Lauren (Silicon Valley Billionaires 1)

I melted against his palm, then I remembered myself and opened my eyes. Gabe was staring at me. Suddenly, yet another room felt too hot.

He traced my jaw with his finger. “So, do I?”

“What?”

“Have a shot with you?”

“I have no idea what that means,” I said weakly.

“I know.” He smiled at me. This time, it was his nice smile…the one with the dimple. “But I’d like to show you, if you’ll let me.”

Chapter 8

Gabe’s hands gripped the steering wheel of his Porsche as he maneuvered through the late-afternoon traffic. “I want to send a message to Clive.”

“What sort of message?”

“He needs to understand that not only are you powerful, but that you have powerful allies. Who can hurt him. Who would enjoy hurting him, actually.” He must’ve seen the alarmed look on my face, because he smiled at me reassuringly. “Not just me—my security team’s been bored lately. Nobody’s tried to hack me for weeks. They need something to do.”

I swallowed hard. “I don’t want you to break the law. I’m already in trouble. I don’t want you in trouble too. There’s too much at stake.”

“That’s the point. I have a lot to lose now too.”

I knew he meant his business interest in Paragon, but there was another undercurrent to what he said. Something more…personal. The thought thrilled me while simultaneously frightening me. I looked at my watch. “I need to call my sister,” I said, eager to change the subject. “She’ll be worried.”

Gabe trained his eyes on the road. “Of course.”

Hannah picked up immediately. “Where are you? Stephanie said you’d left, and I’ve been freaking out—”

“I’m with Gabe,” I interrupted her. “We’re going to his house. Security’s following me. Everything’s okay.”

We chatted benignly for a minute. I could tell she was burning with curiosity, but she couldn’t give voice to it. Why aren’t you at work? What about the picture with the supermodel? You said you’re going to Gabe’s house, but for what?

For what, indeed?

I hung up as we pulled up to an electronic gate. Gabe rolled down his window and placed his thumb against a scanner. The gate immediately swung open.

“Fancy,” I said.

“The lady likes the high tech. Phew. I might be in better shape than I thought.”

I said nothing, trying to suppress a smile. He looked as if he were in excellent shape, and I had a feeling I might be about to confirm that once and for all.

We pulled up the long drive to the base of what he called his home. But I had a home. Gabe had what could only be described as an estate.

He got out and opened the winglike car door for me, offering his hand.

“This is your house?” I stared up at the massive stone structure with warm lights and ivy climbing its walls. “Who do you live here with?”

Gabe looked sheepish. “Myself. Want a tour?”

“Do you even know your way around this whole place?”

He laughed. “It’s not that big. Wait—text your driver and security.” He nodded as my car pulled up behind his. “They can hang out and have pizza with my driver and security.”

“You have a driver and security?”

“I have one guy who’s my driver. I never let him drive, though. And I have security—I always have men at the house, and others on the grounds and at Dynamica.”