by Aria Ford
“Don’t resist me,” he urged her.
She shook her head. “It’s too soon.”
“You’re feeling the same as I,” he persisted.
“Shhh… give me time,” she pleaded and pushed away from him. “Goodnight Arran, I need to go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning,” she said with regret that she felt, but did not show.
He nodded. He understood. That made all the difference.
Chapter Seven
Gabrielle was up early and put on her swimsuit and headed for the pool. She wanted the physical release that she hoped would quell the longing she’d felt for Arran all night. Knowing that he was just a few walls away had kept her awake. She lay there and reexamined her life, as well as what the future looked to hold for her. Although she tried, there were few negatives she could summon up to worry about.
She began with smooth strokes and was soon doing laps as the sun rose above the horizon. Someone brought out a cart with coffee and pastries and as she donned a thick, terry bathrobe, she helped herself to both. She felt, rather than heard someone approach from behind and the question was answered as warm lips left a kiss on the nape of her neck. She heard a splash and knew Arran would be occupied for the next hour.
“I’m going into town to apply for that passport,” she called out and he waved to her. Gabrielle showered, dressed and headed to the door. Serra was waiting but Gabrielle didn’t like the idea of company on this short trip. She wanted some time to think and to talk to Ben and explain she was permanently quitting. “Serra, I’m running some errands and prefer to do them alone,” she said and saw Serra’s face fall. It must be some point of honor or something, she thought, but she couldn’t worry about that now.
She opened the roof on the Ferrari and headed to town. Her first stop was at a photo studio to get her passport shot made. Then came the post office where she filled out the application, filed it and was on her way.
The Bellagio was a bit quiet this morning and Gabrielle realized she’d never been in the bar at that time of the morning. Ben wasn’t in yet so she killed some time at the penny slots and ended up winning two hundred and fifty dollars. She played a while longer and then headed to some of the shops nearby, armed with credit cards and the house account Arran had established for her. She wanted some sexy lingerie, something Arran knew he couldn’t include in the wardrobe he had provided for her. She would have taken that the wrong way and never followed through in moving in with him.
She found a shop that was very exclusive, very quiet and sedate. The saleswoman sized Gabrielle up the moment she walked into the front door and asked her to take a seat on a tufted ottoman while she bought out some selections from which to choose.
The woman found Gabrielle’s coloring very fascinating and she brought out crimson and deep purple, as well as the more expected black – but none of these seem to be just right. At last she brought out a diaphanous creation in silver and they both knew it was perfect. Gabrielle tried it on and it gave the impression of her body being lost in a cloud of sparkling silver and lit her seductive eyes.
Gabrielle bought it immediately, as well as one in crimson so she’d have a bit of variety. She had lunch in a small café the tourists usually frequented and then headed back to the Bellagio to talk to Ben.
As hoped, he was behind the bar, stocking bottles. He looked up briefly to see her coming and greeted her with, “So you’re quitting again, are you?”
“How did you know?”
“Honey, when you’ve been around as long as I have, you begin to see the pattern.”
She thought about Arran’s remark regarding patterns and nodded. “I don’t want to leave you short-handed. Do you need me to work a few shifts until you can find and train a replacement?” she offered.
“Nah, you go on. I can tell it’s a better fit for you. You were too skittish to wait tables, anyway – cost me perfectly good glasses,” he added in a sardonic, kindly tone.
She reached out to shake his hand. “See you around, Ben. I appreciate all you did for me.”
“Aw, go on with ya,” he guffawed and gave her a half wave, half salute as she left.
Gabrielle stood for a moment on the gaming floor and looked around. She hadn’t had the time to make any friends, so there was no one to whom she needed to say goodbye. She took a moment to mentally bid farewell to the best job she’d had until then, and left. As she was waiting for them to bring her car up, she felt an arm beneath her elbow, propelling her forward into the crowd of people. She laughed. Arran always manages to surprise me, she thought to herself.
She looked up and to her horror, it wasn’t Arran. Carl was grinning down at her. He had an iron grip on her arm, to the point that it was hurting her. He dragged her to the curb where a taxi waited. He opened the door and shoved her inside, sliding in next to her. The cab pulled away from the curb and Carl held a switchblade to her side, out of the driver’s view. He tossed a hundred-dollar bill over the front seat and said, “Train station and don’t stop.” The driver nodded.
Gabrielle knew it would be useless to cry out or plead with the driver to help her. This was Vegas and those who lived and worked there knew to keep their mouths shut or it would not work out in their behalf. The driver sped on and Gabrielle began to shake.
When they reached the train station, Carl didn’t take her inside the depot, but forced her toward his car and made her get in. A small revolver replaced the knife now that they were alone. He made his way down the highway and they were soon surrounded by desert.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“You thought you were rid of me, didn’t you?” he said through gritted teeth.
“I tried not to think of you at all,” she responded, trying to keep her voice cool and disconnected. Her mind was reeling. Why didn’t I do as instructed and bring Serra with me? she admonished herself in fear.
“What is it you want?” she asked again.
“Yeah, I saw the guy – that rich guy with the bodyguard. You thought you were so smart, tagging up with him. You always were one to look out for yourself. Well, I’ve got you where I want you now.”
“Money? Is that what you want? I’ll give you all the cash I have. Just let me out of the car now and I won’t say anything to anyone.”
“Your money? Hell, no, that’s not even the beginning. I saw how that guy looked over you. He considers you his property. He’s probably worth millions. I wonder what he’d pay to get you back?”
“Carl, don’t be stupid. This is considered kidnapping and you’ll go to prison.”
“Not if there’s no evidence,” he said – words that made a cold chill run down her spine.
“You won’t get away with it, Carl. This guy is connected,” she said, hoping to intimidate him. “He’s got diplomatic immunity. He can have you killed and nobody will blink an eye. You can’t put one over on him. He’s smart and he’s vicious. He’s got all kinds of people who work for him. For all you know, they’re tailing us right now. Give it up, Carl. You don’t want me. He might pretend to give you the money, but then he will kill you, take me and his money back. You’re sealing your own death here.”
Carl snickered. Stupid people seldom realized their deficiencies and the result was they tended to repeat their mistakes and always paid the price.
“Give me your cell phone,” Carl ordered her. Gabrielle pulled it from her bag and handed it to him.
“No, you dial his number and give me the phone.”
Gabrielle nodded and tried to look unconcerned as she did so. Carl cocked the revolver and Gabrielle decided this was no time to play games. Carl was not only stupid; he was overly self-assured. He would make a mistake, she told herself.
She dialed Arran’s private line and handed the phone to Carl.
He quickly pulled off onto the sandy shoulder and turned, holding the gun directly at Gabrielle. Arran answered, expecting to hear Gabrielle’s voice.
“No, this ain’t her. But I got her. You want her back
you’ll put two million in suitcases and lock them in locker number thirteen at the train terminal. I got a duplicate key so just lock it in there, good and tight.”
Gabrielle watched Carl’s face go white. She didn’t know what it was that Arran was saying, but she doubted it contained any sort of pleasantries.
“Just do as I told you,” Carl said. “You got until midnight tonight. It ain’t there, I got a gun and a shovel and you’ll never find her body.” He tapped the phone and pocketed it. “There, now let’s see how much you mean to that boyfriend of yours,” he sputtered, drooling in anticipation at the riches he was about to receive. With that, he pulled back onto the roadway and headed further from town.
Chapter Eight
Carl pulled into a retro-looking motel lot, the sort of place that only stays open along old highways that used to be the lifeblood of American travel. He took Gabrielle’s arm and forced her into a room. Locking the door, he peered out the window to see if they’d been followed.
Gabrielle decided to play it cool. “You’ve been watching too many cowboy movies, Carl. If Arran was going to follow you, you’d never see him coming. He has professionals working for him. You’re dust – start saying your prayers.”
His head whipped around and there was a brief look of fear in his eyes. Gabrielle knew that at heart he was nothing more than a stupid, greedy bully. She only had to keep away from him and Arran would figure out a way to get to her. Or so she hoped.
* * *
Arran listened to the phone click and motioned to Alahan, speaking to him briefly in low tones. Alahan disappeared and returned immediately, Serra in tow. Her eyes were huge. She had failed in her only assignment and the Sheikh was known for his temper when it came to people who were close to him.
Arran kept his voice even. “Where did she go?”
“She said she had errands and insisted on going alone.”
“You take your orders from me. She does not understand the potential dangers. You will locate her and report back to me.”
Alahan’s face remained impassive but inside he knew Serra was probably in greater danger than she realized, and certainly more than Gabrielle. Serra bowed briefly and immediately sprang into action.
Arran began pacing. He knew how to deal with professionals. That was like a chess game with anticipated moves and strategy that had purpose. In this case he was dealing with an ignorant amateur, and that’s what made Gabrielle’s safety all the more at risk. There were no rules here. His cell buzzed and he saw it was a business call, but ignored it.
Serra stood on the perimeter, waiting to be recognized. She handed him a printout and he now knew exactly from where the call had been made. The rotating blades of a helicopter could already be heard in the distance. Arran disappeared momentarily inside and emerged in more rugged clothing and wearing a bullet-proof jacket to which was strapped several weapons and ammunition. Serra and Alahan were likewise outfitted and the three of them climbed into the waiting aircraft.
They approached the coordinates from the cell call and headed over the highway as it led from town. Scanning the landscape, they spotted the motel and one lone vehicle parked in front of a room. At this time of day, travelers had not yet stopped so it was easy to pick out. Arran tapped Gabrielle’s phone number and within one ring, Serra signaled him that their tracking had confirmed his suspicion.
The copter landed three miles down the road where a black, unmarked vehicle waited. It sped down the highway toward the motel and its occupants leapt out as soon as they hit the parking lot. Arran strode determinedly toward the building, while Serra and Alahan fanned out at ninety degree angles to him. Arran dialed the phone once again and Carl answered it.
“Hello?”
Arran’s intent was to keep Carl’s attention away from Gabrielle and focused on the money he sought. “Let me speak to Gabrielle before I leave the money. I need confirmation that she is alive.”
Carl handed the phone to Gabrielle. “Hello?”
He spoke quickly and succinctly. “We are outside. If possible, get into the bathroom and lie flat. At least lie flat. Now!”
Gabrielle calmly held the phone out to Carl. “He hung up,” she said. “I need to use the bathroom.”
Gabrielle turned and went into the bathroom, immediately dropping to the floor as Arran had ordered. Carl stood in the room, holding the phone to his ear and shaking it when there was no response. In the next moment there was a din as bodies crashed the door and burst through the room’s window. Two simultaneous clicks and Carl lay on the floor in a pool of his own blood. As the assailants stood aside, Arran stepped over the body and strode to the bathroom door, opening it. Gabrielle, lying on the floor with her arms over her head, looked up and began to cry when she saw who it was. He picked her up and lifted her onto the bed where he sat and held her. His hands ran through her hair and he kissed her forehead.
There was the sound of the helicopter landing immediately next to the building and within moments, Arran had Gabrielle inside, buckled and ready to take off. Alahan boarded while Serra stayed behind to remove any traces of their presence. She planted fingerprints, paraphernalia and remnants of drugs. Then she climbed aboard and within minutes, they were landing at the compound.
“I’m okay,” Gabrielle insisted as Arran moved to carry her inside.
Arran stopped and turned toward her. “That threat is gone, but there are as many equally, and far more lethal, threats who would like nothing more than to get to me by harming you. You are never to leave this compound unaccompanied again. Is that clear?” His voice was rough and tears formed in Gabrielle’s eyes as she realized how much danger she’d actually been in and that he’d rescued her.
Arran thought she was crying due to his harsh tone. “Don’t you know how I feel about you?” he burst out in a ragged tone.
This made her catch her breath. She nodded and he put his arm about her as they walked indoors. “Go now and rest. Wash away the memory of what has happened. It never happened, do you understand?”
Gabrielle nodded and then turned toward her room. Her mind was reeling. Who could get away with what he just did and have no consequences? It was then that she realized just how powerful he really was. Likewise, how dangerous he could be.
As the hot water of the shower cocooned her naked body, she began shake. Not only was her nemesis gone, forever, but she had innocently wandered into something she was not prepared for. The shock of realization set in and she felt the cold wave of fear descend over her.
She slid to the floor of the shower and cowered in the corner in a fetal position. All the memories of her random, miserable youth flooded over her. The shaking increased and eventually the hot water became warm and then chilled. She couldn’t seem to move outside the inner sensations. In the distance she heard noises that sounded like a drum beating and then there was a rush of cool air as the shower door was thrust open. Arran stood there, feet planted wide and as he looked down over her, a thousand emotions passed over his face. He hit the water faucet, stopping the stream of cold and scooped her up. He kicked shut her bedroom door with his foot and used one hand to throw back the covers on her bed. He slid her beneath, as carefully as one inserts a love letter of parchment into an unrelenting envelope. Stripping off his own clothes, he slipped in beside her, folding her against his own heat.
Arran grabbed a far corner of the blanket and gently patted her hair dry, kissing her forehead and murmuring things she couldn’t understand. He leapt from the bed and opened the window, allowing the heat of the dying sunlight to warm the room. This time he covered her with his body and although his first thoughts were to make her safe, the dampness of her womanhood cradled him. His need for her was taking precedence and with great restraint, he held to the task of getting her warm.
Eventually she fell asleep and the shaking subsided. Arran rolled to one side and slid his arm beneath her, holding her still against the length of his body. He laid there for a very long time, thinking. He’d never
felt protective of anyone before. It was an altogether new emotion for him. Indeed, with all that life had to offer being within an arm’s reach, he’d never known the concept of coveting another human being. Yet now, he lay there with the only person in the world for whom he would gladly sacrifice his own life, and she wasn’t even aware of it. Overcome with the maelstrom of confused emotion, he realized he had tears pooling in his eyes. He reached with one hand to wipe his eyes and the movement awakened her.
He looked down to see her eyes opened and looking up at him. She reached to touch his cheek, wiping away the moisture that had spilled over. “What’s wrong?” she whispered.
His answer was to bend his head and kiss her hard upon the lips. As if she was a fragile doll, he pulled her against him and wrapped arms around her nakedness. “Don’t ever leave me, Gabrielle,” he whispered furiously. “I won’t allow it.”
“Silly you,” she whispered. “You can’t order me to do what I’d already planned.”
Arran kissed her again and his lips moved to her cheeks and he nuzzled her neck. He breathed in the scent of her as though to burn in it into his memory. He filled his hand with her hair, holding it high and letting it slide off his fingers like a waterfall. Indeed, it reminded him of a silver ocean.
His hand cupped her round breast and it felt like a palm full of gold. He teased her pebbled nipples with his flicking tongue and she tasted like sweet honey. “I want you,” he whispered, but she didn’t think he was asking permission. Nevertheless, she gave it, nodding.
He began his journey of conquer by sliding up between her opened legs. Running a tanned finger slowly between her thighs, his hands pushed them open wide and his mouth took over the assault. His tongue invaded her labia, pushing the swollen lips aside and he tasted her willing juices, flowing freely now as he tenderly massaged the nub of her clit. Her hips pumped a rhythm as old as memory as she moaned and her head rolled from side to side, holding out her arms to him to be taken, thrusting her hips toward him and begging to be sucked. He chuckled and enjoyed her submission.
