Managed (VIP 2)

I place my hand over my heart in dramatic fashion. “Damn you, sunshine, you’ve used my one weakness against me.”

“Curious as ten cats. Yes, I know. Which means you’re helpless to resist.” He inclines his head toward the door. “Come along, chatty girl. The night is young.”

It’s two in the morning. But Madrid is just getting warmed up. I move to do up the tiny buckles of my high-heeled sandals but pause. “These okay for where you’re taking me, oh secretive one?”

His gaze slides over my bare legs to where my sky blue sundress flirts with my thighs, and his lids lower a fraction, his expression turning hooded. “You’re good.”

Oh, that voice, so growly and gruff, deep and rich like hot cocoa and buttered toast. He talks, and I want to eat him up. I both love and hate what his voice does to me. One man shouldn’t have so much power. Two words shouldn’t be able to make my thighs clench and my skin turn hypersensitive.

Maybe that’s what makes me raise my foot, pointing my toe to show off my leg to its best advantage. “You’re sure?” I run a hand along my thigh, lifting my skirt to show a bit more skin.

Gabriel’s nostrils flare. The muscled breadth of his chest expands and slowly lowers as he exhales. That he’s visibly calming himself sends a bolt of pure heat straight through me, and my knees almost buckle.

“Sophie,” he says, low and tight.

“Yes?” Damn, that sounded too breathy.

“Cut the shit.”

I grin wide. Gotcha. I give him a shrug and let my skirt settle back around my legs before walking toward the door with a little extra wiggle in my step.

He follows with a grunt, which could mean annoyance or humor—it’s hard to say with Gabriel. But I know this: the man needs to be teased and challenged more than anyone I’ve ever met. Sometimes I wonder if he’s been waiting for it, bored out of his mind.

Or maybe I’m the one who’s been waiting. Everything feels strange now, and nothing is as it used to be. Before I was going through the motions of life. Now I’m aware of every step I take. I’m aware of his hand hovering just behind the small of my back as he walks with me, and of the steady cadence of his breathing as we take the elevator down.

Anticipation zings through me, and it’s not because we’re going out for the night; it’s because I’m with him.

We don’t speak as we make our way downstairs and out to the car he’s hired. Doesn’t matter. It’s a comfortable silence, the kind you have with people you’ve known for ages. I suppose sleeping together all the time will do that for you.

He takes us to a club with a long line around it. Not surprisingly, we pull right up to the front door and someone whisks us inside, much to the interest of the people waiting in line.

Inside, it’s packed. Beautiful women, dressed in next to nothing, undulate and sway to the beat. Their eyes track Gabriel’s movements with blatant interest. A few hands reach out to caress, running over his arms and shoulders. One bold woman makes a grab for his ass.

I don’t even realize I’ve hissed at her like a possessive cat until Gabriel gently grasps my elbow and steers me away. “Put away the claws, chatty girl. My honor is secure.”

“I’m pretty sure referring to women as cats is sexist,” I say, never mind I just thought of myself in the same way.

He doesn’t spare me a glance. “I’ll turn in my feminist card when we get home.”

Home. No, I will not enjoy that word too much. It’s temporary. It’s all temporary. And if I remind myself of this enough, I’ll eventually believe it.

Gabriel makes his way to the bar, and I check out the scene while he orders. He comes back with two icy cocktails. “Black mojitos,” he says, handing me one. “House specialty, apparently.”

It’s so rare to see him drink that, when he does, I notice. “Do you not drink often because your dad…”

“Was an alcoholic?” he supplies dryly. “In part. And I don’t like losing control.”

“No, I don’t suppose you would.” But I’d like to see it. Not in an ugly way, but Gabriel unleashed in bed? All that icy power morphing into a powder keg of heat and want?

His blue gaze rakes over my face at that moment. “Why are you blushing?”

“Not blushing. I’m hot, is all.” I take a big sip of my drink. God, that’s good. And dangerous. I cannot get drunk around Gabriel. My mouth will spew all sorts of lewd suggestions.

He gives me a dubious look but says no more.

While we have our drinks, a few techs mess about on the stage, setting up for a concert. I lean closer to Gabriel to be heard above the noise of the house music. “You know who’s playing?”