along the line she'd slowly turned into this trembling bowl of Jell-O --Jell-O mixed liberally with vodka.

             
"Stand up." George grabbed her arm. "Smile. You knew she was coming."

             
"I didn't . . . I didn't know." Evelyn sounded as if she were dying. "You didn't tell me."

             
He'd had the butler handle the invitations, and George
hadn't
told her, but he didn't let that change his answer. "Yes, I did. You must have been drunk. Again."

             
"You
didn't
tell me." She jerked her arm away, and it must have hurt because he'd been pinching it hard. "I would have remembered
that
. You didn't." Turning her back on him, she unsteadily walked away.

             
"Evelyn," he called in his coldest, most deadly tone.

             
She stopped. She didn't turn, but she stopped, a slender figure dressed in pristine white velvet.

             
"Remember—no drinking tonight." He made sure his voice reached her and only her. "Or I'll make you sorry."

             
Turning, she stared at him, her eyes glowing with anguish. "I'm already going to burn in hell. I warn you, George, I'm not going to let you get away with this again."

             
George laughed with genuine amusement. "Oh, my darling, I'm trembling with fear." As if
she
could ever hurt
him
.

             
Then he realized—she hadn't been so careful about her voice. People had heard her. They
stared
. Then they looked away, and a few of the braver or more ignorant souls tittered.

             
Kate was deep in conversation with Dean, and she seemed not to notice, but Ramos turned his head and listened, and in his stillness it seemed he was weighing each word.

             
George burned with fury. He'd worked too hard to be a part of this society to be disgraced by his alcoholic, psychotic wife. He smiled a brave, pained smile, willing to sacrifice his image as a happily married man. After all, he wouldn't be married to Evelyn for much longer. He'd already discussed divorce with his lawyer and, more important, with his campaign manager.

             
Moving into the great room, he took a glass of water; he wanted his abstinence to be noted. He smiled, spoke, worked his way through his guests toward Kate. He wanted to talk to her, to step between her and Ramos and see if he was imagining that sexual attraction between them.

             
He wasn't. He knew what he felt, what he saw. But he had to be sure.

             
It didn't matter that Kate had a date who never left her side. Ramos watched Kate as if she were a diamond and he a thief, and that comparison was more apt than George cared to consider.

             
Spying his chance for information, George moved unnoticed to Brad Hasselbeck's side. "An interesting couple—Teague Ramos and your new reporter."

             
Brad jumped as if George had discovered his guiltiest secret—which, by coincidence, George had. George had a tendency to find out people's secrets. He found it made them malleable and easily influenced, and in the case of a police chief, a fellow legislator, or the head of a television station, that kind of influence was worth its weight in gold.

             
"Senator Oberlin! I didn't hear you." Brad assayed a weak smile. "Lovely party. Lots of potential news stories here."

             
"Go and do your worst." George waved an expansive hand. "Maybe you could give me a little information about Kate Montgomery"

             
Brad swallowed audibly. "Sir?"

             
"How did she come to meet Ramos?" George smiled, all teeth and fangs.

             
"Kate?" Brad glanced at his reporter. "I thought she was dating that Dean Sayers."