Gabriella's Prosecution [The Black Iris Club 3] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

by Skye Michaels

  “Dinner was wonderful. Thank you.”

  “It was my pleasure, Gabriella. I enjoyed it also. I think there are a lot of things we could enjoy together.” He saw her tense up. “Don’t worry, querida. I would never do anything you didn’t enjoy. I have a very stringent personal code.”

  “I’m sure you do, Miguel. I just wouldn’t want to rush into anything.”

  “Querida, when I take you, there will be nothing rushed about it.” He smiled that devastating smile again. “Don’t look so concerned, Gabriella. There is nothing to be worried about.” She had that doe-in-the-headlights look again. He had better back the intensity down a bit.

  The jazz was relaxing, and he could see her start to melt back into the soft leather seat. The wine and good meal were having the desired effect. He pulled the car onto a side street and parked along the beach. “Would you like to walk for a bit? I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs and walking off some of that meal.”

  She nodded, and he helped her out of the car and held her arm while she took off her shoes. He dropped their shoes in the trunk with her handbag, grabbed a beach towel, beeped the lock, and dropped the key fob into his pocket. Then he took her hand as they headed for the sand. After they had walked about a quarter mile north along the surf, he stopped and put the big beach towel on the dry sand above the tide line. He sank down and pulled her onto the towel. The time for conversation was over. He took her into his arms and rolled her under him. He took her mouth with the passion he had been holding in all evening. She tasted of the good red wine they had been drinking and the sweet cappuccino that had finished their meal. Her mouth was soft and tentative as she answered his. He nibbled at her lips and down her long, graceful neck to the tops of her breasts. “You are so sweet, Gabriella. Sometimes I can’t believe what a tigress you are in court.”

  * * * *

  Gabriella moaned as he deepened the kiss. She hadn’t intended to let things go so far tonight. She knew she had to be cautious here, but to be honest, she didn’t feel like being cautious. There was something dangerously seductive about Miguel Juan Carlos Gatto-Alba. It was right out there. No question. He was a sexy, domineering, alpha male in control of his life and world, and possibly in control of her. She knew she had to put on the brakes, or she would be lost in his kiss, in his touch.

  “Miguel, let’s slow this down a little bit. I’m not ready to sleep with you.”

  “Who said anything about sleeping?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I do, querida, but I will make that decision when we both are ready.”

  “And I don’t have anything to say about it?” She didn’t like the sound of this.

  “Of course you do. I just meant I would know when the time was right for both of us to take this further. I will always put your needs first, querida, and you will know exactly what you are getting into before I do. Now lay back and relax. It’s not going to happen tonight, although we may both wish it had.”

  “You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you, Miguel?”

  “Yes. Very sure. Now hush and let me kiss you.” His lips came back to hers, and he plundered her mouth as his beautiful hands coasted down over her breasts. His touch was firm and confident as he drifted down to the hem of her dress. Before she knew it, he had pushed it up to her waist. She would be in trouble if she let him get too much further. His questing fingers slipped under the lace edge of her thong and found her wet pussy. Oh, no. There was no hiding her reaction to him. His fingers brushed her pussy, and a quiver surged through her. The man had talented fingers. “Relax, baby.”

  “Miguel…”

  “Gabriella, let me provide the dessert we didn’t have in the restaurant.” He kissed her again, and she moaned into his mouth. “I won’t take it further than this.” She didn’t know why she trusted him to keep his word, but she did. Miguel didn’t say things he didn’t mean.

  She jerked under his hand when he grazed her clit. Moisture flooded her sex. He had homed right in on the spot. She felt her resolve beginning to ebb along with the tide. The moon was waning, and the beach was dark. They were completely alone, their only company some sea birds roosting in the sea grass at the top of the dunes.

  He continued to play with her, bringing her to the edge of coming and then backing down the pressure until she was reaching for his touch. “I can do this for hours, querida. I can have you almost there and then begging me to finish. I can teach you much about pleasure.”

  * * * *

  Pleasure and pain, Miguel thought. You have much to learn, little one. He had wanted Gabriella since the first day he had seen her in his office. He intensified his touch until her hips were arched off the towel. Then he plunged his fingers into her tight, wet slit and found her G-spot. He ruthlessly stroked it until she broke around him. She moaned and tossed her head as he continued the stimulation through a second orgasm. Finally, he let her come down. He pulled her into his arms and cuddled her against his chest. He knew she had to be cold. The December night, though still mild for a Florida winter, was chilly. He took his jacket off and wrapped her in it. He would always take care of his sub, although she didn’t know that was what she was going to be. He could take his time. Gabriella was a prize worth waiting and working for.

  * * * *

  Gabby relaxed against his chest. This was not exactly what she had expected. Truthfully, she had not known exactly what to expect. Two orgasms and the man hadn’t taken off his clothes. What could he do to her naked in a bed? Did she want to find out? The answer to that had to be yes. She just wasn’t quite ready to begin the journey.

  Chapter Three

  The State’s Attorney’s Office in the Broward County Courthouse, Fort Lauderdale, Florida, Monday morning, December 22, 2014

  On Monday morning, Gabby was in the office early. She had a pile of work to review for the upcoming Toros trial. Her team had been busy, and the work had begun to pile up. Miguel had kept his word on Friday night. He had taken her home, kissed her silly on her deck, and then left her somewhat bemused. He called her on Sunday afternoon, and they chatted on the phone for over an hour. He hadn’t asked to see her.

  At midmorning he buzzed her phone. “Come into my office with your working Toros file. Let’s go over it. I’ll have my secretary call out for sandwiches for our lunch.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I like the sound of that coming from your lips, Gabriella.” I bet you do. She shook her head. This promised to get very interesting.

  When she walked into the office with her arms full of files, he got up from his desk, closed, and locked his door. He took the files, put them on his desk, and then pulled her into his arms. He kissed her lightly, coaxing a response from her. When he let her come up for air he said, “Good morning, querida. I missed you yesterday.” He handed her a cup of coffee and held the chair for her before she could form a protest. She was going to have to be careful in his office. She didn’t want everyone to know she was fooling around with the boss.

  He unlocked the door again, and they carefully reviewed the files. He asked her what her plan of action was, what discovery motions had been filed by the defense counsel so far, and what depositions and interviews she had scheduled.

  After answering his queries she said, “I’ve started to work up my opening statement and a preliminary outline for my closing statements. I know it’s early for that, and they will need revision. It helps me organize my thoughts and my plan for the trial.”

  “Excellent, Gabriella. It always pays to think several steps ahead. What discovery has the defense provided to us so far?”

  She went over all of the pleadings in the file to date. She had to admit that laying it out for him helped her see the case more clearly. He really was good at his job, both as a prosecutor himself and as the boss keeping a hand on the tiller. She was beginning to appreciate him. Before he had just been her demanding, annoying boss. Now she could see the reasoning behind some of his actions. She wondered why she ha
d never seen that before. Maybe his dominant nature had just annoyed or frightened her. It could have been a fight or flight reaction.

  The sandwiches were delivered just before noon. Thank goodness he had unlocked the door. That would have been supremely embarrassing. They settled back down at the conference table in his office and continued reviewing the files.

  “Do you have plans for Christmas weekend? If not, I’d like you to spend next weekend with me starting with Christmas Eve. What do you say?”

  “That would be lovely, Miguel, but I don’t have anyone to dog sit Murphy.” That was a good excuse. She wasn’t sure she was ready for a long weekend with Miguel Gatto.

  “Of course, Murphy is welcome as well. I wouldn’t leave my dogs at home for an entire weekend either unless there was someone there to take care of them.”

  “Well…Christmas Eve I always deliver bags of apples to Fox Run for all the horses. And I have to bring out Ollie’s presents.” She was running out of excuses. Did she want to spend a long weekend with Miguel? She knew she would end up in his bed. That was a foregone conclusion. If the way her body was tingling from one brief kiss and some heated glances was any indication, the answer to that question would be “yes.”

  “Really? I didn’t know you rode. That’s something else we have in common. If you like, we can make your apple drop and perhaps pick up Ollie and trailer him out to my barn for the weekend. What breed is he?”

  “Oliver J. Hardy, also known as Ollie, is a red roan Appaloosa gelding with blue eyes and a red mane and tail. He has a white blanket on his hindquarters and a brown patch around one eye. I’ve had him for five years.”

  “I’m familiar with Fox Run. I did a reining seminar with my Andalusian, Quixote, in their covered arena a couple of years ago. My farm isn’t far from there. I live on Mustang in Southwest Ranches. There are plenty of good places to ride. We can trail ride, and I have a training ring.”

  She sighed. “Okay. You’ve talked me into it. How can I turn down a weekend retreat for my dog and horse?”

  “I hope you also want to spend some time with me, querida.”

  She smiled at him. “I guess I do.”

  Miguel smiled. He loved it when a plan came together.

  Chapter Four

  Fox Run Ranch in Davie, Florida, Wednesday afternoon, Christmas Eve, December 24, 2014

  Gabby pulled into the barnyard at Fox Run Ranch and hopped out of her Chrysler Pacifica SUV. Ollie’s head was hanging out of his stall window, and he greeted her with a soft snuffle. It didn’t matter what time she arrived, or how many days she had not seen him, he always recognized the sound of her car engine and was waiting. She walked to the window with a carrot in her hand. “Hi, big boy. Long time no see.” She hadn’t had time to get to the ranch all week. She hated that, but it was a fact of life. Thank goodness the owner of the ranch took such good care of her boy. She knew she could depend on Toby when things got crazy as they would during the trial. Ollie snarfled down the carrot and began to nudge her for more. There was absolutely no such thing as too many carrots. She often joked that an overabundance of carrots was the reason his coloring was so red. Of all the treats, carrots and apples were his favorites—except of course for big, juicy slices of watermelon. A girl had to take care of her best friend.

  She had just opened the back of the SUV to let Murphy out and to unload several five-pound bags of apples. Toby would dispense them to all the horses on the ranch with their feed on Christmas morning. It was a tradition that many of the other boarders at the ranch also observed. When she came out, she always had a five-pound bag of carrots or apples to share.

  She was lifting two of the bags when Miguel pulled into the yard. He drove a big, white Ford 350 dually with a matching four-horse, slant-load trailer with “Quixote Acres” painted on the side in dark blue script. It was an impressive rig. He jumped down from the cab of the truck and took the bags from her arms before he leaned in and kissed her hard on the mouth. Gabby could see several of the other boarders and Toby curiously glancing in their direction. There was no place more gossipy than a barn—except perhaps the State’s Attorney’s Office. She frequently had guests visit the farm, and Kaylin often came out to ride with her. However, she had never brought a man out before. That was bound to cause speculation. She knew Toby would be thrilled. She was always telling Gabby she should find a good man.

  “Hello, querida.” He kissed her lightly again. “Let’s see this Ollie of yours.” She grinned. Miguel was a horseman. Horsemen wanted to look at horses.

  They walked into the barn, and Gabby introduced Miguel to several of her fellow boarders and to Toby, who was grinning like a loon. She caught the look that passed between a few of the other women whose eyes were all but bugged out of their heads. She had to admit that while Miguel looked fabulous in a three-piece, handmade, European suit, he looked even better in a pair of well-worn, butt-hugging jeans and cowboy boots. His black, long-sleeved T-shirt stretched across the muscles of his arms and chest, outlining them in bas relief. His wavy black hair was ruffled by the breeze, and his bright-blue eyes sparkled. She had to grin. The barn was going to be buzzing about this for weeks.

  When they approached Ollie’s stall, the big red Appaloosa put his head over the door, took the carrot that Miguel offered him, and promptly shoved his muzzle into the center of Miguel’s chest. He stumbled back and laughed. “Protecting your territory from another male? That’s okay, fella. I’m not going to take your woman away from you.”

  Gabby just shook her head. Ollie was of the firm opinion that she belonged to him, and not the other way around. They made quick work of loading her saddle and tack into the dressing room at the front of the trailer and loading Ollie into one of the slots in the back. He was tied in place with a fat flake of T&A hay in front of him for the short drive to Miguel’s farm. They wished everyone a Merry Christmas, and Gabby left a gaily wrapped package in front of Ollie’s stall. The tag on the ribbon said, “From: Ollie, To: Toby” with a line of X’s and O’s. She had already tipped the stall cleaner and the weekend feed-person last week. Gabby firmly believed that you took care of those who took care of you and yours. She knew that Toby would love the strand of fat, white freshwater pearls she had chosen on Ollie’s instructions.

  The drive to Quixote Acres was a short one. Miguel’s home was impressive. She followed him through the electronic gates and around the two-story Spanish-style house set on what looked like at least ten acres to the matching ten-stall barn at the back. Both the house and the barn were painted a deep gold and sported red, barrel-tile roofs. She parked in front of the barn, got out of her SUV and looked around. “Wow, Miguel. This is a lot of house for a single man.”

  “Well, I don’t plan to be single forever, querida. I bought the house at auction after it was seized from a well-known Columbian drug lord. He and a good many of his associates are currently residing in the federal pen. I know my neighbors were glad to see him relocated. The drug deliveries to the helipad at the back of the property probably disturbed a good many of their nights.”

  “Really? I didn’t know that you had purchased a seized property.”

  “I bought the property before I was elected. As a matter of fact, the Toros used to pick up drug shipments here and move them out of the area via convoys on I-75. They had a lot of cojones, to say the least. The DEA finally rounded a good number of them up. The Toros Rojas trial is actually an indirect result of those arrests. As you know, the Hondurans tried to move in and pick up some of the Toros’ territory, and that resulted in increased gang warfare. The shooting of Juan Martinez was just part of the gang violence that ensued.”

  They quickly unloaded Ollie and put him into a freshly bedded stall with a pad of hay in the hanging hay net. Her tack was moved into the tack room at the end of the aisle. They stood outside Ollie’s stall while he rolled in the fresh shavings and rearranged everything to his satisfaction.

  “Let me introduce you to Quixote. He’s in a stall on
the other side of the tack room. It’s just a precaution since he’s a stallion. I have no other horses here right now, so I think he will enjoy the company. He has adopted Ninja, the black barn cat, as his companion.” Gabby and Miguel walked up the aisle to the stall at the end. Before they reached it, the head of a beautiful, gray horse popped over the door. “This is my boy, Don Quixote de la Mancha. He’s a ten-year old, sixteen-hand, pure-bred Carthusian. He was a gift from my uncle Juan for my birthday a couple of years ago. Juan had the opportunity to buy him at an auction in Sevilla and jumped on it. He had him shipped here by FedEx. These horses are greatly prized for breeding as the purest strain of Andalusian horses.”

  “Oh, Miguel. He’s beautiful.” She ran her hand down over the gray marbled coat of his neck and withers. He was elegant and powerfully built with strong hindquarters and a thick, dark mane and tail. She could only imagine the picture the two most gorgeous males she had ever seen would make as a team, especially in a reining routine. She knew that the sport of reining was often called “Cowboy Dressage.” Miguel slipped a carrot into her hand, and she offered it to the majestic animal. He condescended to accept her offering before he reached over the door and rubbed his chin on her shoulder.

  “Quixote, this is my woman, not yours. I’ve bred him several times since he’s been here. I have to carefully vet any mares he covers because of the standards of the Purebred Spanish Horse Breeders of Spain regulations. We can’t allow his bloodline to be compromised. As a result, he doesn’t get lucky as often as he would like.”

  Gabby blushed. Both of these beautiful male specimens should get lucky regularly. From the hot look in Miguel’s eyes when he gazed at her, she was pretty sure she would be getting lucky herself—and pretty damn quick.