by Lisa Eugene
The press had reported that the illustrious tycoon, Cane Howard would be making a speaking engagement at the Carlton House Restaurant at three pm to a group of young investors. By four o’clock the restaurant was at its maximum capacity, and the noisy din of the boisterous crowd could be heard from the street. Martinis and bottles of expensive whiskey were served in copious amounts, and the exclusive chef flown in from Paris could be heard in the back yelling murderous threats in French to his underlings.
Gabe stood so quietly that it seemed the movement of air passed through him, ignorant to his presence. He slowed his breathing and waited patiently. The stall door opened in the marble bathroom and the high-hats reflected light off the figure in the bone colored suit. The fall of water hitting the granite sink cause a crescendo of noise to fill the small room. In three strides Gabe had Cane Howard in a strangling choke hold, the barrel of his Glock pressed snuggly against the side of his head.
“I see you’ve finally decided to show up,” Cane said calmly.
“Why the ambush, Cane?” Gabe asked while checking him for weapons. Up close Cane Howard looked younger than his reported age of fifty-eight. He was short, but his body was well honed and stout.
Finding no weapons, he let go of the other man and pushed him away. He watched as Cane’s sharp blue gaze darted towards the door.
“I’m afraid your guards have been…detained,” Gabe announced.
Cane straightened his pale suit and stood erect, his face a serene canvas. He seemed unconcerned about the man pointing the weapon directly at him.
“If you’ll be so kind to hand over the information I’ve purchased, I’ll take my leave.” He smiled politely.
“I want to know why you’re trying to kill me. I’ve satisfied my end of our deal. It makes no sense to kill me before you’ve acquired your product.”
“If I wanted you dead, you and the girl, Maggie, would be dead already.”
The sound of Maggie’s name caused Gabe’s blood to heat to a boil. He struggled to maintain equanimity. He needed answers.
“Why would you disable your company, Cryostar?”
The calm blue eyes stared shrewdly back at him. “It no longer suited me.”
“Why the charade? Why not tell me you own Cryostar to begin with?”
A brow rose fractionally. “I don’t answer to you.”
“What happened to you and the Rollins?” He couldn’t believe he was asking the next question. Damn, woman. “What do you plan on doing with the research?”
“That’s not your concern.” The bland tone took on a hard edge.
“What about Harry?”
Cane sighed dramatically, examining his manicured nails. “What happened to Mr. Grimes was unfortunate. He got in the way.”
“Got in the fucking way?” Gabe shouted. His finger itched to pull the trigger.
“He was unstable. Prone to losing control. We can’t have that now, can we?”
“You bastard!”
Cane Howard steepled his fingers and paused for a long moment. “If you’re through with the pleasantries, I’ll take the drive now.”
Gave issued a brittle laugh and shook his head. He knew he’d get nothing out of Cane Howard. Not in the small time frame he was working with. “What’s the most pleasant way to say this? Hmmm…No fucking way.”
He watched a wrinkle worm across the forehead of Cane’s impassive face. The beady eyes formed angry blue crystals. “You don’t want to disappoint me, Mr. Gabriel Hamilton Masters. I can be a formidable enemy.” There was a lengthy pause that caused Gabe to shift his weight uncomfortably. “Besides, Mr. Masters, you’ve other problems to contend with.”
Gabe was truly taken aback. Besides the fact that he hadn’t heard his given name in years, he didn’t like the verbal maze that Cane Howard was leading him through. He felt like a mouse trying to find the cheese, cheese that he didn’t want to find because he knew it was rancid.
“How do you know who I am?” Gabe asked passionlessly.
“Give me that drive!” Cane exploded in a sudden burst of anger, his face blotched flaming red. “Or you’ll be sorry, Mr. Masters.”
Gabe backed up towards the door. “Go to hell,” he said as he slipped away.
Maggie sat in the corner of the crowded coffee shop following the argument of a customer and the very patient teen behind the counter who’d served her. She was on her third cup of turbo-caffeinated coffee and didn’t know if it was the effects of the potent brew, the fact that Gabe was still gone, or the ridiculous argument playing out before her that made her want to crawl out of her very constrictive skin. The woman’s raised voice caused a few heads to swivel, and Maggie took a long gulp, wishing Gabe had left her in a bar instead.
The woman was insisting that her caramel half decaf special medium roasted house blend with doubly-whipped whipped cream and steamed milk didn’t feel right. The weight of the cup in her hand was off somehow, thus she knew without having to taste it that the concoction was not what she’d requested. She was insisting that a new one be made at once until it felt accurate. Maggie blinked, incredulous. And she was crazy?
She took a deep breath, tapping her toe to shake away the thorny edginess that pricked her skin like needles. Was Gabe hurt, or worse?
“I hope your coffee feels okay?” She startled as the words were whispered against her ear.
Greatly relieved, she jumped from her chair and threw her arms around Gabe’s neck. She didn’t know about her coffee, but his solid body felt divine. His large hands cradled her waist, easing her back to look into her eyes. He smiled broadly, and the warmth in his eyes caused a soft illumination of her skin. She was so happy to see him, and she couldn’t help the feeling that he was happy to see her too.
“You okay?”
She nodded and he dropped a quick kiss to her lips.
“We gotta go.”
She nodded again as he propelled her forward. They wove through tables of curious customers and headed out the back, passing the lady still waiting to feel her coffee.
A cab ride later, they were back in Gabe’s car accelerating out of the city. Although Gabe was pensively taciturn, she didn’t feel his seething anger flowing towards her as it had throughout the past day or so. He drove with his right hand resting casually on her thigh, his long fingers stroking an occasional caress, sending tingles to a location not far from his hand. She didn’t mind the ambient quiet. In fact, Maggie felt she needed the time to allow a calm flow of introspection and analysis to filter through her psyche. She knew she could be very passionate at times. When she felt deeply about something she became single-minded, almost dogmatically righteous in its defense. This especially when she felt it was a matter of great import. Like the Rollins research.
She still didn’t know what had transpired between Cane Howard and Gabe. On some level she was deeply afraid to assuage her nagging curiosity. The significance of his actions would mean a great deal to her personally. If he’d handed over the flash drive, she would take action; she still had to do what she thought was right. She’d have to let the Rollinses know what had happened to their research. Maybe there was something they could do to get it back if it was now in Cane’s possession. She took a deep breath and tracked the passing cars as they zipped by and watched the steady stream of the changing landscape. Anything to take her mind off the inevitable knowing. They’d had so much tumult over the past few days that this impasse of sorts was greatly needed.
Back at the room, Maggie headed straight for the shower. The warm silky water flowed over her skin and was a balm to her anxiety. She changed into a pair of shorts and a tee-shirt, emerging as always, feeling cleaner and mentally revitalized. Gabe was sitting on the bed unpacking his backpack and checking his weapons.
He got to his feet when she entered the room and surprised her with a glass of red wine.
Her brows jerked in surprise as he approached. “Where’d you get this?” she asked, taking the proffered glass.
“
I’m very resourceful. I’m a thief remember?”
She felt her smile falter, his words a disturbing reminder of her underlying concerns. “Really?”
“No, I didn’t steal it.” He playfully skimmed his fist off her chin. “Actually, it was a gift from the motel manager. The maid told him she’d interrupted our…” His face wrinkled pensively. “How had David put it?…Ah, yes! ‘Bumping and grinding,’ the other day, and he wanted to make it up to us.” He grinned.
Maggie blushed floridly.
“That was very nice of him,” she croaked, trying to stifle all the images of bumping and grinding flashing in her head.
“Not really. He just didn’t want his best paying guests upset.”
“I see.” She took a small sip and hollowed her cheeks at the tart taste, the expression causing Gabe to chuckle. It was a deep throaty sound that made her knees wobble from the vibrations.
“I take it it’s not a Chateau Lafite, but it’ll do.”
“No, it’s not, but it was still nice of him.”
Maggie narrowed her eyes. She contemplated the man before her and concluded she knew very little about him. He seemed very worldly, even for an ex-Navy SEAL. She realized she’d had that impression before. The only reason she knew of Chateau Lafite Rothschild was because one of the physicians she worked with had visited the exclusive French vineyard. From what she’d heard, one bottle of their exceptional wine could go for tens of thousands of dollars.
“I don’t think he’ll be happy when we leave,” Gabe was saying.
Maggie’s head snapped up and she abandoned her thoughts. Her blue eyes widened at his words. “Leave? When?” She had trouble identifying the emotion in her heart.
“Soon, I think…tomorrow.”
Gabe tilted his head and studied her. Unable to sustain his dark consuming gaze, she turned her back and took a large gulp of the abrasive liquid. “So, it’s over then.”
“In a sense, yes.”
Maggie pressed her eyes closed, feeling an ache with every squeeze of her heart. He’d done it. He’d given Cane the research! She was surprised at how much the knowledge hurt. This was what she’d been dreading. She’d really believed in him.
“The deal you made with Cane. It’s done.”
“Yes.”
She turned to face him then, needing to confront him, not caring that her eyes were filling with tears. What she saw arrested her. His eyebrows were furrowed above wide eternal brown eyes drugged with feeling. Maggie peeked over his wall and saw the depth of the emotions in his heart, and her own reached out to him. He glided two steps to her and took her wine glass, depositing it on the table.
He then cradled her head in his palms, his gaze desperately scurrying over her face.
“I didn’t do it, Maggie. I didn’t give it to him,” he confessed softly.
“Really?” she whispered, now stretching her neck to see beyond the wall. She need to get a better view.
Why didn’t he do it? Could his decision have had anything to do with her?
He nodded, and she exploded with joy. “Oh, Gabe!” She flung her arms around his neck, throwing her weight against him.
He tried to hold her steady, but caught off guard, stumbled back, laughing and falling on the bed. She landed directly on top of him, the air leaving her body with a soft whoosh. It wasn’t the impact of the fall, but the sudden feel of the hard corded body beneath her that hastened the breath from her lungs.
“Oh, Gabe. I knew you would do the right thing.” She started to roll off him, but he halted the movement, and instead pushed her up so she sat upright and straddled him. His broad hands covered the top of her bare thighs.
A warm blush tingled skin at the intimate position, but the broad smile on her face didn’t waver. Her heart skipped gleefully, ready to burst from her chest.
Gabe winced at her statement. “I don’t know, Maggie. We’re still very much in danger. Probably more so than before.”
She reached down and pushed his thick hair back. A lock had fallen across his forehead and he looked incredibly sexy. She traced an index finder down to the cleft in his chin. “I understand. I trust you, Gabe. I know you’ll keep me safe.”
His long silence caused her to look into his eyes. Again she was caught off guard by his rare unsheltered emotions. He cleared his throat awkwardly, no doubt unused to the scrutiny.
“Then why’d you try to run? Why didn’t you listen to me? Are you that desperate to leave me?” he grated softly.
She frowned, deeply puzzled. “Run? I didn’t run. Not since the diner.”
“Yesterday…at the market. I saw you running to the officer—or who you thought was an officer, anyway. I saw how relieved you were to see him.”
Maggie’s jaw slackened. Oh my God…That’s why he’d been so angry at her. He thought she’d been trying to escape at the market. She shook her head, her full loose waves swinging around her shoulders.
“No, Gabe. I wasn’t trying to escape. The man in the green shirt was chasing me.”
His gaze was steady on her face. “You could have been killed.”
“But I wasn’t. You saved me.”
“It’s my fault you were in danger.” He frowned.
“No, Gabe. You had to find Harry. I ran to the officer thinking he would help me.”
“What were you going to tell him?”
“I was so scared. I just wanted him to detain the man who pursued me, and then I intended to find you.”
“You weren’t trying to leave?”
She cupped his cheek with a palm and brought her face close to his. She was warmed by the neediness in his voice. He most likely didn’t realize it was there.
“No, Gabe.” At his silence, she added, “And I didn’t run today. I stayed at the coffee shop. If I’d wanted to, I could have.”
She felt a strong wind shudder from his lungs. “I know. I was afraid you would.”
He cares! He cares! She smiled brightly and brought the tip of her nose to his, feeling his warm breath feather against her face. She inhaled deeply, his masculine scent making her dizzy. Her hair fell around them in soft curtain of waves.
She sucked in a breath of fortitude and confessed what was in her heart. “I—I don’t want to leave, Gabe. I want to stay with you—see this thing through.”
He sighed and speared his fingers through her hair, lifting her head so he could see her eyes.
“I’m not even sure what the next step is. I don’t want you to get hurt. We’ve been lucky so far.”
“We’ll figure it out together.”
She lowered her head and captured his lips, gasping at the silky feel of his tongue sliding into her mouth, of his lips gliding over hers. Oh, God. She loved the way he kissed. It was as though his mouth was claiming ownership. He was never tentative or reticent, only boldly commanding and deliciously assertive.
The feel of his tight athletic body was intensely arousing. The tips of her breasts puckered stiff, and a palpable ache started drumming in her groin. It didn’t help that he kept gently flexing his hips, grinding his thick shaft into her core. She pushed back against the mountain of flesh and shivered as heat sizzled through her. She rested her palms on his hard chest, feeling his pecks jump beneath her fingers.
Gabe skimmed the edge of her shirt, then drew it up over her head. He tsked and shook his head disapprovingly when he saw her bra. Releasing the front clasp, his admiring gaze lingered on her naked breasts and he groaned appreciatively. Maggie felt her skin pepper with goose bumps when he palmed the heavy globes and squeezed softly, his long fingers sinking into the supple flesh.
“No more bras. Not when we’re alone.” He eased up and shrugged her out of it, then whipped it decisively over his head. Maggie watched, amused as it sailed through the air and clung to a lampshade.
Any response was stolen from her when he wrapped his lips around a jutting peak, his tongue whipping back and forth, sweetly punishing the eager bud. She felt her lungs stall when he moved to
the other and gave it the same thrashing. His ministrations sent a heavy throb pounding through her sex, and she eagerly churned her hips against the hard flesh digging into her.
In one smooth move he pitched his hips, sending her off balance and rolling onto the bed. He followed with her, chuckling at her surprise and clinging to her snugly.
“You’re way too overdressed for my liking. All I ever think about is this luscious body of yours,” he admitted, unsnapping her shorts and jerking them down her legs.
Luscious? Her? Really? Go on… She watched, her bottom lip caught in her teeth as her shorts flew across the room, crashing into a wall and sliding to the floor. His handsome face came into view and the corner of his sexy lips kick up.
“Don’t worry. We can always wash the clothes,” he said, no doubt anticipating her disapproval.
Maggie shook her head, smiling. “I wasn’t worried about them getting dirty.” Liar, liar!
He chuckled and peeled away her underwear. Liquid heat washed through her when he held it to his nose and inhaled deeply, a purr rumbling from his chest.
The grin he shot her was nothing less than diabolical, and she giggled when he twirled the scrap of cotton above his head like a bawdy exotic dancer. He stretched it to send it like a slingshot across the room, and Maggie heard the sound of cloth ripping.
She gasped and he grinned. She chewed her lip, worried because she barely had enough clothes as it was.
He pursed his lips and tilted his head thoughtfully. “Come to think of it, no more panties either.”
“You’re impossible. So nothing under my clothes…” she clarified with an amused nod of her head.