adrian-run-to-you-v1

by Lara Adrian

  All I know is that I want more.

  More of this kiss . . . and more of this man.

  He growls against my lips, then breaks contact on a jagged curse. His hands slide away from my neck. As if he’s not yet ready to let me go, one thumb brushes over my wet bottom lip as he stares at me through darkened, stormy hazel eyes.

  “Fuck.” He grits the word out harshly, drawing back and raking a hand through his short brown hair.

  I stare helplessly, shocked with the depth and intensity of my need.

  Gabe takes another step away from me, his face rigid, jaw clenched. Then he turns, his long stride carrying him to my closed office door. He pauses there, swiveling to give me one last look.

  “Do us both a favor,” he tells me in a roughened voice as he grabs the handle. “Don’t ever talk to me about honor again.”

  8

  ~ Gabriel ~

  Two days later, as I sit in my office writing up notes from a security walk-through of a Baine property in SoHo, the memory of that kiss still smolders on my lips. And that’s nothing compared to the other parts of my anatomy that continue to crave Evelyn Beckham to the point of maddening distraction.

  I can’t say I didn’t know the kiss was a mistake. I knew damn well it was, even as I reached for her and crushed my mouth against hers. Now, neither of us should have any doubt.

  Honor, she said?

  Christ.

  I thought I had a little before I met her, but all it took to incinerate it was the feel of her hand against my cheek in the dark outside the boutique. Her tender, yet uninhibited, touch that night awakened more than the blunted nerve endings in my shrapnel-shattered face.

  I tried to deny it--to myself, at least. But that lie blew apart as I stood in my shower that same night, stroking my cock under the hot spray while remembering the soft warmth of Evelyn’s fingertips on my skin, her bold green eyes conveying the invitation she didn’t seem quite ready to speak aloud.

  And thank God for that.

  If she had said anything--if she had tested me with anything more than that gentle touch--I would have made good on the threat I issued in her office the next day. The two of us, naked and sweaty, in the nearest location we had to go to make that happen.

  The hell of it is, I still want that.

  I want her like I haven’t wanted anyone in a long damn time.

  Not simply lust. That much I could handle. That much I could extinguish elsewhere, with any of the nameless, faceless women who’ve served to numb me from all of my various pains since I returned home from the war.

  Evelyn’s touch--and, now, that stupid, stolen kiss--has aroused a yearning in me that goes deeper than physical. And that makes her dangerous. Not only to the job that demands my attention and discipline, but to the friends whose trust I cannot--and will not--fail.

  Since I’ve proven to myself that I can’t rely on honor, or even duty, to steer me in the right direction where she’s concerned, I’ve decided the best tactic is avoidance. Although I’m struggling with that too. I’ve avoided the urge to turn the internet inside out looking for intel on Evelyn’s life in the spotlight, if barely. But fortunately, no one other than me is privy to the number of times I’ve checked L’Opale’s parking lot video feeds to look for her vehicle. I’ve lost count of how often I’ve reviewed the recorded footage, watching to confirm that she’s arrived and left safely from the shop.

  Purely from a security monitoring standpoint, of course.

  Fuck, the last person I’m going to convince of that is myself.

  I shake my head and put my focus back where it belongs, on the report I want to have in Nick and Beck’s hands before the end of the day. I’ve been busting my ass, working a lot of overtime this week, trying to wrap my arms around my new role and responsibilities. Part of the job has been hiring added staff to the team here at Baine International’s headquarters.

  One of those new recruits, a fellow veteran I met last year in physical therapy, knocks her left hand on my open door.

  “Pardon the interruption, sir.”

  “What’s up, O’Connor?” I glance at the petite strawberry-blond who’d served in Iraq as an army MP around the same time I was in Afghanistan. Kelsey O’Connor might have come home and joined a police unit Stateside after her recovery, but the loss of her right arm from hand to elbow and most of her right leg limited her job options. She was elated with my offer of a spot on the Baine security team. “And you can stop calling me sir. I’m Gabe, same as I’ve been since those months we spent together in PT at Walter Reed.”

  She gives me a crisp nod. “Thanks, Gabe. I just wanted to make sure it was okay if some of us head out for a quick bite for lunch?”

  “That time already?” I stand up from my desk and walk around it. “Yeah, go on. You mind bringing something back for me? Any kind of sandwich would be great.”

  “Sure, no problem.” I hand her some money for my food and she glances at me as we walk out of my office, heading for the spacious lobby of the sleek Baine tower. “Are you coming to tomorrow’s game?”

  If there’s a wheelchair basketball game tomorrow night at the veterans center, that means today must be Friday. I’m taken aback to realize how fast the week has gone. And now I’m reminded of a different weekend obligation I’d give anything to avoid. “Gonna have to miss the game. I’ve got a cookout at my folks’ place tomorrow. Big party for Shane’s promotion to commander.”

  She smiles, aware of some of the strife that exists between me and my old man. “I’m glad to hear you’re going to spend a little time with your family. Broken fences shouldn’t stay that way forever. Sooner or later, someone’s got to be willing to mend them.”

  I grunt. “That some kind of home improvement show life logic you’re hitting me with, O’Connor?”

  She laughs. “Hey, don’t knock my guilty pleasures. Everyone has a vice or two.”

  Don’t I know it. If I’m not careful, I’ll have to add the name Evelyn Beckham to my list.

  O’Connor walks beside me in silence for a beat. “So, is Jake going to be at the cookout too?”

  “I have no doubt.” I swivel a questioning look at her. “Why?”

  “No reason, really. Just wondering.”

  If we weren’t already in the lobby, I’d probe for a better answer than that. Although O’Connor’s slight blush tells me all I need to know. No way. The last thing I want to think about is my older brother, the unapologetic player, getting within striking distance of a sweet girl like Kelsey O’Connor.

  As she and I approach the desk we find the two other fresh hires waiting there, chatting with Luis, whom I’ve promoted to my old post full-time. As O’Connor and I approach, Nick’s limousine rolls up to the curb outside and he exits the backseat of the black vehicle along with Beck.

  “Holy shit,” one of the new guys murmurs beside me. “Dude, that’s Dominic Baine.”

  I smile at the unvarnished awe in that simple statement. I get it, even though I’ve gotten accustomed to breathing the same air as the almost legendary corporate titan I call a friend. I glance at O’Connor and the others who’ve only been on board for a couple of days. “Look sharp. You’re about to meet the boss.”

  Nick and Beck stroll into the lobby, wrapping up a conversation that has both of them chuckling. I stand with the new members of my team and give the two executives a nod in greeting.

  “Afternoon, everyone,” Nick says, his sharp blue eyes traveling from me to the group all standing at attention. “These must be the latest additions to Baine’s security team, Gabe?”

  I incline my head. “Dominic Baine, Andrew Beckham, I’d like to introduce Kelsey O’Connor, Joe Rodriguez, and Mitch Hawkins.”

  “Welcome to Baine International,” Nick says, smoothly shaking O’Connor’s prosthetic hand first, then moving on to greet the others.

  Beck follows suit, and for a couple of minutes the two men engage the new hires in easy conversation about their first days on the job and offer them
suggestions for the best lunch places nearby.

  After O’Connor and the others head out to eat, Nick claps me on the shoulder. “Great work on the security assessments this week, Gabe. Damn, I wish I’d had you on the team years ago.”

  “Thanks,” I reply. “I’m just glad to be part of the team now. I’m happy to be of use any way I can.”

  Beck gives me a wry grin. “You may have spoken too soon.”

  “We’ve just returned from the youth recreation center in Chelsea,” Nick says.

  I nod. “I know the one.”

  It’s a new property under the Baine umbrella of real estate holdings in the city, a spacious community campus that Nick conceived of and built for a neighborhood without a lot of resources. Not with any intent to turn a profit, but because it gave him personal satisfaction. He created the rec center because it was a good thing to do, the right thing to do. And I know from talking with him that the Chelsea center is only the first of many he plans to build.

  “The security system for Chelsea is top-notch,” I remark. “I didn’t note a single element in need of improvement. Unless you’re about to tell me I missed something.”

  “No, your report covering the center was spot-on,” Nick says, then a smile tugs at the edge of his mouth. “How do you feel about zoos?”

  I stare at them both. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

  Beck chuckles. “Lions, tigers, bears. You know, the usual. Plus, a bouncy house and a couple hundred screaming kids along with their parents.”

  “Still clear as mud,” I reply, obviously missing the joke here.

  Nick rubs his hand over his beard-shadowed jaw. “The rec center was supposed to be hosting its first family picnic tomorrow at one of the kiddie amusement parks in Brooklyn. We’ve had the whole place reserved for months, but now there’s some rain in the morning forecast and that means most of the rides will be closed.”

  “Not good news for the kids.”

  “No,” Beck agrees. “But the park is within the terms of their contract with us. Actually, they could shut the entire park down for the day if weather is a concern.”

  “Right,” Nick says. “So, rather than risk any disappointment, we’re moving the whole event to a new venue instead. I managed to persuade the Bronx Zoo to take us on short notice.”

  I give a low whistle. “I’ll bet that didn’t come easy.”

  “Or cheap,” Beck adds.

  Nick shrugs. “It’ll be worth it to every one of those kids. But that means a lot of scrambling to get provisions in place on less than twenty-four hours’ notice. I’ve pulled a few favors from friends to provide catering and entertainment, so we’re covered on that front. There are still a few things left to arrange.”

  “How can I help?”

  He slants me an apologetic look. “I hate to chew into your weekend, especially considering all of the hours you’ve already put in this week--”

  “You need me, I’m there.” I don’t need anything more. My offer is sincere, and it’s not even about wanting an excuse to skip the family cookout in Bayside. I know how much the rec center and the kids mean to Nick, so if he wants me to lend a hand in some way, it’s the least I can do.

  “Think you can round up half a dozen security team members to work the event tomorrow? It’ll be paid overtime, of course. Plus a bonus for everyone in appreciation for the last-minute assist.”

  “Consider it done.” I nod, already forming the list of names in my head.

  “No suits or visible holsters, Gabe. I want plain clothes on everyone, and service weapons concealed. You and the rest of your team need to blend in. These kids see enough law enforcement patrolling around their homes and schools. Tomorrow is all about showing them a good time in a safe, comfortable environment.”

  “Sounds like a plan. What time would you like us to be there?”

  “Setup will start first thing in the morning, but security won’t need to be in place until about an hour before the families are scheduled to arrive. If you can see that everyone is at the venue by ten o’clock, that would be great.”

  “All right. We’ll see you then.”

  “Thanks, man.” Nick reaches for my hand and clasps it the way he might over beers at a bar, not as my employer. “I know it’s a big favor to ask, and I really appreciate that you always have my back.”

  “Anytime. It’s no problem at all.”

  I say that with total conviction, even though it does pose something of a problem for me. A personal one. Because now I have the dubious obligation of calling my mother and Shane to let them know I won’t be making the family gathering.

  I can almost hear my old man’s scorn already. But, hey, what the hell? He’s always looking for another reason to despise me. Why should I let the son of a bitch down now?

  9

  ~ Evelyn ~

  “What do you think of the fit?” I place the final pin, then step off the dais in one of the private, mirrored dressing rooms at L’Opale to allow Avery Ross to see herself for the first time in the balconette bra and panties I designed for her.

  For a long moment, she doesn’t speak. I send an anxious glance at my seamstress, Jane. The stocky, gray-haired woman is a master at her craft, and until this second I didn’t have a single doubt that our newest client was going to love this preliminary look at the romantic, yet utterly sexy, ensemble. Now, I hardly know what to make of her prolonged silence.

  “The antique-pink Leavers lace is handmade in a little shop near Calais, France,” I tell her. “The silk ribbon is only tacked on for now. Jane will adjust everything to your measurements today, so if there is anything you’d like to change or revisit at another fitting before we finish this set--”

  “No.” Avery’s voice is soft, almost a whisper. She slowly shakes her head, her long blond hair sifting around her bare shoulders and the delicate, pleated straps of the bra. “Evelyn, Jane . . . it’s absolutely perfect. Please, don’t change a single stitch on either piece.”

  Oh, thank God. “I’m so glad you’re happy with them.”

  She turns away from the mirrored walls, her smile beaming as she looks at Jane and me. “I feel like a princess. Your work--both of you--is amazing. Every woman should be able to feel this beautiful and sexy at least one time in her life.”

  I can’t help but agree. Every time I design an expensive, bespoke piece of lingerie like the ones Avery is wearing, I wish I had the means to create this kind of magic for every woman. And I can’t deny that so often, I wish my designs weren’t reserved exclusively for flawless bodies and limitless bank accounts.

  But right now, nothing can diminish the satisfaction I feel at seeing Avery so openly delighted with what I’ve created for her.

  She glances at the mirrors once more, smoothing her palm over the sheer floral lace and the delicate cups that lift her breasts like bonbons. “Nick’s going to lose his mind when he sees me in this. I can’t wait to see his reaction.”

  I smile. “If you like this one, I think you’re really going to love all of the other sets we’re working on.”

  “I’m sure I will.” She turns to let me carefully unhook the bra for her, then she steps off the dais and enters the changing stall. From behind the closed door, she asks, “How long before I can take this one home with me?”

  I glance at Jane in question.

  Lips pursed, she gives a small wave of her hand. “The original measurements I took were nearly perfect,” she says, without a trace of humility, something I’ve come to expect and appreciate from the older woman. “So, to finish the work shouldn’t take me long. If I start immediately, I’m sure I can have it ready in the morning.”

  “Thanks, Jane. If you like, Avery, I would be happy to swing by tomorrow and hand deliver the finished pieces to you at your home.”

  “No, I couldn’t ask that of you.” Soft rustles sound as she takes off the lingerie and puts on her own undergarments and clothing. “Besides, I’ll be at an event in the Bronx all day with Nick. We
’re hosting a big outing for the kids and families who are part of the youth recreation center in Chelsea.”

  I’m familiar with the project she mentions. While Dominic Baine had eschewed a lot of the publicity surrounding his generous gift to the community in the months since it opened, the rec center hit the press with a splash. Success stories about the kids it serves and the people who have benefitted from Nick’s generosity continue to run on local news and internet articles on a regular basis.

  “The original plan for tomorrow was bumper cars and Ferris wheels at an amusement park,” Avery says. “Nick just informed me about an hour ago that he had to change the venue. So, now we’ll be hosting the party at the zoo instead.”

  “That sounds even better to me. I used to love going to the zoo when I was a kid.”

  “Would you like to come?” She walks out of the dressing room wearing jeans and heels and a gray silk blouse. The bra and panties are folded neatly in her hands. She thanks Jane as the seamstress takes the pieces and shuffles out of the room. “A few of my friends are going to be there too. Why don’t you join us, if you don’t have other plans?”

  “I don’t have plans,” I admit, and after a stressful week--topped off by a kiss that’s left me breathless and utterly confused even two days after Gabriel Noble stalked out of my office--the thought of spending a Saturday afternoon in one of my favorite childhood places seems like exactly the kind of escape I need. “All right. I’d love to come.”

  “Great,” Avery says. “The event starts at eleven, but we’ll be there early, so stop by the park anytime. You can text me when you arrive and I’ll make sure you can find me.”

  “Okay. Shall I bring the finished lingerie with me?”

  She grins. “You’d better not. If Nick realizes what it is, he won’t stop until he’s got me in it, no matter where we happen to be. And then he’ll be unbearable until he gets me out of it.”