Protecting His Interests Page 11

  “We’ll use them now,” he announced as he stood and walked out of my range of vision.

  “You don’t have to—”

  “Oh, I think I do.” He returned his fingers to my ass. This time, they felt warm and wet. The familiar lavender scent of my oil filled the air. “I want to know everything about you, Scarlett. That includes your preferences in the bedroom.”

  “Have you—” I stopped myself before I asked the question. Of course, he was familiar with anal beads. He was a gigolo after all. Somehow, the thought of him doing this with another woman didn’t sit well with me. I pushed the thought from my mind. He wasn’t with another woman right now, he was with me. I was determined to enjoy this moment for as long as it lasted.

  He pushed against me again, his finger sliding much easier this time because of the oil. I groaned as the familiar stretch worked its way through my core. He pumped his finger slowly, letting me get used to the sweet friction inside my body.

  “God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered as I started to move against him. “You like that, don’t you?”

  I groaned in reply. He opened his hand, slapping my ass as I moved against him. The sound vibrated through the air, fueling my need. I widened my stance and moved faster as desire snaked through my muscles, winding them tight with need.

  After a long moment, he pulled his hand away. “I think you’re ready.”

  Before I could protest, he pushed the end of the anal beads up against my opening. I leaned back against his hand as he working first one, then a second into my backside.

  “Yes, that’s it,” he said.

  He moved back and forth, slowly letting the tension build as he pushed the entire string up into my body. When he finished, he rubbed his palms over my ass and bent down to kiss each of my cheeks in turn.

  “How does that feel?” he asked.

  “Wonderful.”

  “Good.” He positioned himself at my opening. “Let’s hope that this feels even better.” Grabbing my hips, he thrust hard and deep filling my core with his large cock. I groaned as he entered, the friction pushing heat through my body like a spreading fire.

  “Gabe.”

  “Did I hurt you?”

  I shook my head and started moving against him. As our bodies came together, the beads pressed deeper into my backside. The delightful stretching sensation shot pleasure up through my core.

  “Oh God.” We moved faster, harder. As Gabe started to groan, I curled my fingers into the mattress, trying to ground myself against the rising need. The world around us faded away until there was just him, just this moment. Faster and faster we moved, thrusting with desperation as I raced toward my goal. Then I cried out his name as my world exploded, bathing me in pleasure and light.

  Never before had anything felt so good, or so right. As Gabe shivered and tumbled over the edge with me, I couldn’t help but feel connected. This was more than sex, more than just a good time. He understood my needs and was more than willing to satisfy them. There weren’t too many people in my life who were as attentive, or as loving.

  As the last bits of pleasure dissolved away, Gabe retreated and removed the beads. Pulling back the covers, he helped me down onto the mattress and crawled in behind me. I let out a long sigh of contentment as he spooned my body and nuzzled my neck.

  “That was amazing,” I said.

  “You’re amazing.” He kissed my temple. “Every time we’re together we learn more and more about you. It’s wonderful.”

  As his breathing became more even, I realized that he was right. The more time we spent together, the more I was sharing of myself with Gabe. In return, I still knew next to nothing about him. There was still so much about his past that remained a mystery. I wondered if he’d ever feel comfortable enough with me to share it, or if I was going to be forever kept in the dark.

  * * *

  The next morning, I opened my eyes, feeling fully rested and content for the first time in weeks. Last night had been amazing. After a quick nap, we had returned to the convention so I could attend my panels and meet with prospective clients. The entire time I worked, I could feel Gabe’s hungry and possessive gaze on my body, making it difficult to think of anything besides what had happened between us back at the hotel. When I finished, Gabe insisted that he’d spend the night, just in case someone tried to attack me again. We had sex twice more and each time I had felt a stronger and deeper connection growing between us. The connection was boosting my confidence, and I had to admit that I hadn’t felt this good in a long time.

  Smiling to myself, I blinked the world into focus, and that was when I noticed Gabe’s clothes on the floor. They were right there, on the ground, just out of reach. I remembered how he had pulled out his cell phone from jeans several times during the night. I knew that if I could somehow take a peek at that cell, I could figure out more about Gabe’s past.

  Because he wasn’t a gigolo, that was for sure. Oh okay, he definitely had the skills to be a gigolo, but he was too smart, too well versed in police procedure and law to be just a common escort. I suppose it was possible that he had some law enforcement training in the military, or learned some things from his friend, but he seemed too calm about everything that had gone on over the past couple of days. It was almost as if he was used to such drama and risk. As far as I knew, escorts weren’t threatened every day of their lives. No, Gabe was more than he seemed, and I couldn’t help but feel that his cell held all of the answers I was searching for.

  As if on cue, Gabe groaned and turned toward the other side of the bed, letting his arm dangle off the side. I closed my eyes and counted to ten, waiting until I heard the soft snoring behind me. Turning my head, I took a minute to appreciate his well-muscled shoulders peeking out from under the bedsheet and his messy dark hair on the pillow. I resisted the temptation to ruffle my fingers through that hair and call him for another round of sex, and instead slid one leg out from under the covers.

  Sunlight streamed in through the cracks in the curtains. Hopefully, it would be enough light to read his cell. After waiting a few brief moments to make sure he was still asleep, I eased off the bed and crouched down to the floor.

  Tossing aside his shirt and my dress, I rummaged through his pants until I found what I was looking for. My heartbeat quickened as I tried to pull the cell from his pocket. Unfortunately, the darn thing had that security measure where it needed his fingerprint. Turning my body, I eased the phone toward his hand, hoping to get a print without waking him.

  “What are you doing?”

  Panic sliced through my system. I dropped the cell and quickly picked up my dress. “I was looking for my underwear.”

  Gabe’s masculine chuckled filled the room, making me blush. “You don’t need any underwear.”

  The mattress creaked, and I glanced up to see him lean over the edge of the bed.

  “No?” I asked.

  He shook his head and patted the mattress. “All you need to do is to come back to bed.”

  I chuckled and dropped the dress. “Nice thought, but we have that preview today.”

  “Preview?”

  “For Bridget’s gathering at the end of the week. I don’t want to miss it.”

  Gabe groaned, rolled over on his back, and put his arm over his eyes. “Oh, the humanity.”

  I hit him with the pillow. “Come on. You need to shower and I need to call Raul to bring around the limo.”

  He lifted his arm and waggled his brows at me. “Are you going to shower with me?”

  I forced myself to smile, knowing that any opportunity to learn more about his true identity had passed. “Maybe, but only if you hurry.”

  He let out a little boy whoop and jumped out of bed with surprising speed. Before I could catch my breath, he scooped me off the floor and carried me into the bathroom.

  “You’re crazy, you know that?” I said as he sat me down on the rug.

  He reached behind me and turned on the shower. “Crazy for you.” He kiss
ed away the last of my questions, and for the next hour, there was nothing but skin, steam, and sex.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Scarlett

  I tugged on Gabe’s hand as we walked up the stairs of the mansion. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”

  “What is this exactly again?”

  I blew my bangs out of my face and stopped on the top stair. “This is a private viewing of the auction they’re holding at the end of the week.”

  “The one that your rival is hosting.”

  I pointed at his chest. “Exactly.” I straightened my dress. “I want to see what all of the fuss is about.”

  “You look great,” he said as he slipped his arm around my waist.

  “You think?”

  He started to respond, but then the front door opened, and the butler gave us a quizzical look. “May I help you?”

  I fished around in my purse until I found the card. “We’re here for the viewing.”

  The butler wrinkled his nose and peered at the card that had been delivered to the front desk that morning. I wondered how many cards Bridget had to give out, and how she had managed to find everyone. All the way over to Rocco Morales’s mansion I wondered what she was up to. Knowing Bridget, it was probably something extravagant and highly profitable.

  The butler, a stout, older man with receding hair and wire-rimmed glasses, shoved the card back into my hands. “This way.”

  He turned away from the door, leaving us on the front step.

  “I guess we better follow him,” Gabe said.

  I nodded and stepped inside the mansion. The atmosphere was quite different from the party a few nights ago. Gone was the festive, laid-back atmosphere and light beach breeze. Everything appeared more formal in the light of day, and there was a tension in the air that made my stomach turn.

  The butler took us into a side room, which turned out to be a study. He closed the door and motioned to the two chairs by the desk.

  “Please,” he said. “Have a seat.”

  I glanced at Gabe, who offered me a nod of encouragement. Together, we took the two seats as the butler walked around and pulled out two file folders from a bottom desk drawer. After adjusting his glasses, he placed the folders on the empty desk in front of us.

  “Here you go.”

  I frowned at the folders, then glanced up at him. “Excuse me?”

  “These are the confidentiality agreements you need to sign before you are allowed downstairs.”

  “Confidentiality agreements?” Gabe asked as he picked up one of the folders and began to leaf through the pages.

  The butler nodded. “It’s standard procedure, of course.”

  “Of course.” I picked up a folder and almost gagged when I saw how many pages there were. After a few moments of skimming the legalese, I glanced up at the butler.

  “Care to just give us the highlights?”

  He nodded. “The contracts just say that you will not photograph, videotape, Instagram, tweet, or post any other information about the event on social media or the Internet in general.”

  “Done,” I said.

  The butler held up his hand. “You will not talk about this event with anyone. You will not mention it in public conversation, you will not write about it in your journal. What happens at this private showing, stays here.”

  “Everything that happens at this showing?” I asked.

  “Yes, as well as any conversation that may take place.” He turned to Gabe. “There are a lot of insiders here, and insider knowledge is traded. We can’t have our secrets leaking out to the general public.”

  “No, of course not,” I said.

  “You don’t happen to run a fight club as well, do you?” Gabe asked.

  The butler adjusted his glasses. “Excuse me?”

  “Nothing.” Gabe held out his hand. “Just give me a pen.”

  The butler opened the top drawer of the desk and handed him a long, thin executive pen.

  “I hope I don’t regret this,” he said as he signed the contract. When he finished, he handed the pen to me.

  “You won’t. I have a good feeling about this.” I signed my forms and handed the folder back to the butler. “I think we’re ready.”

  The butler took the folders and studied the signatures. “Yes, I believe you are.” He snapped the folders shut and tucked them under his arm. “Follow me.”

  We both stood and followed the butler down the second hall, then a third. It felt as if we were going in circles. When we reached the end of the fourth hall, he opened a door that led down into darkness.

  “The showing is down there?” I asked.

  The butler looked down his nose at me, which was quite a feat, considering his short stature. “Of course.” He started to descend.

  Gabe looked at me, then shrugged and waved his hand toward the stair. “We’ve come all this way,” he said. “We might as well see what it’s all about.”

  True. Taking a deep breath to steel my nerves, I took a hesitant step onto the carpeted stair, then lifted my chin and climbed down into the darkness.

  When we reached the bottom, the butler took a candle off a nearby table and lit it.

  “Why so dark?” Gabe asked.

  The butler looked down his nose at him as if he were an idiot. “Ambience.”

  Before either of us could respond, the butler turned and started down the hallway. I shrugged at Gabe and followed. This outing was getting weirder by the minute.

  While the upstairs had a fresh and airy decor, the downstairs seemed to be taken from some medieval castle. It was almost as if I was stepping back in time, leaving the modern world for something a little older and antiquated. The floors and the walls were stone, the lighting dim. There was no furniture to speak of, and the walls were decorated with tapestry too faded to make out much detail. All in all, the hallway seemed rather odd and out of place considering what I knew of the owner and his tastes.

  “Where’s that breeze coming from?” Gabe asked as we walked.

  “The air-conditioning has been turned up to help preserve the artwork,” the butler said over his shoulder.

  It made sense, but I wished someone had told me. I rubbed my arms and wished I had worn something other than my light sundress.

  “Ah, there you are,” Bridget said as we turned the corner and walked into an adjacent room. Several lit sconces hung from the walls, and I shielded my eyes as they adjusted to the difference in lighting.

  “Bridget, how nice to see you.” I blinked several times and then lowered my arm. Bridget was dressed in a fancy, high-collared dress with a lot of ruffles. It looked as if she had stepped out of an old-fashioned royal court, and I had to admit the look suited her.

  “Likewise.” She gave me a air-kiss on each cheek and stepped back to ogle Gabe.

  “Back for more, are you?”

  Gabe smiled and bowed his head slightly. “As always, you fascinate me, Bridget. I couldn’t stay away.”

  Bridget smiled in triumph as she turned to me. “You must let me use him when you’re finished, my dear.” She dragged her gaze to his hips. “He’s simply irresistible.”

  I inched closer to Gabe, placing myself between him and her line of vision. “He’s not something to be bought and sold.”

  “Oh, everyone has a price, my dear.” She lifted her head and winked at Gabe. “It’s only a matter of finding out what it is.”

  Before I could retort, she turned and waved her fingers in the air. “This way.”

  She glided across the large, open room, which was decorated in the same, simple decor as the hall. Everything here looked as if it had been shipped from England, from the heavily cushioned furniture, to the ornate rugs, to the white, stone walls. People milled about, all dressed in period clothes similar to Bridget’s, each one of them looking at different paintings and tapestries that adorned the walls and drinking out of large goblets.

  Gabe leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Looks as if we didn’t get the me
mo.”

  I pressed my lips together and nodded. Bridget had neglected to tell us that we were supposed to arrive in costume, and now we both stood out like amateurs. This was probably her intent, and with each step, my frustration and anger grew.

  “It seems a lot . . . different from the party the other night,” Gabe said as he grabbed a piece of dried fruit from a nearby table as we passed.

  Bridget stopped underneath a large painting of a sailboat and turned to face us. “It’s all part of the ambience,” she said. “Upstairs, we were buying and selling contemporary art. This is quite different.” She raised her brow at me. “I trust you are well versed in seventeenth-century paintings?”

  She knew I wasn’t. My area of expertise was contemporary art. Besides a few classes in college, I knew next to nothing about art created centuries before my time. Her comment made me feel foolish and reminded me of so many jibes she had made while she was my mentor. Whenever it looked as if I was outearning her, she’d cut me down to make herself feel better. It normally worked. Her words had done a number on my self-esteem over the years. Now, after some time and distance, I found that they had less of a bite.

  I suddenly realized why she had invited us to this little shindig. It was to gloat. Bridget loved getting the upper hand, and she couldn’t resist rubbing my face in it.

  Before I could respond, she waved at someone behind my shoulder. “Pardon me, there is something that requires my attention.” She waved her hand around us. “But please, have a look around. Enjoy yourself. There are cards next to each object explaining the artwork’s history, and the opening bid.” She motioned to the small end table next to her. “There are sheets here for you to take notes so you will know which pieces to bid on later this week.”

  “Oh, we’re not going to bid.” I realized the mistake as soon as the words left my mouth. Why did I have to be so honest?

  She raised her brows. “You’re not?”

  “I, uh . . .”

  “I’m the one who will be bidding,” Gabe said.

  “Ah.” Bridget’s face brightened. “We simply must have lunch sometime. I have so much more than is on display.”