Rush
Page 38

 Maya Banks

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Gabe was dressed and ready, and they headed down to the lobby of the hotel where Gabe got a map and spent a few moments speaking to the concierge. After that, they were on their way.
They left the hotel, and Mia sucked in her breath at the beauty of the day. There was a crispness to the air that immediately refreshed her. There couldn’t be a more perfect day to sight-see in Paris. The sky was brilliantly blue without a single cloud to mar it.
After the first block, Mia shivered when a brisk wind with a biting chill blew down the street. Gabe frowned and then broke away, heading for one of the vendors that lined the block.
He chose a brightly colored scarf, handed Euros to the man and then returned to where Mia stood on the sidewalk. He looped the scarf around her neck, covering the lobes of her ears with the warm material.
“Better?” he asked.
She smiled. “Perfect.”
He gathered her to his side, holding her tightly against his body as they continued their walk. Mia sucked in deep breaths, reveling in the sheer beauty of the city. She stopped often, looking into the windows of shops or taking time to browse the street vendors. Through it all Gabe was patient and attentive. If Mia so much as looked as though she liked something, Gabe was quick to purchase it. As a result, they now carried several shopping bags with them.
The view from the Eiffel Tower was magnificent. They stood staring down at the city of Paris, the wind ruffling Mia’s hair and tugging at the ends of the scarf.
Impulsively, she went up on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his mouth. His eyes darkened with surprise and what looked like relief.
As her heels hit the ground again she grinned ruefully. “It’s always been a dream of mine to be kissed on top of the Eiffel Tower.”
“Then let’s do it right,” Gabe said gruffly.
He dropped the bags he was holding and pulled her into his arms. He cupped her chin, tilting her head up so her mouth was angled perfectly for his. Then his lips slid warmly over hers, his tongue brushing lightly, coaxing her to open to his advance.
She sighed into his mouth and closed her eyes, soaking up every second of the experience. Here in one of the most romantic cities in the world, she was fulfilling a teenage dream. What woman wouldn’t want to be kissed atop the Eiffel Tower?
The rest of the day was more fulfillment of her most vivid romantic fantasies. They saw the sights, laughed, smiled and took in the wonders of the city. Gabe was so very tender and he spoiled her endlessly.
At one point, he called for a driver to take their bags back to the hotel because they’d become too much for them to carry.
And at the day’s end, he took her to a restaurant overlooking the Seine. Dusk had descended, and all the lights twinkled and popped against the skyline. She was tired from all the walking, but there had never been a more perfect day.
As they waited for their entrees, Gabe reached underneath the table and propped her feet on his lap. Unlacing her shoes, he pulled them off and began to massage each foot.
She groaned in sheer pleasure as he pressed into her arches and rubbed the soles.
“We’ll take a cab back to the hotel,” he said. “You’ve walked enough today. Your feet will likely hurt tomorrow.”
“They hurt now,” she said ruefully. “But this has been the most fabulous day, Gabe. I can’t thank you enough for it.”
He sobered instantly. “No need to thank me, Mia. I’d do damn near anything to make you smile.”
His gaze was so serious, his eyes intent. Every time he’d looked at her today, there had been a softness that made her heart squeeze just a bit. Almost as if he cared for her. Beyond just as a sexual object.
Their food came and Mia dug in with gusto, even though they’d snacked on delicious pastries, breads and cheeses the entire day. She slowed toward the end of the meal, because as wonderful as the day had been, she knew that when they returned to the hotel that it would be time to face the issue they were currently avoiding.
She wasn’t in any hurry to end the day. It would be a memory she would savor her entire life. No matter what happened in the future, she would never forget her time in Paris with Gabe.
When it came time to go, Gabe took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers, and they walked out to the patio overlooking the river. A dinner cruise floated by, the lights twinkling festively.
It was a gorgeous night. Chilly. Heralding the coming winter.
Overhead, a full moon was rising, just barely peeking over the horizon. She sighed, taking in the view, the boats, the couples walking along the pathway paralleling the river. Yes, it had been a perfect day and a perfect evening.
Gabe pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her to keep her warm as they watched the activity on the river. He kissed her temple and then tucked her head beneath his chin.
An ache began in her chest that wouldn’t go away. If only things could be between them this way all the time. It was a hope—a dream—that wouldn’t go away. She closed her eyes and savored the moment. The feel of him and their closeness.
He seemed as reluctant as she was to end the evening. He tucked her hand into his and guided her toward the taxi queue just down the block. A few minutes later, they were on their way back to the hotel.
Back to the reality that awaited them.
Chapter thirty-two
Mia sat on the bed, one of Gabe’s T-shirts pulled down her thighs nearly to her knees. Gabe was in the shower and she waited nervously for him to come to bed. It had taken her time to figure out exactly what she wanted to say. She hadn’t wanted to react too quickly when her emotions were scattered. She hadn’t wanted to do or say things she’d later regret. This was too important.
But now she’d gathered her courage and she was ready to confront Gabe. Not with an ultimatum. But with the truth.
The door opened and he came out, a towel hung loosely at his waist. His hair was damp and moisture glistened on his upper body. He was…beautiful. There was no other word for it.
The towel slipped as he reached into his suitcase for his underwear, and she got a prime view of his ass and when he turned, his cock, impressive even at complete rest.
She averted her gaze, feeling guilty that she was so unapologetically eating him with her eyes. She didn’t want to get distracted.
When he came to the bed, she caught her breath and plunged forward. If she didn’t get it out there, she’d never say all the things she needed to get off her chest. It was better to just say it, no matter how inelegant her wording.
“I hated last night,” she said bluntly, her words soft and trembling.
He closed his eyes briefly, pausing in his descent into bed. He perched instead on the edge, keeping a short distance between the two of them.
“I know,” he said quietly.
She continued, knowing she still had more to say—more that she needed to say.
“I hated him touching me. I know what I agreed to, Gabe. I know I signed a contract. And I know I said I wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea, or at least experimenting. But I don’t want anyone else but you touching me. I felt violated. I felt dirty. And I don’t want to ever feel that way about my relationship with you.”
“Oh God, baby, no,” he whispered.
His expression was stricken and his eyes wounded.
And still she continued, unwilling to let him speak yet.
“I don’t give a damn what the contract says,” she said hoarsely. “I hate that thing right now. The only man I want even looking at me is you. Not someone you decide to let borrow your plaything.”
A strangled noise erupted from his throat but she held up her hand, determined to say her piece. God, she couldn’t let him interrupt now or she’d never have the courage to say all she had to say.
“I won’t do it again.” She shook her head adamantly to reinforce her point. So he would know how serious she was. “I know I agreed to allow it, but I don’t want it. I’ll never want it. I hated every minute of it. If it ever happens again, I’m done. I’ll walk away and I won’t ever be back.”
As if he couldn’t hold back a minute longer, he reached for her, hauling her into his arms and against his chest. He held her so tightly that she couldn’t breathe.
“I’m sorry, Mia. I’m so damn sorry. It will never happen again. Ever. No one will ever touch you. God, I hated every goddamn minute of it. I was going to put a stop to it but then I heard you cry out. Heard the fear in your voice and you saying no. And I swore to you that it was the only word you’d ever need to say for me or anyone else to stop. And then that son of a bitch hit you before I could get to you. Sweet mother of God, I’ll never forgive myself for that, Mia. Never. For that fear, for that bastard making you do things you didn’t want.”
He shook against her. His hands rubbed up and down her back in agitation. He pulled her head away and palmed her face, staring intently into her eyes.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for what I did. I hated it. Hated it, Mia.”
“Then why did you do it?”
His gaze dropped and he looked away, his hands sliding from her face. He closed his eyes, disgust simmering in his features. “Because I’m a goddamn coward.”
His voice was so low she almost didn’t hear what he said, and even so she wasn’t sure he said what she thought he said. What did it mean?
Then he reached for her hand, squeezing tightly. He brought it up to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the inside of her palm.
“Know this, Mia. It will never happen again. I’m asking you to forgive the unforgivable. Yes, you signed an agreement, but it wasn’t what you wanted. Not last night. Not any night. And I think I knew that even before. I knew it and I still gave that bastard permission to touch you, and I hate myself for that. It’s my responsibility to know your wants and desires and place them above my own. I didn’t do that last night.”
It didn’t make sense to her why he’d done it at all. It had come out of the blue. Even though they’d discussed the possibility, she hadn’t ever gotten the idea that he was going to actually do it.
She had to wonder what was going on in his mind when he’d invited those men back to the suite. He’d been moody and brooding since before they’d left New York City. Did that have anything to do with his decision? Was he trying to make some point she didn’t understand? Or did it have nothing to do with her at all?
“I’m sorry, baby.” His voice dropped even lower, so much regret seeping into his words. “Please forgive me. Please say you’ll stay and not walk out. It’s what you should do, absolutely. I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve your sweetness or your understanding. But I want it. God help me but I’m not sure I can live without it.”
It was the closest he’d ever come to admitting she meant more to him than sex.
She leaned forward, pushing up to her knees, her hands going to his face.
“You don’t have to live without it—or me,” she whispered. “I’m here, Gabe. I’m not going anywhere. But it has to be just us. You and me. No other men.” She could barely contain the shudder that threatened to roll up her spine.
His eyes ignited with relief. Then he crushed her to him, holding on, hugging her tightly. He kissed her temple, her head, every part of her hair, almost as if he could do nothing else but touch her in some way. “Just us,” he whispered against her ear. “I swear it.”
Then he pulled away just enough that he could rest his forehead against hers.
“Let’s go home, Mia. I want to put this behind us. I want you to be able to forget it and wipe it from your memory. I know I hurt you terribly. I swear to you I’m going to make it up to you.”
She savored the fervent promise, held tightly to it. He spoke as if they had a future, as if he wanted more than just contractual sex. Was she a fool for believing that?
She looped her arms around his neck. “Make love to me, Gabe. Make our last night in Paris special.”
“Ah baby,” he said, a catch in his voice. “I’m going to love every inch of you tonight. And then I’ll hold you all the way home while you rest on the plane.”
• • •
Mia woke in the middle of the night and blinked to adjust to the low light. There was a narrow beam shining from the bathroom, and it illuminated Gabe’s sleeping features.
She was tucked securely into his side, his leg thrown over both of hers, effectively trapping her against him. His arm was slung securely over her body. Even in sleep he was intensely possessive.
Only he had been willing to allow other men to touch her, so how possessive could he really be?
But there was no faking the very real regret and agony in his face when he’d apologized profusely to her. She still wasn’t sure of the reasons why, but she knew it had done something to him. Something profound. Something maybe even he didn’t understand.
She tried to disentangle herself from his hold and he came awake, his eyes bleary with sleep.