That was the problem. She very much did want, her rebellious nature getting her into trouble. She’d been head over heels for eighteen-year-old Gabriel, the fallen angel with the soul of a poet. This new Gabriel, dangerous, sinful, sexy—she usually ran the other way when guys like him came calling. She wanted to know him.
“Macy, five million may be a drop in the bucket for a man like Gabriel—and both your men—but it means a lot to the girls your foundation is meant to help. How many scholarships does that five million dollars translate into?”
“Hundreds,” Macy answered, her tone reluctant.
“Exactly. Your foundation helps girls. Those girls are my primary audience. What would it look like if I reneged on the deal I very publicly agreed to?” She shook her head. “I can’t do that.”
“Thank you for thinking about the girls,” Macy said quietly. “But what about you?”
“What about me?” Karina asked, frowning.
Macy hesitated. “I’ve only known Gabriel for a few months. Though he’s best friends and partners with Renata’s husband and my fiancé, we don’t see him as much as you’d think. He still participates in sanctioned fights. But it’s an open secret that he likes to do underground fights too. The dirtier the better.”
“So you’re saying the Bayou Beast isn’t just a colorful nickname?”
“No,” Renata answered, her expression sober. “Our guys are intense, but Gabriel takes intense to a whole new level. He’s been at the top of the game for several years. He doesn’t have to get into another cage if he doesn’t want to. He sure as hell doesn’t have to do the illegal fights.”
“So why does he?” Karina asked, breaking her own rule about keeping private stuff private.
“I asked him one day,” Renata answered, her voice hushed. “Early on, before I knew any better. He does it because he likes it. The illegal fights are fun for him. Fun.”
Karina blinked. She’d seen enough of cage fighting to know it wasn’t for her. The violence exhibited had shocked her. For Gabriel to do that—to fight and be good enough to reach the top and stay there—spoke of a level of ferocity she wouldn’t have thought him capable of. What had happened to him that had turned him away from using his hands to create music to using his hands to beat people up for the fun of it?
She looked at these two women, women who were happily bound to men just like Gabriel, men close to Gabriel. She could use their experiences and their expertise. More than that, she could trust them not to go running to the press.
“I’m going through with the dates,” she told them. “I have no choice.”
“You do have a choice,” Macy interjected. “We’ll go out there right now and cancel this. Gabriel will still donate the money—even if he doesn’t, their company will.”
“That’s not what I meant. Gabriel and I have unfinished business.” She took a deep breath, then plunged ahead. “I met him when I was sixteen and he was eighteen, and for two years he was the love of my life …”
* * *
He was in trouble.
Gabriel watched Karina walk away, the sway of her hips causing the clingy little red dress she’d changed into to flutter against the backs of her thighs in a mesmerizing way. She was a woman, no longer a teenager. Trouble in a short skirt.
Raphael’s smile slipped as soon as Karina and the other women disappeared to the back of the restaurant. “Gabe, what the fuck?”
Gabriel reached for his highball. “What?”
“Don’t bullshit me,” Raphael warned. “You fly in from God knows where and throw down a million dollars—excuse me, five million—for dates with Karina? There are cheaper ways to get a date with a woman, even for someone with a winning personality like yours.”
“Not with Karina.”
“She’s not some forgettable gold digger, man,” Sebastian interjected. “The press loves her, and so do millions of people around the world. You have the reputation of being a hardass, the devil himself. They’re already calling you two Beauty and the Beast. She’s nowhere near your usual type, and if it ends badly, it could get very ugly for you.”
“Who says it’s going to end badly? It’s just three lousy dates for charity.”
Sebastian just gave him a look. Raphael snorted. “Yeah right. You wouldn’t have pulled that stunt if there wasn’t something more to it. Spit it out.”
Fuck. Why couldn’t they just let it go? “Karina and I have history,” he grudgingly told them.
“No shit.” Sebastian snorted. “What sort of history?”
Gabriel took a healthy swallow of his drink, wincing as the alcohol burned its way down his throat. “That’s between us.”
“The hell it is.” Raphael frowned. “You do realize that our ladies are currently bonding in the bathroom? Knowing Renata and Macy, they’re going to come out of there BFFs. If you make Karina unhappy, that will make Macy unhappy. If Macy’s unhappy, that will make me unhappy. I don’t want to be unhappy, Gabriel.”
“She’s going to get her five million whether I have the dates with Karina or not, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I know you’re good for the donation. That’s not what I’m talking about.” The blond man sat forward, his blue eyes cold. “I’m just wondering why you’re interested in Karina. She doesn’t seem like your type.”
“She’s got tits,” he retorted, deliberately rude. “What other type is there?”
“The ones you usually go for would burst into flames if they stepped into a church,” Sebastian told him. “Karina looks like she should be leading the choir.”
“Did she turn you down at some point?” Raphael pressed. “Is that why you very publicly bid all that money, so she couldn’t say no?”
Gabriel polished off his drink, signaled the waiter for another. “Like I said, we have unfinished business, and this is the start of finishing it.”
“Hell,” Sebastian cursed softly. “She’s the one, isn’t she? The one who got away.”
“You could say that,” Gabriel replied, biting back the rage that always boiled beneath the surface. Karina hadn’t gotten away—she’d handed him over to her father, had him driven out of town, had left him with nothing. Now he was ready to pay back in kind everything the Armistead family had done to him. Peyton Armistead had two weaknesses—his company and his daughter. Gabriel was poised to destroy the first, but not until he reclaimed the second.
“Fine.” Raphael sat back. “If that’s what this is, then fine. But if the shit hits the fan, make sure it’s pointing directly at you and only you.”
“Don’t worry,” he assured them. “I fully intend to own up to everything I do.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Two days later, Karina stood at the large window in the living room area of her hotel suite, staring out at the city below. She folded her arms across her chest in an effort to hold in the nervous excitement bubbling inside her.
Tonight was the first of three dates with Gabriel. She’d spent all of the day before with Macy and Renata, bonding through retail therapy and making the paparazzi earn their paychecks. She had to admit, going out with the other two women had been fun, and she didn’t have to worry that they were hanging out with her to up their Klout Scores or get something from her. By the time she left New Orleans, she was sure they’d truly be best friends.
After a luxurious in-suite spa treatment, she’d posted a video blog to her Web site, telling her fans about the fund-raiser in general and the charity in particular, and how she planned to have fun on the dates and explore “all that New Orleans has to offer.”
Did that include Gabriel Devereaux? That was the question on everyone’s mind, because of course her vlog got picked up by the entertainment sites as soon as she’d posted it. She’d seen the headlines screaming, “Beauty and the Beast take NOLA by Storm!”
She frowned. She hated his nickname. How anyone could call Gabriel a beast was beyond her. The man was sinfully gorgeous, a dark angel. She knew he had a good sou
l—at least he did once upon a time. It was hard to reconcile the Gabriel she’d known with the domineering cage fighter who didn’t consider a fight good unless blood was shed. She’d seen YouTube videos of his matches. He enjoyed every punch, every kick, every busted lip and broken nose given and received. As if when he stepped into a cage, he truly became the beast everyone called him.
She shivered, and not from the air-conditioning. Daniel noticed. “Are you okay, Karina?”
“Yes,” she answered, rubbing her arms. “Just a little chilled.”
“Are you sure you don’t want Henderson to come with us?” he asked, referring to her second bodyguard.
“You’re kidding, right? This is his first time home in more than a year. His mama would kill me if I jerked him out of his welcome home dinner. Besides, she’s making pecan pie and banana pudding just for us. No way am I making that woman mad.”
“I understand.”
She noticed his hesitation. “But …” she prompted.
“I’d feel better if I had some backup to protect you,” he said.
“I’m not worried about my safety, Daniel,” she told him gently.
“It’s my job to worry about your safety while you do your thing,” he replied. “This guy … there’s something about him. Something dangerous. I know you told me that you knew him back in the day, but how much has he changed since then? I don’t trust him.”
“I don’t either, but I don’t think Gabriel will hurt me.” Not physically anyway. “We negotiated the parameters of this date. It’s a very public night out on the town. You’ll be there and I’m assuming he’ll bring one of his bodyguards too. And let’s not forget the media that’s camped outside, ready to follow me as soon as I step out the door.”
She’d chosen the boutique hotel for its privacy, but it had only taken the media half a day to discover which hotel she’d chosen for her stay in New Orleans. “I said I would pull the plug if I felt uncomfortable at any time, and Gabriel agreed. He’s doing everything to make me feel comfortable with this. I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt.”
“Yes, ma’am.” It was the phrase and the tone Daniel used when he didn’t agree with her but he’d do as she wished. Most of the time she relented—he was the security expert, after all. But in this, with Gabriel, she’d go with her instinct. Not that it had done her much good when she was eighteen, but she’d matured since then. The stars were long gone from her eyes.
No, she no longer looked for Gabriel or any man to save her. White knights no longer existed. She could go on these dates with Gabriel. She could even take him to bed if she felt like it. And she would make damn sure by the end of date three that she left with her heart intact.
* * *
Gabriel knocked on Karina’s door, aware of the excess energy that surged inside him. He wouldn’t call it a case of nerves; that would be taking it too far. Anticipation felt right. It had been two days since he’d seen her, two days spent brainstorming and assuring Raphael and Sebastian—and by extension, Macy and Renata—that his intentions toward Karina were pure. Pure what, he didn’t clarify.
He wanted her. He didn’t intend to hide that fact. A man had to be on his last legs to not be aroused by her. She was hot, and that balance of innocent and jaded flipped his switch like nothing else did. It had been the same a dozen years ago. Seeing her then had been a life-changing moment. He had a feeling he was about to experience that sensation again.
The door opened, and one of her massive bodyguards glowered at him. He glowered right back. It had been years since anyone had intimidated him, and he’d be damned if he’d allow anyone to keep him from Karina.
“Daniel.” Karina’s voice rang from inside the room. “Let him in.”
Daniel stepped back. Gabriel crossed the threshold. Karina had commandeered the executive suite, an expansive two-bedroom retreat decorated in luxurious yet comfortable Art Deco style. He knew all that because the hotel was part of his real estate portfolio, but he’d save that information for later.
Karina stood in the center of the seating area. The afternoon sunlight streamed through the window behind her, haloing her sleek dark hair. She wore shimmering gold pants that left no room for underwear and a drapey navy top with gold polka dots. As he stepped closer he realized the polka dots were actually skulls. “Nice outfit,” he said, handing her the flowers. “It suits you.”
“Thank you.” She put her nose to the fragrant blooms. He had no idea what they were, but some of the flowers were the same light blue-purple of her eyes. “Suits me? How so?”
“At first glance, it’s very proper and expected,” he told her. “But on closer inspection, you realize just how edgy and flaunting convention it is. The beautiful rose has thorns.”
She gave him a considering look. “That’s me,” she said blithely. “Flaunter of conventions, bearer of thorns. We fragile flowers have to protect ourselves somehow.”
“I never thought of you as fragile. Delicate maybe—certainly more delicate than anything or anyone I’d known before. You had strength, Kari. You always did. You just exercised it in a different way.”
The declaration surprised him. Surprised her too, if the look on her face was any indication. She turned to place the floral arrangement on the table near the window, giving him a clear look at her rear view. Her shirt didn’t have a back, but draped open to the small of her back, revealing the luscious line of her spine. He was also right in that there was no way she was wearing panties under those pants.
His hands tightened with the need to touch her, to take her. God damn him straight to hell. Taking her on these dates was not the best of his ideas. He never could think straight when it came to Karina; obviously he hadn’t learned anything in the years since he’d last seen her.
“So,” she said, turning back to face him. “What are we doing tonight?”
He suppressed a sigh of relief as she reached for a short navy jacket. He stepped forward to hold it open for her. “I thought we’d start with visiting Jackson Square. It’s been a while since I’ve been there.”
“You know you’re just inviting a media frenzy if we do that.” She turned and he caught her scent, something airy with a hint of smokiness that went straight to his brain. “The sun hasn’t set on the square yet.”
He settled the jacket on her shoulders, lingering longer than wise. “In about twenty minutes, a long-haired brunette in large sunglasses is going to be seen dashing from the hotel’s front entrance and into a waiting limousine that’s going to take a leisurely ride westward in rush-hour traffic. I figure that will give us a few minutes of peace on the square.”
She laughed. “Sneaky, but I like it. So how are we going to be incognito?”
“By doing what no one expects. We’re walking to the square.” He looked at Daniel. “Only one bodyguard tonight?”
“Henny’s having dinner with his mama.”
“You’ll meet Kilgore in a few. I also have a team from DJD Security already spread out in the Quarter. If we need them for crowd control, they’ll join us in seconds. As soon as it gets to be too much, we’ll bail.”
Her smile lit almost all of the dark reaches of his blighted soul. “I think it’ll be fun to do the tourist thing. Let’s go.”
Making their way out of the hotel’s service entrance and into the heart of the French Quarter went easier than Gabriel had thought. Trusting his men to keep her safe, Gabriel allowed himself to relax and enjoy the night with Karina at his side.
Plenty of artists still packed the area surrounding the square. Karina oohed and aahed over trinkets, buying a few, and even convinced him to pose with her for a caricature. Before the artist could finish, they’d drawn a crowd. As he watched, she went from Kari to Karina, international queen of pop, hugging two preteen sisters who were nearly hysterical over meeting their idol. She obligingly posed for selfies, flashing the American Sign Language symbol for k along with her fans.
The crowd pressed in on them and his se
curity team stepped in, but not before a pimply faced male bumped a young girl, sending her sprawling. Gabriel immediately scooped her up. “Are you okay?”
The young girl, in the process of working herself up into a full howl, quieted. “My brother has a picture of you on his wall,” she said, her voice ringing over the crowd. “He says you’re mean.”
Conscious of the crowd around them, the child’s hovering mother, and Karina at his side, Gabriel managed a benevolent smile. He hoped. “I’m only mean to people who deserve it, like grown men who would knock over little girls.”
Karina stepped up to them at that moment. “Hi there. I see you met my friend Gabriel.”
The little girl’s eyes rounded as she looked at Karina. “Like the angel?”
“Exactly.” Karina grinned. “And angels aren’t mean, are they?”
“No.” She thought about it. “Unless you’re bad. I’m not bad, but sometimes my brother is.”
“Am not.” A boy of about eight piped up, and the crowd laughed, the tense moment defused. Gabriel and Karina took several pictures with the flustered but excited family. Though they hadn’t exactly been undercover, the media they’d dodged at the hotel soon descended on the square. While Karina seemed game to stay and interact with fans while ignoring the media, Gabriel quickly reached his limit. He signaled Kilgore, and they began a steady move to Decatur Street.
On cue, his limo pulled to a stop across from Café du Monde. With their bodyguards flanking them, Gabriel handed Karina into the passenger compartment, then slipped in beside her while Daniel and Kilgore took the jumper seat. He didn’t relax again until the limo pulled away, heading for Canal Street.
Kari’s bodyguard folded his arms across his massive chest. “If it’s all right with you, Ms. Karina, I’d like to make an addendum to the parameters of these dates. I want the itinerary beforehand.”
Gabriel matched the bodyguard’s flat, unfriendly stare. “Why?”
The man bristled. “You can ask me that after you nearly got her mauled?”
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