A Billionaire's Redemption. Cindy Dees

the son of a prominent businessman of rape yesterday?”

      Her attention snapped back to the brunette woman who’d asked the question. She recognized Paula Craddock from KVXT news. The room went dead silent as dozens of reporters stared at her expectantly, waiting for her answer and sensing the kill.

      Honest to goodness, Willa thought she was going to throw up right then and there. Her stomach heaved as all her worst nightmares came true. Even the governor was throwing her a horrified look from the wings of stage left.

      She’d been a senator for two whole minutes, and she’d already disgraced the office, disgraced her family and disgraced herself. Shame, hot and acid, bubbled up in the back of her throat all but gagging her.

      “Courage, Will,” Gabe breathed from behind unmoving lips. “No shame. Chin high.”

      She took a wobbly breath and answered the reporter, “You’re referring to a personal matter that has no bearing on my new position. The events under investigation took place well before my father’s death, and I have confidence the truth will come out over time. Until then, I have no comment on it.”

      “But you’re wrecking a good man’s reputation and have no evidence to support your wild claims, both of which call into serious question your fitness to hold your father’s job,” Paula Craddock followed up.

      Gabe leaned forward aggressively, but Willa surprised herself by placing a restraining hand on his arm. He yielded the microphone to her reluctantly.

      Willa borrowed a page from her teacher’s playbook, and looked out across the sea of faces like a chiding parent addressing a room full of unruly five-year-olds. She spoke gently, but with unmistakable steel in her voice. “I said no comment. And I mean no comment. I will never comment on this matter, and I will blacklist any reporter who persists in questioning me about it. Understood?”

      A disconcerted murmur rose, and she sagged in relief as the governor’s press secretary hustled forward to call an end to the press conference and make a few off-camera wrap-up comments about the governor’s schedule for the rest of the day.

      Gabe’s arm went around her waist as her legs all but gave out from under her. “I told you, you should have eaten more breakfast,” he commented. “You’re going to look damned silly if you faint after putting them all in their place like that.”

      She smiled up at him weakly. He told a hotel employee to bring the senator a glass of orange juice, and she remembered at the last second not to look over her shoulder for her father.

      One of the governor’s aides hustled up to her. “The governor wanted me to let you know your Secret Service detail will arrive tomorrow. Would you like us to provide you with police protection in the meantime?”

      “Heavens, no,” she exclaimed. She just wanted her life to remain as close to normal as possible.

      The fellow scurried off as a hotel employee arrived with a pitcher of orange juice and poured her a glass of it.

      While Gabe watched on, she drank up the refreshing liquid obediently.

      “Now what?” he asked.

      Now what, indeed.