Gabe's Revenge

by Doris O'Connor

  Which made him almost untouchable. Almost… Gabe scowled into the distance. This thing with Lissa would force things to a head, because if her father was plotting something with Ollivanti, protecting Gabe’s territory lines wouldn’t be enough anymore. While he would love to take that fucker out for good once and for all, the inevitable loss of life of innocent bystanders such a turf war would cause made his guts churn.

  Gabe picked up the phone.

  “Increase security at my place and step up surveillance on Ollivanti and Andrini, will you? … Yes, I know I said dump him, but scum like him will always crawl back out of the gutter. … Wake up my attorney, too. … I want him at my place in the morning. … Yeah, carry on with that. … No, the girl stays with me.”

  He absentmindedly listened to his second in command and froze when he noticed the day.

  “Fuck, forget what I said. I need you to get the girl’s stuff from her place. Yes, all of it. … Also…”

  By the time he listed all of his instructions he’d drunk himself through half the bottle. He also had the beginnings of a plan. She would hate him, for sure, but, better that than the alternative.

  He tapped his earpiece.

  “Bring the car ‘round. I’m going home.”

  Hearing the affirmative, he switched the thing off and slipped it in his pocket. His team could take care of the rest. The car ride over to his place, achieved in minimum time, thanks to the time—even in London traffic was light at three in the morning—he stepped out of the lift and froze.

  The faint scent of her perfume was still in the air. The whole place felt different, and it wasn’t just the washed-up dishes in the sink.

  He smiled grimly as he traced the items. That had to have been Lissandra. Mavis would use the dishwasher, and no one else was here. Her high heels were left by the leather seating arrangement in the living area, and Gabe felt himself harden, as he recalled how those shoes had looked on her slender feet.

  Not a sound could be heard in the apartment, so she had to be sleeping. She would never know…

  Gabe crossed the hall and carefully opened the door to the bedroom next to his.

  She’d left the sidelight on, had fallen asleep where she stood from the looks of it, and his cock gave up any pretense of not being able to work. The speed with which he rose to the occasion left him lightheaded and grasping the doorframe. Not only for support but also to stop himself from marching up to her and taking what she so inadvertently offered.

  She must have had a shower or bath because she was still wrapped up in one of the fluffy towels, and fast asleep on the bed. The knot on the towel had come undone, which made the fabric slip, exposing one of her full breasts. The nipple was pebbled in response to the cool air, and his mouth watered with the need to taste. Would she like it rough or gentle, he mused? And why on earth was a woman this sexy still a virgin?

  Gabe ought to rot in hell for the erotic images that were now bombarding his brain. That girl was young enough to be his daughter. He’d known her mother, for fuck’s sake, had introduced her to the older Andrini, and tenderhearted Valentina Johnson had fallen head over heels in love with Andrini at first sight.

  And here he was, twenty-five years later, lusting after the daughter of that ill-fated union. No wonder Mavis had chewed his ear out once she’d left Lissandra up to her own devices. What the hell was he doing?

  Lissandra stirred in her sleep, and he froze. She didn’t wake up however, just turned, obscuring his view of her rack. Unfortunately, or fortunately as the case might be, that side roll made the towel hitch higher on her ample thighs. When she brought her knees up to her chest, Gabe got an eyeful of her sweet pussy. Covered in fine downy dark hair, it was temptation personified. Groaning, he adjusted his now rock-hard dick away from the zipper of the jeans he’d changed into, after his suit had gotten covered in her father’s blood.

  Thoughts of that asshole was the equivalent of an ice-cold shower. Not that the reprieve lasted long. He couldn’t leave her like that, so he yanked out the duvet, the edges of which were tucked under the mattress, and pulled it over her to cover her up. Ideally, he’d have lifted her to tuck her in properly, but there was only so much restraint he was capable of. Lifting her up, actually feeling the touch of her soft skin, would send him over the edge for sure.

  Why her, and why now, he had no idea, but this woman had gotten under his skin with a speed that left him breathless and his cock only interested in her, it seemed. The interlude with Ange had driven that point home rather forcefully.

  Much to his disgust his hand shook as he brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and he forced himself to step away. He could do this. He could beat this, right?

  Once he’d had her, this strange spell he was under would be broken. Gabe scowled at his reflection when he was in his own bathroom and stripped for a much-needed shower. Ange’s perfume still clung to him, made him gag, and it was suddenly imperative to wash the other woman off of him. Not that they’d done anything. Not that he owed the woman sleeping in his guest bedroom any loyalty, but fuck him…

  Turning the hot water to cold achieved sweet fuck all at getting his erection to subside, so Gabe did the only thing he could do. One hand braced on the tiled wall, he jerked himself off. He came in record time, images of sweet little Lissandra in his mind, her name on his lips as he spurted thick ropes of cum, which disappeared down the drain with the swirling water.

  When the last twitch of his dick had subsided, he turned off the water, and dried himself off. His blasted cock was still at half mast, as his thoughts turned back to Lissandra.

  Fuck him six ways from next Sunday. He wanted her, and he hadn’t this much problem controlling that part of his anatomy since his teenage years. It was going to be a long three weeks until he could rectify this situation.

  ****

  A brass band seemed to have taken up residence in Lissandra’s head, as she struggled to a state of consciousness. God, she hated mornings, especially when she woke in a strange place, and … what the hell was going on out there? Struggling to rid herself of the fog for brains she always woke with, the events of the previous night broke through the haze and she froze.

  She was in Gabe’s apartment, and the noise she heard wasn’t a brass band, but heavy footsteps and clanging, as though someone was erecting scaffolding or something.

  Male curses traveled through the shut door and then Gabe’s authoritative voice.

  “Will you keep the noise down? You’ll wake the girl up.”

  Somehow being referred to as the girl stung. Then again, what did she expect from him? She was his to do with as he pleased. There was no need to lower himself to using her name. That’s if he kept her, of course. Hot tears streaked down her face, and she angrily swiped them away, disentangled herself out of the duvet, and padded across to the marble bathroom to freshen up. Having relieved herself, and with her hands and face washed, teeth brushed, and wrapped up in one of the soft fluffy robes she’d found in the walk-in wardrobe she felt marginally ready to face the world out there.

  Everything was ominously quiet now, and she jumped at the soft knock on her door. Before she could bid or deny entry, the door opened, and Mavis’s silver head appeared.

  “Oh, good, you’re awake. I brought you some coffee, and breakfast among other things.”

  She pushed the door all the way open, and Lissandra could have kissed her when the full-flavored scent of strong, freshly brewed coffee hit her nostrils.

  “Here, take this and I’ll bring the rest in.”

  Lissandra closed her eyes, inhaled deeply of the elixir of life, and downed that first cup almost in one go.

  “Figured you’d be just like your mother. Never did work out how she didn’t burn her mouth, inhaling hot coffee like that.” The deep, amused tones could only belong to Gabriel Henshaw, and Lissandra gasped when she saw him standing in the entrance to her bedroom. The mug clattered out of her hand, only saved from shattering into a gazillion pieces by the
luxurious rug that covered the wooden floor.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” She spat the words out at him, while making a grab for her robe to ensure she was covered up.

  “I live here, little girl, and don’t bother covering up on my account. I saw it all last night.”

  “Gabe, really, behave. Lissa is your guest.” Mavis’s admonishment saved her from responding. Not that she could have got her vocal cords to respond to the demands of her brain if her life depended on it, because Gabe chose that moment to step closer. His presence filled the room, and she swallowed hard when he sat down on the opposite side of the bed and reached over her to snare one of the buttered croissants on the tray. He popped the whole thing in his mouth. His Adam’s apple bopped up and down as he swallowed. Gabe licked his lips and smirked at her, when she couldn’t seem to stop staring at his lips.

  “Happy Birthday, Lissa.”

  His voice dropped to a low sexy growl, which settled straight in every one of her erogenous zones, and she was extremely glad she was sitting. Even if she was in far too close proximity to this man. He’d been devastating in his tailored suit last night, but this morning, with his hair still damp from a shower, and sticking up all over the place, he was … well, she didn’t know what he was, other than too close to her. His proximity made breathing difficult. Especially, as every inhale brought his scent into her lungs. It should be illegal for any man to smell so good. The hint of dark, spicy cologne, mixed in with the scent of virile and aroused man, if that long hard ridge she glimpsed in his jeans was any indication.

  Not that that was due to her. It couldn’t be. Lissandra might never have had sex, but she knew enough to know that men woke up like that in the morning, and…

  “What time is it?” She blurted out the question, and one of Gabe’s dark eyebrows rose in response.

  “That’s what you’re leading with?” he asked and shook his head. He swung both of his legs on the bed next to her, scooted up, until he could rest his back against the headboard, and crossed his arms over his chest. That action only served to emphasize the width of his chest and the biceps straining against the sleeves of the t-shirt he wore this morning. Fine, dark hair covered his strong forearms, and Lissandra followed the veins down to his large hands. Strong, and slightly calloused, they were the hands of a man not afraid to use them. The hands of a killer.

  That thought sent a shiver of unease down her spine, and her next words came out as a mere whisper.

  “What have you done to Papa?” she asked.

  “Why do you care?” Gabe uncrossed his arms and nudged her chin up with his index finger, leaving her no choice but to look at him. The heated intensity in his amber gaze made breathing even more difficult, because she didn’t know what to make of it. He was angry, that much was clear, but whether that anger was directed at her or her father she couldn’t determine. Drawers opened and shut while they were in their silent stare down, and Lissa jumped when Mavis spoke.

  “There, I’ve put all your clothes away, my dear.”

  Clothes? What clothes? She tried to turn her head, but Gabe’s hold on her chin tightened.

  “Thank you, Mavis, that’s all for now. Let me know the minute Parkinson gets here, will you?” He didn’t look at Mavis while he spoke, his attention entirely focused on Lissandra.

  “I mean it, behave yourself, Gabe.”

  This time the faintest smile kicked up the corners of his sinful mouth, as he replied.

  “Haven’t you got something to bake, Mavis?”

  “Hah, I do, and fine, I’m going. I’ll be around, my dear, if you need me for anything. And Happy Birthday from me, too.”

  With that the door clicked shut behind her, and Gabe finally released his hold on her chin. She felt curiously bereft without it. Pulling her legs up her to her chest, she hugged them to herself in a vain effort to restore some of her equilibrium.

  Easier said than done with Gabe sprawled out next to her, as though it was his God-given right to lie in her bed. She couldn’t help herself. Her gaze traveled down his muscular legs and snared on his bare feet. Dammit, why couldn’t he be old and puffy and unattractive?

  “How do you know it’s my birthday?” she finally asked when the silence between them grew uncomfortable.

  “I know everything there is to know about you, little girl. Besides, I was there when you were born.” He smirked at her sharp intake of breath.

  “Eat something, birthday girl. Mavis made the croissants fresh this morning, just for you. She’ll be offended if you don’t at least try and eat them. They’re still your favorite, right?” This time he winked, shut her open mouth with his index finger, and then mercifully got off the bed. Not that her reprieve lasted for long, because he only walked around it, picked up her abandoned mug and then refilled it from the pot, added cream and held it out to her.

  Their fingertips touched as she took it off him, and a jolt of awareness shot up her arm.

  “Damn.” That muttered curse, as though he’d felt that, too, meant she had to look at him. Brows drawn together in a frown, he didn’t look angry however, more like he wanted to eat her alive. Her breath caught, and her nipples pebbled against the soft terry of her robe, and, much to her internal horror, her pussy grew wet. This was all so very wrong, but it seemed this man revved up her libido without even trying. Heaven help her if he chose to touch her. His gaze dropped, lingering on her throat, where her heart was trying to beat out an uneven staccato rhythm and lower still into the V of her robe. If it hadn’t given away how much his silent perusal of her affected her, she’d have been tempted to pull the lapels together. Instead she held onto the coffee cup as though her life depended on it.

  Gabe shook his head, scrubbed a hand over his beard-roughened jaw, and walked over to the glass wall. He yanked the blinds open, and Lissandra gasped anew, this time at the view. The Thames was winding its way underneath them, and they seemed very high up. The wall slid open at the flick of a switch to the side, and Gabe stepped out on what looked like a terrace. Belatedly, Lissandra recalled Mavis telling her about it. The weather was kind for once, and a warm breeze blew in. When it became clear that Gabe had no intention of stepping back in her room, Lissandra followed him. Not before she snared the two remaining croissants, however. She bit into one as she stepped onto the terrace, and she couldn’t help her moan of delight, as the warm buttery breakfast delight melted on her tongue. Crumbs fell into her exposed cleavage, making her all too aware of the fact that she was buck naked under the robe. So, why the hell have I followed him out here?

  He turned at that moment, and her heart all but stopped at the way he looked at her. Jesus. For the first time Lissandra truly appreciated what Chantelle meant when she talked about eye fucking. The way Gabe looked at her, she might as well not be wearing anything.

  He didn’t say anything, and, having washed that bite down with a swig of coffee, she cleared her throat repeatedly before she managed to speak.

  “You’re right, these are delicious.”

  Gabe nodded, and his slow, dangerous smile nudged her core temperature up a few more degrees. To hide her reaction, she turned and walked up to the glass balustrade. It reached mid chest on her, and while it was still a little scary being this high up, it also gave her the courage to peer down. She took a step back, straight into the hard wall of muscle that made up Gabe’s tall frame.

  She jumped, and his large hand came to rest on her shoulders.

  “Relax, you’re perfectly safe here.” A shiver went up her spine at the feel of his thumbs stroking along her neck. It was the lightest of caresses, yet it sent her hormones into overdrive. With her hands full she had no choice but to let him. Oh, it would be so easy to simply give in, to lean back into his body and to accept the protection he offered. Instead she stiffened her spine and held herself away from him as much as she could.

  “Am I? Safe, I mean?” she asked, and the far too arousing circles he drew on the sensitive skin under her ears, stopped. H
is fingers tightened on her shoulders, and then he released her with a sigh. Stepping around her, he took the mug and remaining croissant out her hands and placed both items on the little table and chairs she belatedly noticed.

  He held out his hand for her to take.

  “Come, I want to show you something,” he said.

  Lissandra shook her head and wrapped her arms around herself.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you, especially not like this.” She looked down on herself. Gabe’s laughter caught her by surprise.

  “By all means, get dressed, if it makes you feel better. My boys collected all your stuff from that hovel you’ve been living in.”

  Hearing him refer to her family home in such derogatory terms made her see red, and she gritted her teeth.

  “How dare you? That’s my home, and you—”

  A low, menacing and animalistic growl rumbled from his big chest, and Lissandra froze. Oh, no, she’d pissed him off for sure, and yesterday’s threat to put her over his knee slammed into the forefront of her mind. What in the hell was wrong with her to think about that now?

  “This is now your home, and you’d do well to remember that, little girl.” She couldn’t help her sharp inhale, and he nodded once. “You asked me earlier what I’d done to the asshole who fathered you.” He paused, and she swallowed hard at the grim expression on his face. Right now, seeing the quiet fury which locked his jaw, made his nostrils flare with the sheer force of his breathing, she believed every rumor she’d ever heard about this man.

  “Did you kill him?” His amber gaze flashed in something akin to fury, intensified as he cocked his head to one side and studied her.