“So I can get you naked and screaming my name again.”
A blush heated her cheeks and her eyelashes fluttered as she turned away.
He laughed. Oh, yeah, she’d been screaming his name several nights in a row, right until dawn was breaking. He’d been insatiable for her, and she hadn’t seemed to mind him working on that.
He took a slurp of coffee then scooped up his keys. “C’mon then. Let’s do this.”
Within ten minutes, he was driving along a leafy avenue. Mount Pierce rising in the distance.
She tapped his shoulder, pointed right, and he went through huge wooden gates onto a private road lined with skinny Italian pines. Manicured lawns stretched to the sides, and as he approached a large fountain, he passed an assortment of cars that each would sell for a small fortune if he had a way to get them into the compound and change their identity.
He pulled up next to a brand-new red Porsche, the bike’s tires sinking in the gravel at its side.
Bunting hung from the huge porchway and topiary trees were strung with tiny golden lights.
“You grow up here?” he asked, removing his helmet.
“No, not at all. Pops and Ellen bought this together after they married.” She climbed from the bike. “It’s not to my taste. Feels like a museum.”
“Must have cost some.”
“I guess. Money doesn’t make people happy though.”
“Makes life easier.”
“In some cases.” She set her helmet on the seat. “Shall we?”
“Yeah, sure.” Carter was curious to look around. He’d never dated a rich chick before, and that was most certainly what Leah’s family was. This was a far reach from what he was used to.
They went through the front door and were instantly greeted by a member of catering staff holding a tray loaded with champagne flutes.
Leah took a glass, then handed one to Carter. “Here. We’ll need this.”
He took it and followed her through a marble-floored hallway, past a sweeping staircase, a grand piano, and doors to what appeared to be a vast living area with a fireplace large enough to stand his Harley in.
They stepped outside, onto a terrace, and were greeted with the babble of conversation. One hundred or so townsfolk milled around the vast terrace, wearing expensive clothes, expensive jewelry and discussing expensive property, holidays, and purchases—or at least Carter guessed that was what rich folk talked about.
He took a slug of champagne and dropped his shades down. The sky was clear, not a cloud in it. To his right was a pool complete with a waterfall tumbling down fake rocks, and to his left, a tennis court stood empty in the heat.
“Ah, Leah, there you are, finally.”
Carter turned at the sound of a male voice.
“Pops.” She smiled and kissed the tall, gray-haired man on the cheek. “Great turnout, as always.”
“Yes, it is. Ellen did a marvelous job with the guest list.” Already, his narrow-eyed attention was on Carter. “And you are?”
“This is Carter Harris, Pops.” Leah swept her hand between them. “Carter this is my father, Mayor of Pierce, Tim White.”
“How do you do, sir.” Carter held out his hand. “Nice place you have.”
“Er, yes, thank you.” Tim shook his hand and tore his attention from Carter to Leah. “He is your … date?”
“Yes.” She linked her arm with Carter’s. “We’ve been spending time together. Carter taught me how to surf last week, down in southern Cali.”
I taught her a few others things too.
Carter smiled and watched a plethora of emotions spin through Tim’s eyes. It didn’t take a genius to know this man was not happy with his daughter’s choice of companion, and was likely wondering just what else they’d been doing in southern Cali.