I released him with a start, but to my embarrassment my nails had made crescent marks in his tanned skin. In the quiet darkness of the office with just the two of us, it looked almost…erotic.
Heating up in mortification, I quickly turned my attention back to the laptop.
“Sorry,” I murmured as I kept my gaze firmly on the screen. “I get jumpy sometimes.”
Understatement of the year right there.
Gabriel laughed quietly, shifting to lean his weight against my desk.
“I’ve noticed.” He paused. “What does it feel like?”
“Anxiety?” I was surprised at Gabriel’s blunt question, but there was no judgment in his eyes, only curiosity… and a little bit of concern.
I paused my typing and thought carefully.
“Imagine that feeling you get when you miss a step. That sudden, split-second jolt of fear you get when you think you’re going to fall. Most people right themselves and go on their way, but for others, and for me…” I paused. “It’s like that split-second never ends. Imagine that jolt of fear, but stretched into minutes. Days and weeks and even months, and you don’t know if it’ll ever stop. That’s how it feels like to me.”
Gabriel was silent throughout, his gaze solemn and unreadable as he stared back into my eyes.
“It sounds like torture,” he finally said.
“It feels like it sometimes,” I admitted, turning back to the screen. My cheeks were warm; aside from my therapist, this was the most I ever told anyone about my anxiety.
Gabriel got my silent request to drop the topic.
“You don’t look it, but you’re pretty strong for your size,” he remarked lightly, rubbing his thumb over the skin where my nail marks still remained.
“Fear of legal repercussions tends to do that to you.” I darted a glance at him, trying to ignore how he seemed to dwarf my working area. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to grab you so hard.”
“Don’t worry about it, I think it’s kinda hot.” Before I could react to that, Gabriel jerked his chin at my laptop. “The files are done.”
“Great.”
I finished up, pulled the flash drive out and pocketed it.
We made our way back to the emergency stairs and down to the ground floor, careful to move quietly. Now that the operation was nearly over, I was beginning to feel silly about how panicked I had been. No one had come by, and nothing had happened.
“You see what I mean now?” Gabriel grinned, sensing my growing exhilaration.
My lips curved as I turned back to glance at him. “Sort of. Why does it feel so good to get away with something?”
“The fact that it’s wrong is what makes it feel good.”
“I wouldn’t know that,” I mused as I grasped the cool handle of the metal door that would lead us back to the alley. “It feels like I’ve been good my whole life.”
“Anytime you wanna remedy that, Mouse, look me up.”
I tried to come up with something in reply to his flirtatious statement, but before I could, my ears caught the sound of voices and heavy footsteps outside.
Stifling a gasp, I let go of the door and grabbed Gabriel’s hand, pulling him back where we came from. In my panic I almost missed the small space under the stairs, but I got hold of my wits in time to shove Gabriel in and scurry after him.
He could barely fit in the space, and since I pushed him in first, it meant that half my body was exposed to the sliver of orange light that crept across the dusty concrete floor from the outside. I winced when I saw that I had left the door an inch open.
The voices drew nearer, and from their conversation it sounded like they were a pair of night guards on their patrol rounds. If they noticed the door was ajar, they would surely come in to check, or worse, lock us in here.
Oh god, please don’t let them see us.
My breathing turned shallow as the voices got closer still, and when their shadows obscured the sliver of light that shone in through the gap in the door, I stopped breathing completely.
The two guards were just ten feet outside the door. They didn’t notice it was open as they smoked their cigarettes and talked about the bad weather, but all it took was one glance in the right direction and they’d find us.
Gabriel and I stayed quiet in our crouched positions, but while I was scared out of my skin, Gabriel's grin was wide enough to split his face.
He opened his mouth—presumably to say something—and in my urgency I cupped my hand over his mouth to shush him.
Gabriel went still. His lips were against my palm, his nose breathing warm air against my skin.
I gave him a wide-eyed, pleading look that begged him not to say a word, and in response he raised a brow and glanced downwards.
That’s when I realized that I was kneeling between his legs and resting my weight against his inner thigh.
I snatched my hand back like it was burned. I tried shifting gingerly away from Gabriel, but in the movement my other hand pressed against something…hard.
Gabriel was amused when I froze.
“Relax, that’s my leg,” he murmured against my ear, clearly reading what was on my mind.
I squeezed my eyes shut as embarrassment flooded me. With the combined effect of blood rushing to my face, the stale air under the staircase, and the fear of being caught, I started to feel that familiar light-headedness coming over me.
The next to follow would be shortness of breath, and then finally, a panic-attack.
Sure enough, my fingers began to twist in Gabriel’s shirt, and I started breathing through my mouth as the air in the small space we were in grew thin. I was terrified the guards would hear me, but as my panic grew, all I cared about was getting more air into my lungs.
“Hey,” Gabriel whispered, his brows furrowed in concern. “You okay?”
I shook my head, tears starting to prick in my eyes. The muscles in my back started to ache terribly, and every piece of clothing on my body seemed to be strangling me.
“No air,” I managed.
“Breathe. In and out. You’re safe, okay?”
I’m trying, I tried to say, but it felt like I was taking in too much air and not enough of it at the same time.
“Can I touch you?”
I nodded once, jerkily.
“C’mere.” Gabriel settled me fully between his legs, wrapping his warm arms around my shoulders and waist. His knees on either side of me felt as solid as bands of steel. He had me covered on all sides, but instead of feeling trapped or afraid, I instinctively nestled closer against him for protection.
“Easy, I got you,” he whispered, stroking my back in a slow and steady rhythm. “I got you. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, okay? Do you trust me?”
I nodded again, grateful that he was asking me only yes and no questions. Feeling my panic ease a little, I closed my eyes and rested my hot forehead against his neck, letting the coolness of his skin calm me.
My heart rate and breathing gradually began to return to normal, but I was content to remain against Gabriel’s chest. We were silent, but it felt natural and companionable.
For me, at least. Gabriel must be annoyed that I was still clinging onto him.
I glanced up, but he was looking out towards the door, keeping guard for anyone that might come in.
I stole the chance to study his profile. His eyelashes were so long up close, sweeping over his cut cheekbones, and his lips were full and indecently sensuous. This man truly was beautiful.
Then suddenly Gabriel turned back to me, looking right at me with that dark, searching gaze that the paparazzi never quite managed to capture in their photos.
I was too startled to move, and we simply stared at each other in surprised silence.
Then his eyes softened, and the corners of his mouth tipped up.
Gabriel smiled—not one of those rehearsed Hollywood grins he gave to the photographers. This one was warm and a little surprised, as if he was pleased that I was watching him.
> It was all too easy to fall in love with him, I realized with a start. This private version of Gabriel who patiently calmed me when I was afraid, and who smiled like he was pleased that I was here with him. I couldn’t break away from his gaze if I tried.
Slowly, Gabriel’s smile faded, but he never took his eyes off my face. His gaze grew heavy-lidded, giving way to something raw. Hungry. His hand came up to take my chin, and my breath caught in my throat as he idly ran his thumb along my bottom lip.
If not for my near panic-attack, I thought Gabriel might have kissed me at that moment.
My cheeks heated up as my traitorous gaze dropped to his lips.
I want him to.
A sharp guffaw came from outside, and the spell was broken as I ducked against Gabriel instinctively.
His hand settled against my hair, holding me close.
“They’re leaving,” he said in a low voice. His warm breath stirred the small hairs at my temple.
I nodded. “But…they might come back.”
Gabriel shifted, and for a second I was disappointed, thinking that he was going to let go of me.
But he held me close again after adjusting his arms.
“Alright,” he murmured into my hair. “Let’s stay here a little longer.”
“Okay.” My fingers tightened in his t-shirt to pull him closer. But our bodies were already pressed against each other with no space left between us.
Gabriel’s warmth spread throughout my body as he held me firm against him. I had never been so close to anyone else, and my heart slammed against my chest at the terrifyingly blissful feeling that was taking me over.
I didn’t know what that feeling meant. All I knew was that I didn’t want Gabriel to let me go.
***
I couldn’t remember the last time I was content to just be. It was a side effect from my round-the-clock schedule of events and parties, but put me in one place for too long doing nothing and I’d get restless and impatient. Like a junkie looking for his next fix I’d bounce off to the next club where I’d be surrounded by activity and noise and people again.
We’d been here for several minutes now and my legs were cramped to hell, but I was strangely content to be here with Helena Hastings in my arms, stuffed in this dusty spot under an unused stairwell. There was nowhere else I’d rather be right now, and that was a weird realization to have.
Right now Lena was resting her forehead against my neck, gently plucking away at a loose thread in the hem of my t-shirt. My arms were still wrapped around her, and my thumb was idly rubbing the curve of her waist in a wordless assurance to her that I was still here. She smelled faintly of apple shampoo.
“Sorry about the shit I said about your job,” I murmured. “You’re right. Jobs don’t grow on trees. You did what you needed to survive and that’s admirable.”
“I’m sorry too.” Lena shifted her cheek against my chest, her fingers still fiddling away with that thread. “What I did hurt you, even if I didn’t want it to.”
”No hard feelings, Mouse.” My breath stirred the wispy hairs at her temple. “We started on the wrong foot, but it doesn’t have to stay that way. And I mean it. Until you find work again, tell me if you need anything and I’ll see what I can do.”
Lena was silent for such a long time I thought she had fallen asleep. Then she said, “I do have something to ask…”
“Shoot.”
She chewed the inside of her cheek, something I noticed she did when she was thinking hard, or nervous.
“Can you change me?” she said quietly.
I blinked. “Can I what you?”
“Change me.” Lena finally looked up to meet my gaze, her face flushed so deep that it was practically red. “Make me more…” She cleared her throat. “Attractive to men.”
I must have looked like a total dumbass, because I still didn’t get it. “What do you mean?”
Lena shifted between my legs, making it even harder for me to think.
“I’m too shy, and I don’t exactly dress well,” she said, keeping her eyes firmly on my neck. “It feels like I’ve just been scared my whole life. I want to be spontaneous! I want to talk to guys without breaking into a cold sweat, and I want to learn to—” She swallowed. “To f…”
F…? I stared at her, wondering if I was dreaming this whole thing up.
“To fuck?” I finally managed.
“Flirt!” Lena burst out, horrified. “I meant flirt!”
“Right.” I nodded, blinking several times to clear my head. “Right, obviously. I mean it’s not like I can teach you to f—uh, have sex, unless we actually—I mean, that’s something obviously you already know, so…”
Lena turned even redder.
Oh, fuck me.
“Hastings.” I choked on my laughter despite her earnestness. “This is a conversation I’d be happy to have in other circumstances, but not like this.”
“I wasn’t asking you to sleep with me,” Lena protested weakly.
“And trust me, I won’t say no if you ever do.” I forced myself to contain my laughter, but a couple of snorts slipped out.
Lena gave me an owl-like look of reproachful, and that just made it even harder for me.
“I have a couple of rules,” I finally choked out. “Firstly, I don’t mess with virgins, and second, you can do better than me for your first time.”
“Not. Asking. You. To.” Lena gritted every word.
“Thirdly. I’m not gonna help you change yourself to land a guy. You either do it for yourself, or not at all.”
“I’m doing it for myself,” she said, but she looked unconvinced.
I raised a brow. “Helena, if you’re changing yourself for others, do me a favor. Don’t. Being surrounded by people who only give a damn about how good you look and act is the shittiest feeling there is. At the end of it all, you’re still alone.”
“I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t for other people,” Lena admitted. “But it’s mostly for me, I think.”
“You sure it’s not for Cam?”
I wasn’t sure why I brought him up again. Guess I just wanted to get a rise out of her.
Lena‘s face turned pink again.
“Of course not,” she murmured in a totally unconvincing way, and I had to admit, that pissed me off a little.
“What kind of guy are you into, anyway?” I countered. “Don’t get me wrong, Cam’s literally like a brother to me, but he’s not exactly in line for Boyfriend of the Year.”
Lena was surprised at my sudden annoyance, but then her features softened as she idly traced the hem of my t-shirt.
“I’d like someone kind,” she said quietly. “Someone protective, who looks out for other people. Someone who is patient and would never make fun or laugh at me.”
“And you've found that in Cameron Lancaster, the same guy who once bankrupted a family empire so he could get his hands on their business?” I raised my brow. “Are we talking about the same person here?”
Lena was instantly defensive. “Why are you so adamant that I’m in love with him?”
“Because it’s written all over your face.”
“Fine, you win.” Lena shook her head like she was tired of arguing. “I’m in love. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Not really. Not by a long shot.
“Will you help me?” she continued. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“Ah, fine. What the hell,” I muttered. If anyone had to teach Lena to flirt it might as well be me. “You’ll be a distraction for me.” I angled my head and made a frame around her face with my fingers and thumbs. “Some new clothes for sure, and we definitely gotta work on your posture.”
“My posture?” Lena glanced down at herself. “What’s wrong with my posture?”
“Well, you kinda do this a lot.” I slumped my shoulders forward. “Like you want to disappear into yourself.”
“I don’t do that!”
I grinned as Lena tried to pull her should
ers back with a worried expression on her face. It wouldn’t be hard to work something out for her. Her posture could be changed easily, and her frame wouldn’t be hard to dress for.
The only thing I couldn’t figure out was her hair.
“Mouse, can you take down your hair for a sec? I wanna see what we can do with it.”
“I’d rather not change it,” Lena hedged. “I've worn it like this my whole life. And why do you keep calling me Mouse?”
“Because they’re small and shy but they deal a whole lot of damage.” I narrowed my eyes and tried to imagine Lena when she was little, but all I could picture was a smaller version of her now; a quiet, bespectacled, skittish toddler-librarian.
“Well, one thing’s for sure. Your confidence is something we gotta work on.” I gave her an encouraging nod. “Go on, let’s see how it looks when it’s down.”
Lena made a long-suffering grimace. “Must I?”
“You gotta rip off that bandaid sooner or later, Mouse. Here, I’ll help you.”
“I haven’t washed my hair,” Lena protested.
“I’ve touched nastier things with these hands than day-old hair,” I said cheerfully.
Lena sat in morose silence, but she let me take out the hair tie securing her bun and unravel her hair.
The locks came loose immediately. I tried to spread out the smooth blonde waves, but I knocked her glasses off by accident.
“I got it.” I located the glasses where they lay on the floor by her knees and picked them up. “See, it’s not so bad, is it—”
My words left me when I glanced back at Lena. All the air was snatched out of my lungs.
She was peering up at me in worry, with locks upon locks of pale moonlight hair tumbling over her shoulders and her forehead. They were thick and heavy, spilling across my fingers in pale, shimmering rivers. There was so much more of it than I’d realized. The long waves curled over her shoulders and fell down to her waist, tousled in a way that was completely innocent yet strangely erotic.
With her glasses gone there was no barrier hiding her away now. Faint imprints marked her gentle nose bridge, and her slim lips were parted from her shallow breaths. Her skin was so clear it looked translucent, and without her glasses her eyes were wide and dazed, two twin pools of light blue-grey blinking hazily back at me.
Charming (New York Heirs #3) Page 8