"I thought I"d find a cheap motel where I could hole up and think. Which I still can do since your brother returned my cash."
Gabe set his jaw, much the same way his brother had when I"d said something to aggravate him. "You"re coming with me."
I sighed, the sound heavy in the enclosed s.p.a.ce. "It"s not smart, Gabe." I didn"t need to elaborate on why.
He reached over and covered my hand with his. "Maybe not in the way you mean, but for my peace of mind? Your safety? It d.a.m.n well is."
I closed my eyes in acknowledgment. The s.e.xual tension between us scared me, but that didn"t come close to more immediate fears. I wasn"t afraid of Lance tracking me down, but if I were honest with myself, the kind of rattrap I could afford in the city freaked me out.
I wasn"t stupid. Gabe was offering me a lifeline. I might not know him all that well, but the way he took control and his dark edge gave me a sense of security Lance never had, not at the beginning, middle, and especially not at the end of our relationship.
Okay, I thought to myself. Decision made. "I"ll go home with you. For now."
His deep exhale told me my answer pleased him, and I liked having his approval. I narrowed my gaze, confused by the reaction and the warmth rolling through me.
"You won"t regret it," he a.s.sured me.
A smile curved my lips. "That remains to be seen."
His wry chuckle echoed around us.
He maneuvered the stick shift as if the car were a part of him, the high speed no match for the powerful man. Which made me wonder more about him.
"So what do you do for a living? Besides invest in nightclubs?" I asked.
"Various things."
I rolled my eyes. "Such as?"
"I own hotels and nightclubs," he said.
"It"s better than you being on Wall Street," I mused.
"Technically, one of the hotels is on Madison, but I live off the East River."
I whistled before I could stop myself. "Sw.a.n.ky address."
"Decklan picked you up on your way from the Hamptons. Not so rough yourself," he reminded me.
I swallowed hard. "That"s over."
Yet here I sat, en route from one man"s cushy beach house to another"s deluxe apartment. I exhaled and said what I should have from the beginning. "Thank you for helping me out."
"My pleasure, kitten."
The term of endearment sent a rush of warmth skittering through me and a distinct pulsing between my thighs.
"Stay as long as you need."
I shivered at the prospect of being alone with Gabe. I wished I knew how long I"d need to remain there, but the hard truth was, his generosity would help me get my head on straight and give me breathing room to make decisions about my future.
"If I stay, I need to earn my own way." I was finished being kept by any man.
"So we"re back to prost.i.tution after all?" he asked, laughing before I could take offense.
I blushed, my cheeks hot. "I just don"t want to take advantage of your kindness."
"I"m not kind," he said, his severe words at odds with the lightness from seconds before. "But if you insist, we"ll work something out."
I exhaled in relief. More relaxed now, I leaned my head back against the st.u.r.dy leather and closed my eyes, when a very unwelcome thought intruded.
I bolted upright in the seat. "Won"t your girlfriend have a problem with me staying over?" Even before I"d been on the receiving end of being cheated on, I drew the line at going after another woman"s man.
His gaze slid to mine. "It won"t be any of her concern," he said, the words clipped but certain.
"I... Oh." I bit down on the inside of my cheek, not knowing how to respond to that or what he meant.
We remained quiet, only the rain lashing down on the windshield breaking the silence. I shut my eyes and let the steady beat wash over me, lulling me into oblivion.
"Wake up, kitten." A familiar, soothing voice washed over me.
A gentle shake and I came fully awake, my surroundings registering. Gabe"s car.
"We"re home," he said in the deep voice that caused a flood of moisture between my thighs and a distinct softening of my brain.
The one that told me I was in trouble. s.e.xy, compelling trouble.
Isabelle: Home?
I"d a.s.sumed Gabe"s apartment would be huge. Gorgeous. Expensively decorated. He looked like a man who expected and would only accept the best. And I"d been around enough of Lance"s a.s.sociates to know how the other half lived.
Gabe"s place put anything Lance owned to shame. It was a three-bedroom, three-and-one-half-bathroom apartment with not one but four terraces on Fifth Avenue. Yep. Apparently off the East River meant on the most expensive street in the world. I was a fountain of useless knowledge, as Lance liked to remind me when I"d occasionally spout out a tidbit or fact I"d learned from the Internet, television, or books.
Something else about me, I"m a bookworm and not the least bit ashamed of it. So when, in the midst of my tour of Gabe"s living s.p.a.ce, I found myself in a den with fully lined bookshelves and a movable wooden ladder, I instantly fell in love. Not with the man, I a.s.sured myself, but with the library.
"You can read in this room anytime you like," Gabe said, pleasure in his voice that I loved his library as much as he obviously did.
"I still don"t understand why you"re doing this," I murmured. "Your brother is right. You must like taking in strays. How many before me?"
He came to a complete halt in the entryway of the library, a furious look in his eyes, and not one I liked aimed at me.
"None," he said.
We both knew he lied.
With a tip of his head, he started back toward the foyer, past a closed door. "What"s this room?" I asked, eager to change the subject, at least for now.
"Bedroom," he said, his tone still clipped. "Come. This way."
I was still thinking about the library and the books, some hardcover, others paperback, all appearing in pristine condition.
"One day I"d like to hear that sound for something other than books," he said, his tone lighter than seconds before.
"Seriously, what am I supposed to say to that?" It was like the handcuff comment at the precinct.
Gabe chuckled, grasped my elbow, and led me back through the elegant inlaid marble entryway from which I"d entered to the other side of the ma.s.sive apartment.
"Master bedroom here," he said, pointing to the open door leading to his suite.
I wasn"t ready to get an intimate look at his personal s.p.a.ce, so I waited for him to move us along.
"And this is your room," he said.
Next to his.
I swallowed hard and stepped inside. Wall-to-wall windows on one side surrounded by light, drapey-looking white curtains, and another generous set of windows on an adjoining wall.
"You can see Central Park in daylight," he said, his tone back to normal. "My sister, Lucy, stays here when she"s in town."
"How many of you Dares are there?"
"Three. Lucy lives in L.A. and runs our clubs out there, and she has no visits planned. Feel free to use whatever you"d like until we can get you a wardrobe of your own."
I spun from the gorgeous view to look at the equally gorgeous man. "I"ll borrow your sister"s clothes if you"re sure she won"t mind." I wasn"t going to touch his other outrageous statement.
"She won"t. Lucy"s the most generous woman I know," he said, the warmth in his voice both unexpected and touching.
He seemed pretty generous himself, at least to me.
He swung open the door to what I figured was the bathroom. It was actually a luxury spa, a mix of cream, taupe, and brown marble. The shower was filled with more nozzles and hoses than I knew what to do with, and even a bench inside.
"I"m sure Lucy left enough bottles of female stuff that you"ll make do."
I managed a nod. I didn"t want to admit I was overwhelmed but was certain he could see it in my face. Channeling Scarlett O"Hara, I decided that tomorrow I"d deal with things in a much better frame of mind.
Chapter Three.
Gabe: Revealed Gabe silently thanked G.o.d his houseguest escaped into the shower as soon as she possibly could. The tour of the house had just about done him in. Isabelle"s oohs and aahs had been genuine, as had her love of his favorite room in the place. Unlike Naomi, who had taken one look at his apartment and immediately begun calculating how she could move in permanently, Isabelle, who he had invited, not only wanted to pay her way but she planned to leave as soon as possible.
Not if he had his way.
Back at the police station, outside in the rain, it"d been all he could do not to reach out and swipe his hands over her responsive nipples, feel her tremble beneath his touch, and get rid of the ridiculous distance between them. He might not know her well, but he"d always felt they"d connected. The physical attraction was obvious. She was all woman, supple curves, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s full and lush, and she possessed one h.e.l.l of an a.s.s. His c.o.c.k twitched with desire he"d felt from the moment he"d first seen her on Daltry"s arm.
But things ran deeper. They"d shared banter and flirting during opportune moments when he"d caught her alone. He"d had glimpses of the intelligent, witty woman she was when not with that pompous a.s.s. But not until today had he really seen beyond the exterior beauty to the depth beneath. Those s.e.xy blonde curls that bounced wildly around her face were a proud testament to the fiercely independent woman she desperately wanted to be.
The woman he intended to help her find.
It wouldn"t be easy. Isabelle needed gentling. Understanding. Patience. Not his best traits, but when it came to her, he"d already exercised plenty. He"d bided his time, knowing Daltry would f.u.c.k up sooner or later. The b.a.l.l.s that made him a crack financial investor also imbued an arrogance that would be his downfall. And it had been.
It was Gabe"s good fortune that Daltry"s screw-up had landed Isabelle at his brother"s police station. Seeing her there had given him insight he wouldn"t have had otherwise. In Isabelle, he saw an intriguing combination of weary life experience and innocent ingenue. It was the innocence the most primitive part of him wanted to conquer, to possess. Since he"d begun running his father"s empire at the age of twenty-one, the same age he"d been drafted into surrogate parenthood to his sister, he had always gotten what he wanted.
And Gabe wanted Isabelle.
Chapter Four.
Isabelle: Sleeping Beauty After Gabe left my room, I prowled around, inspecting the beautiful flowered artwork on the walls. Georgia O"Keefe originals if I wasn"t mistaken. I"d always been drawn to the bright colors and light. I searched the drawers for clothes, discovering that Gabe"s sister and I had similar taste. In fact, we shared some of the same items, but mine were back in my old closet, while hers were lying unused, inviting me to squeeze my Ds into her obviously more compact Bs.
Gabe was right. Tomorrow I"d have to go buy some of my own clothes, and I cringed at the thought of digging into my meager savings but would because I wouldn"t let him buy me the way Lance had.
I took a long, hot bath, lingering and feeling ultra decadent as I relaxed into the whirlpool bubbles. After, I dressed in Lucy"s sweatpants, mortified to discover that they, too, were a size too small. Clearly the woman didn"t have my b.o.o.bs or my size a.s.s. And here I"d really wanted to like her.
With a resigned sigh, I stepped out of the bathroom, surprised to find a tray of food at the foot of the bed, a chilled bottle of Bling H20-which cost forty dollars a bottle thanks to the Swarovski crystal-encrusted wording and the champagne-like cork. I knew this because Lance complained when I requested tap water at his favorite restaurant, insisting I order only the best.
And Gabe kept the water in his home. The bottle was too pretty for me to even open. Well, the man did own exclusive hotels and clubs, and I knew he"d been featured in online gossip columns more than once for his single, eligible status. He certainly desired and could afford the very best.
Still, I was thirsty, he had left it for me, and as with most things in my life at the moment, I had no viable choice. I ate the scrambled eggs, not questioning too hard whether he"d made them himself, I was so hungry.
But the biggest impact of the night came from the other item on the tray. The newest Nora Roberts book, hardback, which had just gone on sale this past Tuesday. I hadn"t yet ventured to town to buy myself a copy. Now if I"d thought about it, I would have resigned myself to waiting until I could afford it or found a library that was sure to have a long wait list.
Why Gabe owned the book was a mystery. How he"d known that was my taste in novels even more so. Especially since I didn"t want to come off as a starry-eyed romantic. Unfortunately, he"d figured me out already. Ready to read and relax for the first time all day, I crawled into the luxurious bed, sinking into the mattress and cuddling into the duvet, planning to read.
Next thing I knew, sunlight, muted by drawn curtains, streamed through the room. I blinked and instinctively knew the light wasn"t what had woken me. I forced my eyelids open to find Gabe staring at me from a chair across from the bed.
"Morning, Sleeping Beauty." He sipped coffee while he read the paper, as if being in my bedroom was perfectly normal, something he did every day.
Mortified, I sank deeper beneath the covers. "Get. Out."
He looked me over from head to toe, heat in his predatory gaze. I had to be imagining things. I wasn"t vain and was well aware that my hair always looked like a bad eighties perm experiment in the morning.
"What"s wrong? You"re completely covered," he said, closing the paper.