Ann Major – Captured by the Billionaire / Sold Into Marriage: Captured by the Billionaire / Sold Into Marriage (страница 10)
“I want you to make sure Debbie Harris knows she’s being watched.”
Victor was a tall, muscular man with a fierce expression, forbidding personality and black, glittering eyes. It was usually enough for him to simply show up and anyone causing trouble at Fantasies was quickly convinced to change their mind. “Can I ask why?”
“She thinks she’s under suspicion of being the jewel thief wanted on the islands.”
Victor’s eyes narrowed. “You have reason to believe she’s the thief?”
“No.” Gabe got up and turned to face the wide bank of windows behind his desk. “She’s not a thief. But I’m not ready for her to leave the island just yet and I’m willing to do what I have to do to keep her here.”
There was a long moment of silence and Gabe knew that Victor was considering his next words before he spoke. A careful man. “I guess you’ve got your reasons.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“All right, then,” Victor said. “You’re the boss.”
Gabe glanced over his shoulder at the other man. “But you don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“You don’t pay me to think, Gabe,” Victor said, folding massive arms across his chest. “But if you want my opinion, no. It’s not the best idea you’ve ever had.”
Probably not, Gabe thought, turning back to stare out at the spread of the world he’d built stretching in front of him. Would have been smarter to let Debbie go never knowing he was on the island. But this felt right. He’d learned long ago to listen to his instincts, so he was going to go with that. There was a score to be settled between him and Debbie Harris.
Turning around, Gabe faced his old friend and nodded. “You’re probably right, Vic. But we’re gonna do this my way.”
“Okay by me. But what’re you going to do about Ms. Madison?”
“Huh?” Gabe felt the world tip slightly, but looked at his friend and asked, “What’re you talking about? What’s Grace got to do with this?”
Victor shook his head and pulled a PalmPilot from the pocket of the lightweight jacket he wore to cover up the gun at his hip. Turning the device on, he scanned the screen, looked up at Gabe and said, “According to the schedule, Ms. Madison’s due to arrive in three days.”
“
How could he have forgotten this? Grace’s visit had been arranged more than a month ago. But then, in the last month, he hadn’t thought about much more than Debbie Harris. Hardly surprising he’d forget about other plans when he was so wrapped up in his scheme for revenge.
Muttering dark threats just under his breath, Gabe shoved one hand through his hair, then kicked the edge of his desk. “I forgot all about her.”
Victor chuckled and put his PalmPilot away.
“This amuses you?” Gabe asked, his voice a thin, cold ribbon.
Victor wasn’t cowed, though. They’d been friends too long. He simply smiled and said, “You’ve got Debbie Harris staying in your suite…and in three days, your
Gabe scowled at him. Grace wasn’t his fiancée. Not officially. He hadn’t proposed, though he and Grace had reached an agreement the last time she’d visited.
“Oh, well, then. No problem.”
Gabe slumped back into his desk chair. Disgusted, he glanced at his friend. “You’re fired.”
“Hell, boss, you can’t fire me. I’m the only friend you’ve got left.”
Five
Gabe had come a long way from Long Beach, CA. Mingling with the rich, the powerful, the famous, he was completely at home. He wore a tuxedo as though he’d been born to it and used a smooth, practiced charm on the “beautiful” people surrounding him. And while he looked relaxed, Debbie could see, even at a distance, that his gaze was sharp as he swept the room, making sure everything was as it should be.
Then a glamorous brunette in a fire-engine-red dress that dipped low over her huge, had-to-be-man-made breasts and ended high on her thighs, leaned into Gabe and whispered something in his ear. He gave her a slow smile that set off a bubble of something hot and ugly in the pit of Debbie’s stomach. She didn’t have the right, of course, to care that he was smiling at a woman who clearly didn’t know the meaning of the word “subtle.”
But that didn’t seem to matter. When the brunette dipped her head and looked up at him through her lashes, Debbie muttered, “Oh, for God’s sake. What is this, Seduction 101?”
At least Gabe wasn’t buying what the woman seemed so intent on selling. He smiled again, then turned his attention back to the older, sophisticated couple standing on his right. The brunette pouted for a minute, then slipped into the crowd.
“Happy hunting,” Debbie whispered as she watched the scene play out from the doorway of Fantasies’ main club. A swirl of nerves jittered through her stomach and had her taking a long, deep breath in a futile attempt to settle herself.
Gabe may completely be at ease here, but she felt as out of place as a discount store in Beverly Hills. She knew she was here under false pretenses. After all, the people crowding this club were wealthy, pampered. She owned and operated a travel agency in Long Beach. She couldn’t be more different from Fantasies’ usual guests.
Nerves rattled through her again and she tried to ignore them. DJ-driven music pumped through cleverly disguised speakers on the dark-red walls and candlelight waved and flickered on every tabletop. On the dance floor, couples swayed in sensuous patterns, conversations and laughter rose and fell like waves on the ocean, and amid the sea of people, Debbie felt suddenly alone.
The only person she knew here was Gabe, and he was more or less a stranger now, anyway. Ten years was a long time and what they’d had together then had nothing to do with today.
Her hair was swept up into a tangle of curls and the soft kiss of an air-conditioned breeze brushed the back of Debbie’s neck. She shivered a bit, but knew it had little to do with the cool air and more to do with the uneasy situation she found herself in—depending on a man who had no reason to think well of her and no way of getting back home.
“Deep thoughts?”
Gabe’s voice rumbled across her nerve endings and she jolted a little as she turned to find him standing right beside her. His green eyes shone with an emotion she couldn’t quite identify and the subtle, spicy scent of his aftershave seemed to reach out for her. The man was a walking hormone assault.
“I didn’t hear you come up.”
“Looked like you were too busy thinking to hear much of anything.”
“I guess so,” she admitted, keeping her gaze locked with his.
When he smiled, the secrets in his eyes shifted, softened. Then he held one hand out to her and as she took it he said, “You look beautiful.”
The deep, sapphire-blue dress fit snug to her curves, as if it had been designed especially for her. It snaked down her hips and belled around her knees to fall to the floor in a fluid sweep of silky fabric. She’d never owned such an amazing dress and still wasn’t sure she should have accepted it.
She’d found it laid out for her on Gabe’s bed—and the shoes and matching bag were alongside it. Logically, she knew that buying her this dress had been no more to him than picking up a quart of milk at the corner grocery. But illogically, she felt wrong wearing a dress given to her by a man who didn’t even like her.
Swallowing hard, she said, “Thank you for the dress, Gabe. Really. It’s beautiful. But—”
“If you’re about to tell me I didn’t have to do it, save your breath.” He tucked her hand through the crook of his arm and led her into the crowded club. “I wanted you here tonight and you needed something appropriate.”
Meaning nothing she’d brought with her would do. Well, hard to be insulted by the truth. But still, it irritated her to have to acknowledge it.
“Thanks, anyway.”
“You’re welcome.” He looked down at her, smiled again and Debbie’s knees went a little wobbly.
A simple hormonal reaction, she assured herself as he steered her toward the dance floor. Didn’t mean a thing. Then he pulled her into the circle of his arms and slid into the crowd of slowly moving people on the gleaming wood floor.
His arms felt good—right. She moved against him and memories crowded her mind. Memories of a slow dance with him on the Long Beach pier one cold, autumn night ten years ago. The moon had been out, casting shadows over them and the dozen or so people joining them on the pier.
The scent of the sea had whipped around their bodies, the sweet rush of love had flowed between them. He’d smiled at her then, just as he was now, and when he’d kissed her, she’d known she loved him.
“You’re thinking again,” he whispered, bending his head to hers so that his voice and his breath caressed her ear, sending another shiver over her body.
“Just…remembering,” she said, her hand on his shoulder tightening, to help her balance.
“The pier.”
Her head tipped back and she stared up at him, surprised somehow, that he’d allowed himself that memory. Hadn’t he made a point in the last couple of days, of telling her that he had no interest in the past?
“You remember?”
He moved her into a slow turn, his arm about her waist squeezed, pulling her closer to him. Close enough that she felt the hard ridge of his body pressing into hers.