Her Alpha Avengers [The Hot Millionaires #7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Zara Chase

  Gabe had helped himself, trying to capture the sadness that lurked in Sabine’s expression, wondering if she knew that her sensuous nature was also evident to someone who made a living from studying faces. Wondering if she even knew she had a sensuous nature. The question was, would she be willing to let the three of them bring it out and fully explore its depths? Gabe suspected that she hadn’t had much time for sex since embarking upon her obsession to track Pearson down. He also knew, just from glancing at his buddies, that they were as intrigued by her as he was. She was an unusual, challenging enigma, and when it came to challenges, all three of them were fiercely competitive. They never backed away from one and had yet to come out on the losing side.

  “Here.”

  Gabe tore off his sketch and handed it to her. She glanced at it and gasped.

  “It’s me.”

  “Glad we got that one sorted,” Otto said. “Problem living with these artistic types is that they get all moody if their supposed talent goes unappreciated.”

  She frowned. “Do I really look so pensive?”

  “It’s how I see you.” Gabe offered her an engaging grin. “Are you disappointed?”

  “No, I think you’ve flattered me, that’s all.” She continued to study the drawing. “You’re very good.”

  “Why, thank you, ma’am.”

  “No, really, you are. You ought to do something like this for a living.”

  Fin and Otto burst out laughing. “What?” Her glance flitted between them. “What did I say?”

  No one enlightened her, and so she tutted and returned her attention to the drawing. Her gaze obviously rested on his signature, Gabriel, scrawled across the bottom of the page, which is when realization dawned.

  “You,” she said, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You’re Gabriel?”

  “I did tell you that when we met.”

  “Yes, but you didn’t mention that you’re the guy taking the New York art scene by storm.” She glowered at him. “Why did you let me make a fool of myself just then?”

  “Don’t get too mad,” Otto said. “You could probably flog that squiggle for a fortune. God knows why.”

  “I wouldn’t think of selling it.” She paused. “Unless I have to.”

  “Sorry, babe, it’s a habit.” Gabe grinned at her. “I like to be myself when I’m here, not the famous artist that everyone wants a piece of.”

  “You don’t live here, then?”

  “Yeah, I do, actually. I’m here as much as I can be, but I do have to get my ass in gear occasionally and put myself about a bit.”

  “He pretends not to enjoy fame,” Otto said, “but he’d be impossible to live with if he went out of style.”

  Gabe shot him the finger.

  “The three of us live in this house,” Fin said. “I’m a stockbroker, Otto does all sorts of clever stuff with computer systems, and Gabe…well, you know what he does.” Fin winked at her. “Ask him nicely, and he’ll show you his studio.”

  She rolled his eyes. “He’ll be inviting me to view his etchings next.”

  “Damn!” Gabe thumped his thigh. “Now I’ll have to think of something more original.”

  “Anything would be more original than that.”

  “I’m an artist, darling, not a wordsmith.”

  “How come you got into investigations?” she asked, wisely not continuing to banter with Gabe.

  “By accident,” Fin said. “We’ve all got our areas of expertise, and we do very well in our chosen fields.”

  “I can see that.” She glanced up at the two galleried landings above her head, probably seeing it with her interior designer’s hat on and mentally revamping it. “Let me guess. You need something else to stimulate your—” Otto turned a choke of laughter into a cough. “Okay, wrong phraseology. You need to explore your potential, find your inner selves, or whatever it is your American shrinks charge a small fortune to put a label on.”

  “We’re your quintessential good Samaritans, for want of a better description,” Gabe said. “We dislike injustice and try to put it right. We certainly don’t do it for the money ’cause we don’t always get paid.”

  “I thought Fin said something about people who could pay—”

  “Yeah, he said that,” Otto agreed, “but when it comes right down to it, we’re all too soft for our own good. I guess we just enjoy the challenge of pitting our wits against the bad guys. We can do things that the police can’t because we’re not governed by any rules except our own.”

  “So, how do you feel about staying here with us until we’ve got this business with Pearson sorted?” Fin asked.

  “You want me to live here?” She paused. “With the three of you?”

  “Why not?” Fin shrugged. “We’re all trying to achieve the same thing, so it makes sense to pool our resources. You can’t go back to your condo, and we have plenty of space.”

  “You don’t need to share with any of us,” Otto added, waggling his brows. “Unless you want to.”

  “Well, I guess I could make myself comfortable,” she said, ignoring Otto’s lascivious expression. “Oh, but what about Mulligan?”

  “Looks like he’s already made himself comfortable,” Fin said, nudging the big mutt with his foot.

  “Where do we start trying to find Pearson, then?”

  Sabine leaned toward Fin and Gabe as she posed the question. She was wearing shorts and a thin vest. Bending forward like that gave them a decent view of her breasts, encased in a pink lacy bra. Gabe thoroughly approved of the view, as did his prick, which jerked in anticipation. Down, boy! He didn’t think she’d offered them this view deliberately. In fact, she wasn’t making any particular effort to impress them, which was unique in Gabe’s experience. Wherever he went, on his own or in company with the guys, women came on to him—to them all—in droves. That was an immediate turn-off. Gabe liked to do the chasing, not be forced to run away.

  “You might wanna let Otto share whatever information you have on your computer,” Fin said, nodding toward her satchel. “Before you do that, Otto can check up on Spencer or whatever his name was, see where that leads.” Fin delved into his pocket and threw a wallet at Otto. “I took this off him.”

  “That’s what you were doing,” Sabine said. “Going through his pockets to see if you could find an identity?” Fin nodded. “He didn’t know he was going to die, he just thought he was going to meet me, so he had no reason not to carry with him what all men carry.”

  “Never go anywhere without mine,” Gabe said, grinning.

  “Precisely.” Sabine offered him a sweet smile. “A man can never be parted from his most important possession.”

  “Don’t let that stop you from trying to part me from mine,” Otto said, winking at her.

  * * * *

  Sabine looked away, unsure what she’d gotten herself into with these three when Otto’s sexy smile made her gut clench with a sudden bout of lust. He was no longer looking at her but flipping through the wallet Fin had just tossed to him.

  “The guy’s name was Harold Arthur Spalding. Driver’s licence gives an address in Bradenton.” He stood up. “Okay, I’m on it.”

  “I’ve got some calls to make.” Fin stood up as well. “Let’s reconvene for brunch in an hour. Give Sabine the guided tour in the meantime, Gabe, and show her to the guest room.”

  “Will do.”

  He stretched out a hand and helped Sabine to her feet. His smile hit her square below the belt, too, making her wonder what she’d just committed herself to. They were being kind, offering to let her stay with them, even though she’d probably be in their way. They’d already dismissed her—well, two of them had—and scuttled off to do whatever it was that they did, which kind of proved her point. And yet, all she could think about was getting naked with one of them—or more. God, but she was a hopeless screwball. The chances of just one of them being attracted to her were remote. All three of them wanting a piece of her—sharing her enjoyment of the life she’d
once briefly dabbled with—was unthinkable.

  All the same, she didn’t seem to be able to stop thinking about it.

  Ever since her mother had been so cruelly treated by Pearson, Sabine had sworn off men for good. Several had tried to change her mind, but she hadn’t even been tempted. She was a woman on a mission and didn’t have the time or inclination for romantic distractions. The only explanation she could come up with for her out-of-character reaction this morning was gratitude. She’d felt so alone since coming to America, getting nowhere with her search. No matter how inconvenient her staying here might be, no matter how much she cramped their style, she instinctively knew that the guys would take good care of her.

  Besides, they were three of the most indecently attractive men she’d ever met. All of them together under the same roof, albeit a very expansive one, were doing things to her head. All that lean, hard muscle, predatory male tendencies, and excess testosterone was to blame. She might be practising abstinence, but she wasn’t blind. Hell, now her pussy was leaking, and her nipples had hardened. This was not an auspicious start.

  They must be gay, she thought, otherwise why would three men in their thirties live together, no woman in sight?

  Yeah, right!

  “This way, ma’am.”

  Gabe’s knowing smile caused Sabine to wonder if he numbered mind reading amongst his obviously considerable talents. She tossed her head and followed him as he showed her round the rooms on the first floor. There was tons of space, but few rooms—the one they were in, offices for Otto and Fin, the kitchen and family room, and a half bath. The covered terrace overlooking the pool and then the Intracoastal Waterway held Sabine’s attention longer than the interior. Mulligan stirred himself, had a good shake, and followed them out there.

  “A great way to pass the time, I would imagine, sitting out here and doing absolutely nothing.” She smiled at Gabe. “I should think it’s a constant source of inspiration. All those changing colours in the water must give you a ton of ideas.”

  “You’re not wrong,” he said, but the deep intensity of his gaze was settled on her profile rather than the view. “Come on, there’s a lot more.”

  On the next level were their bedrooms and the guest room. He opened the door and ushered her in ahead of him. Mulligan followed, his claws clacking against the wooden floor. He took a look round, had another shake, and settled down on a rug, appearing to like his new accommodation. They both laughed.

  “He’s rather spoiled, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s okay. I like a guy who goes for what he wants.”

  She turned to face him. “Are you flirting with me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Sabine laughed. “Glad we got that one sorted out.” Her gaze fell upon her bags from the condo standing against the wall. “You obviously assumed I’d be staying.”

  Gabe shrugged. “Had to put them somewhere. We don’t do untidy.”

  “I noticed.” She wrinkled her brow. “That’s a bit unusual for you artistic types, isn’t it? Worrying about something as insignificant as tidiness, I mean.”

  “Oh, I’m the biggest slob on the planet, as you’ll see from my studio. It’s the others who like order and method in their lives. Fin, especially, is a bit anal retentive about that sort of thing.”

  “Well, I guess when you live with other people you have to make compromises.”

  “Exactly.”

  She swirled round, taking in the large, bright room with its Bermuda blinds, huge bed, walk-in closet, and spacious en suite. There was also a sitting area with a television and comfortable seating. She found it hard to believe that it would be all hers for a while.

  “This would fit twice over in the condo I’ve been living in.”

  “Then enjoy.”

  “Thanks.” She sat on the edge of the bed and bounced up and down, testing the springs. “I think I will.”

  * * * *

  Gabe looked away, surprised at the extent of his desire for her. Women were ten a penny, all keen to have a piece of Gabe, and it was a long time since one had gotten to him in that way that Sabine seemed to have done without even trying. He, Otto, and Fin tended to share a woman if they all liked her, but Sabine wasn’t just any woman. She was a client…well, sort of, and she was also on a mission. Would she want to be distracted? He needed to talk to the others about her, decide if she was off-limits or if they’d make a joint approach.

  “Come on, now you get to see the best bit.”

  They went up the final staircase, and he opened the door to his studio with a flourish. She stepped into the room that covered the entire top floor, light pouring in through windows on every elevation, and gasped.

  “It’s amazing,” she said reverently, laughing at the organized chaos. “I see what you mean about the mess, though.”

  “Mess?” Gabe affected surprise. “What mess?”

  She walked up to canvases piled on top of one another against the wall. “May I?”

  “Be my guest.”

  She flipped through them, taking her time as she examined each one. “You really are very talented.”

  He shrugged. Praise always embarrassed him. He did what came naturally to him and didn’t think there was anything remarkable about it. “I have my moments.”

  “Where did you learn to paint?”

  “I guess I’ve always had an aptitude for it. I grew up in Kansas, of all places.”

  “That’s in the Midwest, right?” He nodded. “All I know about it is wheat.”

  “There’s not much more to know. There was no inspiring scenery, so I had to rely on books to kick-start my imagination.” He shuddered. “My folks were farmers, and I was expected to follow in their footsteps.”

  “That would have been such a waste.”

  “Yeah, well, hard work robbed them of emotion, and my father thought trying to paint for a living would be a massive waste of time. So, the moment I graduated high school I left and never went back.”

  “How did you get ‘discovered’?” She sat cross-legged on the floor, fondling the dog’s ears, all her attention focused on Mulligan. Gabe hardened just by having those remarkable eyes of hers looking at him so intently because she was obviously interested in what he had to say. He hardly ever spoke about his Kansas days. He didn’t want people going out there, digging around, upsetting the order of things. His brothers did quite enough of that without any help from him.

  He didn’t hesitate to talk about it to Sabine.

  “I got in with a crowd of arty types in Greenwich Village, living in a place worse than your condo and doing whatever needed to be done to earn enough to eat. I wasn’t too fussy what it was so long as it left me with enough time to paint. All sorts of gallery owners prowled round us, looking for new names.” He shrugged. “I guess I got lucky—”

  “And I’d say your talent did the talking for you.”

  “You know how to stoke a guy’s ego,” he said, flopping down next to her and also fondling the dog. He was a nice enough mutt but wasn’t really what Gabe wanted to stroke. Those pert tits of hers would have made a much better target. Hell, I need to get laid!

  “How did you finish up here with Fin and Otto?”

  “Fin bought a couple of my pictures, back in the early days before I became known. When I started to make money, I remembered he was a stockbroker and asked him for advice. We hit it off, and the rest, as they say, is history.”

  She seemed satisfied with that and didn’t ask how Otto fit into the equation. “This must be an amazing place to work,” she said instead.

  “Which is why I nabbed the whole of this floor.” He chuckled. “Made the guys put the gym in the basement and they agreed, rather than upset my artistic temperament.”

  “You have your own gym?” She rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “We like to stay in shape.”

  She cast him an amused glance. “Is this where I’m supposed to say that I noticed? If so, don’t hold your br
eath. I hate being predictable.”

  “Will you pose for me?” he asked impulsively. Whoa, where did that come from?

  “Me?” She seemed genuinely surprised by the request. “I’m not beautiful.”

  “Beauty’s in the eye of the artist, babe. Besides, if you were ‘perfect,’” he said, making quotation marks round the word perfect with his fingers, “then you wouldn’t interest me.”

  “Don’t models have to pose nude?”

  Gabe chuckled. “Only if they want to.” He ran a hand down her arm. “Would you be comfortable, posing for me naked?”

  “Er, I’m not sure. I thought you were joking.”

  “I never joke about my art.”

  “I’d feel embarrassed with you seeing all my bits and pieces.”

  “Being an artist is a bit like being a doctor. A doctor doesn’t see a naked body. He sees a fault in something he specialises in.”

  Her eyes flashed with amusement. “Ah, so I’m defective now, am I?”

  “More of a challenge.” An idea occurred to him. “But if you’re worried about baring all, why don’t you let me paint you?”

  “But that’s what—”

  “Your body, I mean. I’ll paint your skin and then transfer that image onto canvas.” He warmed to the idea. “I think it could work.”

  “What, you’d use my body as the original canvas?”

  He nodded. “It’ll work like a dream. I’ve never done anything like that before.”

  “Poking a brush all over my tits.”

  “Hmm. Would you trust me?” Please say yes.

  “Let me think about it.”

  “Sure.” He helped her to her feet and led the way back downstairs. “Why not grab a shower, and we’ll meet in the kitchen in a bit for brunch.”

  “Okay, see you soon. Oh, and Gabe, thanks for the tour, and for the drawing.” She waved the sketch he’d done of her in his direction. “It’s quite something.”