by Lisa Eugene
“Are you hungry?” he asked her.
Maggie was too overwhelmed to adequately assess her appetite. But the mention of food awoke her raging stomach with a growl. She realized that apart from a few Doritos, she hadn’t eaten since earlier that day. She needed something to take her mind off this extraordinary situation. She didn’t want to appear unsophisticated or provincial, but it wasn’t every day that a nurse from Brooklyn stepped into a gorgeous stately mansion.
She swallowed, trying to settle her stomach. She was about to accept his offer for food when an audible gasp broke the quiet of the room. Maggie turned her head to see an older blonde woman standing in the arched doorway, her fingers clutched to her chest. The woman was beautiful, with blonde hair pulled back in a loose chignon and startling blue eyes. Her lips were slightly parted in shock and disbelief. She was impeccably dressed in a pale pink skirt suit with a row of perfect pearls around her neck.
Maggie couldn’t help but peer down at her own wrinkled shorts, tee shirt, and scuffed sneakers. To make matters worse, Gabe had broken the clasp of her bra by ‘accident’ when he was helping her put it back on in the bathroom. Her girls were so happy to be unleashed they were constantly doing a jig under her ill-fitting tee. She also knew she was sporting a few love bites on her neck and was sure her blonde hair was an unruly mop of waves. Great!
“Oh dear God, Gabriel! Is it truly you?” The woman’s voice came as a rushed whisper as she approached Gabe and threw her arms around him.
“It’s me, Mother.”
“When Thomas called to say you were coming home, I couldn’t believe it!”
“I’m here.”
Maggie turned away from them when she heard Gabe’s voice crack with emotion. She suddenly felt awkward and intrusive at this private reunion. She gritted her teeth and started to quietly back out of the room, wondering if Victoria needed any help with her luggage.
She’d made it to the doorway when Gabe’s deep voice halted her progression.
“Maggie! Please, I’d like you to meet my mother, Kate.”
Her heart was racing so fast and loud she was sure the other occupants in the room could hear it hammer against her ribs. Unconsciously she smoothed down the front of her shorts as she stepped back into the room and walked unsteadily towards Gabe’s mother.
She gulped nervously. I’m usually not this unkempt, really, She wanted to say. In fact, I’m a bit of a neat freak. These clothes aren’t even mine. They belong to some waitress named Kim who I met in a diner before I tried to escape from your son by climbing through a window. But he smacked my ass and I had to go with him. Usually I’m quite civilized, really!
Maggie bit hard on her lip, afraid her erratic thoughts would escape and fly from her tongue. No doubt she’d only ramble and present herself in a less flattering light, as if that were possible. She tried to don a confident smile as the older woman took her hand and thoroughly assessed her with a cool blue gaze. Maggie could tell from her expression that she’d come to some conclusion, but Maggie had no idea what that conclusion was. Hussy! She took a mental bat and beat away the thought. Kate inclined her head regally and offered a brittle smile. Her face was stoic as she said polite words of greeting. Maggie’s stomach unfortunately issued a loud bemoaning reply, and mortified, Maggie looked away. Kate politely turned her attention to the guest coming through the front door.
Maggie groaned inwardly when Gabe pulled her into his arms and gave her a wide grin.
“Mother, I think you’d better wake the cook. We’re both starving.” He planted a kiss on Maggie’s cheek and winked at her.
Her heart warmed that he’d tried to lighten the profoundly embarrassing moment. She was sure there were splotches of red staining her cheeks. His mood seemed less edgy now and she was at least thankful for that. He’d told her in the car that it had been a few years since he’d last been home. Had he been worried about the reunion with his mother? He seemed almost relieved. She regarded Kate, who was now staring at Victoria and noticed a sudden tension in the woman’s features. Her stoic countenance was suddenly strained and her cool gaze seemed to grow restive and anxious.
Kate answered Gabe while her eyes were still fixed towards the door. “I’ll have something prepared.”
As if on cue, a butler liveried in formal black and white appeared. He had another man by his side who expeditiously followed his direction. In less than half hour’s time, they were sitting at another ridiculously long table enjoying a meal she’d only get in a fine restaurant.
Soon after the meal, Gabe tucked her into a bed in an enormous room, mumbling something about needing to speak privately with his brother. They’d left Victoria in a room a few doors down. Maggie searched Gabe’s face as he hovered above her. He looked wide awake, his handsome face darkened with the shadow of a beard breaking through his skin. His features seemed robotically calm but she could see a vein bulge at his temple and knew his underlying stress was immense. It was almost three in the morning and fatigue was finally beckoning to her. She eagerly met his lips in a long tender kiss good night, but as he walked from the room she realized that that unsettled feeling in her stomach never quite vanished.
Gabe turned from the window in the study and saw the shocked expression on his brother’s face.
“You mean Cane Howard, as in the Cane Howard, the billionaire?”
Gabe nodded silently and watched Thomas’ jaw drop. Thomas adjusted the glasses on his nose and shook his head gravely.
“Couldn’t you find someone less powerful to piss off?”
“I never did do anything small, Thomas.” He meant it almost as a joke, but their eyes met and held across the room. Gabe was the first to look away. He sighed heavily and leaned on the back of a sturdy wingchair.
He’d just finished relaying a diluted version of the past few weeks to Thomas. He’d told him about the information he had on Cane and that he needed to get in touch with the director of the CIA, Michael Miller. When his father had known Director Miller, he’d been a high ranking CIA operative. He’d been recently promoted to director by the president. Gabe had met the man a few times in the past, and in his opinion, it was an appointment well deserved. He watched the expression slowly change on Thomas’ face. His usually cavalier swagger was morphing into the testy anger that Gabe had had the misfortune of witnessing many times in his life. Thomas shot to his feet and faced him squarely.
Gabe looked at his watch. It was almost four am. He wasn’t in the mood for a tantrum. He wanted to be in bed surrounded by lush curves, and he wanted to be out of this room that held so many memories of his father.
“I can’t believe it’s been almost two years, Gabe! Two years since you’ve come home. Now you walk in here and expect everyone to…to just drop everything and kowtow to your wishes! Even the last time you were home, you were only here for what…an hour at the most? What business were you in with Cane Howard anyway? Why were you working for him?”
“I don’t need to explain myself to you.”
Thomas issued a mocking chuckle and walked over to a window, staring out into the darkness. The fading moonlight lit his hair silver.
“No, Gabe. You never need to explain yourself to anyone,” he said softly.
Gabe sighed. He refused to be baited. This was an old argument. “Are you able to get in touch with Director Miller or not?”
Thomas turned from the wall of windows, his thin frame silhouetted. He waved an aggravated hand in the air. “I believe so. Why don’t you do it? You know him better than I.”
Gabe nodded. “I know, but I want this handled discretely. I don’t want anyone knowing that it’s me who requires an audience. Cane Howard has many connections. His influence is far reaching.”
Thomas frowned. “I hear he owns half the state.”
“He does. We have to be careful who we speak to.”
Thomas nodded thoughtfully. “If what you’re telling me is true then the man has to be stopped. It’s unconscionable what he plans on
doing.”
“I agree.” Gabe nodded.
“Although, why would he sell the data? It’s not like he needs the money.”
Gabe shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows what motivates a man like Cane Howard. Money probably means nothing for him. It’s about power. Doing something no one else would dare.”
Thomas pushed his glasses up on his nose and frowned. “I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
Gabe smiled faintly. Growing up, he and Thomas rarely got along. They were just two very different people. It was nice to know he had the support of his brother. Gabe’s gaze traveled up the wall to the oil portrait of his father above the fireplace. In the dim light he saw a face that was remarkably like his own, only older, wiser. Gabe forced down the emotions that instantly swamped him and looked away.
Jack Masters would be proud of Thomas too. It was good to see that Thomas was maturing and handling the family business. Gabe had followed the progress of Masters’ communications from behind the scenes. There’d only been a few times over the years when he’d had to step in, unbeknownst to his family, to help broker a deal or influence the stock price by calling in some favors. Despite their differences, he respected his brother. He wished so many things were different.
“I’m sorry for lashing out at you. I know things haven’t been easy for you since—” Thomas’ voice floated to his ears in the quiet room, dwindling then gaining momentum. “It’s just been hard. We’ve needed you around here.”
“Hard?”
Thomas hesitated. “Yes, Mother. She’s been acting strange for the past few months. Drinking.”
Gabe’s forehead creased. “That’s not like her.”
Thomas blew out a shallow breath. “I know, that’s why I’m concerned. I tried to get in touch with you at the P.O Box, but you never responded.”
Gabe pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, mulling over his brother’s unexpected revelations.
“I also suspect she’s seeing someone.”
The words blindsided him, punched him in the gut.
“Who?” he asked sharply.
Thomas slouched his shoulders, his blue eyes apologetic. “I don’t know. Some wealthy business man. She’s been very secretive.”
Gabe ran his palms over his face. He was surprised at this news. His mother had been so devoted to his father that he would never have thought she’d move on. But then, it’d been almost eight years.
“Mother is a grown woman,” he forced himself to say.
Thomas stood silent for a while. “We should keep an eye on her. See what she’s about.”
Gabe shrugged noncommittally. “Whatever you wish.”
“What’s with the girl?” Thomas inquired.
Gabe narrowed his eyes. “Her name’s Maggie.”
The other man’s face regained its usually nonchalance. He shot Gabe a lazy smile. “She seems…nice. Different. Don’t know if Mother will approve.”
Gabe felt his teeth grind together. “She doesn’t have to.”
“Is this serious?”
He sent his brother a warning glance. “Let’s just say she’s important to me.”
“I see.”
“I assume we’re on the same page, Thomas,” he said pointedly, wanting to change the subject.
“Absolutely.” Thomas nodded curtly. “I’ll get started on Miller tomorrow.”
Gabe headed towards the door, eager to quit the stifling room.
“Gabe?”
He stopped, his back to his brother.
“I’m glad you’re back. I—I’ve missed you.”
“Thanks,” he said gruffly then modulated his tone. “Thanks, Tom.”
Gabe slipped beneath the cool sheets and wrapped himself around the warm supple female in his bed. He breathed deep, inhaling her, letting her scent saturate him. She grunted a loud snore and burrowed into his body and he smiled, content. Home. She felt like home. His muscles burned with the tension of keeping himself together in this place. Now he relaxed and tried to let the consuming emotions melt away, but his mind was racing. Coming to this house was always traumatic for him. There were so many memories here. He’d had an ideal childhood, with loving, attentive parents who showered him with everything he needed.
He’d been the one to bring an end to it all. Whenever he saw Mother, he half expected her to lash out at him, to shake an accusing finger, and remind him of the pain and devastation he’d caused. He wouldn’t blame her. He knew he was her biggest disappointment. It was hard to believe what Thomas had told him about his mother. She was never one to indulge in any vice or excess, except perhaps, shopping and haute etiquette. She’d been a devoted wife who doted on her family. Had she finally succumbed to her grief? Was the most horrific act of his life still rippling its aftershocks? He pressed his eyes shut, willing for sleep to claim him. With any luck, Thomas would be able to contact Miller and they could end this thing with Cane soon.
Then what? He’d died a little inside when he’d realized that Maggie had run off. A great gnawing black hole had tunneled into his chest, stirring a rage he hadn’t felt in…in…eight years. The fierce pain and consuming anguish had been unbearable. He knew he cared for her, but hadn’t realized just how much until that moment. He loved her. God help him, but he loved her. Deeply. Madly. He’d made her promise to never leave him, but he was being selfish. She didn’t deserve to have someone so broken, so haunted, so corrupted by the past. He knew she cared for him too, but could she ever love him? What if he somehow disappointed her, hurt her? Would she one day shake an accusing finger at him and call him a monster?
He’d tried to stay distant, tried to keep her out of his world, for her sake, but circumstances had not allowed that. Hell, his overwhelming need for her had not allowed that. Still musing, he succumbed to a yawn, listening to her loud snores vibrate off his chest. He smiled, pulling Maggie in closer, and thought about Thomas’ words. Different. This full-figured fastidious nurse from Brooklyn with a courageous spirit, impassioned heart, and unwavering sense of right and wrong. This woman whose stomach grumbled nosily and who snored like a freight train. She was definitely different.
Oh, how he loved her.
Gabe was running. Running faster and faster on a race track, zipping around in an eternal circle. His legs were churning, feet slapping hard against the asphalt. His arms were pumping maniacally, trying to propel him forward. Sweat dripped off his burning face, almost rendering him blind. A cramp stabbed painfully into his side, but he had to keep running. He had to catch the car that raced ahead, spinning out of control. He was almost there. If only he could go a little faster. His legs were slowing against his will, growing lethargic and impaired. He lost control of them. They became fixed like marble pillars, immobile, while his arms continued their frenzied pumping. The explosion he knew was coming blasted towards him, the impact shattering his legs, scattering the chunks of marble all over the track. He screamed his anguish, screamed until his throat was raw and on fire. Fingers pointed at him, accusing and recriminating. Asking him why he didn’t just run—
Maggie heard a ragged cry against her ear and felt the bed jerk. She shook sleep away and turned just in time to see Gabe bolt straight upright in bed. His breaths were coming in short rapid bursts, and his naked skin was sleek and shiny with moisture. She sat up and pushed away the wet hair from his face, searching for his eyes. It was just before dawn, and she could barely make out his face in the murky room.
“Gabe? Gabe?” she called to him gently, realizing he must have been having a nightmare.
She whispered his name again when he didn’t respond. “It’s okay. It’s me, Maggie. I’m here.”
At the sound of her name, his eyes seemed to focus, the swirling mist fading away his stupor. He blinked then and turned his head to her.
“Oh, shit!” he rasped, then forked his fingers through his damp curling hair. He sank back onto his pillow, pulling her down with him.
She chewed her bottom lip, s
nuggling against his body. She was unsure of what to say. Words seemed trivial at the moment, and she knew they’d be consumed by the vortex of swirling emotion. Her palm rested over his heart and caught the reverberations of its frenetic pounding. The air around them was heavy and static, and the dim light filtering in blurred the edges of the room, causing the walls to seem endless.
“I was dreaming about my father.”
His deep scratchy voice scraped over her skin. She held herself stock still, afraid to move a muscle.
“I was dreaming about the day he died. We were racing my car at the track. We would usually race together, but he wanted to take the car out first. I’d been working on it. I had just made repairs to the engine the previous night. It used to be a hobby of mine. We wanted to test it out. He…it spun out of control. Hit the barrier. Exploded.”
“Oh, Gabe. I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her heart bleeding. Her sentiment seemed inadequate. The grief in his voice was palpable.
With a sigh he rolled towards her, his face just a few inches from hers on the pillow.
“Have you figured out who I am, Maggie? Did you see the emblem on the gate?” His words were so quiet she had to strain to hear them.
She frowned. She still had no idea. The emblem had looked familiar, but she hadn’t been able to place it. She shook her head.
“Gabriel Masters. Masters Communications.”
Maggie gasped. Holy shit! Her eyes widened with the knowledge. “You mean the Gabriel Masters?”
He nodded slowly, latching on to her gaze. “The one who stood trial for his father’s murder eight years ago.”
Maggie’s palm came up to rest on his cheek. She couldn’t suppress her shock. She remembered the very public trial. She remembered the newspapers, the television reports, the protests when he’d been exonerated. The media had been in a frenzy over this story. The young, privileged son of a wealthy business mogul on trial for his father’s murder. His father and grandfather had been pioneers. The family owned one of the largest telecommunication companies in North America