I bite my lower lip. I don't have this conversation willingly with anyone. The pain of her death might not be as raw as it was the morning I found her in her bed cold and unmoving, but it's still a loss I'll never get over. "Yes, sir. She died."
"I'm sorry to hear that." He reaches down to touch my hand.
I stare at his hand, marveling in how large it is compared to mine. "Thank you, Mr. Foster. I appreciate that."
"Gabriel." He runs his index finger over the top of my hand. "I'd prefer if you called me Gabriel."
The feeling of his finger tracing a path over my skin gives me goosebumps. The sound of his voice touches me in a way that is both unnerving and arousing. "Gabriel. I'll call you Gabriel."
"I'm the first to admit that I have no musical talent at all. My brother inherited all the talent in our family."
"You mean Asher?" I ask without thinking. "Of course you mean Asher. He's everywhere right now."
"He's in Tokyo, right now, on tour." His mouth twitches. "I'm still adjusting to my youngest brother being a rock star."
"I think he's incredibly talented," I offer. "I love his music. I listen to it all the time."
He slides one of his hands over the seat back behind my head, the other jumps to the black leather on the seat next to me caging me in. He's so close that I can smell the scent of his cologne. "Tell me about your birthday, Isla. I heard your friends mention it tonight. What does a woman like you have planned for such a special day?"
I peer out the tinted window at the streets of Manhattan. It's near midnight but the city is still alive. People are walking along the sidewalks, taxis and cars are speeding past us as we drive towards my apartment. "I haven't thought about it."
"There must be something special you'd enjoy? Perhaps an experience you've never had before."
I turn quickly to look at him.
"A woman your age should be experiencing new things." His hand leaves the seat; trailing a slow path up my arm towards my shoulder before it reaches my chin. "The city is filled with many possibilities."
I feel a flush of desire race up my neck. I swallow hard trying to chase away the lump that is there in my throat. Even if I wanted to respond, I doubt that any sound that escapes me right now would resemble anything other than a deep and uncontrollable moan.
The car lurches to a stop but I'm so mesmerized by the way he's looking at me that I don't move an inch. I don't want to. I've never been this close to a man like this and I've definitely never had a man look at me the way he is right now.
"You're home." He leans in closer. "Let me be the first to wish you a happy birthday."
I catch my breath as his head dips towards me. I moan faintly and just as I begin to close my eyes, I feel his lips brush against my cheek.
"Happy Birthday, Isla," he says in a whisper against my skin. "May it be the best year of your life."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Gabriel
Her skin smells like perfection. I linger once I've kissed her cheek, knowing that I need to step out of the car so I can walk her into the building.
We're still, so still. Her breathing is ragged and fast. My lips still resting against her, my hands fisted in a visible sign of the internal struggle I'm fighting.
I want her.
I want to kiss her beautiful lips.
I want to fuck her sweet, lush body.
"Mr. Foster." Her voice is so soft that I can barely hear her. "Gabriel, please."
Please.
Her hand moves from her lap to my forearm. She grips the material of my jacket in her fist before she releases it. I tremble as I feel it move up my bicep, my shoulder and then finally, it rests against the back of my neck.
It's an invitation; just as the sound of her breathing is. Just as the movement of her thighs against the leather, as she parts them a touch, is.