His Unlikely Lover (Unwanted #3)

by Natasha Anders

  She had stayed longer this time, Gabe reflected hours later as he watched her slight figure walk across the lawn toward the high fence between their properties. Long enough for them to have a round two—which had been slow, sensual, and utterly devastating—and round three in the shower. She had left immediately after the shower, ignoring Gabe’s entreaties for her to stay longer. She hadn’t even wanted him to walk her to the gate, insisting that she would be fine.

  As he reflected upon the past few hours, he realized that she hadn’t spoken much at all. She had told him what she liked and where she liked it. Had expressed her appreciation when he had done something that she enjoyed. Had said his name in so many different ways that he’d lost count of them but she hadn’t spoken of anything else. Hadn’t told him how work on the Corvette was progressing, hadn’t said if she’d solved the delivery mix up of that afternoon.

  The animated chatter that he was used to from her had been completely missing and the absence disturbed him.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Gabe groaned and blindly reached for the cell phone on the nightstand. Who in the hell would be calling before six in the morning? He glared at the display but it read “unknown” and he dragged his thumb across the screen to answer.

  “Gabriel Braddock,” he snapped.

  “It’s me.” Chase. Gabe pushed himself up and winced when he felt a burning sensation on the skin of his shoulders. He reached up gingerly with his free hand and investigated. There were three deep scratches scored into the flesh of both shoulders. He remembered Bobbi dragging her fingers down his back during their second bout of lovemaking and grinned at the memory—half aroused as he recalled exactly why she had made them. He had taken her to the brink and then eased off, she had been pissed off but he had made it up to her, prolonging the encounter until she had been out of her mind with lust.

  “Gabe?” Chase’s voice brought him back down to earth with a jolt.

  “Yeah, sorry. I’m here . . . When are you arriving?” Despite everything that had happened over the last few days, thoughts of his brother had remained very firmly in his mind. He was happy that Chase was returning home and would be out of immediate danger for the moment at least.

  “I’ll be landing in Cape Town at eight thirty this morning. Can you pick me up? Or send a car?”

  “I’ll pick you up,” Gabe said.

  “Thanks. See you later.” His brother still sounded off. Gabe couldn’t put his finger on it but something was very wrong. Chase disconnected the call before he could respond and Gabe put his phone aside and lay there for a while. He wondered if Bobbi was awake yet. She usually got an early start to the day. He decided to check and sent her an SMS.

  Up yet? When she didn’t immediately respond, he threw the bed covers off and padded—naked—to the closet to drag out his jogging shorts and T-shirt. When his phone buzzed, he all but dove for it but it was buried somewhere beneath the covers and he swore irritably while he hunted for it. When he found it he was rewarded with a single word.

  Yeah.

  Well . . . hell.

  I’m going for a run. Wanna join me? This time he didn’t have to wait too long for the response.

  Sure. Meet me at the gate in ten mins.

  He grinned, feeling ridiculously happy that she’d agreed and dragged on his running shoes before doing a few perfunctory stretches, keeping an eye on the clock. He didn’t want to be late.

  He left the house within seven minutes and was at the gate a minute after that. Bobbi wasn’t there yet. He did a few more stretches, enjoying the fresh air and early morning birdsong. It was a perfect summer morning and still cool enough for a leisurely jog around the neighborhood. Bobbi didn’t enjoy jogging as much as he did and joined him on his morning runs only occasionally. He heard a voice and looked up through the bars of the two-meter high gate. She was waving and shouting out a greeting to one of the security guards on the Richmond property. She made her way toward Gabe with that usual insouciant amble of hers and he looked his fill, appreciating the sensuous roll of her hips. He drank in the skintight running shorts and racerback sports bra that she usually wore for jogging and couldn’t quite fathom how he had managed to run with her before without wanting to lick every expanse of silky flesh on display. She was toned and tanned all over and while she didn’t have the most generous curves, the shape she did have was tight, sexy, and undeniably feminine.

  “Morning.” She grinned when she reached him.

  “Hey.”

  “It’s been a while since we’ve gone jogging together,” she noted, executing a graceful overhead stretch that emphasised the flatness of her belly and pert roundness of her breasts. She then turned and placed her hands on the gate to do a calf stretch and Gabe bit back a groan at the sight of her firm butt in those indecent shorts. God they clung to her like a second skin and just barely covered the lower curve of her behind.

  “I haven’t been jogging in a while.” He was so completely distracted by her sexy, sinuous stretches that he could barely concentrate on what he was saying. “Busy.”

  “Well, I’m going to kick some serious butt today, Braddock.” They were back in friend mode, he realized. It was as if last night hadn’t happened at all. She was her usual teasing and playful self and it created a disconnect in Gabe who couldn’t transition from lover to friend as easily as she apparently could. This was the same woman he had held and kissed and touched and pleasured just hours before and it was crazy not to be able to acknowledge that fact with a caress or a kiss or even an endearment.

  But these were his rules and if she could play by them, then so should he.

  “Don’t count on it, Richmond,” he countered, trying to inject some humor into his voice. “I have a couple of secret weapons.”

  “Oh? And what would they be?” She slanted her head curiously and looked damned adorable in the process.

  “Longer legs and . . . stamina,” he responded before taking off at a sprint and laughing when she shouted a protest.

  He got a good head start before slowing down and allowing her to catch up with him. He shortened his stride so that she could keep pace with him and they settled into an easy jog. After less than a kilometer she glared up at him.

  “I hate running,” she groused. “Why do you make me do this?”

  “Stop complaining, I didn’t make you do anything. I just invited you along. You didn’t have to come.”

  “Then why do you keep letting me do this to myself?” She puffed and he grinned again.

  “You’re being pathetic, Richmond, stop whining so much and focus on your breathing.” She was a good runner but hated the exertion. She needed coaxing and teasing to keep going. He’d been half coaching, half haranguing her during their jogs for years. It usually worked and she always finished the entire seventeen-kilometer course around the neighborhood in under an hour.

  They ended up back at his place about fifty minutes later and did a few cool-down exercises in silence.

  “I’m picking Chase up in an hour or so,” he told her, after taking a sip of water. The day was going to be a scorcher with the morning temperature already in the mid to upper twenties. He handed her his water bottle and she drank thirstily.

  “Did he say anything about his reasons for coming home?” she asked, running a hand through her damp hair. A few tendrils stuck to her forehead and he had to stop himself from reaching out and brushing them back.

  “Nothing yet . . . but something’s definitely wrong.” He frowned as he recalled his brother’s uncharacteristically subdued voice on the phone that morning.

  “At least he’ll be at home, so you’ll have plenty of time to figure out what the problem is,” she said, and he nodded.

  “Right. I’ve got to get showered, call Stephanie to tell her not to expect me this morning, and hit the road,” he said, wiping the dripping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

  “Me too, we’re short-staffed. Pieter has measles and there’s a lot to do.” She t
urned away but his voice halted her progress.

  “Bobbi?” He waited until she had turned back to face him before hooking a hand around the nape of her neck and dragging her over until she was plastered against his sweaty body. He dropped a hard kiss on her delicate mouth before she could utter a word of protest and before she could even think to push him away, he had already released her. She swayed and he put a hand on one of her shoulders to steady her.

  “Easy there,” he crooned, amused when she fixed a bemused look on his face. She looked completely dazed and incapable of speech.

  “Uh . . . right,” she finally said. “Thanks. I mean . . .”

  “You’re welcome.” He grinned.

  “Right. I’ve got to go . . .” She still looked completely discombobulated when she turned away from him again.

  “Have a good day,” he called to her back and she acknowledged the sentiment with a wave. “See you tonight.” So maybe he had presumed too much with that last statement, but aside from straightening her shoulders, she said nothing in response to it.

  She had already disappeared through the gate by the time Gabe realized that he was still standing on his front steps with a ridiculously goofy grin on his face and made his way back into the house. The grin didn’t fade until after his shower.

  He wasn’t grinning an hour later when he watched Chase make his way through the domestic arrivals gate at Cape Town International Airport. Chase looked haggard. That was the only word he could think of to describe his twin. He looked like he had lost at least ten kilograms, his hair was a shaggy mess, he obviously hadn’t shaved in days, and his cheeks were sunken hollows.

  “Jesus,” Gabe whispered in shock when he first caught sight of the man. He plastered a smile onto his lips when Chase saw him and heartily embraced the man who was a mere ten minutes older than Gabe. When they had been younger even their own mother had had difficulty telling them apart. Their mother would burst into tears if she were to see Chase right now. Gabe, himself, felt like weeping.

  He held onto his brother longer than he usually would and Chase seemed content to let him. They eventually moved apart and Gabe cleared his throat awkwardly, kind of embarrassed to note the sheen of tears in his brother’s eyes but then even more self-conscious when he realized that he was doing a lot of blinking to clear his misty vision as well.

  “Missed you, bro,” he muttered. He grabbed Chase’s tog bag, knowing that Chase would prefer to carry his precious camera equipment.

  “Yeah, it’s been too long between assignments,” Chase agreed. He hadn’t set foot in the country in more than six months. He had inherited their father’s wanderlust and sense of adventure but had channelled it more productively. They chatted about the flight and airline food on the long walk back to the car—keeping things simple and impersonal.

  Chase whistled appreciatively when he saw the Lamborghini.

  “This is a gorgeous piece of machinery.” He grinned boyishly, giving Gabe a glimpse of his old self. He did a slow circle around the car before coming to a halt at the driver’s side.

  “Keys?” he asked hopefully.

  “Yeah right,” Gabe scoffed. “If you think I’m letting your travel-weary butt drive this baby, you can think again.”

  “You suck,” his brother groused.

  “You sound like Bobbi,” Gabe chuckled, his heart doing a bizarre loop-the-loop in his chest at the mere mention of her name. What the hell? He busied himself with loading his brother’s gear into the car, hastily stifling that weird reaction. Luckily Chase traveled light—an occupational hazard—or they would have run into trouble. The car wasn’t exactly designed to carry a lot of luggage.

  “You haven’t let her drive it yet?” Chase asked, after they had left the airport.

  “Yet?” Gabe snorted. “Try ever. She’s too reckless, she could get herself killed.” He went ice cold at the very thought.

  “Come on, she’s not that bad,” Chase dismissed. “She’s actually damned good at racing—competent and in control—you’re too much of a nervous ninny to see that.”

  “Do not encourage her,” Gabe warned, and Chase shrugged.

  “Whatever, man.”

  “So will you be staying at your flat?” he asked Chase, referring to the luxury apartment in Camps Bay. When Chase didn’t immediately respond, Gabe glanced over at him in concern and saw that his brother was absently staring out at the passing scenery. He looked lost and haunted.

  “Chase?”

  “I’d prefer to stay at home this time round, bro. If that’s okay with you?”

  “Of course it’s okay with me,” Gabe reassured. “It’s your house too.”

  “I mean I don’t wanna cramp your style or anything. I know you always have some brainy blonde on call.” Gabe froze as he thought of Bobbi. How the hell were they going to work this with Chase staying under the same roof? The house was huge but . . .

  “That’s a weighty silence.” Chase’s voice intruded in his thoughts and Gabe glanced over at him. “I take it things are more serious with this latest one then? What is she? An astronaut? A professor? No, you’ve already dated a professor . . . an astrophysicist? Neurosurgeon?”

  “I’m not seeing anyone right now.” Gabe ended the speculation and the look of blatant disbelief on Chase’s face was almost comical. Gabe grinned reluctantly.

  “I’m not exactly Don Juan, you know. I do occasionally find myself between relationships.”

  “You lie,” Chase mocked. “No, say it ain’t so! My baby brother always has a bevy of beautiful blondes at his beck and call. Don’t tell me my hero has feet of clay. Don’t tell me!”

  “Shut up,” Gabe laughed, enjoying his brother’s banter. He had been watching Chase grow more relaxed with every passing kilometer as if whatever emotional burden he was carrying grew lighter and lighter the closer they got to home.

  Bobbi got through the morning somehow, but it was hard when she couldn’t think of anything other than Gabe and the things they had done to each other the night before. Then there was that morning’s kiss, which had been hard and fast and filled with so much promise that all she could think about was going back for more. It was seriously distracting.

  Her cell phone rang just before lunch and her heart leapt in excitement as she reached for it, wondering if it was Gabe. She doubted it since he probably wanted to spend time with Chase but she was hopeful. She rolled her eyes when she read the name on screen.

  “Billy, hi,” she greeted. He was five years her senior, the closest brother to her in age and the one who had given her the most grief growing up. They were pretty close though and often hung out together. Edward and Clyde were closer to each other in age—they had been fifteen and seventeen when their mother had died and had handled the sudden loss a lot better than their younger siblings had.

  The younger Richmond siblings, feeling abandoned by the adults and near-adults in their family at such a confusing time in their lives, had instead adopted the Braddock family as their own and had spent many long hours playing with the twins. Lucy Templeton-Braddock had taken them under her wing and had provided the stable maternal influence that they had lost. She had often referred to them as her “lost little lambs” and had treated them like they were her own.

  “Hey, Bobbi, I have a huge favor to ask you.” Her brother started his conversation without preamble and her eyes widened in surprise. He hardly ever asked her for favors.

  “Jase told me that you met Kyle Foster the other day?” That wasn’t at all what she had been expecting and she couldn’t do more than make a soft sound of confirmation. “I was hoping you could introduce me?”

  “What? No. Ask Jason, Kyle is his buddy.” Why were people constantly asking her about Kyle Foster? It was bizarre. “I don’t even know him.”

  “According to Jason, the guy has the hots for you,” Billy pointed out and Bobbi went bright red, grateful that her brother couldn’t see her face.

  “Why do you want to meet him anyway?”
<
br />   “He’s one of the best landscape architects around and in high demand. I’ve wanted to work with him for years.” Billy was an architect. A really great architect.

  “You’re a professional, Billy, your reputation speaks for itself. You don’t need me to make your contacts for you, just call him up and tell him you want to work with him. I’m sure he’ll jump at the opportunity.”

  “I’ve already tried that. I need him for a project in April, but he’s booked through to November. I figured if I could chat with him in a less formal setting, dinner maybe, and tell him about the project he’ll be interested enough to work on it with me.”

  “Dinner?” she asked in disbelief.

  “Yeah, like a double date kind of thing; you bring Foster, I bring one of my female friends and . . .”

  “Should I sleep with him to sweeten the deal?” she asked sarcastically.

  “Bobbi!” Her brother sounded so scandalized that for a moment she gave in to the impulse to grin. “Of course not, that’s not what . . .”

  “Billy, my answer is no. Do the professional thing and have your secretary call his secretary or whatever. Just leave me out of it.”

  “Dad tells me you’re bringing him to the Valentine’s Day thing.” Her jaw dropped.

  “Oh my God! What?” Her voice was so shrill Sean and Craig looked up from the shop floor to peer at her through the glass of her office door. “I met the guy once, why the hell is everybody asking me about him?”

  “Well, you hardly ever go out with guys, I’m pretty sure Dad was starting to think you batted for the other team,” he said, and Bobbi sighed and dropped her head back on the headrest of her chair, staring at the ceiling in frustration. She absently noted a daddy longlegs sitting idly in its web in one of the corners and her eyes automatically tracked across to the other corners to ensure that they were spider-free. “Dad seems to think you’re totally in love with the guy.”

  Her father had completely gotten the wrong end of the stick on that one, Bobbi thought with a sigh. Right emotion, wrong guy.