Читать книгу Captured by the Billionaire / Sold Into Marriage - Maureen Child - Страница 10

Three

Debbie sighed in her sleep, rolled onto her side and cuddled into the warm, hard body beside her. Her head nestled in the curve of a strong shoulder, she kept her eyes closed despite the wash of light she sensed beyond her eyelids.

Morning, and she wasn’t ready to get up and go to work. Her mind drifted, focused and drifted again. She was just so comfortable she didn’t want to think about moving just yet. She’d much rather—

“Comfy?”

She knew that voice.

Her eyes flew open even as she practically flew back and away from Gabe’s warm, naked body. Amusement colored his features but something deeper flashed in his eyes. Hunger. She recognized it because it was sputtering into dancing flames inside her own body.

“What were you doing?” she demanded, shoving one hand through her hair while she scooted back to the edge of the mattress.

“Sleeping. What were you doing?” One corner of his mouth quirked into a half smile that tugged at Debbie’s insides just as it once had.

God, ten years and he could still make her quiver with a look. What was it about him that she’d never found in anyone else? And how was she going to stay close to him without getting close to him?

What a mess.

“Nothing,” she muttered thickly. “I wasn’t doing anything I was just—nothing.” She slipped out of bed, grabbed up the shorts she’d taken off the night before and tugged them up over her white lace panties. She didn’t feel safe until she had those shorts zipped and buttoned.

For heaven’s sake, she’d been practically laying on top of the man. All cuddled in like she belonged in his arms. He’d felt strong and warm and…safe. But hey, a person couldn’t be held responsible for what they did in their sleep, could they?

He propped himself up on one elbow and the thick white duvet fell down his body to puddle just at his hips. Debbie closed her eyes tight and prayed he wouldn’t move any more. She just wasn’t up to another peek at a naked Gabe.

He grinned then, as if he knew just what she was thinking.

“If you’re interested in a little morning wake-up, all you have to do is say so.”

“I’m not interested, but thanks for the generous offer,” she quipped, and hoped to heaven her voice didn’t sound as shaky as it felt. “That—” she waved one hand at him “—didn’t mean anything and you don’t have to look so pleased with yourself.” She swung her hair back from her face and tried to look a lot more self-controlled than she felt at the moment. “I was sleeping. Didn’t realize that was you next to me and—”

“Ah.” He interrupted her again and threw back the duvet in one easy motion.

Debbie swallowed hard, but refused to close her eyes. She wasn’t going to let him know that his nudity bothered her.

Man, he looked really good.

“So what you’re saying,” he continued as he stood and stretched lazily, “is that in your sleep, you’ll snuggle up to whatever warm body’s available?”

“Yes.” She frowned, distracted by the play of golden sunlight over his bronzed, rippled chest and abdomen and his hard and ready—don’t look. “No. That’s not what I—” She blew out a breath, forced herself to keep her gaze locked with his. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Is that wrong?” He grinned at her.

Debbie crossed her arms over her chest and tapped the toe of one foot against the gleaming hardwood floor. “Yes. All of this is wrong.”

Staring at her, he reminded her, “You were the one cozying up to me, Deb. Wasn’t the other way around.”

“I’m not talking about that,” she snapped, then sighed heavily. “Do you mind getting dressed?”

“Am I making you nervous?”

She smirked at him. Not for all the money in the world would she admit to him that he wasn’t making her nervous at all—he was making her very…needy. “No. It’s just not easy holding a conversation with a naked man.”

One eyebrow lifted. “We don’t have to have a conversation…” “Oh, yes we do.” Fine. If he wouldn’t get dressed, she’d turn around. No point in making herself crazy by trying to avoid staring at all of that tanned, muscled skin. No tan lines, either. God. Did he sunbathe naked, too? Oo-oh. She closed her eyes and muffled a groan at the mental image rising up in her brain.

To cool herself off, to try to gather up the tattered threads of rational thought, she started talking again. “Last night, I agreed to come here because I didn’t want to stay in the jail.”

“So?”

“So…” Debbie stared at the painting on the pale blue wall opposite her. A beach scene at sunset, with deep, rich colors streaming across a canvas sky and drizzling onto ocean waves whipped by an unseen wind. “So how long do I have to stay here?”

She heard him moving around the room behind her and only hoped that getting dressed was part of his game plan.

“That depends.”

“On?”

“On how long it takes for you to be cleared of suspicion.”

“Oh, come on, Gabe.”

When he didn’t answer, she whirled around, saw that he’d pulled on those silky pajama bottoms, and blew out a grateful breath. Then she followed him as he walked out onto the tiled terrace off the bedroom.

The shining red tiles felt cold beneath her bare feet, but the sun was already climbing in a cloudless blue sky. In the distance, the ocean stretched out in front of the resort and flashes of colored sails on swift-moving boats caught her eye. Directly below them and to the left was a golf course, so deep and rich a green it almost hurt to look at it, and on the right, stone paths wound through carefully tended shrubs and flowers, leading to the pool area and the beach beyond.

“This place is amazing.”

He swiveled his head to look at her. A brief smile curved his mouth then disappeared an instant later. “Thanks. I like it.”

She smiled and shifted her gaze to the sweep of green where a couple of early golfers were steering a red-and-white cart down a path. “You used to talk about having a place like this. Remember?”

She flicked a glance at him in time to see his smile fade and a shutter drop over his eyes. “I remember. Look, Deb. I’m not interested in a forced march down memory lane, all right?”

“Yeah, sure.” His instant withdrawal stung a little. But could she blame him?

He pushed off the railing, walked into his bedroom and threw words back over his shoulder like crumbs to a hungry pigeon. “I’ll contact the authorities in Bermuda. See if they’ve got any more information on the jewel thief.”

“Gabe, you know that’s not me. Right?”

He stopped and glanced at her. “Doesn’t matter what I know, Deb. All that matters is what you can prove.”

“How’m I supposed to prove I’m innocent?”

Nodding, he acknowledged, “Good question. You should get to work on that right away.”

“Aren’t you going to help me?”

“I’m letting you stay with me.”

She shot a look at the mile-wide bed and then looked at him again. “Yeah, about that. Is there a guest room—”

He laughed. “Why in the hell would I bother to have a guest room in my suite?” Shaking his head, he waved both arms and reminded her, “I live in a hotel, Deb. All the rooms here are guest rooms.”

Good point. “Okay, let me have my old room then.”

“No can do.” He opened the top drawer of a sleek, polished dresser, pulled out a pair of black boxers, then slammed the drawer closed again. “As long as you’re here, you’re my responsibility. You stay where I can keep an eye on you or you go back to jail. You choose. Right now, I’m gonna grab a shower, then get to work.”

She really hated this. Hated that she was caught up in something she couldn’t control. Hated that she needed Gabe and really hated that he was so getting a charge out of giving her a hard time over it. And she hated knowing that she sort of felt safe with Gabe. She wasn’t nearly as scared as she should be, because Gabe was right here, snarling at her. And looking way too sexy.

But she had no other choice. No way was she going back to jail. So she’d have to find a way to stay with Gabe without giving in to the feelings he could still inspire in her.

Sure.

No problem.

Oh, she was in serious trouble here.

“Fine,” she said on a deep breath. “I’ll stay.”

“Glad that’s settled. Call downstairs. They probably brought your bags from the airport last night.”

“Okay, then what?”

He shrugged. “Take a shower. Get dressed.”

“And then?”

“Hell if I know.”

He turned to walk into the huge bathroom jutting off the master bedroom and stopped when she called, “But what am I supposed to do about all this?”

He sighed and said, “I’ll make some calls later. See what I can find out.”

“Thanks.”

He didn’t answer, just walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Alone again, Debbie looked around the empty room and wondered just how long she was going to be a prisoner in this palace.

* * *

“Jewel thief?” Janine’s voice shrieked over the phone line and Debbie felt better just hearing her friend’s fury. “Is he crazy? You’re no thief.”

Smiling, Debbie leaned back in her chair and took her first easy breath since being stopped at the airfield the day before. It was good to hear someone else’s belief in her. “Thanks.”

“Everybody knows you’re too clumsy to be a jewel thief,” Janine added. “You’d never make a living.”

Debbie scowled at the phone in her hand and muttered, “Thanks again.”

“Well, come on,” Janine said on a laugh now, “you’ve gotta admit, jewel thieves have to be sneaky. You trip over your own feet.”

“Okay,” Debbie said, hoping to cut short Janine’s amusement. “But let’s pretend the authorities don’t know that I’m a clod and figure out how I can prove to them that I’m not this thief they’re looking for.”

The restaurant by the beach was, as with most everything else at Fantasies, done in a red-and-white decor. White tables shone in the sunlight, red carnations sprouted from white vases in the center of every table. The servers wore Hawaiian-print shirts, also in red and white, and the crowd around Debbie was relaxed, celebratory.

As she had been only a few days ago.

That was, until she’d been arrested.

“Oh, God.” Debbie stifled a groan.

“Right, right. But whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?”

“Wish I knew.”

Janine heaved a sigh that carried all the way from Long Beach to the beachside restaurant on Fantasies. “You say the owner of the resort is helping you?”

“That’s what he says,” Debbie told her, but privately she wondered. Gabe had no reason to be kind to her.

But she’d done what she’d believed she had to do to save both of them from more pain further down the road back then. Did she wish things could have been different? Of course. But that didn’t change a damn thing, did it?

“You don’t think he is?”

“I don’t know.” Debbie grabbed her glass of iced tea, took a long drink to ease the tightness in her throat and kept her gaze focused on the beach, so she didn’t have to look at any of the other people seated in the restaurant. “I really don’t.”

She took a breath and blew it out in a rush. “Janine, it’s Gabe.”

A second passed, then…

“What? Gabe? You mean the owner? Gabe?”

“Yes, yes and yes.”

“Oh, crap.”

“Exactly.” Debbie traced the tip of one finger through the water ring her iced tea had left on the glass tabletop.

“Is he still mad?” Janine asked.

“He says no.”

“Well, of course he’s gonna say he’s not still angry. If he was still mad ten years later that makes him either a psycho or a big weenie.”

While Janine ranted, Debbie’s brain raced. Of course her girlfriends both knew about Gabe. They’d met him a few times back in the day, though she and Gabe had mostly preferred being alone back then. But her girlfriends had consoled her after the breakup and whenever she’d doubted the decision she’d made, they’d assured her she’d done the right thing.

“I can’t believe Gabe owns Fantasies,” Janine was saying. “And that we never saw him while we were there. Was he hiding? Is he hideously disfigured or something?”

“A million times no,” Debbie said on a groan.

“Still hot, huh?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Well…” Janine’s voice went thoughtful. “This puts a new spin on things, doesn’t it?”

“Kind of, I guess. But the point is, I don’t know what to do. Should I get a lawyer or something?”

“Beats me,” Janine admitted, then offered, “I’ll ask Max. Maybe he’ll have some clue.”

“Okay, good.” That was something concrete. And hey, got them off the subject of Gabe and her own brief incarceration. “And speaking of Max, everything okay with you guys?”

“Only slightly wonderful,” Janine said, and Debbie heard the near purr in her friend’s voice. “He’s helping me pack for the move to England—no, wait. Make that, he’s paying people to help me pack.”

“Works just as well.”

“Yeah. He’s really great, Deb. I mean, amazing and he’s gonna fly you and Cait to London for the wedding, which is turning into like a three-ring circus, by the way, because Max is this big deal in business over there and—”

“That’s great, honey,” Debbie cut her off without a qualm. After all, she was delighted her friend was so happy, but she had the little problem of oh, say, prison facing her at the moment. “But selfishly, back to me…”

“Right, right. Okay, I’ll talk to Max. Then I’ll call Cait. Maybe Lyon can do something, too.”

Her other best friend, Caitlyn, was now engaged to her boss, Jefferson Lyon, who had plenty of connections in fairly high circles, so Debbie was prepared to take all the help she could get. Even if it was so damned embarrassing to have to ask for that help.

“Great. Fabulous. Now everyone will know I’m a felon.” Debbie’s chin hit her chest as visions of herself dressed in an old movie version of a black-and-white-striped prison uniform flashed through her mind. “I don’t look good in horizontal stripes.”

Janine laughed, clearly understanding exactly what her friend had been talking about. “Horizontal stripes are nobody’s friend. Don’t worry, Deb. We’ll get this straightened out in no time. Until then, try to enjoy yourself. You’re still at Fantasies. Make the most of it. And, hey, maybe you should make the most of being close to Gabe again.”

Her body sizzled. Not a good sign. “That’s so not gonna happen.”

“Well, at least keep him happy, since he’s the guy in charge of the jail key!”

“Right.” She hung up, listened to the sigh of the waves rushing toward shore, the screech of the seabirds, and the conversations ebbing and flowing all around her. Enjoy herself. Sure.

No problem.

Gabe had plenty to keep him occupied. Even with a first-class manager and staff, there was work to be done. But doing that work while his brain kept circling around Debbie was no small task.

He knew damn well she wasn’t a jewel thief. The only reason she was still on his island was that he wasn’t finished with her. Yet. And if she thought she was trapped here, then so much the better.

Leaning back in his office chair, he swung around to look out the wide window behind him. His view of the golf course and the ocean beyond didn’t soothe him as it usually did. Normally, he reveled in the knowledge that he’d made all of his crazy-ass dreams come true. He’d built an empire out of luck, talent and sheer grit, and he enjoyed the hell out of his life. It was everything he’d always planned for it to be.

But now, with Deb here on his island, he had the chance to settle a score that had niggled at the back of his mind for far too long. Ten years ago, she’d taken his heart and crushed it. Now, she was going to see just what kind of man she’d helped to create.

Ever since he’d seen her with her girlfriend down at the pool, he’d been thinking about her. Remembering things he hadn’t allowed himself to recall in years. And if there was one thing he’d learned, it was that looking back served no purpose at all. The only thing that mattered was the present and the future you created for yourself.

Still…

There was a part of him that called for vengeance. Fate had handed him a golden opportunity and he hadn’t become the success he had by ignoring quirks of fate. Besides, in that small, dark corner of his heart, he wanted to make Debbie sorry she’d ever walked away from him. And until he’d done that, he wouldn’t let her go.

“Mr. Vaughn?”

His assistant’s voice cut through his thoughts and Gabe turned to scowl at the woman standing in the open doorway. About fifty years old, she was tall, thin and so organized, she would have made a great general. She’d been with him for the last five years and probably knew even more about his businesses than he did. “What is it, Beverly?”

“There’s a woman here to see you. A Debbie Harris?”

He smirked. Debbie never had been a patient woman. “Send her in.”

Almost before the words were out of his mouth, Debbie was slipping past Beverly and striding into the office. “Thanks, Bev. That’s all.”

The woman sniffed in displeasure, but backed out and closed the door. When she was gone, Gabe fixed his gaze on Debbie and wished he didn’t care about how good she looked. She was wearing a soft, blue sundress with thin straps over her tanned shoulders. The hem of the dress hit her midthigh and her heeled sandals gave her an extra inch or two of height. Her blond hair was pulled into a silver clip at the nape of her neck and hung in loose waves down to the center of her back.

And his only thought was, he’d like to bury his hands in that hair, pull her head to his and—maybe keeping her here hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

“What is it, Deb?”

“Gabe, I need to know what you’re doing about this.” She moved around the office, trailing her fingers across glossy tables, stopping to peer at the jam-packed, rigidly aligned bookshelves and then moving eventually to the wall of windows behind him. She stared out at the opulent view and while she looked at the ocean, Gabe looked at her.

“I made a few calls,” he lied smoothly. There was no one to call. The authorities weren’t really interested in her. Her resemblance to the jewel thief supposedly running around the islands meant nothing to them. Gabe was the only thing keeping Debbie on this island. And she wasn’t going anywhere until he was good and ready to see her leave.

“And?” she asked.

“And…nothing so far.” He saw the helplessness glint in her eyes as he added, “The authorities are looking into the situation.”

She shook her head slowly, sadly. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

A quick twist of something that might have been guilt shot through him as fast as a lightning flash. He ignored it. “Don’t worry.”

“Easy for you to say.”

Easier than she knew.

She chewed at her bottom lip in a nervous gesture he recognized and Gabe knew how worried she was. Guilt threatened again and was ruthlessly squashed. Hell, he wasn’t hurting her. He was just giving her a hard time for a few days. Soon enough, she’d be back to her life and he’d have had the revenge he was due.

Watching her, as she stood so closely and yet so far from him, it finally came to Gabe just how to exact the payback his pride demanded. He was going to seduce her. Make her want him as he had once so desperately wanted her. And when she was limp with desire, ready to beg him to take her back…he’d cut her loose as surgically as she had done to him so long ago.

If that meant he would be forced to hold her captive on the island for a while longer, then that’s just what he’d do. As he’d already told her…he owned the island and everything on it. Here, he made the rules.

“I called my friend Janine,” she was saying, “and she said she’d get her fiancé to look into this for me, but I don’t know what Max can do.”

“Max?” he asked.

“Max Striver. He’s—”

“I know Max,” Gabe interrupted, and wondered if his old friend really had taken the plunge and proposed to the cute little brunette he’d spent so much time with in the last few weeks.

“You know him?”

“For a few years. And I never would have thought he’d get married again. Are you sure about this?”

“Hmm? What? Oh, yeah. Apparently he followed Janine home to Long Beach and proposed. They’re getting married in London in a few weeks.”

“Amazing,” he mused, sitting on the corner of his desk. Of course, looking back, he could see that Max had been drawn deeper and deeper into the relationship with the woman he’d been paying to pretend to be his wife. Strange that now she’d be his wife for real. “He always said he’d never marry again.”

“People change,” she said lightly.

“Apparently.” He shouldn’t have been so surprised, really. He’d known that Max’s father had been after him to marry and start building on the family dynasty.

Debbie was staring at him, a question in her eyes. “You never got married?”

“No.” He stiffened, then forced himself to release the swift punch of tension gripping him. He hadn’t thought of marriage again until recently. But that wasn’t part of this conversation.

“Gabe…”

“Forget it,” he said, not wanting to hear her explanation of why she’d turned down his marriage proposal ten years ago. It was over. And now, his life was different. He was different. He wasn’t an eager young man following his heart anymore. Now he made decisions based on logic. Cool, clear logic.

“We should talk about it,” she said. “About what happened between us.”

“No point,” he said. “It’s over and done. Let it go. I have.”