Rescue Me

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Rescue Me Page 2

by Faye Avalon


  “I could make you get out of the car,” he said, battening down his inappropriate arousal. “Maybe even put you over my shoulder if I need to.”

  She whipped her gaze back to his. “Huh. You can try, but I’ll bring the whole airport running with the noise I’ll be making.”

  “Not if I gag you first.” Her eyes went wide, but he didn’t see fear—he saw excitement. “You’re not completely averse to that, as I recall.”

  Her cheeks flushed, her breasts rising and falling as her breathing picked up. He was having trouble with his own damn breathing, and his cock went rock-hard now, pressing painfully against his fly.

  “Hard to forget, isn’t it?” He didn’t know why he was baiting her, tormenting himself. The answer throbbed in his trousers. “You weren’t able to scream. And boy, did you love to scream. Especially when I went down on you. Couldn’t get enough of that, could you, princess?”

  Pink slashed high across her cheekbones. “I don’t recall you being especially silent on occasions,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Especially when I had your cock in my mouth. Couldn’t get enough of that, could you, lover?”

  His breathing lodged in his throat, his trousers growing unbearably tight. He curled his fingers deep into the soft leather upholstery, when really he wanted them curling around her. He wanted his hands, his tongue and his cock on her. In her. Every damn thing. Every damn where.

  “Maddie...”

  “I hope you’ve got a good lawyer, because you’re going to need one when I’m done pressing charges for kidnapping and molestation.”

  “I haven’t touched you.” He let that hang in the air. “And I’m not going to touch you...unless that’s what you want.”

  She turned her head away, but he held her chin between his fingers, bringing her back to face him. “You’re getting on that plane.”

  She stared back at him. “Looks like you’ll have to make me, then, doesn’t it? But let me warn you, I can scream loud enough to alert most of London. Being abducted on the way to your wedding can do that to a girl.”

  “Give it a rest. You weren’t going through with it out of choice.”

  Her mouth dropped open, but she quickly closed it.

  No argument? He took it as a sign of progress. For now. “Okay, so this is what we’re going to do. We’re getting out of this car and walking over to the plane. Got that?”

  She brushed her tongue along her lower lip, making his cock throb. “I have to wonder why you’re doing this. What’s in it for you?”

  The six-million-dollar question.

  “Get on that plane and maybe you’ll find out.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  GABE LED MADDIE to the centre of the cabin and indicated one of the cream-coloured leather chairs.

  “Make yourself comfortable. We’ll be leaving shortly.”

  She stood where she was. It was hard to ignore, let alone deny, the heady thrill of freedom that came with getting on the jet, the joy of being whisked away and not having to go through with the marriage to Oscar.

  Except her escape brought with it a whole new set of problems. Not just the consequences of her failure to marry, but more troubling was being with Gabe again. Could she handle it? Would she be able to protect herself from getting hurt this time?

  Gabe moved closer until his hand brushed the back of hers. “Maddie?”

  “You haven’t told me where we’re going. I ought to know where I’m being taken.”

  “You know where.”

  She swallowed and took a steadying breath, not entirely sure what unsettled her most. The thought of heading back to Monaco? Or because Gabe was standing right up close and personal. “Why are we going there?”

  He hesitated, then took a step back. “It makes things easier.”

  “What things?”

  “I’ll tell you when the time is right.”

  “You said you’d tell me if I got on the plane. Well, I’m here. So tell me.”

  “You’re not ready to know just yet.” He strode down the cabin toward the cockpit. “Buckle up.”

  God. The man was insufferable. The epitome of arrogance.

  Irritated, Maddie considered making a dash for it, but she’d delayed too long, and the steward closed and secured the cabin door. Briefly, she wondered what story Gabe had spun the crew about a strange woman in full wedding regalia joining him on the flight to the Côte d’Azur. But she knew only too well how easily he could lure people into believing just about anything, since she’d been a victim of that charm offensive herself.

  She sat with some reluctance, still questioning her decision to get on the plane. Gabe strolled back, slipping out of his jacket and throwing it across the back of a chair before sitting opposite her.

  She wasn’t going to watch as he yanked off his tie and undid the top buttons of the crisp white shirt. She didn’t want to remember the silky strands of chest hair visible from that sexy V, nor did she want to recall the way his forearms rippled when he rolled up the cuffs of his shirtsleeves.

  “Like what you see?”

  Maddie looked up and found Gabe watching her, a knowing smile on his sumptuous lips. She hated that he’d caught her staring. Hated her own weakness that she couldn’t seem to help it.

  “Not particularly,” she lied. “I don’t find pseudo-macho displays appealing.”

  “Nothing pseudo about it. You’re here, aren’t you? Sitting in my chair, on my aircraft, at my pleasure.”

  “Well, enjoy it while you can, because by now my fiancé will have alerted the authorities to my disappearance. When he discovers what’s happened he’ll have your guts for garters, and I’ll enjoy watching him strap them on.”

  “Please. Oscar Kingston couldn’t organize the proverbial piss-up in a brewery unless there’s a few million bucks riding on it.”

  “Well, if there were a few million bucks riding on anything, I’d imagine you’d be right there at the starting gate.” She considered him. “Is that what this is all about? Money?”

  “Like I said, I’m saving you from making a big mistake. You might want to buckle up.”

  Maddie realized they were taxiing out onto the runway, and her already unsteady stomach gave a nauseous roll. Once they were airborne, there was no going back. The wedding would be well and truly off. Cancelled. Oscar would go through with his plans.

  Unless...

  “Let me borrow your phone. I want to call Oscar.”

  “In your dreams.”

  She waggled her fingers. “Then let me call my father.”

  “If you don’t buckle up, you won’t be calling anyone.”

  Maddie fastened her seat belt—physically and metaphorically—and stared Gabe down. “Even criminals get a phone call.”

  “Maybe you’ll get one, too. Later.”

  “My dad will be worried.”

  Gabe’s grey eyes narrowed, his gaze unwavering as he locked it on her. He drew in a breath. “He knows you’re okay.”

  Her heart thumped. “How does he know that?”

  “Because I called him this morning. Now, why don’t you relax? As soon as we’re—”

  “You called him?” Maddie’s pulse kicked hard. “To say what?”

  “That you’d decided not to go through with the wedding, and you were coming to stay with me until the fuss died down.”

  Her thoughts took on a frenzied path as the aircraft soared into the skies. Her father didn’t know about the deal she’d made with Oscar. As far as her father knew, it was a love match.

  She shook her head, feeling the ridiculous veil wobble as it maintained its tenuous grip. It seemed to symbolise this whole situation. “I spoke to my dad this morning. He won’t believe I’ve changed my mind.”

  “Your dad’s not a stupid man. Don’t think he won’t have seen through your little charade.”
<
br />   Before Maddie could challenge that, the aircraft levelled out and the steward came into the cabin carrying wine in a cooler with two crystal glasses.

  Absently, Maddie watched the man pour their drinks. Was Gabe right? Had her father worked out the real reason for her marriage? And what about Gabe? How did he know it was all a charade?

  When the steward left, she pounced. “You have no bloody right to interfere with my plans, and you have no right to go bothering my father. My life is none of your business. You don’t know anything about it.”

  “I know the reason you’re marrying Kingston is to get back controlling shares in Mallory Hotels.” He steepled his fingers and gave her an assessing look. “How was that going to work, princess? How long do you think it would take before word got around that you’d basically sold yourself for a few shares?”

  She glared at him, hating the way he spelled it out so graphically, and hating even more the infuriatingly sexy stubble that shadowed across his firm jawline, making her remember how it felt to have him kiss her. “You’ve got a bloody nerve. Insinuating my reasons are tacky while yours are entirely altruistic? Give me a break. There must be some financial advantage for you in all this. Some deal you’ve made.”

  His eyes flashed grey steel then, cool as you please, he picked up his glass. “Like what?”

  “You tell me. I’ll bet anything that there’s profit in it for you.” She was distracted for a moment by the way his throat contracted as he sipped his drink, until the thoughts that had been slowly forming burst through with vicious intent. She leaned forward, her fingers curling around the arms of the soft leather seat. “If you’ve done anything to hurt my dad, so help me I’ll swing for you hard.”

  “If things go to plan, he’ll be laughing all the way to the bank.”

  The throbbing in Maddie’s temples intensified. Her father wasn’t in any position to make deals, not with Gabe or anyone else. Oscar held the sixty percent controlling share in Mallory Hotels, and she held the rest.

  Unless... “Are you planning to grab what’s left of Mallory’s? Got your sights set on the remaining forty percent? Is that what this is all about?”

  Again, steel flashed in his eyes then disappeared as fast as it had come. “You’re way off, princess. Right now, you’re the only one making deals.”

  “Which you’ve cocked up.”

  He shrugged and picked up his glass again. “One day you might just thank me for sweeping in on my white charger and saving you from a fate worse than just about anything you can imagine.”

  “Please. Being here with you right now ticks that particular box. And I can’t imagine any circumstance where I’d need your brand of saving. In fact, after what you did, the only person I’d need saving from is you.”

  He sipped his drink, making her pulse quicken as he looked at her with those lethal eyes. “You should learn to forgive and forget. It’ll stop those little lines forming between your eyes.”

  In reflex, Maddie touched the spot he’d referred to before dropping her hands down to her lap again. She couldn’t afford to forget, or forgive. Two years ago, she had taken her eye off the ball. She’d been too infatuated with Gabe when she should have been looking out for her father. She should have spotted his growing fondness for gambling and stepped in to take control of the situation. Instead, her distraction had allowed Gabe to trick them both.

  “I prefer to learn and remember.” She brushed strands of hair back from her forehead. “It’s safer that way.”

  With another sip of his drink, he glanced down to her left hand and back to hold her gaze. “Where’s the ring? I would have expected a huge flashy diamond by way of Kingston staking his claim.”

  “I didn’t want a ring. And I’m nobody’s claim.”

  He shrugged. “Even a marriage of convenience needs some fripperies to make it look authentic.”

  Why did he have to make it sound so grubby? She preferred to think there was a certain nobility in what she’d agreed to do, but he brought it all down to a base level.

  “Convenience is as good a reason as any to tie yourself up with a man.”

  “You’ve gotten cynical.”

  She took a swig of her own drink, hoping it would salve her dry throat. “I prefer realistic.”

  He drew in a long breath, bringing her attention to the breadth of his chest as it expanded beneath his shirt. Snapping off his seat belt, he stood. “Hungry?”

  “No, I’m not fucking hungry.” Irritation warred with anger, which mixed headily with frustration.

  “Your language is pretty ripe, princess. It doesn’t become that virginal little outfit you’re wearing.”

  The dress felt like a strait-jacket now, tightening around her ribcage with each mile they flew farther away from London. She snapped off her seat belt, reached up and ripped off the stupid tiara along with the recalcitrant veil. “Well, we both know different, don’t we?”

  He had the grace to look momentarily peeved, then a rakish smile stretched across his mouth. “And you loved every minute.”

  God. She had. Every single hot and hormone-rattling moment. He’d brought out some kind of sex-crazed woman she hadn’t been aware lived inside her, and nobody else had come close to resurrecting that part of her since. She’d reconciled herself to the thought that maybe she’d fallen so hard for Gabe because he’d been so incredibly good at sex. No other man made her feel a fraction of the intensity she’d enjoyed with Gabe.

  “I won’t insult us both by trying to insinuate that I didn’t enjoy sex with you. And I’m not bolstering your ego, because it’s already floating amongst the planets. I’m simply stating a fact.”

  Now his smile positively flashed, sexy and wicked.

  She turned away from his sinfully handsome face, already out of sorts without adding her physical reaction to Gabe to the mix.

  Her breathing deepened, a surge of desire smouldering through her veins. If the damn dress got any tighter around her chest, she would likely collapse from lack of air. Which reminded her...

  “What happens when we land? Am I expected to parade around Monte Carlo looking like some crazed reject from Bridezilla?”

  “Now, there’s a thought.”

  “Considering all this must have been planned, I assume you took into account that I’d need a change of clothes.”

  “Of course.”

  She huffed. “What? Did you break into my apartment and rifle around in my wardrobe?”

  “As much fun as rummaging around in your underwear would be, I didn’t choose that particular route.” His raunchy grin made her stomach flutter ridiculously. “Why don’t you go change before we land?”

  She stood, gathering up her skirts. He gave her a quick once-over, an appreciative gleam lighting his eyes. “Want me to unzip you?”

  The question zoomed her back two years to when he’d first undressed her. Slowly. She’d been incredibly nervous for some reason, but after they’d made love, she’d barely made it out of his bed for the whole week.

  Best to cut off that particular line of thought before it led her down the road to emotional ruin. “I think you’ve done enough, thanks. I don’t want you doing anything for me. Except to give me a phone, lend me some money and hand over my passport, which I assume you have, since I’m not sure even you can wangle your way through airport security without one.”

  “I needed to get you away. It’s for your own good, Maddie. You’ll soon see that.”

  She chose not to respond to that, since she couldn’t do anything thousands of feet in the air. Once they landed, she would get back control of the situation.

  The prospect of that renewed her energy levels, but for effect she subjected him to a steady glower, then turned toward the back of the plane.

  “First door on the left.”

  She resisted the urge to flip him the finger and instea
d gathered up her skirts and walked, as dignified as she could, toward the bathroom.

  Inside she slid the lock and looked around. Marble sinks and surrounds, gleaming steel fittings—nothing less would satisfy someone of Gabe’s exacting tastes. Heeling off her shoes, she sighed as her feet touched the cool marble-tiled floor. After wriggling her toes, she reached around and unhooked the catch on the dress. With some difficulty she managed to get the zipper down, slipped the dress over her hips and stepped out. It felt so good to be out of that damn dress.

  She looked around, searching for the change of clothes Gabe had arranged. Finding nothing hanging up, she went to the floor-to-ceiling cupboard in the corner and found that empty, too.

  A tap sounded at the door.

  Since she was in her underwear, she grabbed a nearby towel and wrapped it around herself. “What?”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Where’s that change of clothes you said you had for me?”

  “Open the door.”

  Which probably meant he was about to give them to her. She tightened the towel, clung to the fastening between her breasts and slid open the lock. Teasing open the door a measly few inches, she stuck her free hand through and grabbed hold of what he offered before slamming the door shut again.

  Stepping back, she held out the fabric and recognised a man’s white linen shirt. “Is this supposed to be funny?” She crumpled the shirt in her hands. “You said you had fresh clothes for me.”

  “That shirt’s fresh. Cleaned and pressed.”

  She barely resisted the urge to scream out her frustration, but that would give him exactly what he wanted. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Since she had no intention of getting back into the wedding gown, which was strewn on the floor where she’d left it, she held up the shirt and gauged that it would at least cover the essentials. Since he was playing her, she would return the compliment. “Do you have a spare belt?”

  “Belt?”

  “Yeah. If I’m going to wear this shirt in public, it needs a belt. Something to make it look chic.”

  It was hard to resist smiling at the sound of his muffled curse. Spurred on by the feel-good factor of having him on his back foot, she stepped closer to the closed door.

 

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