He leaned toward the microphone that Macy held between them. “I’m honored that you think I’m so valuable,” he told her. “As flattering as that is, manners dictate that a gentleman should pay for the first date. Granted, not many people in this room would call me a gentleman.”
The crowd tittered nervously. He watched as Karina darted a sharp look at the crowd before redirecting her gaze to him. Did their nervous laughter at his expense peeve her? Interesting, but not as interesting as the look she gave him. Mischief blended with daring, anger, and curiosity, all directed at him. He couldn’t wait for their first private conversation.
“Because this is for a good cause, and because I’m feeling generous tonight, I think we should go for three.”
Her eyes widened. “Three million?”
“No. Three dates with you for five million to the Girls Up Foundation.”
A hush fell over the audience. “Are you serious?” That came from Macy.
“Completely.” He smiled at Karina. She was even more beautiful up close even in full concert makeup and clothes. She didn’t need the false lashes and layers of makeup—at least, she hadn’t needed it twelve years ago, nor in the two years they’d been together. He doubted she needed it now. Her kind of beauty took decades to fade, and then it just became a different sort of beauty.
Damn, he thought to himself. Five minutes on stage with her and already I’m waxing poetic. Moron. “What do you say, Karina?” he asked, making his voice deliberately teasing. “Three dates with the Bayou Beast for five million dollars to the Girls Up Foundation.”
Her chin went up and her eyes sparked with defiance as soon as he mentioned his fighting moniker. Would Karina Armistead of the Jackson Parrish Armisteads dare sully herself by going on three dates with a North Shore Devereaux, a lowly cage fighter—even if that cage fighter was now worth more than some small countries?
Her eyes twinkled with a wicked glint as she spoke into the microphone. “Who am I to disappoint some of my biggest fans? On behalf of the Girls Up Foundation, thank you for your very generous donation, Mr. Devereaux.”
The crowd exploded in cheers and more camera flashes. Gabriel smiled at her as he took her hand and very slowly bent over and pressed a kiss to it. A tremor claimed her fingers, no doubt due to the same electric zing that had raced through him the moment he’d touched her. He lingered over her hand, enjoying the soft feel of it, the frantic pulse hammering in her wrist. Even enjoying the flare of hunger that shot straight to his cock, riding a rush of blood to full wakefulness.
Surprise and a good deal of confusion blossomed on Karina’s expressive face, along with a glimmer of something he’d assumed would take a great deal more work on his part to uncover: desire.
This was certainly going to be interesting.
CHAPTER THREE
What the hell had she just gotten herself into?
Butterflies lined up like backup dancers in her belly, executing complex moves that pushed her nerves to the edge. Coming down from her concert high had never felt this sharp and biting. Just being near Gabriel caused her skin to prickle with awareness, her body to tense with memory. The press of his lips to the back of her hand with a surreptitious touch of his tongue thrown in, rang like a bell echoing down to her womb. She liked it, and she hated how much she liked it.
After the dramatic auction Karina and her band remained in the ballroom, taking photos with the cheerleaders and signing autographs. She also posed for photos with Macy and the rest of the Girls Up board. Mostly though, the reporters on site wanted photos with her and Gabriel. They were already using the phrase “Beauty and the Beast” to describe them even if they still hadn’t decided how to spin the story of Gabriel offering five million dollars for three dates. Luckily Macy, her manager, and her bodyguards Daniel and Henderson kept the reporters from peppering her with too many questions. Which was just as well, because damned if she had any answers.
Gabriel Devereaux knew how to take command of a room. It was impossible to stand next to him and not be aware of him on every level. Her heart pounded an extended drum solo of primitive desire. Her senses still tingled with awareness, like the charged atmosphere after a lightning strike. Standing next to him, smiling for the camera while fully aware of his hand lightly resting on the small of her back had been an exquisite sort of torture.
She hadn’t been prepared for the full impact of seeing him again. Hadn’t expected the way her stomach had clenched, the way her breath had shortened, her nipples had tightened. She was supposed to be mad at him though the anger had left her long ago, exorcised through song. Truth be told, she should have been thanking him. If he hadn’t left town without her, breaking her heart in the process, she wouldn’t be where she was today, an international singing sensation with several awards to her name.
After fielding even more questions, this time from her manager and bandmates, all of whom would be heading back to Nashville and Los Angeles, Karina bid them good-bye, refreshed herself, and made her way to her limo, with Daniel and Henny smoothing the way. The after-party celebration for the fund-raiser had moved to Choux, Macy Lovelace’s four-star restaurant. While the fund-raiser had been open to the press and anyone who could afford the ticket price, the dinner party was reserved for friends and family. Karina was one of the invitees. Unfortunately for her, so was Gabriel.
He took the seat beside her at the main table that included Macy and her fiancé, Raphael Jerroult, women’s boxing champion Renata Giordano, and her husband, Sebastian Delacroix. An older man who’d been introduced as gym owner Armand Duparte anchored the table. They were all extremely good-looking people, the kind of beauty people thought money could buy but had to have a natural canvas. Free of her stage makeup, Karina felt outclassed. It didn’t help that Macy had known her as a shy preteen and Gabriel had known her as an angst- and hormone- laden high schooler. They made it difficult to keep her social mask in place, to maintain the pop superstar façade that got her through public appearances and interviews.
Gabriel made it almost unbearable. He’d been intense when she’d first met him a dozen years ago, but that intensity had always softened when he interacted with her. Back then he’d been her Gabriel, an angel who’d fallen just for her. Now he was the Bayou Beast, the ultimate fighter, the savvy entrepreneur, a predator with a barely banked rage burning in his eyes.
That aura of danger should have made her feel threatened, but it didn’t. At twenty-eight, she was stronger and wiser now, a far cry from the emotional wreck she’d been when he’d left her.
She glanced at Gabriel again, disconcerted to find him staring at her with icy, assessing eyes. It felt as if he were sizing her up for something.
Two could play that game. She allowed her gaze to roam over his features, the black hair swept back from his forehead as if he’d shoved a hand through it, falling in thick waves to his collar. Eyes darker than the darkest night, eyes she’d once considered so soulful but were now like chips of obsidian. A strong nose that looked as if it had been broken before perched above a severe mouth that had forgotten how to smile, as if displaying happiness was a foreign concept. Broad shoulders and chest encased in a custom black suit, black shirt, bright red tie. Large hands that had played a guitar so skillfully when she’d first met him now sported bruised knuckles, a silent testament to his chosen career.
Returning her gaze to his face, she noted his eyes were no longer cold. Now they burned with challenge and pure male interest. Gabriel Devereaux was a beast wrapped in the trappings of civilization but hardly civilized, a hard man with a harder body. The kind of danger most women with a lick of sense ran away from. But she wasn’t most women, and she’d experienced Gabriel’s intensity before. It made her wonder if the sensitivity she’d seen in him twelve years ago was still somewhere inside the man, buried so deep even he’d forgotten its existence. She had three dates to find out.
She shook her head. Stop fantasizing, Kari, she admonished herself. If anything, you need to reme
mber that he left you all those years ago. That he broke your heart and disappeared without a word. That’s what you need to focus on, not the nights under the stars, sharing dreams, singing songs, and making love. Remember the hurt.
Searching for something to say that wouldn’t be the equivalent of traipsing down a memory lane studded with land mines, she settled on, “The other men … they’re your friends?”
He nodded. “Friends and business partners. We all went through Duparte’s gym at the same time. All hell-raisers in our own way, angry at the world. Duparte helped us train that anger to work in our favor. Sebastian was a champion boxer until he retired a couple of years ago. Raphael recently retired as a champion Muay Thai fighter thanks to a shoulder injury.”
“What about you?”
“Me? I’m the Bayou Beast.” He bared his teeth in a caricature of a smile. “I still enjoy being in the cage when I’m not making multimillion-dollar deals around the world for DJD Holdings.”
“You fight and manage a business?” Admittedly she hadn’t kept up with Gabriel after he’d abandoned her. While she’d seen media coverage of his exploits, she had no idea he’d gone on to be so stunningly successful, a man able to donate several million dollars without blinking an eye. “How do you find time for that?”
“I make time for what I want.”
Did that mean he hadn’t wanted her, that she’d been more trouble than she was worth? The flash of pain low in her belly took her by surprise. So did the flare of anger that followed. If she could still feel this kind of emotion after so long, that meant she still cared what Gabriel thought. That he still had some sort of hold over her, despite her attempts to exorcise him from her life and her heart. She had to sever that hold before it tangled her up and trapped her again. She had to remember the pain he’d caused her and use it as a shield to protect herself.
“Duly noted,” she said, managing to inject cool indifference into her tone. “Understandable too. Music is the most important thing in my life, and I make sure I give it all my time and attention. But I’m glad things worked out well for you.”
He ignored the waiter who placed a highball glass in front of him along with their glasses of water and her glass of wine. “It seems like they worked out well for you too,” he observed, then lifted his water glass. “Here’s to surviving youthful indiscretions.”
“Survival indeed.” She raised her own glass, tapping the rim against his with more force than necessary. Youthful indiscretions? Was that all he thought they’d been to each other? He’d been her whole world when she was sixteen, the one bright spot in the oppressiveness of being the only daughter of the powerful Armistead family. For two years he’d been the lifeline that had helped her survive in her father’s house, and when it had finally become unbearable, Gabriel had promised to help her escape, to take her away with him. Instead he’d left her all but broken.
Her chin lifted. He stared at her the way she imagined a predator examined a herd, gauging which was the weakest and ready to be taken down. Karina had stopped being prey the summer she turned eighteen, once her heart had scarred over.
“If the two years we spent together were simply a youthful indiscretion that you no longer had time for, why did you just offer five million dollars for three dates with me?”
He gave her a long, slow perusal that spread heat through her veins from crown to toes. “Because we’re no longer kids.”
Staring into his eyes, she realized she’d made a mistake. Several, even. His eyes were anything but calculating. Now they burned with a different intensity—an intensity that was thickly sensual, wrapping around her, luring her closer. She could even believe that he wanted her, but what was five million to a man reputedly worth a billion-plus?
She pushed back with an effort. “No, we’re no longer kids.” She allowed an edge to spill into her tone. “Which means I have no delusions where you or anyone else is concerned.”
Heat seeped out of his gaze, leaving his expression carefully neutral. “If I had any feelings left, I suppose they would be hurt right now,” he told her, that old familiar drawl creeping into his voice.
Karina held his gaze, trying to find any hint of the young man she’d willingly given her heart to a dozen years ago. The young man who’d strummed a secondhand guitar and sang original songs to her as she added her own harmony. The young man who’d lain beside her on the roof of his beat-up Charger, staring up at the stars as they’d shared their hopes and dreams. The young man who’d listened to her wide-eyed plans to become an opera singer, who’d offered his shoulder when her overbearing father had pulled yet another harsh stunt to pluck her fledgling wings. Where was that young man, the one who had so sweetly promised he’d be there for her, and would love her forever?
It was suddenly too much. “What happened to you?” she burst out. “Don’t I deserve to know that at least?”
“You deserve a lot more than that, Karina Armistead,” he said darkly. “But now is not the time and this is not the place. We should let our friends enjoy the success of their night.”
He gestured to the table. Karina looked up, heat staining her cheeks as she realized that they had become the center of his friends’ attention.
Macy’s fiancé, Raphael, flicked a glance at Gabriel before turning his megawatt smile on her. “Is everything all right down there, or do we need to put the Bayou Beast back in his cage?”
Gabriel remained silent, but Karina could see the tightening of his jaw. She didn’t like the way Raphael, Gabriel’s friend, called him a beast even if that was his fighting moniker. Just because she was thinking uncharitable thoughts about him at that moment didn’t mean she wanted others to.
She sent Raphael an over-bright grin. “I’m just trying to sort everyone out. It’s a small world, you know? I knew Macy all through elementary school, but I’m not sure how everyone else is connected.”
“Macy and I lived in the same neighborhood from middle school on,” Raphael explained. “I lost my mother about the same time she lost hers, and we bonded through that. As for these guys, I met them at Duparte’s Hard Knocks Gym, just like Gabriel said.”
“If I hadn’t given the gym that name before then, I sure would have changed it to that afterward,” Duparte said with a chuckle. “I never met a more stubborn trio of rabble-rousers.”
“Rabble-rousers? These three?” The beautiful brunette, Renata, gave an unladylike snort. “Somehow I find that difficult to believe.”
The sarcasm was clear in her tone. Her husband, Sebastian, laughed. “Sweetheart, you can’t talk. I knew you were trouble the moment you walked into Hard Knocks.”
“You trained there too?” Karina asked, trying to remember the details Macy had given her about her close friends after the concert.
Renata nodded. “That’s where I met my Rocky-wannabe.”
“Love at first fight,” Sebastian said easily. “Though we went our separate ways for a few hard years, we got reacquainted again earlier this year. Now we’re making up for lost time, and enjoying every minute of it.”
“Get a room, you two,” Raphael joked.
“This from the man who’s going through his own love lost and found,” Sebastian retorted.
“Yeah.” Raphael fingered one of Macy’s fiery curls as if he couldn’t bear to go long without touching her. “Better late than never.” A mischievous light filled his blue eyes. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll make it a triple play.”
Karina picked up her glass of wine to save herself from having to comment. Unless Gabriel was more talkative than she gave him credit for, none of these people, not even Macy, knew she had a history with him, and it wasn’t much of a history at that, according to him. Gabriel was playing a game and though she didn’t know what type of game it was, rekindling a teenaged romance wasn’t it.
She needed a break. “Excuse me, Macy,” she said, returning her wineglass to the table before rising to her feet. “Can you tell me where the ladies’ room is?”
M
acy rose. “Why don’t I show you?”
“I’ll come along too,” Renata said as she also stood.
Sebastian groaned. “Remember, sweetheart, I had nothing to do with it.”
“I know, babe.” Renata dropped a loud smack on his forehead. “Be right back.”
Karina found herself with an entourage as she made her way to the ladies’ room. Befitting a four-star restaurant, it boasted a sitting area with three comfortable couches in muted gold and moss green before leading into the large stall area.
Macy verified they were alone before turning to face her. “Okay, time to spill.”
“Spill what?”
“Don’t try to bluff your way out of this,” Renata said, leaning against the outer door. “I don’t know you, but I can pick up on the vibes between you and Gabriel. Let’s not forget the fact that he very loudly and publicly bid five million dollars for three dates with you. I mean, seriously—Gabriel? I know you’re a hot singing sensation and all that, but this is Gabriel we’re talking about. The Bayou Beast.”
Karina bristled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The brunette grinned. “See?” she said to Macy. “I told you there was something there.”
Karina glared at both women before carefully blanking her expression. She didn’t know this older sophisticated Macy, successful restaurateur and fiancée to billionaire Raphael Jerroult. She definitely didn’t know pushy but irreverent boxer Renata Giordano. Even though she liked both women, years in the spotlight had taught her that she didn’t spill her personal thoughts and feelings to just anyone.
“What is or isn’t between me and Gabriel will stay between me and Gabriel,” she finally said. “I agreed to donate a date to the fund-raiser. I’m going to see it through.”
“Are you sure?” Macy asked, her expression overflowing with worry. “You only agreed to one. We can’t ask you to do more than that if you don’t want.”
Take Down Page 2
