Seducing an Heiress (5 page)

"Want to renege on Ground Rule Number One?"

"No possible way."

"Ooo, the sparks fly," Richard sang out. "Now come along, missy. He hasn't given me a lot of time to work my magic."

The lure of a night of luxury in total anonymity pulled at her. Once Trey was gone she'd never have a chance like this again. What harm could it do?

Her heart beat a little faster at the thought of wearing the gown and she followed Richard into the fitting room.

*  *  *

Trey sprawled in an old but incredibly comfortable chair nursing a brandy while Richard fluttered around Dakota in one of the side rooms. In the few glimpses he'd had of her as the two came and went, she'd looked completely at home, relaxed and happy. He'd been right to solicit the designer's help. Not only would she now be appropriately dressed for the evening he had planned, but it was the perfect reminder of what she'd given up.

The designer ducked out of the fitting room and sashayed up to Trey, his face lit up like a kid in a candy store. "I didn't have time to launder these. I won't say a word if you burn them." He handed Trey Dakota's clothes, neatly folded. 

Feeling damn good about how his plan was working, Trey gave Richard an indulgent smile that made the guy blush, and pushed himself out of the chair. "I'll put them in the car." 

When Trey came back, he waited in front of the window gazing idly at the now lighted buildings lining the street. A reflection of movement caught his attention. He turned around and froze.

"Wow." 

"Speechless?" Dakota asked.

"Just about." She looked like a movie star, which was a stupid thing for a grown man to think, but there it was. 

Showing a hint of cleavage, the dress skimmed her curves like a lover's hand. The blonde hair hung well past her shoulders, her tawny skin was creamy pale and her now blue eyes slanted up a bit giving her an exotic look. 

If he'd passed her on the street, he wouldn't have recognized her. If he'd met her at a party he didn't think he would have either. But when he looked into her eyes, warm with sharp intelligence, there was Dakota. As if for him alone. 

The brush of possessiveness moving through his chest startled him. Alarm quickly followed. What the hell was he thinking? This was nothing but a job with a big payoff. His passport to getting the information he needed so he could find his sister. Any additional ideas he had about Dakota were nothing but a fool's day dream.

"Richard, you're a genius," Trey said, lacing his tone with friendly approval even though he was feeling anything but.

"I know. " Richard fussed with the dress. "No one, but no one, will recognize her. Just as I promised."

"I have to admit, this is pretty amazing." Dakota self-consciously stroked her hand over the wig. 

 "Now off you go. Wait, wait," Richard added, blocking Dakota's way as she started toward Trey. "You need a new name for tonight, darling. You can't go around saying 'Dakota this' and 'Dakota that.' Only one girl in the world with the name 'Dakota' could afford this dress."

"Good point." She ran her tongue over her full bottom lip and Trey's cock grew heavy, zapping 'go get her' messages to his brain as fast as it could. He stalwartly ignored the pointless urge.

"How about Sharon?" he suggested, purposefully thinking of his most frightening teacher from middle school to calm his libido.

"Please. She needs something exotic."

"You mean like Dakota?" she asked.

"Yes...no!" Richard lightly slapped her shoulder. "Crazy." Stepping back he surveyed his creation, frowning with concentration.

"If you say Bride of Frankenstein I'll bitch slap you," Dakota said wryly. 

"Wouldn't dream. I hate to see a grown man cry, especially when it's me." Richard rubbed his chin, thoughtfully, and then snapped his fingers. "I have it! Lark."

"Lark?" Trey made a wry face, wondering if creative geniuses were all a little nuts.

"The state bird of North
Dakota
," Richard said, pouting.

"Is meadowlark," Trey countered.

"I suppose you could call her Meadow, but that just sounds silly. There's always Utah or Texas."

Dakota's blue eyes danced. Blue. That would take some getting used to.

"We better get going. Lark." Trey held out his arm for her to take and tried to see her as nothing more than a casual business acquaintance. 

"Texas does have a nice ring to it," she said. 

"If we don't get moving, I'll be calling you Late to Dinner."

"Only if you want to be called In the Hospital."

"Funny." He wiggled his elbow to encourage her to take his arm. 

A smile touched the corner of her mouth and she glided up to him, her long, lean legs flashing though the slit in the side of the dress. Sexy spike-heeled sandals made them a mile longer.  

She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and her cinnamon scent surrounded him. 

His libido came to full attention. 

Which didn't worry him nearly as much as the fact that he was starting to like her. 

*  *  *

Dakota stepped out of the theatre into the cool evening, the familiar and comforting noises of the city cascading around her like pleasant background music. She sighed with pure pleasure. The show had been delightful. Almost as melt-in-her-mouth wonderful as the lobster. 

As she and Trey navigated through the crowd down to the sidewalk, she wondered if she could have found a way to live a more authentic life and still stayed in her father's world. Had she let her anger over Jack's betrayal color her view of what her father wanted from her? Had she over reacted? Instead of running to something had she actually been running away as Trey implied?

She didn't know. She only knew that it felt good to be in beautiful clothes, having a wonderful evening, in the company of an attractive man who knew how to be a charming companion when it suited him.

In this moment she felt completely at ease as if she'd unexpectedly found something she'd been missing--some natural part of herself. Just as Trey had promised, no one had recognized her, even though she'd spotted several people who had once claimed to be her friends. She had taken a perverse pleasure in walking past them without a second glance while jealous curiosity hardened their eyes and their dates ogled her. 

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," Trey observed as they started down the sidewalk toward his car.

"I'd forgotten how nice it was to be spoiled."

"You deserve to live like this."

"No thanks. It's like chocolate cheesecake. Best savored in small doses." 

She noticed a group of photographers milling at the corner of the theatre building and her happiness dimmed. They watched her and Trey with mild interest, but made no move toward them and after a moment, she relaxed. If people who had once considered themselves insiders in her life hadn't recognized her, no cheap sensational news reporter ever would. 

"Why did you leave the company?" Trey asked as they walked.

One of the reporters pushed off from the wall. The rest shifted, becoming instantly alert. Dakota tensed. "I didn't. I turned my back on my father."

"Heiresses are allowed to be eccentric. People would have eventually forgotten about the tape. Why throw your life away because of a temporary problem?"

She didn't expect him to understand how humiliated she'd felt by what her father had done, or what it was like living in his house. No one could. Except maybe someone who'd done time.

The reporters started toward them. Uneasiness skated down her back. "Trey," she hissed, nudging him. "Get your keys out."

He looked up and saw the group ambling toward them. "Steady. They can't possibly know who you are," he said in a low voice.

The group stopped a few yards in front of them, spreading across the sidewalk in a casual way that Dakota knew was anything but. Tension rode across her shoulders. She shifted her position to just a little behind Trey hoping to block their view of her.

"Good evening, Mr. Peters," a tall man in the front said as he slipped his tape recorder from his pocket. "Is it true you're in Cincinnati to meet with potential investors in the Dakota Nights line?"

"Hank." Trey acknowledged with a curt nod as he pulled his keys from his pocket. "No interviews, tonight. This is strictly pleasure."

"We can see that." A short, balding man with a scruffy growth of beard said in a heavy Brooklyn accent. He edged his way up next to Hank. 

A small gasp of dismay escaped from Dakota. His beady eyes hardened with interest and he craned his neck to see past Trey.

Serban Aines
. He had made her life difficult on more than one occasion, and completely miserable when the tape was released.

"How about the name of the young lady?" Hank asked, his confrontational tone making unpleasantly familiar shivers skate across Dakota's neck. 

"Afraid not, boys," Trey said, firmly. He turned and swept his arm protectively around her waist. "If you'll excuse us."

He started to move past them, but the group shifted, blocking their way, again.

"She looks very familiar," Aines said, ostensibly to Hank, though his eyes never left Dakota. "I know I've seen her somewhere before."

Trey let go and moved to stand fully in front of her. "She's an up and coming model and that's all I'll say on the matter. Except make sure you get the newest issue of
Vogue
when it comes out." 

The reporters started frantically making notes, some verbally into small recorders, some tapping away on their smart phones.

Aines moved to the left, still straining to see around Trey. His eyes narrowed. "I've definitely seen her before."

Dakota stared coldly at Aines over Trey's shoulder. How men like him could go around ruining people's lives and still sleep at night she'd never know. 

Their eyes locked. She hoped he could see how much she despised him and all reporters like him. Merciless jackals. Disgusting vermin. One of the best moments of her life had been when she'd decked the soulless scum bag for trying to take a picture under her dress.

His expression cleared. "It's you!" He whipped his camera up and started frantically snapping pictures. "It's the missing heiress!"

Horror blasted through her and she shied away, raising her hand to shield herself from the onslaught as the outpouring of flashes blinded her. Trey made a lunge for Aines but he darted away. 

"It's Dakota Jamison!" Aines shouted to the others. "I'd recognize that hateful witch no matter how much makeup she caked on!"

His words shot off a cascade of panic in Dakota. She jumped back as the paparazzi swarmed her, shouting as they came.

"Why'd you disappear--?"

"Does your father know where you are--?"

"Are you and Mr. Peters having an affair--?"

 "Are you secretly married--?" 

"Have you filmed yourselves having sex--?"

Their harsh voices bombarded her like shrapnel. In a moment she knew they'd have her surrounded. Escape would be impossible. 

She turned to run for the theatre, hoping to find protection there, but the crowd milling around in front of it was too thick. She'd never get through them in time. 

 "Dakota!" she heard Trey shout behind her, bringing a roar of triumph from the crowd of photographers at his inadvertent confirmation. 

She darted toward the street, skated past the crowd, and took off down the sidewalk.

Fear coursed through her, and then anger.

Or
had
the slip been inadvertent? Had Trey in fact betrayed her? Had he tipped off the smut press? Planned to have them waiting there for her?

What better way to force her from hiding while looking innocent of the whole thing.

What an idiot she was! Never let a man you were hot for get past your defenses. Hadn't she learned that lesson?

Pounding feet and more shouted questions echoed behind her, getting closer. Sucking in air like a bellows, her chest aching, she looked for a way to lose them, but the long blonde hair of her wig kept blowing across her eyes and the high heels of her sandals made it hard to get up speed. 

There was a chance they hadn't gotten a good picture of her. But if they caught her....

"Dakota!" This time Trey's shout came from her left and it was close. She turned her head in surprise. The silver Jaguar cruised along the curb next to her.

"Get in!"

CHAPTER SIX

"You set me up!" Dakota yelled back at Trey.

"I didn't!"

"Liar!"

"They're gaining on you!"

Flashes of light popped off just behind her. Wasn't one monster better than a pack of them? She pulled open the door and dove into the car.

Dakota struggled to untangle herself from the slippery material of her dress and get fully into the car. A hand grabbed her ankle.

She screamed and instinctively delivered a vicious kick to her attacker. Her foot connected with flesh eliciting a grunt of pain. The hand slid away, taking her sandal with it.

"Go! Go!" she shouted, pulling herself and the material of her skirt into the car. Trey cut into traffic and sped away from the curb just as she slammed the car door shut. 

Her gasping breath sounded unnaturally loud in the sudden silence of the car. She'd nearly had a heart attack out there. 

"Buckle your seatbelt," he said, his voice tense. "They're on us."

Worry shot down her spine and Dakota hastily buckled herself in. "It would have been easier to just tell Dad where I was." Actually, it would have been easier. Why hadn't Trey done that?

"What are you talking about?"

"Why go to all this trouble to arrange for the press to jump us? All you had to do was let Dad know where I am. He would have done the rest." And made sure she never had a chance to get out from under his thumb, again. 

A cold chill snaked over her, but she pushed it aside. She had bigger problems to deal with right now. If the press caught them,
then
she could worry about her father.