CHAPTER THREE
Gabe
It’s only minutes after I’ve lost Abigail again in my own damn building that I walk into the lobby of our offices and stop at the receptionist’s desk. “Who was Abigail here to see?”
Brooke, who is young and thankfully brunette, not redheaded, blinks up at me. “Abigail?”
“The redhead.”
A light goes off in her eyes. “Oh. Yes. The woman who walked in and wanted to see Reid? I told her he was on his honeymoon and honestly, she looked devastated. I think she was one of his exes or something like that.”
I take this in like a full-blown punch to the gut by a three-hundred-pound man. One of Reid’s exes. My mind goes back to her Ken Doll comment and all the times Reid and I have been called Twinkies. We look alike and yet I didn’t sense recognition in her, I didn’t sense a history with my brother in her. Not at all. “Did she leave a number?”
“Nothing. She just turned and left.”
I nod and walk away, heading toward my office, and when Connie and Lulu try to flag me down, I wave them off. I keep walking and enter my office where I shut the door, walk to my desk, and have my phone out of my pocket by the time I’m standing at the window, overlooking New York City. I punch in Reid’s number and he answers on the first ring. “Let me guess. This thing with dad is going to fuck up my honeymoon.”
“What?” I ask, my mind on Abigail. “What the hell are you talking about? Are you doing crack in Paris?”
“The only thing I’m doing in Paris is my wife. I was talking about dad’s mistress, asshole. The one suing us.”
I scrub my jaw. Right. The mistress and yep, I’m being an ass and I can’t seem to help it. The idea of Abigail being his dirty seconds hits ten wrong notes. “A redhead named Abigail. Who is she?”
“Is she dad’s mistress?”
“No. Fuck no, Reid. She came here to see you. Who the hell is she?”
“What the fuck is up your ass?”
I run my hand through my hair. “Did you fuck a woman named Abigail with red hair?”
“No. Never.” He’s silent a moment. “What is this really about? Come on, man. Talk to me. I know that isn’t something you like to do—”
“I need to know who she is and no, it’s not professional, at least I don’t think it is. She walked in here, asked for you, and left when she found out you were on your honeymoon. She seemed upset.”
“She’s not anyone I know, so if you want to fuck her, feel free. Hell, even if I had fucked her, you could fuck her. I’m married, and happily at that, but I get it. I wouldn’t want your seconds either. Is that what this is? You want her? Because I’m not used to you wanting any woman enough to get this damn prickly.”
“Neither am I,” I admit.
“Ah,” he says. “And you don’t like it.”
“I don’t know what the fuck I feel right now.”
“I understand all too well, brother. Talk to Connie. If I know Abigail, she’ll know Abigail.”
“Right. I’ll talk to Connie.”
“Did you fuck her?”
I laugh without humor. “No. No, I have not.”
He whistles. “And you’re this in need of information about her? Let me see if Carrie knows her.” He covers the phone and there are muffled voices before he returns with, “No go. She doesn’t know her either.”
“All right. Thanks, man, and on the whole asshole thing—”
“I can handle it. No need to say more. On another subject. This thing with dad.”
“I’ll handle it. If I can’t I’ll call you. You know I will.”
“I do. Good luck with dad and Abigail.” He hangs up. I walk to my desk and call Connie.
“Yes, Gabe?” she answers.
“Redhead named Abigail.”
“The one looking for Reid. What about her?”
“Who is she?”
“No clue. I assumed someone he fucked once upon a blue moon.”
“She’s not and I don’t like strange encounters like that one.”
“Hmmm,” she says. “I’ll dig around, but nothing is ringing a bell or setting off an alarm. You sure she’s not connected to whatever this thing is going on with your father?”
“Maybe,” I say, and disconnect to call my father.
“Yes, son?” he says, almost gloating with my need to call him.
“Redhead named Abigail?”
“What about her?”
“Do you know her?”
“No,” he says. “Should I?”
“No,” I say disconnecting and pressing my hands to my desk. She can’t be gone. She can’t be lost. She’ll be back. I’ll be ready.
My phone rings and it’s a client this time. I grab the call and allow myself to be swept away in my work, but I’ll be damned if Abigail doesn’t stay in the back of my mind. She just won’t let go of me. And she doesn’t let go of my mind. Hours pass and I wrap up a meeting just in time to see Lulu off on her vacation. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?” she asks, standing behind her desk, waiting on me as I approach.
“Positive. You deserve this. Go. See. Enjoy. Connie will take care of me.”
“You’re sure?” she asks again.
“Lulu,” I scold. “Leave. Now. I better not see you again until you’ve put on five pounds from eating too much pasta in Italy.”
She grins. “Okay. I’ll go. I can’t wait.” She grabs her purse, rounds the desk and before I know her intent, she hugs me. “God, I wish we were into each other. You really are a great guy, Gabe.” She kisses my cheek and takes off for the lobby.
A few minutes later, I’m in the elevator, headed downstairs and I can feel the blood rushing through me with the idea that I’m going to be back in the bar where I met Abigail. I enter the restaurant again, nod to the hostess, and move on. Once I’m inside the bar, I scan the room and feel another punch in my gut when Abigail isn’t here. I’m pathetic. I want this woman to the point of being pathetic for the first time in my life and I don’t even care.
I walk up to the bar and order a whiskey. Before long, I’m sitting with Carl and he’s proposing I finance an investment with his client that actually looks promising. I’m about halfway through the numbers when a sensation of being watched washes over me. My gaze lifts sharply to the right, and my heart thunders in my chest. It’s her. Abigail is sitting at the same table she was at last night and she’s not being shy about watching me.
“All I ask,” Carl says, “is that you look at the numbers. They’ll win you over.”
I force my attention to Carl. “And what do you get out of it?”
“Ten percent on top of my normal income, and if I didn’t want that, why would you want to employ me?”
I don’t confirm his assessment, but I agree. Why would I want him on board, if he wasn’t hungry and making us money? He’s a good man. He’ll get this cut if this pans out. I stand up and he follows me to my feet. “Email me the numbers. We’ll talk soon.”
“I will,” he says and we shake hands before he walks away.
Abigail chooses that moment, obviously by design, to walk toward the bathroom again.
I pursue and do so with my blood pumping, adrenaline chasing it through my veins. I enter the hallway, round the corner, and find her waiting for me. “I didn’t know who you were,” she says. “I need you to know that I didn’t know who you were when I kissed you.”
I grab her and pull her to me. “Did you fuck my brother?”
“God no,” she says, her hand landing on my chest. “I wanted to hire your brother. I need to hire your firm, but I’m pretty sure that means I shouldn’t have kissed you. And I can’t do it again. I can’t kiss you again. You know that, right?”
“Do you want to kiss me again?” I challenge.
“It doesn’t matter. I have to talk to you and—”
“Do you want to kiss me again?”
“Yes, but—”
That’s all I need to hear. I cup her head and kiss h
er.
CHAPTER FOUR
Abigail
When he kisses me, I feel alive. I feel like the woman that was hollowed out with pain. I tell myself to pull away from the kiss, that he’s my only hope in a war I didn’t want to fight, but that’s the problem. He feels like the lifeline in this war in ways I didn’t expect. And so, I sink into the kiss, and I kiss him like I’ve never been kissed before, like I will never be kissed again. Unbidden though, images of my mother crying last night are back in my mind and I shove away from him.
“Wait,” I plead. “Wait. I can’t hire you and do this, not without getting you in trouble and that’s not what I want.”
He turns me and presses me against the wall, that big, hard, perfect body of his caging mine in a delicious way that makes me forget anything I might be about to say. “You’re worried about getting me in trouble?” he demands.
“Yes.” My hands flatten on the solid wall of his chest. “Because you or Reid have to be the attorney. Really, it’s Reid I need, but he’s gone and—”
“Why Reid?”
“Because my enemy used to be his client.”
“Who?”
“Jean Claude Laurette. Reid managed his investments and—”
“My father managed his investments. Who is Jean Claude to you?”
“Do we have to do this right here like this?”
He studies me, his blue eyes intense, sharp, potent. God, when this man looks at me, I feel it everywhere. And then suddenly, he’s kissing me again, his fingers tangled in my hair, a rough pull to their touch that undoes me in all the right ways. I can’t hold back with this man. I can’t stop the assault on my senses he creates and I melt right here in the hallway.
The only thing that brings me back to the present is the sound of voices nearby. I jolt and Gabe pulls back to look at me. “If we don’t go right now, I’m going to pull you in that bathroom and you won’t leave until you’ve come on my tongue.”
My eyes go wide. “You can’t say that.”
“You prefer I just do it?”
My cheeks heat. “No. I mean—I—”
He laughs, a low sexy laugh, and then a woman rounds the corner. He ignores her and presses his cheek to my cheek, his lips at my ear. “I’m going to enjoy making you blush,” he promises before pulling back and taking my hand. “Come with me.” He starts walking.
I don’t argue. Not when the woman that entered the hallway just glared at me. And not when his hand on mine feels so very good. I’ve been alone this past year, but in truth, I’ve been alone for five years. I was miserable. I know this isn’t possible, he and I aren’t possible, but there is this part of me that needs to feel every moment I can with him until it’s ripped away. He rounds the corner and moments later we enter the bar. He leads me toward my table where I assume we will sit and talk, but that’s not what happens.
The minute we get there, he shuts my MacBook and sticks it in my briefcase before he turns to face me, his handsome face etched with determination. “Where’s your coat?”
“I—at the hostess stand, but shouldn’t we sit down and talk? Or do you want to go to your office?”
He slides my briefcase over his shoulder and cups my face. “I’m taking you home with me. I don’t take women to my home, but I am you.”
His home? “I can’t do that. You can’t do that. I really need your help legally. I’m an attorney, but I can’t represent myself on this. I’ve tried. I need—”
“Reid and me. You need us both to beat Jean Claude. And as an attorney, you know that I can represent you as long as we’re involved before I sign on and I’m honest about it.” He takes my hand. “And we’re involved. I made that decision the minute you kissed me.”
“I can’t—”
He leans in and kisses me. “I can, and enough for both of us. Say yes.”
Say yes.
I want to.
“I can’t believe I’m really going to do this.”
His eyes simmer and he starts walking, obviously taking my reply as a yes. I don’t have time to even try to stop him from dragging me forward. Is he dragging me? No. I’m pretty sure I’m walking quite fast. And do I want to stop him from doing this, whatever this is to him? I don’t. I don’t want to stop him, but we do stop at the hostess stand. “We need her coat,” Gabe tells the girl behind the counter.
The girl nods and walks into the room behind her, while Gabe turns to me, his hands on my waist. “I live right across the street in Battery Park, but the opposite side of the park. I’ll get us a car.” He reaches in his pocket, pulls out his phone and punches in something I can’t see. “Five minutes that you don’t get to use to back out.”
“This isn’t smart.”
“Smartest thing I’ve done in a long time.”
“Here’s the coat.”
At this announcement, Gabe kisses me like he can’t stand waiting until we’re out of this moment then reaches for my coat. He undoes me. He drives me crazy. I haven’t had a man kiss me because he couldn’t wait to kiss me later in forever. The butterflies in my stomach are wild and crazy and wonderful. Gabe holds out my Chanel trench coat for me, a coat that is one of the few things I retained from my old life. It represents money and tells a story, but not the one he likely assumes. I turn and slide my arms inside, and when he settles it around me, he leans in and whispers, “You smell like roses tonight.”
Because I used my favorite bath products with a splash of rose-scented perfume and if I’m honest, I did it because I wanted to see him because I wanted him to be this close to me. I turn to face him and his eyes collide with mine with a punch of awareness that steals my breath. His eyes lower to my mouth and linger before lifting. “Why’d you come here instead of to the office?”
“I—” I breathe out, “was uncomfortable showing up to your office after kissing you. I thought you might frequent this place and I could talk to you here.”
“Good call,” he says, and his phone beeps. He pulls it from his pocket. “Our ride is here.” He laces his fingers with mine, holding on as if he thinks I will bolt, and the truth is, I should. I’m pulling this man into dangerous territory, far more so than he knows. He has the right to hear all the facts. I have to talk to him before anything else happens between us.
I hold this thought and vow to make it true, but then we’re in the back of a black sedan and he’s dragging me to him, his powerful thigh pressed to mine, his hand on my face, his breath a warm tease on my lips before he’s kissing me, drugging me with the taste of him, with a demand on his lips. And while I swore I would never let a man demand anything of me again, this man’s passion, his hunger, does demand, and it’s wonderful, it’s addictive, it’s an escape I didn’t know I needed, but I do. I need this. I need him. I can’t seem to stop the assault on my senses, and the burn to just keep kissing him. And kissing him. And kissing him some more.
I’ll tell him about the danger when we get to his apartment before I kiss him again. Before I let him kiss me again.
CHAPTER FIVE
Abigail
I really don’t even know when the car stops moving. Gabe parts our lips, awareness of our arrival washing over me, even as he strokes a strand of hair from my face, tenderness in the touch that he can’t possibly feel for me. He barely knows me, but it doesn’t even matter if it’s real. I just really need to feel this man, to feel something other than this hollow sensation I’ve been feeling.
“Come on,” he whispers, kissing me again before he glances at the driver. “Thanks, Jim.” He exits the car and helps me out, draping his arm over my shoulder, and sets us into motion down a sidewalk, the cold air off the nearby ocean gusting and lifting my hair. I shiver and he pulls me closer, holds me to him, but we don’t speak. We don’t have to speak. We’re just here, together, headed toward his apartment where we both know what we intend, and that sexual tension heats my chilled body.
It’s a short walk before we’re approaching his building. Gabe lets me go for only a fla
sh of a moment to hold the door and then I’m back under his arm while we cross a lobby of shiny floors and high ceilings. Gabe waves to the guard behind the security desk and we cut right to a bank of elevators. A car opens immediately as if the guard did something to ensure it was waiting for us.
Gabe laces his fingers with mine and leads me inside the car, maneuvering me until I’m against the wall by the panel. The doors begin to shut and Gabe steps close, his big body crowding mine, his spicy scent that hints at musk and man, consuming me the way he consumes me. He gives me no room to breathe anything but that scent. He gives me no room to escape, his powerful legs framing mine like they had in the bar bathroom, and then he punches in a floor and a security code. The doors are sealed and his hands cup my face.
“I thought I let you get away last night.”
“I thought you let me get away.”
“That wasn’t my intent,” he says. “I looked for you.”
“You did?”
“Yes. I did.”
My fingers curl on his chest. “I really didn’t know who you were. You know that, right?”
“If I thought you did, we wouldn’t be in this elevator together.”
The elevator halts and he kisses me. I really like the way he takes every opportunity to kiss me. “Let’s go to my apartment,” he says.
Nerves assail me, overwhelm me even, but he’s already leading me out of the elevator and with a quick turn right, we’re at his apartment. The next thing I know, he’s behind me, his big body crowding mine, his erection, impossible to miss as it nuzzles my backside. He unlocks the door and shoves it open. “Wait.” I rotate to face him. “Before I go inside—”
He walks me backward inside the apartment and kicks the door shut. “Too late. We’re already inside.”
“Gabe, about the legal case—”
“Reid and I will defend you.”
His Demand (Dirtier Duet Book 1) Page 2
