Consent (The Loan Shark Duet 2)

“It’s okay.” I cup his cheek when he presses his face to my stomach. “What you did was wrong, but I don’t resent having Connor.”

There’s more to discuss, but we have time, and for now I forget everything as his fingers move to my center.

“We’re not supposed to…” I moan when he parts me gently.

“I won’t penetrate you. Just a taste.”

His tongue licks over my folds, finding my aching clit. The hot wetness of his mouth feels amazing, but the pleasure makes my womb contract, and that hurts. I groan in frustrated disappointment when he stops.

“Sorry.” He gives me a sheepish look. “I couldn’t resist.”

He picks me up and carries me to the bed as if I’m made of paper-thin glass. Shifting in behind me, he holds me to his body, skin against skin, until I drift off to the promise he made in the clinic when he whispered he loved me. When I said those same words to him, he didn’t believe me, but it doesn’t matter. I have all the time in the world to convince him. One day, if I’m lucky, I may hear those precious words coming from his lips again.

I wake up alone. The sheets on Gabriel’s side of the bed are cold. He can be in the shower or working out in the gym. Only, I know he isn’t. There’s an instinctive knowledge in my soul. A dark feeling folds foreboding wings around me. My heart flaps in the cage of my ribs.

“Gabriel?”

I get out of bed and pull on a robe. Making my way downstairs as fast as my stitches allow, I call his name again, but all I get is my echo in the empty space.

“Valentina?” Quincy steps into the kitchen, concern etched on his face. “Is everything all right?”

“Gabriel.” I walk to the kitchen as if I’m walking on pins. “Gabriel’s gone.”

“Hey.” He rushes to meet me and takes my arm. “He left early to take care of business. He’ll be back after breakfast.”

I sit down in the chair he pulls out for me. “Where did he go?”

“The Brixton office.”

“With Rhett?”

“Yes.”

Even knowing Rhett is with him doesn’t make me breathe easier. “Why?”

“With Magda gone, there’s a lot to iron out.”

We haven’t talked about the business or what his plans are, yet. Maybe he feels it doesn’t concern me. “He works for Michael. Does that mean he’s going back to the loan business?”

Quincy looks uncomfortable. “I don’t know about that. You’ll have to ask him.”

There’s still such a huge gap between Gabriel and I and where I stand in our relationship.

“Can I make you a cup of coffee?” Quincy asks with a scrunched-up brow. “Maybe tea?”

I clutch my stomach and push to my feet. “I need to speak to him. Now.” I can’t shake this horrible feeling crawling over my skin.

“Whoa.” He pushes me back into the chair. “Stay put. Gabriel will skin me alive if you tear your stitches. I’ll get your phone. Where is it?”

“Thank you,” I whisper. “On the night stand in the bedroom.”

“I’ll be right back.” He bolts up the stairs, taking them two by two.

I don’t care that the bed is unmade or that my clothes are scattered over the floor where Gabriel dropped each item last night after meticulously studying every inch of my body, not as if he was saying goodbye. Worse. As if he’d never set eyes on me again. My throat tightens. I grip the chair, battling to breathe.

Quincy comes bouncing down the stairs with my phone and holds it out to me. “Here you go.” He does a double take. “Jesus, Val. You’re as white as a sheet. Are you okay? Shall I call a doctor? Gabriel said I must call Dr. Engelbrecht if you don’t feel well.”

I take the phone with a shaking hand. “I just need to hear his voice.”

I scroll through my call list and push the dial. Pressing the phone to my ear, I wait impatiently for the call to connect. If only I can speak to him, this irrational fear will let me go. My world will be all right, my life aligned.

Hope plummets with an uneasy turn of my stomach when his phone goes straight onto voicemail.

“Gabriel,” I wet my dry lips, “please call me. I need to hear your voice. I need to tell you things, too many things I can’t say over the phone.” I start to cry. “I want to tell you how much I love you, and that I’m staying because I want to. I want to give this relationship my best shot. I want to make the vows I took real. Please, please, Gabriel, don’t take this chance away from me. Don’t leave without giving me a chance to say this. You owe me, do you hear me? You owe me this chance.” My tears run in rivulets down my face. “Please, call me back.” I hang up, utterly devastated. Lowering my head to my hands, I weep like never before.