“Whoa.” Karina leaned forward. “To your corners, guys.”
Gabriel settled, but only because he was distracted by the warmth of Karina’s hand pressed against his chest. “I thought you’d enjoy seeing the artists,” he said tightly.
“I did enjoy it, and I like the caricature the guy did of you,” she said, holding up the drawing of Gabriel with angel’s wings, devil horns, a halo, and a pitchfork. “It’s a stunning likeness.”
She gave him a crooked smile. “Daniel’s in charge of my security, and he’s very good at what he does—even with someone as prone to spontaneity as I am. I would appreciate it if you’d let our security teams coordinate. I don’t want Danny bursting a blood vessel worrying about whether he can protect me or not.”
The familiar way she talked about her bodyguard scoured Gabriel. If push came to shove, he could prove in five minutes or less that he was more capable than Daniel at defending Karina from any threat. Putting the man in a submission hold wouldn’t win him any points, though, so he satisfied himself with the mental image of making “Danny boy” scream like a girl.
“I’ll take it under advisement,” he allowed. “Is it always like that for you when you’re out in public?”
“It depends on where I am. There are some cities where I can still be pretty anonymous, but the KamiKaris—that’s what my fans call themselves—they know how to find me. Most of the time they’re cool but it’s easy to get mobbed, especially when I’m overseas. I’ve been hauled up on Henderson’s shoulders a time or two.” She shifted beside him, settling into the butter-soft leather. “That doesn’t happen to you?”
“I don’t usually have mobs of kids screaming for my attention,” he said, savoring the warmth of her beside him, the subtle scent of her hair. “Usually they scream and run in the opposite direction.”
“You did very well with them.” She smiled at him, her eyes twinkling. “I think you have a new fan in little Jessica. It’ll certainly help that fearsome reputation of yours.”
“I am fearsome,” he reminded her. “Bayou Beast, remember?”
She made a face. “Don’t remind me. Anyway, this will give you some positive press and help the public see you as a nice person.”
“I’m not nice, Kari,” he told her. “You should remember that.”
“I remember when you were.”
A muscle twinged in the area where his heart used to be. “Things change. People change.”
“Not without a reason though.”
“There are always reasons.” He speared her with a glance. “Do you want to know mine?”
She stared up at him, curiosity battling with apprehension in her soft blue eyes. “Yes. I have a million and one questions churning in my gut, and it’s all I can do not to spew them out like a frat boy on Bourbon Street.”
“Nice visual. So why aren’t you asking them?”
“Because I don’t want to ruin what’s been a pretty good night so far.”
Surprise wafted through him. “You consider getting mobbed in Jackson Square a pretty good night?”
“That wasn’t a mob.” She shrugged. “We both made a few of our fans happy and no one was sent to the hospital. There’s no downside. I call that a good day.”
He turned just enough to see her full expression. “The day’s not over.”
The grin she gave him was full of sexy, teasing amusement. “I hope not. I don’t know about billionaire cage fighters, but us rock stars are night owls. I’d hate to have to kick you to the curb and go get my girls for some bar hopping.”
An image of Karina dancing on a tabletop, shaking her ass while holding a bottle of tequila in her hand flashed through his mind, sending most of his blood rushing south. “Your girls? I thought your band went home.”
“They did. I mean Renata and Macy. We’re all thirty and under. We can still hang. And Renata looks like she’s just as much of a hell-raiser as you and your friends supposedly are.”
“God, woman.” He didn’t have to fake the shudder at the idea of Karina, Macy, and Renata tearing up the town. They’d start a riot, and he, Sebastian, and Raphael would leave a string of cracked heads and broken bones in their wake. “If I want my partners to remain my friends I have to convince you how much of a bad idea that is, or keep you otherwise occupied.”
Her body sprawled across the bed in her suite as he peeled those form-fitting pants down her legs came immediately to mind. He tried to stamp it out, but he heard the soft catch of her breath as if her thoughts had gone down the drain hand-in-hand with his. “What did you have in mind?”
“Are you ready to get stuffed?”
She blinked at him, then darted a glance at their security. “What?”
“I’m talking about dinner.”
“In that case, I’ll say that I’m always ready for some good New Orleans food,” she answered, that sexy grin back in place. “Where are we going now?”
“Someplace a lot less public.” He flicked a glance at her bodyguard. “How does your man Daniel do on boats?”
CHAPTER FIVE
By boat, Gabriel meant a luxurious yacht with three decks, four staterooms, a full galley, and a crew, docked in a yacht club situated on the southern shore of Lake Pontchartrain. The captain gave them a tour while the chef finalized their meal. With their security settling into the main dining room to eat, Karina followed Gabriel to an intimate table for two on the forward deck that was partially sheltered by the wheelhouse.
She smiled as he seated her at the table draped with a gleaming white tablecloth adorned with tea lights in crystal votive holders, a trio of roses in a bud vase, and two place settings that looked to be high-end china. “Why, Mr. Devereaux, you sure do go all-out for your dates. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to impress me.”
“Maybe I am,” he said with a grin as he took the seat across from her. He was a beautiful man, his smiles like little miracles. The suit he wore draped his form, though he’d left the collar of his white shirt open. It was a nod to civility, to expectations, but also a promise that he would not be restrained.
He lifted the wine from its stand and poured her a glass. “Are you impressed yet? If not, I can try harder.”
She matched his teasing grin. “I’ll let you know after I taste the food.” Was Gabriel really trying to impress her? She felt light, giddy, and she hadn’t even sipped the wine yet. Being with Gabriel like this was what she’d wanted so many years ago, what she’d hoped they would have—happiness in their chosen professions and their life together. Life hadn’t turned out that way for whatever reason, and it sucked. She knew she should uncover that reason before these dates continued, but it was much easier to pretend that they’d simply drifted apart. Easier to pretend that they had parted as friends. Maybe it was denial, but as long as Gabriel played nice, she would relax and enjoy herself.
So caught up in her thoughts was she that she hadn’t realized the yacht was underway until the breeze picked up. “We’re moving.”
“I thought we’d take a cruise on the river for an hour or so, exercise the engines a little.”
“Awesome.” She took a sip of the marvelous wine. “Is she yours?”
“Not yet.” He paused as a crew member brought out their first course, a crawfish bisque. “I’m thinking about buying her though. It would be nice to sail out on the ocean, heading to the Caribbean or the Keys.”
“Do you slow down enough to enjoy something so sedate?” The bisque was excellent, not that she expected anything less. “I would think sports cars and jets were more your thing.”
“They are and I have both,” he admitted. “As for slowing down, what’s the point?”
“Surely you need some downtime between fights and business,” she protested. “When’s the last time you had a vacation?”
He paused, his soupspoon halfway between his mouth and the bowl as he considered her question. “I don’t think I’ve taken one since I started training for the cage. Honestly,
I wouldn’t know what to do if I didn’t have matches or business deals.”
“Is that why you still fight? To have something to do?”
The quiet server switched out their soups for salad with a spicy remoulade dressing. “Everyone needs an outlet, Kari,” Gabriel said after the server left. “Fighting’s mine.”
“But the illegal fights—” She broke off, because that wasn’t common knowledge for someone who didn’t know him well.
“Ah.” His gaze sharpened. “Should I be flattered that you were interested enough to ask my friends about me or irritated that someone tried to warn you off?”
His question scored a direct hit. “You know better than anyone that when it comes to you I make my own decisions, and to hell with the consequences,” she said, resurrected bitterness souring her taste buds. She pushed the salad away and reached for her wine. “At least back then.”
He waited for her to return her glass to the table then refilled it. “And what about now?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“You are.” He tilted his head quizzically as he regarded her, and she felt every second of his gaze on her skin as if he’d glided his fingertips down her cheek. “I wonder why.”
She gave him a grin she didn’t feel. “Because you won the bid. Why did you bid on my date?”
“I wanted to see you.”
The simple admission rocked her to her core. “You paid five million dollars because you wanted to see me. After all this time?”
“I paid five million dollars because I didn’t want you to say no, because of all this time.”
“What if I hadn’t thrown in the date when I agreed to do the benefit concert?”
He shrugged. “I would have found a way.”
“You could have just asked.”
He gave her a look of disbelief. “You would have agreed to see me?”
“Curiosity alone would have made me say yes,” she told him. “Curiosity about how much you’ve changed, how much you’ve stayed the same. I would have met for coffee at least.”
She’d thrown him, she could tell. “You’re not angry? Upset about how we ended?”
“I was,” she admitted. “For a long time. I had to let it go. Shit happens and so does life. You learn from it and you move forward because that’s the only way to survive. We’ve both gone on to have success and other partners. It’s not productive for either of us to hang on to all of that.”
“Unless we’re using the past as motivation for the present.”
She cocked her head, considering, then nodded. “You’re right. I put my heartache into song. And I suppose you were motivated to go into cage fighting.”
“Motivated.” He huffed out a dry laugh completely devoid of mirth. “You could say that.”
She’d danced right up to the edge of discussing their breakup. She wasn’t ready to revisit the agony of those early days post-Gabriel. Not if she wanted to get through two more dates with him. “See? We’ve both moved on. So much has happened since then for both of us. We’ve both triumphed. You’re in a good place, and so am I.”
The server brought another bottle of wine along with their entrees—an amazingly delicious blackened trout on sautéed spinach, red beans and rice, and an étouffée that brought tears to her eyes, it was so good. “Man, I haven’t eaten like this in years! I might not be able to shimmy out of these pants later.”
He leaned toward her, the candles highlighting his lascivious smile. “I could help you with that, if you like.”
“I haven’t had a wardrobe malfunction in five years. I think I can handle it.”
“What happened?”
She launched into a recounting of the Great Camel Toe Incident during one of her concerts that had taken her months to live down. He told her a story about how he’d flashed his junk to reporters during a weigh-in. They discovered they both had a love for Hong Kong and Sydney and a mutual hatred of brussels sprouts. As they polished off their meal they warmed to their stories, both sharing tales of overzealous fans and dangerous stalkers, catching each other up on their lives over the past decade.
With dinner done, Karina cupped her wineglass, climbed to her feet, and strolled over to the railing. Sometime during dinner they had passed through the Industrial Canal and reached the Mississippi. She leaned against the railing as she looked out over the dark rushing water and the cityscape it presented. This was a different view of the city, the industrial side that kept the wheels turning. Still, she liked it. Liked being out on the water, feeling free with the wind catching her hair. Liked being here with this man who’d changed her life forever.
Gabriel joined her as the crew went about clearing the table. “This is weird, being here with you like we’re old friends,” he admitted. “But I kinda like it.”
“We were friends,” she insisted, lightly resting her free hand against his forearm. “Then we were more, then we weren’t. Doesn’t mean we can’t be friends again.”
He tangled his fingers with hers, and she felt the contact all the way to her toes. “Just friends?” he asked, his voice barely a breath.
She’d seen pictures of him stripped down for fighting, and the images gave her a good idea of how ripped he was. He probably had scads of women throwing themselves at his feet. Though she wasn’t immune to him—after all, she had firsthand experience of just how good he could be—she didn’t plan on being a hit-it-and-forget-it woman. They’d be on equal footing with this, or it wouldn’t happen at all.
She toyed with the stem of her wineglass. “Do you remember how we met?”
He stared at her for a long moment. “We met in the park. I was playing my guitar, shilling for cash. I was doing a pretty piss-poor job of it too.”
“You were playing a song by Incubus, which is why I stopped.” She smiled. “That, and I thought you were really hot.”
“I saw a vision in a yellow sundress and red cowboy boots,” he told her. “You gave me a five-dollar bill and a brilliant smile, then asked me to play a song by Jewel.”
Warmth spread through her that he remembered so many details, details that she’d held close to her heart. “You muddled through and I sang along with you.”
“We made a killing that day.” His lips curved in a soft smile that transformed his face, and gave her a glimpse of the poetic youth she’d fallen hard for so many years before. “You were my good luck charm, Sunshine.”
Sunshine. The nickname he’d called her the first three days they’d met in the park to perform, until she’d finally introduced herself. She’d been bowled over by his dark good looks and soul-deep eyes. She’d had a thing for guitarists ever since.
“I know I keep dancing around the elephant in the room,” she told him. “But if it’s all right with you, I want to put off revelations until later, maybe after the third date. These dates are for a good cause. We shouldn’t spoil them by bringing up the past.”
“You want a truce?”
“If you want to call it that, then yes.” She turned to face him. “I want a fantasy. You’re just a guy, I’m just a girl, and we’re just having fun.”
That dark gaze assessed her. “If we’re just having fun, I want a kiss.”
“A kiss?”
“Just a kiss.”
That was the problem. With Gabriel, it had never been just a kiss. It had been a transcendent experience.
She returned her wineglass to the table then faced him. “Okay.”
Air caught in her throat as he moved toward her, his steps sure as the boat surged through the water. A warm breeze tousled his hair and as it fell over his eyes in a thick wave she was painfully, utterly reminded of the beautiful boy who’d captivated her sixteen-year-old self, who’d made her a woman on her eighteenth birthday, who’d broken her heart before she saw nineteen.
He must have seen the memories in her eyes. His expression softened as he lightly touched her cheek. “Kari,” he whispered. “Sweet Kari. Too sweet for someone like me, but I want a taste anyw
ay.”
She expected him to immediately claim her mouth in a demanding kiss, but he didn’t. Instead, he pressed his body against hers, his heat and his scent wrapping around her. He … nuzzled her, rubbing his cheek along hers the way an affectionate cat would. This cat wasn’t domesticated though, but a wild beast calling to the wildness in her. She answered, her body thrumming with need, with desire for him. The press of their bodies revealed just how much he wanted her, and her breath caught at the blisteringly sharp imprint of his body in all its glory.
“Gabriel,” she breathed, voice ripe with hunger she could no longer hide. Crazy that she could want him like this with so much left unsaid between them, with so much history that needed to be reconciled. It had always been this way with Gabriel, this instant, this demanding, this constant.
He shifted his hand from her cheek to the nape of her neck as his mouth slowly, finally melded with hers. Yes! God, yes! Her body exulted as time and distance crumbled and her awareness of him reconnected. She parted her lips, welcoming his tongue. Welcoming him home.
His wine-flavored taste burst on her lips, invading her senses. He continued the thorough domination, conquering with lips and teeth and tongue until she was breathless, intoxicated, needy. He ended the kiss just as slowly as he’d begun, yet she could tell by his ragged expulsion of breath that she wasn’t alone in her reaction.
“The temperature’s dropping,” he said, taking a step back from her. “For both our sakes, we should join the others in the dining room for dessert.”
He held out a hand and she took it, gathering herself piece by shattered piece as he led her back to the dining area.
He’d taken down her defenses with just one date, just one kiss. They had two dates to go. How was she going to hold out against Gabriel’s sensuous charm? More importantly, did she want to?
CHAPTER SIX
Karina walked in dangerous territory, but couldn’t bring herself to mind. The first date with Gabriel had been more amazing than she’d expected. The kiss … she’d never been kissed like that. Thirty-year-old Gabriel had definitely improved over his eighteen year-old self in numerous ways. Her fertile imagination conjured up all sort of possibilities of what could happen between them now.
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