Читать книгу Modern Romance June 2019 Books 5-8 - Andie Brock - Страница 14

“WHAT?” HER EYES went round as big blue plates. “Why? No.”

“It’s what she wanted.” He moved back to the safe and brought out the pages he’d removed from the portfolio, the one with his own head shot atop it. “I was in there, too.”

“No.” She shook her head and spoke in a hurried, half-panicked tone. “She often asked me to include you as a comparison when I prepared reports like this. She regarded you very highly, always measuring other businessmen by the standards you set.”

“She asked me nine different times in the last year to come visit. How many times were any of those men invited here?”

“They live in the city. She didn’t like to travel. She probably wanted you to come so she could tell you she was leaving everything to you.”

“She wanted me to meet you. Look.” He flipped past the summary of his holdings and showed her the contract with their names already written into it.

Her sharp inhale told him that had been a blow she hadn’t expected. He’d been shocked, too. And had wanted to see her reaction, to be sure she hadn’t set this up. Her lips were white, her pupils tiny dots.

“You don’t want to marry me! Do you?” she asked with trepidation.

“Marriage has not been a priority for me,” he admitted, but frowned.

Mae was the only person he had ever listed as his beneficiary because she was the closest relative he had. There were reasons he hadn’t pursued marriage and children, one of them being that he would have to wade through a swamp of gold diggers to find someone suitable.

Regardless of how uncomfortable it made him that Mae had plotted like this, there was something very expedient and businesslike in having marriage and progeny sourced and negotiated so all he had to do was agree to the terms. It provided a beautifully simple means of keeping emotions out of the equation.

“You could just give me the dowry,” Luli urged with faint hope.

If everything she had told him was true—and he was beginning to think it was—then she was too inexperienced to strike out alone, especially in a major center like New York or Paris, money in her pockets or not. The idea of her disappearing into thin air didn’t sit well.

“It’s very likely Mae intended to make our marriage a condition of my inheriting.” He likely would have refused, but now he’d met Luli and wasn’t so sure. He saw so much untapped potential in her. “In the same way I’m honoring her arrangements for the staff, I should provide you what she intended you to have.”

“A husband? Lucky me,” she choked.

He was both amused and insulted.

“This is a very quick means of gaining you residency in New York, where you said you wanted to go. I’d prefer to get back there without delay.” He handed her the contract. “Read it. If you agree it’s favorable, we’ll sign it in the morning, marry and be on our way.”

“New York? Really?” For the first time, an avid flash glittered in her eyes.

It made him cautious enough to add, “And this way I can be sure you’re not embezzling to accounts in South America or dropping inconvenient PR bombshells.”

She rolled the contract and held it in her fist, cocked her head in suspicion. “Am I supposed to disable everything now?”

“This isn’t a trick.” He hid a smile at how much he enjoyed the way she held ground and presented a challenge at every turn. “Disable the timer. I’ll break in on my own time and assess what you’ve done. I don’t like that you’ve found vulnerabilities. I’ll examine those doors and seal them myself, ensure nothing like this can happen again.”

Maybe this was the real attraction to marrying her, he mused as she frowned and left the room. He wanted to delve past her defenses and understand how she worked.

* * *

It was an opportunity that felt too good to turn down. And Luli had run out of options. Losing Mae had left her bereft in many ways.

The marriage contract was quite generous, but he didn’t really want to give her an allowance, did he? Not that much? She crossed it out and set a question mark beside it for discussion. What about the settlements for children? Did he expect them to have sex? Or was this a marriage in name only?

She went down early the next morning, wanting to talk it out, but he was much in demand. Solicitors and other officials were literally queued up, waiting their turn while he signed papers, made arrangements for Mae’s cremation and held a small press conference.

She finally caught his eye by hovering in the doorway as he was dismissing someone.

“Ready?” he asked, waving her in with a frown at what she was wearing.

He had asked her to put on something for travel, but she didn’t own anything except her uniform dresses. She had stolen into Mae’s closet for the only clothes that fit her wide hips and ample chest. The pleated skirt was a mustard color, the brocade jacket double-breasted and so dated it had mattresses for shoulder pads.

She smiled a hesitant greeting at Mae’s lawyer who sat with a clerk on the sofa, papers laid out before them on the coffee table. Another man rose as she entered.

Gabriel took the pages from her, reading as he said, “Close the door. This is Mr. Johnson from the American embassy. He’s liaising with the Venezuelan authorities to obtain your emergency passport and issue your permit to enter the US.”

“Oh. Thank you. Nice to meet you.” She shook the American’s hand.

“I understand you’re both very much in love,” Mr. Johnson said, making a facetious V with his lips.

“What...?”

“He’s officiating our marriage.” Gabriel leaned on the desk to affix his signature to the bottom of the contract in a firm scratch. He offered the pen to her. “Which is, of course, a love match and not a work-around for residency.”

She opened her mouth, wanting to say she had come in here to discuss the contract, not sign it. Not do this.

But there was Mr. Johnson, waiting to issue her a passport and the right to enter the US. All she had to do was keep her mouth shut.

She pressed her lips tight and took the pen in fingers that felt nerveless and clumsy. Her scrawl was jerky and not the least bit pretty. In fact, she couldn’t recall the last time she had written her whole given name.

Gabriel handed the document to the attorney then looked to Mr. Johnson.

Right there in front of Mae’s desk, where Luli had stood a thousand times, she spoke vows to create a life with Gabriel, then signed another piece of paper and was pronounced his wife.

“You may kiss,” Mr. Johnson said.

Gabriel was suddenly very close. Bigger. His eyes seeming to turn a dark, hunter green. He was asking her a silent question, one she couldn’t interpret, let alone answer.

The heat of his palm settled against the side of her neck. The width of his chest blocked out the world while his head came down.

She had wondered about kissing. There had been one, a very long time ago. It had been wet and off-putting and—

Conscious thought disappeared as the smooth heat of his lips grazed hers, once, twice. It caused a buzzing sensation, almost ticklish. Maddening. She found herself pressing into her toes, rising so her mouth more firmly met his, soothing the crazed feeling and suddenly his lips were fully sealed over hers.

Surprise held them both still for one heartbeat. Then his mouth moved in a lazy, curious taste of hers, parting her lips with the movement. Fireworks detonated under her skin and exploded against her closed eyelids.

A gasp caught in her throat, but it was the shock of having so many sensations accost her. His faint taste of bitter, black kopi, the scent of his aftershave on his smooth cheek, the sweep of his tongue that somehow sent a wrecking ball into her middle and another into her pounding heart.

She splayed a hand over his chest. His kiss grew more devouring. She found herself squeezed up against the solid wall of his chest. His hard arms felt strangely good, if overwhelming. She was barely aware of what she was doing, moving her mouth against his out of instinct. Her arms unfurled to twine around his neck and she let her weight rest more fully against him as a drugged lassitude kept her in this wonderful place. She wanted to do this forever, mouth sliding against mouth, easing slightly then coming back with a deeper hunger. It was glorious.

He lifted his head and a noise of loss caught in her throat. His hands moved to her upper arms and he set her back a step, expression smoothed to something unreadable. He turned his head to look at Mr. Johnson. “Thank you.”

It was like a bucket of cold water. Her head was still swimming, but she figured out that their kiss had been for the benefit of their small audience, not something that had affected him the way it had affected her.

“Collect your things,” he said. “We’ll leave shortly.”

She nodded dumbly, not looking at anyone. It was starting to hit her that she had placed her future into the hands of a man with far more power than her mother’s strident urging for her to win prize money or Mae’s dictatorial demands.

Gabriel was master of everything he touched, including her. She had used up all her bravado yesterday—and played every card she had. Since then, she had actually discarded and folded a few. She had deactivated most of her insurance policies and had no doubt he would be able to hack into his own system within days. Then what would she be? Useless again.

And once again in a foreign land without a friend in the world.

At least here, she had her feet planted. The moment she left, she would be at his mercy.

Maybe she should stay, she thought with a wild rush of cowardice, hand shaking as she pushed her few things into a bag. Then she stared at the paltry evidence of her life here. With force of habit, her hand went to the front of her skirt, but failed to find the patch pockets where she kept a smooth stone she had found in the garden years ago.

It was on the night table and she dropped it into the bag.

Would the fish miss her throwing a handful of crumbs into the pond each morning? Would anyone miss her once she left here?

Gabriel was at the front door, seeing the men out. She went along to Mae’s office where she started to unplug the laptop, but checked first to see if he had made any progress breaking in.

Not that she could tell. She confirmed that this week’s payroll figures had been entered by all the department heads, then double-checked them and ensured the balances were available to cover it before she hit the keys that finalized the process.

Then she clicked over to market numbers. The announcement about Mrs. Chen’s hospitalization might have caused a sell-off if the news hadn’t been accompanied by the identity of her surprise grandson taking over. That had caused a rush to buy into some of her ventures, sending their value jumping several points.

Eight years of hard work and Luli hadn’t made anywhere near the profit for Mae that Gabriel had by the simple act of connecting his name to Mae’s.

She touched the power button, shutting down in disgust.

“What are you doing?” The butler’s accusatory tone made her jump.

“I—” Did she have a guilty conscience? Very much so. “I’m packing.” She wrapped the power cord around her hand and dropped it into her bag.

“Not that, you’re not!” He puffed up with indignation. “You take nothing.” He came across and tried to grab her bag to see inside it.

She backed up a few steps, distancing herself from his aggression. “Gabe—Mr. Dean is taking me to New York.” She couldn’t bring herself to tell him they’d just gotten married. “I need the laptop to keep working.”

“You don’t work.” He made it sound as if she’d never lifted a finger in her life. “Were you on your knees when he said you could go with him? Slut.” He sounded like one of her preteen fellow contestants.

“If this is about last night, I’m sorry.” He felt tricked she supposed. “I misunderstood about dinner.”

“You’re not sorry. You wanted to make me look foolish. You were always trying to be Mrs. Chen’s little pet and now you want to be his. Out. Now.” He grabbed her by the arm.

Luli squeaked out a noise, so shocked at his getting physical, it took her a moment to dig in her heels and struggle against his hold.

“Let me go!” she cried.

He did—in a whirl of movement so fast she wound up clutching her hand against the thick fabric of her jacket’s lapel, trying to keep her heart from leaving her chest.

Gabriel stood before her instead of the butler, but he was bent over and the butler was flat on his back on the floor. Gabriel’s hand was pressed to the man’s throat, turning the older man dark red.

“You will leave,” he told the butler, switching his grip to the front of the man’s shirt and yanking him to his feet as he straightened. “Now.”

Swaying in shock, the butler clutched a protective hand to his wheezing throat and hurried from the room.

Gabriel shot his cuffs and adjusted his tie, eyes ashen as he stared at her. “We’re leaving.” He jerked his head for her to precede him.

* * *

Luli was still dressed like a seventy-year-old woman, but Gabriel didn’t tell her to change. He just wanted away from this place.

He was furious over what had just happened. He had nearly killed the man—who was in his fifties and no match for Gabriel’s deadly training. It hadn’t even been self-defense. The butler had been rude and rough, but Gabriel didn’t think his intention had been to physically hurt Luli, only to force her from the house.

Even so, a haze of bloodlust had blinded him. He had acted on instinct and was still disturbed by his brief loss of control. Why had he reacted so strongly? He would intervene in any situation where someone was being bullied, but he wouldn’t commit homicide.

The primal male in him had been roused by a threat to his mate, was the problem. His ears were still ringing from their kiss. He had meant to keep it a chaste peck, but her lips had been so soft. He had lingered, enjoying the tremulous way her mouth flowered open against his. Nothing had prepared him for the impact when she pressed into the kiss. A bolt of pure lust had jabbed through him, tightening his arms around her.

The rush of blood when her soft curves had collided with his frame had left his groin throbbing with the beat of his heart. It had been all he could do to set her back from him and keep an impassive look on his face when he’d wanted to snarl at the men to leave so he could consummate their marriage right then and there.

He was used to being pursued by women. It was a game where he allowed himself to be pounced upon and played with and always walked away when he grew bored.

This situation with Luli was entirely different. He had thought last night, when he had talked her into this marriage, that he had secured the perfect partnership. He could have the sensual wrestling he enjoyed while everything he valued—including detachment from the sort of emotion that weakened lesser mortals—would be protected.

Then he’d tasted a depth of passion unlike anything he’d ever known. It roused a beast that had reacted to the butler’s manhandling with atavistic violence.

“Why have you never stood up for yourself with anyone here?” His tone was thick enough with leftover rage she flinched, expression defensive.

“What would I say? Make accusations that would get me thrown out with nothing? He wasn’t wrong. I did ingratiate myself with her.”

The irony was, her openness about currying favor made her seem vulnerable, provoking the protector in him again. None of this made sense.

He led her down the front steps, still waiting for a miracle where his grandmother came back to life and made clear that he was either correcting her wrong against Luli or told him he was falling for the greatest trick a gold-digger had ever pulled.

“Is that all the luggage, sir?” the chauffeur asked, setting Gabriel’s single case in the trunk.

“And that.” He nodded at the bag Luli carried. It was the cheap fabric kind the kitchen staff no doubt took to the market stalls for produce.

What had her childhood been like that she thought living like this had been a step up? How could such a beautiful, healthy, bright woman be in such a position?

He’d spent half the night reading her code. She hadn’t been bluffing about blowing things up, but she’d also layered in fail-safes in case she was also locked out. The most critical functions were being monitored electronically so the many people employed by Mae’s various enterprises wouldn’t be too badly impacted if no one was at the wheel.

Such a perplexing woman.

“What are you doing?” he asked as he realized she was hovering on the bottom step, balking at coming forward to get in the car. The rain had let up, but the humidity was around 1000 percent, making his suit cling to his skin. “Did you forget something?”

“I’m scared.” Her clean features were pale in the flat light of overcast skies, her mouth tense, her brow furrowed.

“Of?”

“You. What I’ve done. Where we’re going.”

He was having second thoughts himself, but a clench of barbaric implacability insisted he take her away from this place.

“You can’t stay here.” He wouldn’t let her.

“I know.” She looked into the car the way someone facing execution might look toward the electric chair.

He scraped together the pieces of himself that still possessed some civility and held out a hand. “It will be all right, Luli.”

It wasn’t like him to reassure. He enjoyed the feel of a woman’s naked body beside him in bed, but he didn’t cuddle or coddle. She was causing all sorts of unrecognizable pangs in him, ones that warned him he’d have to proceed carefully where she was concerned, but he still wanted her to come with him.

Now, more than ever.

She tightened her lips with resolve and her grip was clammy. The way she squeezed his fingers filled his chest with inexplicable pressure.

He settled beside her and reminded her to put on her belt.

“Do you think I could get fish someday?” she asked as he turned up the air-conditioning and the car pulled away.

“Odd question, but I don’t see why not. I have several aquariums. They’re very soothing.”

“You do?” She brightened a little. “Will I see them?”

“Of course.” It struck him that she would be living with him for the foreseeable future. There was a reason he chose fish as pets. They were quiet and demanded nothing of him.

What the hell had he done?

“Maybe a cat would be better.” She set her elbow on the armrest and tucked her fist beneath her chin, speaking to the window now. “Spending your life stuck in a bowl isn’t fun.”