by Faye Avalon
Taking the coffee she offered, he sat and settled back in his chair. Since her hand rested on the arm of the chair inches from his, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around hers. She squeezed back, and in that moment Gabe slipped even deeper into that dark pit.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE NEXT MORNING, Maddie stumbled into the kitchen at the crack of dawn, sleepy and disgruntled, to find Gabe looking fresh and dressed with a grin on his face. “Not a morning person, are you, princess?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Maddie reached for his coffee and took two sips before handing it back to him. “I didn’t hear you complaining.”
His smug grin intensified. “Hard to complain when my mouth is doing far more pleasurable things than talking.”
Hard to complain herself when she’d woken with his mouth on her doing those pleasurable things. She’d been dreaming about lying in warm, damp sand, languid and content as a most agreeable feeling swelled between her thighs. She’d risen slowly into consciousness, smiling as she recognised what had woken her.
She didn’t open her eyes, but instead stretched her arms over her head, widened her legs a little to allow Gabe to work even more of his magic, and writhed in indolent delight.
Her climax rolled over her as his tongue flicked against her swollen clit, his finger pressing inside her and adding to the assault on her senses. It was only after he moved over her that she opened her eyes, held out her arms.
He slipped inside her easily, soon taking his own pleasure and adding to hers once more with enthusiastic and devastating skill.
“I thought you wanted an early start,” she said as her pussy muscles clenched again. “Hence the reason why I’m up before the birds.”
Settling at the breakfast bar, she made a grab for the coffee he poured. She ignored the gleam in his eye, the way he licked his lips in subtle appreciation of her skimpy attire of bra and panties. Despite her sleep-deprived state, she wasn’t averse to some subtle appreciation of her own, especially when he decorated the breakfast counter in such a wonderfully masculine and drool-worthy manner. Freshly shaven—which was kind of disappointing because she loved the way his light stubble rubbed against her skin—and wearing a navy blue polo shirt that highlighted those amazingly wide shoulders and bare forearms that rippled with exquisite muscled firmness. The colour seemed to heighten the steely grey of his eyes with their impossibly long, dark lashes.
His hot, intense gaze slid over her, reminding her, if she needed reminding, of exactly what they’d been up to most of the night. “Thought we’d wait for the commuter traffic to wind down, then head out. Can I tempt you with breakfast?”
Bloody hell. She knew exactly what he could tempt her with. “Toast will be fine.”
He turned, selected a loaf of fresh bread and began slicing. He popped four slices in the toaster, then poured them both fresh orange juice from a pitcher.
Maddie noticed the used orange halves sitting on the counter-top. “You’ve been busy.”
He shrugged and slid a glass toward her. “The juicer does all the work.” He nodded to the contraption beside the toaster. “It’s in my best interests to keep you nutritionally fortified.”
The hungry look he gave her made her shiver in all the right places and question whether she’d be able to hold off the whole day without jumping him.
“So, these properties. Where exactly are they?”
The twinkle in his eye alerted her to his having clocked the swift change of subject, and he gave her another once-over before turning to deal with the toast that had popped up from the toaster.
“One on the outskirts of Cannes, the other in the centre.” He slid two slices of toast onto a plate and handed her the jar of peanut butter. “They’ve got potential from what I can see, at least on paper. Good locations. Need a complete overhaul, maybe some extensions and alterations, but it’s hard to go wrong with property in such prime tourist areas.”
He’d barely finished speaking when his phone buzzed. He checked the screen, then stood. “I need to take this.” With which he turned and walked out into the hallway.
Maddie slathered peanut butter on her toast, thinking about the hotels Gabe wanted to view that morning. His mention of renovations brought her attention to the string of Mallory Hotels scattered throughout London. They all needed a good spruce up, too, still riding on old charm and largely patronised by seasoned guests who didn’t stay anywhere else when they came to London. She hated the thought that if she couldn’t get back control of the business, any sprucing up would come under Oscar’s domain.
If only she could step back two years. Make different decisions. Things might not have spiralled out of control. She might have read through the document her father asked her to sign, might have discovered that he needed her shares to pay off the gambling debt to Gabe. She could have tried to settle that debt in a different way, by working out some instalment deal or by offering to work for him. Something. Anything. She would have known about her father’s addiction and could have gotten him help earlier.
Gabe came back into the kitchen and placed his phone on the counter. “We just caught a break.”
Maddie’s heart jolted with anticipation. “What kind of break?”
As always, Gabe’s response was measured. “Looks like Kingston’s made a couple of bad decisions and hasn’t covered all his bases. In doing so, he’s left himself wide open to an official investigation into his affairs.”
Maddie’s initial excitement soon dissipated with the knowledge that Oscar could easily have gotten wind of Gabe’s enquiries. “What if he knows you’re on to him? He could already be taking steps to make sure all his dealings are watertight. I should be in London so I can find out what he’s doing, what he’s planning.”
“He doesn’t know we know. My guy is good at what he does.” Gabe’s fingers slid lightly over hers. “We need to sit tight and wait on more information from him.”
“How long will that be?”
“Hard to say, but he’s not the type to let the grass grow once he’s got the sniff of success.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “It could be good news.”
She knew he was trying to reassure her, but she also knew there were never any guarantees, especially where someone like Oscar was concerned. Regardless, it was impossible to diminish the ray of hope, the glimmer of light at the end of a very worrying tunnel.
“We just need to wait this out, and since we can’t do anything until we hear further, let’s head out. Take your mind off things. We’ll meet the agent at the first property, then grab lunch before heading for the second.”
Maddie’s initial enthusiasm about looking around those old properties took a nosedive. She wanted to stay put and wait on more news. Better still, she wanted to fly back to London so she could be close by just in case things went belly up.
Since neither option was on the cards, Maddie slid from the breakfast stool.
“I’ll have my cell on the whole time,” Gabe said, obviously picking up on her hesitancy. “We’ll get more information the moment it becomes available.”
Hoping that moment wouldn’t be too long in coming, Maddie nodded and headed to the bedroom to dress.
The day looked to be another warm one, so she chose a simple white tee and a straight cotton skirt that hit just above the knee. Perhaps Gabe was right, she thought as she fastened her hair back into a ponytail. There really was nothing more to do until they had further information. She wished she could accept that as easily as he did. But then, everything was black and white for Gabe. He could slip painlessly into the role of consummate businessman, assessing a situation, slotting it into a box where it was either worth deliberating on further or it wasn’t. For him it was all a case of profit and loss, spreadsheets and data gathering, investment or liability. It was simple economics.
Maddie put the finishing touches
to her outfit and went to join Gabe. He glanced up from his phone, gave her an appraising look that made her tummy flutter, then grabbed his jacket from the back of a nearby chair.
As they rode the elevator down to the ground floor, Maddie thought of her father. In the past, before his addiction took hold, Derek Mallory had earned a reputation as a shrewd, savvy and, on occasion, ruthless businessman. He was much like Gabe in that respect, and in many ways they were carved from the same rock.
The two men were intensely private individuals and had the same tendency to be secretive when it suited their interests. Getting information from either of them was often like pulling teeth.
The glaring difference was that she could never imagine Gabe putting his business at risk by gambling away his assets.
The lift doors slid open onto the foyer, and Gabe’s hand came to the small of her back. “Quit worrying,” he said, leading her through the marble-floored foyer and out into the bright Riviera sunshine. “We’ll hear as soon as there’s any more news.”
He was right, of course. Which meant she could enjoy looking around Gabe’s potential investment properties. But she was keeping her fingers well and truly crossed that during the day he’d get a phone call and the news would work in her favour.
* * *
Gabe could almost hear the cogs turning in Maddie’s brain and knew he had his work cut out in taking her mind off what was happening in London. He’d dismissed his driver for the day, preferring to drive them himself in his favourite convertible.
The apartment’s concierge brought the car around to the front of the building and had already taken the top down. With Maddie settled in the passenger seat, Gabe threw his jacket onto the back seat and climbed into the driver’s side.
Since he knew those cogs had yet to settle, he tapped his fingers to the band fastening her hair in the ponytail. “How about losing this. Let the wind in your hair and blow some of those cobwebs away.”
She reached up and covered his hand. “I don’t have cobwebs.”
With determined fingers, he loosened the band and pulled it off. “Humour me.”
“My hair’s going to be like rats’ tails by the time we get to Cannes,” she grumbled, but already he sensed a loosening of more than her blond hair, confirmed when she smiled and took the redundant band from his fingers.
“It’s beautiful.” Unable to resist, he toyed with the ends of the silky strands. “Drives me crazy.”
“It’ll be driving us both crazy by the end of the day, I can assure you.”
He laughed, pleased that she seemed to be cutting loose. “I’ll take my chances.”
After slipping on sunglasses, he gunned the engine and set off toward the harbour. He rejected taking the faster Grand Corniche to Cannes in favour of the more scenic route along the coast. The road snaked through small towns and villages that he knew Maddie would enjoy. He recalled she liked seeing new places and discovering new things, and through her eyes he’d gotten a fresh perspective of the places he usually just sped through on his way to a particular venue.
She saw things through a different lens, made him question his preconceived ideas. While his own viewpoint was largely black and white, Maddie focussed on colour. He’d learned, because of her, that colour was more than tolerable on occasions.
They drove through seaside resorts, up into hillside towns, small inlets and villages. En route, Maddie asked numerous questions about the locales, most of which he didn’t know the answer to, or she regaled him with stories and anecdotes that befitted a tourist guide book.
It dawned on him that while he’d lived most of his adult life on the French Riviera, he likely knew less about the area than most of its visitors. His excuse was that he had little time for fripperies, such as the kind of local produce particular to each locale, or how many artists in the nineteenth century had relocated to the Côte d’Azur because of the excellent light.
But Maddie knew it all. He loved listening to her, he realised as they drove through Antibes. Her mood had improved significantly since they’d left Monaco, and she seemed to be enjoying the outing.
Gabe was pleased about that. He appreciated her enthusiasm, the way she sat forward in the passenger seat each time she saw something that appealed to her. The way her eyes danced when they drove past village monuments or she spotted an especially colourful market bustling with people.
He’d been tempted to stop each time, to draw out her pleasure and watch her interact with whatever had taken her fancy, but his focus had to stay on the two hotels in Cannes. Other financiers had shown an interest, and he wasn’t about to miss an opportunity that was worthy of investment. He needed to make a fast decision. Yet since they’d made good time, he figured they could afford a stop for morning coffee.
Finding a parking spot opposite one of Antibes’s pavement cafés, he pulled in. “Antibes is a playground for the rich,” Maddie said as they walked to the café. “Which is probably why you like it.”
Pulling out her chair, he eyed her ruefully. “Is that a barb?”
She smiled. “No, just an observation. But I have to say I really like the feel of the place. It has an artistic bent to it.”
He drew up his chair next to hers, making sure their knees touched. “Maybe some of those artists you’re so fond of decided to call it home. You know, back in the dark ages.”
“Ha. As it happens, Picasso lived here for a while.”
Again, he had an overwhelming desire to say to hell with the investment hotels and just take her to visit every damn one of the locations she waxed lyrical about. If only to keep that dancing light in her pretty amber eyes. But what damn fool idea was that? This was a business trip. She was along for the ride. He had no time for fairy tales about nineteenth-century artists, or for detours to discover caves where paintings had been found that dated back to prehistoric man.
He cared little for that stuff. Had no interest in anything that didn’t turn a profit. He’d learned a long time ago that concrete goals grounded a man, gave him something solid to hold on to and helped him prosper and maintain control of his world.
Airy-fairy ideals had no place in his life. While it was interesting to listen to Maddie’s take on the fanciful, he liked to stick to cold, hard figures on a spreadsheet.
A man knew where he was with facts and figures. Gabe was far more comfortable in a boardroom than a museum.
“Are you listening?” He whipped up his chin and saw Maddie’s questioning look. “I said, you’re the one who’s looking pensive now.”
“I’m considering timescales,” he lied. “Calculating how long we’ll need at each property.”
Frowning, she fumbled around in her bag.
“Something wrong?”
“I don’t have sunglasses,” she said, still searching. “Laura obviously forgot to pack them.”
“Along with your PJs. Thank God.”
She glanced up and, seeing his grin, frowned deeper. “You’ve got a one-track mind.”
“Hard not to when I can see your nipples through that tee.”
“Keep your voice down,” she hissed, but spared a glance downward to check. “I’m wearing a bra. You can’t see anything.”
“More’s the pity.”
The waiter arrived to take their coffee order and broke up the intimate, teasing conversation. Probably just as well, seeing as he was enjoying her company a little too much. Once again, he thought about cancelling the viewings and taking the rest of the day to do touristy things that would make Maddie happy, but it didn’t take but a second to talk himself straight out of that potential minefield.
The fact they were enjoying sex—hot, steamy, exhilarating sex—had nothing to do with anything other than mutual pleasure. Anything else and he’d be sending her the wrong message. He wasn’t a hearts-and-flowers man. Definitely not a relationship type. And as for anything more? Set
tling down with one woman wasn’t on his radar. He wasn’t entirely sure he had the capability to stick with it for the long term.
In that respect, he feared he had some of his father in him. While he’d never resort to physically harming a woman, he suspected his father’s genes were in him somewhere. And hurting a woman wasn’t entirely down to a man using his fists. The absence of emotional connection and mutual support was often as damaging.
Maddie had slipped into silent contemplation of passers-by, giving Gabe the opportunity for some covert appreciation of her many assets. His gaze travelled over her face before dropping to her—sadly well-covered—breasts. His palms tingled with the memory of those breasts cupped so perfectly in his hands, her dusky nipples hard and so damned responsive to the slide of his thumbs. He looked at her legs. Slender and bare, and currently crossed one over the other, her skirt riding up to midthigh. Those legs were the ideal length to wrap around his waist, her shapely ankles locking at his back and drawing his cock deep inside her.
The rattle of cups as their coffee arrived made Gabe jolt like a schoolboy caught jerking off. His cock was happily throbbing against the zip of his trousers, and he could only be thankful his eyes were shaded when he caught Maddie’s accusing stare.
“Oh yeah,” she said when the waiter left and she lifted the cup to her lips. “A one-track mind.”
“It’s not my mind that’s the problem.” He raised his own cup. “At least not the one between my ears.”
Shit. He couldn’t keep his freaking hands off her. Even now he was mentally totting up the time before they got back to his apartment and he could fuck her.
But fucking a woman, enjoying her company, didn’t mean anything. The whole stopping-her-from-marrying-an-asshole deal had heightened things between them. Muddied the waters a little. That’s all it was. A few more days and she’d be gone. Everything would slot back into its rightful, comfortable place. Just a few more days. If his chest tightened at the thought, he could blame those muddied waters.
