by Jane Henry
“I always insist I have a quiet place to go to if necessary. Darius is excellent about providing a little area just like this.”
She sighs and yawns. “This is perfect. It gets almost… suffocating in there.”
I nod. “Tell me about it. And this is one of the better ones, a lot more room to spread out than in some of the more remote parts of France.”
I sit in one of the large armchairs, reach for her hand, and tug her onto my lap. She sits heavily with a little oof, and I quickly nestle her up against me.
“I’d love to join you in France some day,” she says, her eyes a little dreamy and unfocused, and I’m not sure if it’s from the champagne or her daydreams. Maybe a little bit of both.
I nod. “You’ve only ever traveled to Canada, right? When you had that issue with crossing the border coming back home.”
“Yeah, that was crazy. I was traveling…” She looks at me curiously, her brow furrowed. “Hold up. How did you know that? I don’t remember telling you that.”
Shit. Strategic error. I’m not supposed to let on that I’ve looked into her background. Fuck. Or, that I’ve looked into everything about her.
I shrug. “Thought you mentioned something about it?” My stomach tightens. I hate lying to her.
She blinks, frowning just a little, and I swear she looks even more gorgeous when she frowns than when she smiles.
“Funny. I don’t remember.” Then she gives a little shrug. “But we’ve talked about so many things, it’s all beginning to run together.”
Her phone buzzes in her bag. She looks to me for permission to answer it.
I brush my thumb over her cheek. “Good girl. You’ve learned so well. Yes, answer your phone.” I won’t deny her this when she runs a business and has family that depends on her.
“Lexi again?”
“Hello?” She shakes her head. It’s not Lexi but her ringtone? “Oh. Hi, Mom.”
Her eyes come to mine, widening. “You took Lexi’s phone to call me. Good, I’m glad you did that, Mom, but is everything okay?”
A little worry line knits between her brows. “What do you mean, Lexi’s crying in the other room? She won’t tell you what’s wrong?” She listens, then sighs. “You’re talking on her cell, Mom. I can’t talk to her any other way.” She nods. “Okay, you do that. Call me back, okay?”
She hangs up the phone. “That’s strange,” she says. “Mom called and said she’s worried because Lexi left the dining room crying. They were having dinner together. Lexi got a call. Then left in tears, her phone on the table. Lexi told me everything was fine.”
“Maybe Lexi doesn’t want to worry you?”
She nods. “Maybe.”
“I can have Shane find out whatever you need.”
She blinks, then blinks again. “What do you mean?”
Christ, I need to stop talking. “He’s my assistant is all I mean. He could make a few calls, see if he can find anything out.”
“Find out things about my sister’s private life?” Her blue eyes grow clouded, and her voice is a little tighter. “That’s a little creepy, Gabriel.”
I keep myself calm. I can’t lose her, not now, not when we’re making such excellent progress.
Not when she’s this close to being mine.
“Or we could fly out there again, if you’d like.”
She blows out an exasperated breath. “We can’t exactly fly out to California every time my sister cries.”
“No, but we could move out there.” The idea is out of my mouth before I even decide it's an option.
Her jaw drops open. “Gabriel, are you… serious?”
I shrug. “Why not? We can buy a home out there.”
Stop, my conscience tells me, reminding me not to push too hard. But I’ve never been one that did anything half-assed. When I’m all in, I’m all fucking in.
She shakes her head. “As much as I appreciate your… chivalry,” she begins hesitantly, as if she’s not sure that’s the right word in this context. “That seems a bit drastic. I mean… we hardly know each other.”
Not true. I know everything about her.
She draws in a deep breath. She’s wound up, I can tell. Even after the champagne, even with the reminder of her submission to me deeply embedded between her cheeks, while she’s nestled on my lap, she’s like a bow string ready to snap.
I bring my hand to her neck and gently massage. She closes her eyes and sighs.
“There, baby. Relax. Let daddy help you with this.”
“It’s so much, though.”
“But this is what I like, Miranda. I like taking care of you. I like helping you bear some of your burdens.”
She shakes her head but then melts into me as I continue to massage her neck. “I feel like you’re seducing me, sir.”
I chuckle. “Excellent. Because that’s precisely what I’m trying to do.”
She rests her head against me, and I gently brush a thumb over her breasts. I can feel her nipples pebble right through the fabric. I glance around the room and see that we’re alone now.
I lean in and whisper in her ear, “We’re all alone here, baby. And you’ve been a very good girl for daddy. I know how to get you to relax.”
Her eyes flutter open and she looks at me in surprise. “No way.”
I cluck my tongue. “Are you saying no to daddy? If you do, daddy will have to whip your little bottom right here, and anyone who came in would see what happens to little girls who disobey their daddies.”
My cock aches at the mere thought, and a part of me almost hopes she does defy me.
She nods slowly. “Okay, daddy. I… I trust you.” I can see how much it takes for her to say that, for her to get to this point.
“Good girl,” I whisper. “That’s daddy’s very good girl. Gently spread your legs for daddy.”
She obeys. I take the hem of her dress and slide my hand beneath it, my heart thudding in my chest at the feel of her warm thighs, and the sweet, alluring scent of her arousal.
I bend and kiss her neck as I stroke my finger over her clit. No panties, just like I asked. She moans as I circle her tight bundle of nerves, her legs parting further.
“You don’t seem too troubled by anyone walking in on us now, baby,” I tease, and she giggles.
“Let them,” she says. “I might die if you don’t let me come.”
I suckle her neck and stroke her clit, then finger her hot, wet entrance. I glide my moistened fingertip over her clit again, as I kiss and bite her neck, her ears, her collarbone, until her hips rise and her breathing hitches.
I take my thumb and put gentle pressure on her plug. “Come, baby, come for daddy, or daddy will punish you. Come on daddy’s fingers.”
She flies into ecstasy, her pussy tightening around me as I plunge them in her core before stroking her clit. Her head falls back as pleasure envelops her. I work her through her orgasm, my own cock aching for release at the feel of her climaxing.
She whimpers when she finally settles into me, and sighs. “My God, daddy,” she says, one arm draped over my shoulder. “That was amazing. So… oh my God, so intense. Having that plug in me somehow made it tighter. Better.”
I lean down and kiss her, tasting champagne and the sweet essence of my girl.
“I’m glad. That pleases me, babygirl. I can’t wait to give you even more of what you’ve earned later tonight.”
“We have to get back,” she whispers. “They’ll miss us.”
“They will.”
But even after her orgasm, I can see she’s preoccupied, worrying about home. Sad to leave our private room, I take her back to the ballroom and to Darius and Katie. “Stay here a minute,” I tell her. “Let me speak to Shane.”
The mention of Shane’s name brings back that same apprehension, it's written on her features, but after a few seconds of reflection, she nods. I raise my hand to Shane, who comes straight to me. Women all around us watch as he walks over to me. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Olive skin. H
e’s a former model himself, but gave it up over a decade ago. He’s the best assistant a guy could ask for.
“You’ve got her eating out of your fucking hand, you lucky prick.”
I roll my eyes at him. “Luck has nothing to do with it.”
He blows out a breath. “Don’t I know it. Just make sure you don’t push too hard and get yourself jailed for fucking stalking.”
“Jesus, why don’t you say that a little louder?”
He only chuckles, but I want to deck him. I’ve done nothing illegal, and my hope is that if I take good care of her and her family as well, when she finds out what I’ve done she’ll forgive me.
She has to.
But that’s the one fucking thing I can’t command her to do, isn’t it?
I fill him in. Ask for him to get the details.
“On it, boss,” he says. His cell phone’s already up to his ear.
When I get back to the table, Katie and Miranda are eating cake and drinking coffee. She smiles up at me, though her eyes are still a bit troubled. I sit down beside her.
“I’ll let you know what I find out.”
She nods. “Thank you.”
The next hour’s filled with our staged “candids.” She grins at me, a bite of cake poised on her fork as she feeds it to me. I wipe a crumb of cake off her cheek with a napkin. My hand rests atop hers, as we answer a few questions. Shane usually orchestrates this, but with him occupied, the reporters are more pushy than usual.
“How long have you two been dating?”
“Are you a couple?”
“Will she be joining you for your Parisian tour?”
Thankfully, Darius steps in as Shane’s substitute, and after a dozen or so questions and over a hundred pictures, we’re left alone at the table.
I can see exhaustion written in her features, and I know Miranda wants answers.
“It’s time for us to go,” I say, pushing up from the table.
“I agree,” Miranda says with a yawn. She says goodbye to her friend, and takes my arm when I offer it to her.
“You don’t have to worry about the escort service,” she says quietly. “It’s not under my name, but incorporated, and there won’t be anything connected to me with that.”
I nod. I’m not worried about that anyway, but I could see that she might be.
My phone rings. Shane.
“Hello?”
“Found out what was going on.” I don’t need to ask how he found out.
“Yeah?”
“You know her sister’s fiancé?”
“Not personally, but yeah.”
“She caught him cheating on her when she got home earlier than usual from visiting her mom. I guess she’s had her suspicions but ignored them until now. Wedding’s off. That’s why she was asking about relocating her mother. She doesn’t want to be anywhere near her ex. Poor girl’s a wreck.” Shane’s voice is full of empathy. He’s got an uncanny ability to put himself in someone else’s shoes—yet another thing I love about the guy.
My own heart sinks for her. Being cheated on sucks. “Jesus.”
“Tell Miranda to call her sister.”
I nod. “I will. Thanks, man.”
I hang up the phone as we walk toward our ride. “Call your sister, baby.”
Chapter Fourteen
Miranda
My hands shake as I pull up her number. What is wrong with Lexi? Was moving Mom to the home too much? Should I have stayed longer to help?
The phone rings and rings. With each metallic echo my guilt grows. I should have stayed longer. I should have helped more.
On what feels like the hundredth ring, she picks up. “Hello?” She sounds small, shaken. I can hear the tears in her voice.
I want to reach through the phone and pull her into me for a hug. “Lexi. What’s wrong?”
“Oh, Miranda. I didn’t want to tell you. Everything’s going so well for you and you already had to come down here once to help me…” She bursts into sobs.
What is it? What could possibly have my sister so torn up inside? My mind searches frantically, flipping through what I know of her current life. Tom. The only thing that could possibly have her this upset is something happening to Tom.
“What happened? Is Tom alright? Has he been hurt?” Visions of him in a car crash, or bandaged and unconscious on a hospital bed flash through my mind.
My words only make her cry harder. Am I right and he’s hurt? Or is it worse?
She says a jumble of things that are nearly incoherent, but I think I hear the words “Tom” and “dead,” and I fly into a panic.
“Oh my God! Is Tom… dead?”
“No, but he’s going to be if I get my hands on him. And when I’m done with him I’m going after her. I’ll pop those silicone implants and then I’ll… then I’ll… oh, who am I kidding? I’m not going to do anything.”
So, Tom’s not dead. He’s fine, but she wants to kill him and… silicone implants? “What are you talking about?”
“I can’t take it.” Her angry voice turns to a whisper. “I just want out of here.”
Making my heart break. “Lexi. What happened?”
Finally, she gathers herself enough to tell me the story. The words come out fast and hard. “Yesterday afternoon I came home early from visiting Mom. I felt bad I’ve been spending so much time over there, so I was going to get home before he did. Bake him his favorite Triple Chocolate Cake. You know—that one I made him when he asked me to be his girlfriend? Anyway I don’t want to go into it, I can’t—it hurts too much—but let’s just say, he wasn’t alone.”
Tom? Cheated on my sister?
But Tom is… perfect. He’s the man I’ve measured all other friends’ fiancées and husbands to. He’s kind, loving, considerate. Always putting Lexi first.
Or so I thought.
“And the wedding?”
“Off. And it’s too late to get the deposits back. I’ve wasted all your money. Not to mention wasting the past two years of my life.” My stomach sinks as she goes on. “And… I gave up my job when he asked me to, so I don’t even have that anymore, for God’s sake. It’s his apartment I live in. His money I live off of. What am I going to do?”
I want to send someone to destroy that asshole. A dark thought pops into my mind… I’m sure Mr. Lord has men for that.
But even if he did, it’s out of the question. There’s only one answer that’s acceptable. “Come here. You’re going to come here.”
“But what about Mom? Gabriel just got her that great place and she’s had to move once… I hate to make her move again on my account.”
“She’ll have to adjust, but in the end it will be better. The three of us will be together. And that’s going to be what’s best for all of us.”
I can see her shaking her head in my mind. Biting her nails down to the quick. “I don’t know. I need to get out of here, but I have a life here, you know? And to move Mom…”
I’m losing her. She’s going down a spiral of despair and soon, she’ll try to get off the phone with me. I need to get her to commit to coming here. At least for a few days to clear her head. “Tell you what… Mom’s happy right now, right?”
“Yeah. She loves that place.”
“And you're miserable, right?”
She gives a dark laugh. “Never been worse.”
“Then why don’t you come here just for a few days. Just to catch your breath. To get away.”
“Like a vacation?”
“What if I told you that a car could pull up at your house in the morning. That it could take you to an airport where a private jet will be waiting for you. That you could fly in absolute luxury, and be here with me, in Vegas by lunchtime tomorrow? And be in Tori’s spin class together by afternoon. How would that feel?” It’s amazing, to be able to offer this to her, without even asking Gabriel first.
She takes a shuddering breath. “Fucking amazing.”
Ah. Yes. She’ll be here by noon. “Done. Pack yo
ur bag. Have a glass—or a bottle of wine—and set your alarm for nine a.m.”
“Tell you what—can you just have the car go to Mom’s old house? I think I’ll go there and crash again. I grabbed a bag of my stuff before I left yesterday, and I stayed at Mom’s last night. I don’t even want to go to the apartment. Ever.”
“Done. And don’t worry about the rest. I’ll take care of it.” I’m sure Shane could find a way to get my sister’s stuff packed up and sent here, or to my mom’s old house. Maybe Gabriel’s inside connections aren’t so creepy after all. They are actually turning out to be quite helpful.
I call her an Uber from the care home to Mom’s house. I don’t want her driving when she’s this upset. I shoot a quick text to Tom. You’ll be getting instructions on getting my sister’s stuff to her soon. I guess you were just too good to be true. Asshole.
I read the text before I hit send. Too good to be true. Isn’t that what I thought about Gabriel? But he turned out to be the real deal.
Right?
Is there even such a thing? Relationships can be such fuck ups and it makes me sad to find out Tom is one of those guys. The kind of man that’s kept me distanced from men. Focused on my business, seeing men as a means to an end, a paycheck. Nothing more.
Never. Fall. In. Love.
I’m brought out of my dark line of thought by a hand, smoothing over the back of my neck, pulling my hair to the side. A warm kiss caressing my skin. Teeth nipping at my shoulder.
Gabriel.
I turn, falling into his arms. He surrounds me with warmth and protection. His lips are on mine, his kisses telling me all will be well. He pulls away to speak, and I miss his mouth on mine.
“What is it, babygirl?”
I tell him everything. Lips pursed and eyes heated with anger, he whips his phone from his pocket, and calls Shane.
Just like I knew he would. His righteous anger makes my belly warm and my heart thud.
“Shane’s going to fly with the jet to California and get her himself. Lexi will be here by one tomorrow.” I breathe a sigh of relief and thank him with a kiss on his cheek.
He takes my hand and we leave the ballroom.
As I walk beside him, his hand around mine, I remember the plug. It still feels strange as I walk. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. And though I’m forming a love-hate relationship with the little torture device, right now I’m intensely grateful for the little devil.
