Читать книгу Modern Romance June 2019 Books 5-8 - Andie Brock - Страница 18

LULI FROWNED WHEN she logged in and saw a balance had dropped significantly lower than she expected. She popped into the account and gasped.

“You’re in!” She flashed a look at Gabriel, lounging indolently on the sofa across from her, feet on the ottoman, his own laptop on his thighs. His amused gaze hit hers.

“Since last night. Took you long enough to notice.”

“I haven’t had a chance, have I?” They’d been on the savanna all day, then swam and ate and finally settled in with their devices a few minutes ago.

She closed the lid of her laptop, setting it aside. “Congratulations?” she offered.

His brows moved in an infinitesimal acknowledgment, unimpressed with his own prowess. Given this was how he made his living, she had expected him to outmaneuver her very quickly, but she still craved an acknowledgment of the effort it took him to do it. She wanted him to see her as a laudable opponent.

And she desperately needed to know, “What now?”

He already held all the power between them. Even the sexual supremacy. It didn’t seem to matter if they were half-naked in the plunge pool, moving within inches of each other through the forms of tai chi or sitting like this, feet almost sole to sole. He indicated no more than casual awareness of her while she was in a constant state of heightened senses. His scent, the heat off his body, the husk of his laugh. It all made her thirst for more.

Consent went both ways, she kept telling herself morosely.

His cheeks hollowed. “Come tell me what’s going on here.” He nodded at his screen.

She moved to perch next to him. “Oh. I didn’t agree with Mae on this, but she had a longtime relationship with that company.”

Thirty minutes of discussion followed on a handful of other funds and transactions in Mae’s portfolio. Gabriel had a higher risk tolerance than Mae, which made Luli feel defensive about the decisions she had made in the past.

Gabriel watched her mouth while she spoke, which distracted her. They were spending nearly every waking minute together. Which was the point of a honeymoon, she supposed, but married couples usually exorcised this tension with sex. Her desire for him was making it nearly impossible to respond to his incisive questions.

She finally sat back with her hands in her lap. By this time she had her knees folded beneath her and was facing him on the sofa.

“I have to know, Gabriel. Are you going to lock me out? I really like doing this.”

“I can tell,” he said, not mocking her. “And some of my Ivy League executives aren’t putting this much analysis and consideration into their decisions. I can’t run all these as separate entities for any length of time, though. It’s not practical.”

“You’re firing me?”

“Consider yourself on notice. Keep doing what you’re doing for the moment, but discuss all your decisions with me. I’ll start breaking this into pieces and farming them out once we’re back in New York and I can meet with some of my people.”

“You just said I’m good at it!”

“No, I said you’re thorough and careful. You’re micromanaging, which has its drawbacks.”

“You’re going to fire me because I care? What am I supposed to do if I don’t do this?

“Be a society wife?”

“Ha-ha. You don’t want a wife. Not me, anyway. Is that why you’re planning to fire me from that, too?” she asked on a sudden burst of understanding that his rejection had nothing to do with whether she wanted children. “Because I care too much?”

He turned his head, expression a dark glower. “Yes.”

Crushed and trying not to show it, she shifted to sit straight, knees hugged to her chest. Her mind reached and tried to grasp, but only found thin air.

“Luli.” He sighed. His elbow nudged hers. “I care enough to want to look after you. Don’t worry about whether you’re working.”

“I want to look after myself,” she muttered, feet hitting the floor in a stomp. “Of course I’m going to worry about it.”

“Where are you going?” he asked as she started toward the door.

“Where any society wife goes when her husband tells her to quit her job and stay home. To spend his money at the nearest shop.”

“If you come back wearing zebra print, I’ll divorce you on the spot.”

“I’ll buy them out, then.” She swung the door shut behind her.

* * *

Disappointing a woman was not new territory for him. Feeling like an ass about it was. Gabriel stood by what he had said, though. It wasn’t practical to keep her running a separate entity, double-checking and doubting herself, simply to give her something to do. Granted, she’d never been given the chance to take full responsibility. In time, she might prove to be more assertive and successful, but he’d find something else for her to cut her teeth on.

In the meantime, he half expected her to lock him out of Mae’s accounts again—or at least try. He plugged all the holes she’d found in his code, but she was wily.

Apparently she wasn’t the type to hold a grudge, though. She came back from the gift shop with a bar of specialty chocolate and offered him some.

“I’ll find something for you,” he promised her.

“I don’t want nepotism. No one would respect me—including me.” She popped a square into her mouth, chewed thoughtfully. “All I knew was beauty pageants until I worked for Mae. Education is never wasted, but sometimes you need more despite what you have. I’ll figure out the next stage for myself. You don’t have to give me a job just to make me feel useful.”

He respected that desire for independence, but still wanted to look after her. It was a tough line to walk. He really wished he could see her as an employee or a project or an exotic creature he could pet and play with and ultimately set free with smug satisfaction at having rescued and rehabilitated her.

But there was no hiding the fact she was a woman, even when she dressed like a man.

He took her to the office with him when they landed in New York. She was still caretaking Mae’s investments and he had some ideas on how to utilize her skills, but he needed to put a few more pieces in place first.

Mostly he brought her with him because he couldn’t stand the idea of leaving her alone in his penthouse all day. Which was all about her, he chided himself. He could have gone those hours without seeing her just fine.

With equal parts curiosity and wariness, she took her cue from his custom-made suit and dressed in flared pants with a matching pinstriped vest over a crisp white shirt with a sharply pointed collar. She twisted her hair up and carried a briefcase that cost as much as the sleek new laptop within it. She rather cheekily pilfered one of his ties and wore it loose enough her collar exposed the hollow in the base of her throat.

She was sexy as hell. If anything, the contrast of authoritative masculine clothes on her nonstop curves made her femininity more obvious. Very much more alluring.

After a week of trying to ignore her round ass in snug khakis and the way perspiration gathered between her breasts in her low, round-necked undershirts, it was taking all his concentration to behave like a civilized man when the territorial beast inside him wanted so badly to mate.

But he couldn’t. He didn’t know how he would keep his control in place, but he would.

They turned heads as he walked her through his top-floor offices.

“That’s the meeting I left when I got your message.” He thumbed toward a glass wall into a boardroom where a dozen faces, stern and concerned and curious, watched them walk past. “Come find me if you need me. I’ll be there for a few hours.”

He continued along to the open door of the office closest to his own.

“Luli, this is Marco.”

“Sir.” The good-looking, well-dressed Latino man stopped typing and stood. He was a little older than Luli and eyed her with sharp interest as he came around to greet them. “Congratulations on your recent marriage, sir. And thank you for the promotion. I appreciate your thinking of me.”

He shook Gabriel’s hand and smiled warmly at Luli as he shook hers. “Mrs. Dean, welcome.”

“Nice to meet you,” Luli murmured shyly, gaze taking in the view of Central Park behind the sleek desk, the mini fridge beneath the bar and the presentation screen over the meeting table with four chairs. “I’ll set up there and check in with Singapore while you’re tied up?” she suggested to Gabriel, nodding at the table.

God, she was adorable.

“Luli, we’ve talked about this,” he admonished sternly, enjoying her discomfiture as she widened her eyes and grew defensive.

“I want to make those transfers we talked about on the plane. You said I should continue doing what I was doing until you made other arrangements.”

“Do your work at your desk. This is your office.” He moved so she could see the plate on the door read Lucrecia Dean. “Marco has everything set up for you. He’s your personal assistant. If you need anything—thumbtacks, dry cleaning, tickets to a Broadway show—he’ll source it. But make sure I’m free to go with you. Sync our calendars,” he told Marco.

“Done, sir.”

“Thank you. Marco speaks Spanish,” Gabriel added to Luli. “It’s one of the reasons I thought he’d be a good fit for you.”

“I barely do,” she admitted sheepishly to Marco. “It’s been such a long time.” She pushed her mouth to the side in a look that was both reproving and rueful as she realized Gabriel had been deliberately teasing her, letting her think Marco was her boss or sitter. “Gracias.”

“De nada. We have plans tonight. Steal a nap on the sofa in my office if you need it.” Unable to resist, he kissed her cheek before he walked out.

* * *

Wear something dramatic, Gabriel had said when he informed her they would attend a black-tie gala benefiting a museum.

The gown Luli chose was made of stretch lace with subtle dragons embroidered into it. It clung to her arms and flared out at the hem to create the impression ink had been poured down her body and splashed out around her feet. It was lined with nude satin so she wore only a peach-colored thong beneath. The plunging neckline didn’t allow for a bra and she applied double-sided tape against her cleavage to avoid a slip.

Her shoes were a glamorous half dozen straps bedecked with rhinestones and a high ankle strap. She straightened her hair to a sleek curtain combed back from her face then drew attention to her eyes with mauve and gold, chartreuse and teal. Her lips received a coat of dark red called Salem.

“Are you trying to kill me?” Gabriel stopped with his drink halfway to his mouth when she appeared.

“Really?” She smiled with shy pleasure and gave him the one-hand-on-her-hip pose. A small weight shift and she changed hands, giving her hair a slow flip along the way, so the curtain gently spilled off the back of her hand. She held her pose, chin high, gaze on the distant future, not a care in the world.

“You’re going to put the entire city in the hospital.” He pretended to take a phone call. “Yeah, that was my wife. I can’t help it if she’s that freaking hot. Get a better power grid because she’s going to keep knocking it out.”

She burst out laughing, flattered, but more bowled over that he would be so silly about it. It helped her relax and pin a smile of lingering humor on her face when they arrived at the chaotic zoo that was the red carpet.

An audible “Whoa...” rose from the crowd. Photographers hurried into position to snap their photo, demanding to know who she was wearing and how was her honeymoon and when had they started dating.

Gabriel drew her inside before she had to answer.

“Are there specific people you need to see tonight?” Luli asked as he handed her a flute of champagne. She wanted to be prepared and help in any way she could, not run away with a case of stage fright this time.

“They’ll come to us,” he said with careless arrogance. His eyes narrowed as she released a small snort. “What?”

“I’m wondering if you ever go to anyone.” After seeing him in several environments now, she was realizing she wasn’t the only one in awe of him. From janitor to pilot to executive to governor, people fell over themselves trying to anticipate his needs.

“Not if I can help it,” he answered unabashedly. “I hate people. I only talk to them if they make me.”

“Hmmph.” She hollowed her cheeks and looked across the crowd.

“You don’t count,” he said.

“Because I’m not a person,” she surmised.

She studied the tiara of a matron who passed them. Luli wore a pair of teardrop diamond earrings Gabriel had given her before they left. She hadn’t wanted to accept them, but he had said they were a loan—unless she decided to keep them. Which she wouldn’t. But she loved them and wished she could.

“Luli.” His tone was apologetic. He touched her arm.

She let him see that she was laughing beneath her mask of affront.

He tsked and sipped, profile filling with self-disgust as he turned his face away.

Why that was funny, she didn’t know, but it was. She laughed with open enjoyment and he looked at her with so much admiration, he melted her bones and made every other part of her sing. He was so handsome, he hurt her eyes. His chiseled face and keen stare, his barely-there hint of a cynical smile, his mussed hair that she wanted to muss even more, lingering over the feel of those fine strands between her fingers...

Save yourself for a relationship that matters. Someone special.

Did he not realize he was special?

“Gabriel!” A woman appeared beside him and snaked her touch around his arm, smooshing her breasts against his elbow. “Introduce me to your wife.”

“Brittany Farris,” he said after a brief pause. “Lucrecia Dean.”

Brittany offered air kisses and had to know everything about how they had met.

Luli had met variations of this woman before. Some girls on the pageant circuit were genuinely nice—and scared to be on their own. They did everything they could to make friends, needing bolstering and the safety of numbers. Some, like Luli, were there to win. They weren’t mean, but they didn’t make friends because feelings got hurt and friendships folded when there could be only one winner.

Then there were these kind—the ones who acted like friends, but didn’t have a nice bone in their bodies.

“Luli managed my grandmother’s business affairs for the last eight years,” Gabriel explained.

“I saw the headlines about your inheritance! You’re a trillionaire!” Her excitement was quickly schooled into a pout of sympathy. “But I’m so sorry, of course. I didn’t even know you had a grandmother, let alone a raging romance with her business manager.” She gave Luli a once-over. “You must be very shrewd if you’ve kept this relationship under wraps all this time.”

Luli did what she had done with every other witch who thought she could backhand her with a compliment.

“Gabriel called me cunning the other day, didn’t you?”

Over the rim of his glass, he asked her if that was really how she wanted to play this, as if he didn’t think she understood who she was dealing with.

“I did,” he admitted after a beat. “And I meant it.”

Someone else came up, forcing Brittany on her way. Gabriel held court for the rest of the evening, continuing to introduce her as Mae’s manager even when a professor from a prestigious design school asked if Luli had ever considered modeling, providing the perfect opportunity to talk about her pageant experience.

Gabriel squeezed her hand, however, warning her to demur.

“Every tall girl is told they must model or play basketball, aren’t they?” she said.

“Not every girl is told as vehemently as I’m telling you. I have contacts at several agencies. Gabriel, she needs to be immortalized in the pages of Vogue, wearing Chanel. You can’t let these cheekbones languish in an office.”

“Why not? Mine do,” Gabriel said with blithe conceit. “Luli is one of the best programmers I’ve come across. I’ll fight to keep her.”

She couldn’t tell if he was being sincere, but the man moved on and other people moved in.

“You’ve been quiet,” Gabriel said a few hours later, when they arrived back at his penthouse. “Was it too much?”

“No,” she murmured. “It was just a long night of being ‘on.’ My face hurts from smiling.”

“Don’t feel you have to. I don’t.”

She had read that memo in his expression of bored tolerance.

She’d seen his home earlier so she wasn’t as agog returning to it, but was still taken aback that he lived in this massive split-level mansion in the sky. The foyer led to a sunken lounge where the exterior wall held another of his spectacular aquariums. It formed the inside wall of the infinity pool outside—which looked down onto Central Park.

She lowered to the sofa, its cushion stuffed with goose down, he had informed her, when her first time sitting caused her to gasp with a sense of sinking into pure luxury. All of his furniture was custom-made for him by an Italian couture house that hand-turned legs and hand-stitched pleats into leather and velvet.

They measure me like my tailor, even ask me which side I dress, he’d drawled.

One of his servants appeared with a pot of Chinese tea, something she had confessed to craving after her breakdown in Paris. It appeared every night now, without her asking for it.

“Thank you,” she said with a warm smile for the maid.

The woman curtsied.

Luli sighed. I’m one of you, she wanted to say, but Gabriel dismissed her.

“I thought Brittany might have said something to upset you,” he said as the door closed. He shrugged out of his jacket and loosened his tie, throwing both on the back of the sofa, gaze staying fixed on her.

“When?” She set aside her shoes and wiggled her toes with relief. Then she picked up her skirt as she walked across to where the tea had been left on the bar.

“She came out of the ladies’ room after you did and smiled at me like she had sunk my battleship.”

“Please.” Luli glanced over her shoulder so he could see her brow crinkled with scorn and pity. “I know a school in Venezuela where she could learn to be a cat with actual claws.”

“So she did say something.” His voice tightened.

“She told me you slept together.” She paused in pouring, glanced at him again and saw by his tense expression that it was true. She ignored the fresh strip that admission peeled off the back of her heart. “Actually, she asked whether you had told me that you’d been lovers.” She finished pouring and set the pot aside. “I said you probably didn’t think it was important enough to mention.”

He looked away, but even in the subdued lighting she saw the twitch of his mouth.

“Then she warned me that she could blackball me among the social elite here. I told her I’d never heard the expression, but that she must feel very disappointed things hadn’t worked out between you, and maybe it was because she talked about you behind your back.” One spoon of sugar. “I said I’d ask you. She didn’t like that.”

She heard his snort.

“Then I told her I would look up blackball so I understood exactly how that works.” Her spoon clinked as she stirred.

He swore under his breath, head hanging and shoulders shaking. “Every time I worry about you, I discover you’re perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.”

“Are you?” she asked, facetious, but also with tendrils of jealousy still working its poison through her veins in thorny little stings. “Why would you sleep with someone like that? What happened to saving it for someone special?”

“I’m not a virgin.”

She turned fully around to see his hands had balled in his pockets. His jaw had hardened. All of him had.

“Is it easier to remain celibate when you know what you’re missing?” A horrifying thought occurred. “Have you been seeing someone while we’ve been—?”

“No! When would I even—We’re together all the time. I have been celibate since we met and no, it is not easy.”

“Then... How long does this marriage have to last, Gabriel? Are we supposed to wait to have sex until it’s over?”

“What are you asking? Whether you’re allowed to have sex with other people? No. Neither of us is stepping out. It’s gossip we don’t need and would jeopardize the believability of this marriage.”

“So I’m just supposed to live here with you, wondering what sex would be like?”

He closed his eyes and sounded very beleaguered. “I’ve told you why we shouldn’t have sex.”

“Because you might hurt my feelings when this is over. Well, I’ll tell you what. It hurts my feelings that you’d have sex with someone like her and can’t bring yourself to make love to me.”

“Brittany? That’s what this is about?” He shoved a hand into his hair. “People want things from me, Luli. All the time.” He spoke with the infinite weariness of a battle-scarred warrior. “Sometimes it seems simpler to sleep with someone who is transparent in their motives. I didn’t realize how much she drinks or I wouldn’t have gone near her. It lasted less than a week.”

He had said his father drank himself to death. She wanted to ask how bad it had been, but the remote cloud around him told her it had been very bad. Her heart tremored, urging her to go to him, but his stillness held her off.

“I don’t drink,” she pointed out. “No more than you do.”

“I’ve noticed. I appreciate it.”

“So...?”

“Luli. You’re far too vulnerable.”

“You just said you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Yet I do.”

“Well, I’m worried about you! You have sex with people you don’t even like.”

“That was one misjudgment. Just...give it a rest,” he sighed. “We can’t, okay? I can’t let you start thinking this is real.”

“How is having sex making this more or less real? People who are married have sex. You’re afraid that if we sleep together, I’m going to want you to fall in love with me?”

“Yes.”

She folded her arms, aching because she already wanted that. Her marriage already looked very bleak, filled with lust and craving and deep yearning while he felt...nothing.

“I can’t say I wouldn’t,” she admitted. “I’ve always wanted someone to love me.”

His expression tightened as if her words had scored a line through him. “It’s not as idyllic as it sounds, trust me.”

“How do you know? Have you loved someone?” The world tilted and nearly dropped her off the edge into cold, airless space. “Is that why—”

“No,” he said, taking her aback with his harsh tone.

“No? Not even your parents?”

“Of course my mother.” He sounded like she was yanking out his teeth.

“Not ‘of course.’ I have no feelings for my father and terrible ones toward my mother. If you loved your mother and she loved you back, that’s good.”

“Well, I have grief over the loss of my mother, because I loved her. And terrible feelings toward my father. He couldn’t handle her loss at all. It was a nightmare. Because he loved her. He railed and wept and broke things. He told me love was agony and never to let myself feel it.”

For once Gabriel had stepped outside his jaded, impervious shell. He was breathing fire, snarling and showing his claws.

“I wouldn’t bother taking the advice of a man who was drunk and slurring from ten in the morning on,” he continued, “but he would grab me and cry against my chest, fall to his knees and tell me he loved me. He made me promise never to leave, never to get hurt or get sick or die. I was seven. I didn’t know how to promise that! And I don’t know if I loved him, but I do know it was agony.”

Oh, Gabriel. She swallowed, thinking of him being confused and grieving, then picked on at school. So alone.

Until he had money. Then everyone wanted to be his friend.

She abandoned her tea and went across to him, took off her earrings and made him give her his hand so she could put them in his palm.

“I love these. They’re beautiful. But I don’t want to keep them unless you want me to have them. You’ve given me things I need, Gabriel. You’ve given me someone who listens and draws me a bath and calls me intelligent. That’s far more valuable to me than anything you could buy me.”

She closed his fingers over the earrings, then ran her thumb across the hard bumps of his knuckles. She wanted to kiss his fist, which felt silly and too impactful. Emotions suffused her that she didn’t know how to express. There was gratitude, definitely, but other nameless things that urged her to reach out and offer, search for something in him, but give up to him at the same time.

“I have nothing to give you that equals any of that.” Her voice creaked.

His mouth opened in protest, but she squeezed his hand.

“Only me,” she continued. “And I want to. It’s okay if you don’t love me. But I want to touch you and hold you and feel those things you make me feel. I want to know what it might feel like if someone did love me.”

His breath hissed in and he pulled his hand from her touch, thrusting his closed fist into his pocket.

She set her hand on his chest. “I don’t want you to protect me from you or myself. I want you to let me become the woman I want to be.”

He made a strangled noise and pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes clenched shut.

“Please?”

“I’m only a man, Luli,” he said in a rasping voice. “When this all goes to hell, I want you to remember this moment. I tried to be honorable.”