"Lunch tomorrow?"
"Maybe. We'll see." I'll have to come up with some other excuse. Law school reading assignments get you only so far.
No sooner does he leave that CeCe comes knocking on my door. "Brian bothering you again. What is it with that man, buzzing about you like a honeybee? You ain’t his honey. Humph.”
I laugh. It’s not a happy sound.
“What’s wrong? Did he say something to upset you?” Her mouth twists.
"No. He asked me to lunch, but I turned him down."
"Good. He’s got no business asking you out. Not when you’re pregnant with another man’s baby. You shouldn't be seen with him anymore, Liz." Since our return from London, she hasn’t been shy about her dislike of Brian, but she’s never come right out and suggested such a thing.
"What do you mean?"
She looks back toward the door, probably to make sure it’s still closed, before leaning closer to me. "There's a nasty rumor going around the office,” she whispers. “Because of the way he hangs around you all the time, everyone thinks Brian’s your baby daddy. And rumor has it they're holding up his partnership because he knocked you up."
Oh, my god. "But he didn't!"
"Well, you know that, and I know that, but nobody else does.” She props her hands on her hips. “So if Brian’s not the problem, what is?”
“Gabriel Storm.”
“Mr. Tall, blond and delicious?” She’s a huge fan of Gabriel’s. Maybe it’s because he kissed her hand, or because he showed her nothing but courtesy during that weekend in the castle. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because she knows I’m in love with him. “What about him?”
“This.” I push the envelope toward her.
She picks it up, reads the letter. “So Gabriel Storm wants to verify he’s the father of your baby.” I’d told her about the conversation we had at the hotel, skipping the part about the marriage proposal. “A necessary step if he wants to claim custody. So why are you upset?”
“He should have called to give me a heads up.”
“Yeah, he should have done that. But—” She cocks her head to the side, scrutinizes me. “I think it’s more than that. You don’t have a problem with him raising your child, do you?”
“No. It’s just . . .”
All I get in response are hunched brows over chocolate brown eyes.
“I’ll have to see Gabriel, talk to him, make mutual decisions about our baby. For the rest of my life.”
“And you don’t want that.”
“No. I don’t.” For years, I’ve known what I wanted. A career in corporate law. I’d fashioned a solution to the pregnancy. By placing him in an open adoption I’d know my child was taken care of while I pursued my life’s goals. Not perfect, by any means, but one which would work for the baby. For me. But now . . .
“You thought you’d put the baby up for adoption and check in on your child’s life once in a while. No complications. No messy involvement.”
“Yes. Does that make me a horrible person?”
“No.” She shakes her head, setting off her tousled curls. “Unfortunately, life’s messy, Liz. It’s rarely that clean cut.”
“I was just hoping.”
“Well, the adoption ship has sailed. What you need to do right now is figure out how to deal with Gabriel Storm, because I can’t see him taking a back seat with your pregnancy. From what I know of him, he’ll want to be involved every step of the way.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” I prop my elbows on the desk, drop my head into my hands.
“You’re a strong woman, Liz. You’ll figure it out.”
I straighten up and rest back in my seat. “You think?”
“Yeah, I do.” She waggles a finger at me. “I know what you need. A girls’ night out. Doesn’t that sound like fun?” She always sounds so chipper. I envy her that outlook on life.
"I can't. Have class." Like I do every Monday through Thursday.
"You can skip one night, can't you?" She’s relentless, like another person I know. No wonder she likes Gabriel so much.
"Maybe." I could get notes from a classmate in my study group. But there is one more problem. "It'll have to be a cheap night out. Budget's stretched thin as it is."
She waves her hand, dismissing my objection. "Don't worry about the money. Dinner's on me."
"Who's going to watch your kids?" With three children, CeCe's always busy with one child-related activity or another.
"I'll get my husband to handle whatever they need to do. About time too." One corner of her mouth scrunches with distaste.
Oh, wow. Is she having problems on the home front? Have I been so troubled by the events in my life, I failed to notice hers? "Anything wrong?"
"He's been working late nights. Weekends too. A lot."
"Well, he is an accountant. Maybe things are busy at the office."
"Yeah. I'm probably worrying about nothing." I can tell by her tone she's not convinced.
She's done so much for me, and right now it looks like she needs a diversion as much as I do. "Okay. Let's do this."
She beams me a wide smile. "All right. We can stop at that Thai place near your house, do a take out, and you can tell MaMa CeCe all about it."
I laugh at the Mama CeCe remark since she's only in her mid thirties. "You're too young to be my mother."
"Older sister then. But right now, I'll go get something healthy from the cafeteria, and we can eat lunch in here. Gotta keep that little one fed." She points to my burgeoning belly.
"You're the best, CeCe."
"Yeah, I know. I won't let it go to my head." She throws over her shoulder before she bounces out of my office.
After I take a deep breath, I call the doctor noted on the attorney letter and make an appointment for the next day. They tell me it’ll take only a few days to confirm Gabriel’s paternity.
The girls’ night out with CeCe recharges my spirits and I get through the next few days in a happier mood. Friday afternoon I have a doctor’s appointment to find out the baby’s sex, so I schedule half a day’s leave. But that morning something happens I didn’t expect, although in retrospect, I really, really should have.
Chapter 7
______________
Elizabeth
SHORTLY BEFORE LUNCH ON FRIDAY, Mr. Carrey asks me to come to his office to discuss a new client. Giddy from the thought of a meaty project, I pick up my notebook and hightail it to his corner digs. Well, hightail’s a bit of an exaggeration. These days all I can manage is a fast walk.
“Liz! Glad you could join us.”
Us? Gosh, the client is here. If I’d known I would have stopped in the ladies’ room to freshen up.
Mr. Carrey waves his hand behind me, toward the side of the room where a couch rests. In my rush, I failed to notice anyone sitting there. “Storm Industries engaged us as their outside counsel. Since you’re familiar with the company from the SouthWind deal, I wanted to bring you on board.”
Storm Industries? I close my eyes and fire off a prayer to whoever might be listening up above. Please let it be anyone but him. I turn around.
“Gabriel Storm.” I breathe. My heart pounds at the sight of him. It’s only been a couple of weeks since we talked. Not long enough of an absence to cause this reaction. How can he affect me this much?
With the aid of his walking stick, Gabriel comes to his feet. As always, polite to a fault. “Ms. Watson, how very nice to see you again.”
The dark gray, three-piece business suit caresses Gabriel’s broad shoulders and hugs those powerful legs. But it’s the magnificent body within that takes my breath away. I’ve loved that body with singular intensity, licked it, tasted it, clutched it tightly in my arms. Hungered for it on countless nights when I couldn’t sleep. My boss might be only a foot away, but given half a chance I’d jump Gabriel right now.
When Mr. Carrey’s phone rings and he takes the call, I thank my lucky stars. Because I can’t stop my body from trembling.
Gabriel’s
aquamarine eyes wrinkle at the ends. “Anything wrong?” His voice’s a study in innocence.
The bastard. He knows exactly what he does to me. I try hard to get my emotions under control. “No.” My hand flies to my belly. “The baby kicked, that’s all.”
“Oh.” That shifts his attention.
“Yes. She’s moving around a lot now.”
“She? So it’s a girl?” Is he disappointed? I can’t tell. And by now he knows the child is his. The doctor called yesterday with the result of the paternity test.
“Maybe. I have an appointment this afternoon to find out.”
“That’s splendid.” he says, all nonchalant politeness, like the sex of our baby is of no interest to him. But his eyes? They tell a different story. His concern is so strong, it’s almost a living, breathing thing between us.
Mr. Carrey interrupts to let us know lunch has been served in the Jefferson conference room. While we head in that direction, I fight to guard my emotions. I’ll need to stay far away from Gabriel during the lunch meeting.
But luck’s not on my side. Terry, Brian, and Mark are all ready in the conference room, seated around the table. By the time, I grab my sandwich, salad and drink, the only seat available is right next to Gabriel. Figures. Fate can be a hairy bitch at times. After we eat, he discusses the projects he’d like to develop. Wind and solar power projects to start. More down the road.
After the Q&A winds down, Mr. Carrey takes over. “Storm Industries will be opening a New York branch to manage its North American projects. The office will be operational by December 1.”
“Who’ll be heading the New York office?” Brian asks.
A pause. “Officially, Miranda Stone will be in charge,” Gabriel says.
What? That’s not what he said two weeks before. Did he lie to me then or is he lying now?
“You’ll need to keep that information confidential until we issue a press release. It shouldn’t be long. Maybe another week or two,” he says.
While everyone’s busy taking notes, he rubs his leg against mine. Not an incidental contact, going by the slow insistence of it. I swallow back the hot need that rises within me. Why does he always do this to me? I can’t be in a room with him, without falling apart.
Mercifully, the presentation concludes and he shakes hands all around, with everyone except me. Why does he do that?
But I don’t have time to ponder that question when I catch the time on my watch. Two o’clock and my appointment is at three. “Sorry, but I have to run. Doctor’s appointment.” l stick out my hand forcing the issue. “So glad to see you again, Mr. Storm.”
“Please call me Gabriel.” The words he used that night in The Brighton penthouse when he insisted I call him by his first name. Afraid it would slip out during a business meeting, I initially declined. Ironic, given our present circumstances.
“Gabriel.” When he clasps my hand between both of his, I realize the colossal mistake I’ve made. I can’t touch him without every one of my senses reeling from the heat of him.
“Where’s your doctor’s appointment?” he asks, not letting go.
“M Street, close to Georgetown.”
“I’m staying at the Four Seasons, not far from there. Unless you’ve already arranged transportation, I can drop you off if yon wish. It’s quite nasty outside.” He points out the window toward Pennsylvania Avenue where a blustery wind and a hard, pounding rain has people scurrying for cover.
Get into his limo with him? No. I’m barely holding it together as it is. “I’ll take a taxi.”
“You might find it difficult to find one in this weather.”
“He’s right, Liz.” Mr. Carrey says. “Might as well take Storm up on his offer.”
I sigh. If I refuse Gabriel again, Mr. Carrey will wonder why. I have no choice but to accept. “Thank you, Gabriel. That’s very gracious of you.”
“My pleasure,” he says with that devastating smile, the one that makes my nipples hard.
“I’ll go get my things and meet you back here.”
On our ride down on the elevator, we don’t exchange a word. Hard to carry on a conversation with other people drifting in and out.
Outside he pops open his umbrella. Somehow he manages to juggle that and his briefcase while leaning on the cane.
“Come near so you don’t get wet.” His umbrella could shelter a Shetland pony. Yeah, it’s that big.
When I lean in, his yummy scent hits me like a semi, and I grow wet in an instant. No surprise since I’ve fantasized about being this close to him every night in my dreams.
As I expected, Samuel’s waiting by the limo.
“Hi, Samuel.”
“Ms. Watson.” He nods.
I slide in ahead of Gabriel.
“Where to, Mr. Storm?” Samuel asks after getting behind the wheel.
“We’re driving Ms. Watson to her physician.”
“23rd and M, please.” My law office is located at 17th and Pennsylvania so my doctor’s office is not that far. If the day had been fair, I would have walked. But with the weather today? Not a chance.
Gabriel pushes a button and the window between the front seat and the back rolls up, isolating us.
“Thank you for—”
He hauls me into his lap and his lips find mine. No preliminaries, no teasing. His tongue sinks into my mouth, to plunder, mark me as his own, like he can’t get enough of me.
I don’t struggle but give him full access. It’s after all what I’ve dreamed of for the last few months. I’m parched for the taste, the smell, the feel of him. I nibble on his mouth, suckle his tongue. He threads his hand through my hair and tugs my head back so he can get to my throat. Hot, insistent. His need’s greater than mine, so I let him do what he will.
I’m wearing a scoop-necked blouse, one which fastens on the front. He loosens the buttons, exposing my lace-bra covered breasts. His mouth feasts on me, licking, nibbling, suckling my exposed flesh. He roams down to my hardened nipples. Right through the bra, he sucks in the tip of my breast. When he bites down, I let out a moan.
“You wet?”
“Yes,” I say in a shaky voice.
“I’m about to make you wetter.”
Yes, please. His hand drifts to my ass and he urges me close to him. And we’re right back where we were so many months before. He’s hard beneath me, just like he was during that ride on his limo a lifetime ago. His hand slides beneath my dress, up my thigh, skirts the edge of my thong and he thumbs my hot button. His finger sinks deep into my pussy. Parched as I am, his lust, my passion are all too much and just like that I fall apart.
“Liz?” He moans my name while I convulse into a mind-blowing climax, the likes of which I haven’t experienced in a long time.
It’s only when I come down from my high, I realize his moans are ones of pain. Oh, god, I’ve been trashing on his legs, one of which suffered a serious injury only a few months ago. How much pain he must be in.
“I’m sorry.” I start to scramble off, but he holds me tight to him.
“No, don’t go. Just”—he gulps—”Bloody hell, I can’t believe I’m saying this. Don’t move. Give me a moment to get my pain under control.” Breathing hard, he leans his forehead against mine.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
He chuckles followed by another moan. Sweat beads his brow. “Fucking leg.”
I cradle his cheek in my hand. “How did the accident happen?”
“I wrapped my car around a tree. I was drunk as the proverbial lord, love.” His breaths saw in and out of him as he fights for mastery over his agony. “Not one of my finest moments, I know.”
“Why on earth would you drink and drive, Gabriel?”
“Can’t remember. The accident stole my memory of the accident.”
Before I can ask more questions, Samuel’s voice drifts in. “We’re here, Mr. Storm.”
I look out the window and spot the medical building where my doctor’
s office is located. I don’t want to leave him, but I must go. Goodbye trembles on my lips.
But I don’t get a chance to say anything. “Let me go with you,” he says. “Be with you when we find out our baby’s sex.”
My heart bleeds for him, for his pain. But the examination is an intimate thing and I always find it so difficult to control my emotions. Today will be especially hard. Would his presence help or hurt? “I don’t know, Storm.”
“Please, Liz. Don’t deny me this joy.”
And suddenly I feel infinitely small for refusing him something every father to be has the right to experience. Even if it tears my heart out. “Okay. But we can’t be seen together.”
“You go in first and I will follow. No one will know, you’ll see.”
Except for the doctor and the medical staff. I’ll make it clear his presence is to be kept confidential. Surely, we’re not the first couple to require such secrecy. “Give me ten minutes. I’ll tell the front desk to show you into my examining room. Don’t give them your name.”
“Thank you. You’ve made me very happy.” He takes my hand, kisses the palm.
And, as always, I melt.
Chapter 8
______________
Gabriel
TEN MINUTES AFTER LIZ LEAVES THE LIMO, I walk into her doctor’s office. The results of the paternity test she took earlier in the week irrevocably prove I'm the father of the child she carries which gives me the legal right to demand custody. But I want more than that. If the child is a boy, he can inherit the title of the Earl of Winterleagh, but only if we marry before the babe is born.
The first time I proposed, Liz turned me down. Her objection stemmed from the deal my mother forced upon her. She would keep mum about my father’s role in my tutor’s death in exchange for Liz breaking up with me. But now with Tilly, the only witness to the crime, retired to a Caribbean island cottage, my mother’s blackmailing scheme no longer holds.
But was that the only reason Liz broke up with me? Her goal is to become a corporate attorney. She’s doing everything right to get there—pursuing a law degree at a top law school, working at a premier law firm in Washington, D.C. Apparently, our liaison was a covert affair. If anyone had found out, she could have lost her job. Did my mother’s scheme give her the excuse she needed to bow out?
Storm Ravaged (Storm Damages 2) (Storm Legacy) Page 5