Scandal Never Sleeps (The Perfect Gentlemen 1)

She walked over to the bar and stepped behind it. “The next ridiculously expensive bottle of liquor I find is mine. I’ll sell it and pay off my college loans.”

“He’s got a record player in here. How crazy is that?” He looked at the antique thing sitting on a shelf behind the bar. He’d seen something like it in movies before. The base looked like an old record player, but there was a funnel-like appendage attached.

“It’s a gramophone,” she explained. “Turn the handle and see if it plays.”

A vinyl record sat on the machine. He found the handle and gave it a few turns. Louis Armstrong’s “Body and Soul” played through the room.

“That is really incredible.” She gaped, listening with reverence. “It’s like we’ve gone back in time eighty-five years.”

“Is that right, doll?” He did a James Cagney impersonation that was best described as terrible.

Clearly trying not to laugh, she bowed her head, lips pursed together. Then something behind the bar caught her eye.

“Look at this.” She grabbed a metal box and set it on the polished wooden surface. The metallic sheen glimmered in the low light. “There’s a combination lock securing it shut.” She glanced Gabe’s way. “Any idea what this is?”

He shook his head, drinking in her excitement. Then his logic kicked in, and he frowned. Mad had barely kept anything locked in his safe. Why would he stash a metal lockbox in a hidden room, especially when all someone had to do was pick it up and cut off the lock? Mad’s mind had worked in mysterious ways, so he couldn’t be sure . . . except Gabe wondered if his friend was trying to tell him something from beyond the grave.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” she breathed. “We may have found something.”

He liked the way she said we. He knew he should jump all over her find—and he would—but he couldn’t let this moment by without touching her.

“Yeah.” Gabe held out his hand. “Come here, baby.”

She stopped, her full attention focused on him. “Gabriel . . .”

“Dance with me, Everly. Just one dance. How often are you going to get to dance in a real speakeasy?”

She pursed her lips for a moment, but then they turned up into a smile. “You know how to motivate me, Bond.”

She joined him in the middle of the room.

“I like it when you call me Gabriel.” He drew her lush body to his, closing his eyes at the perfection of her curves against him.

As he began to lead her around the floor in time to the romantic jazz tune, he was thankful for all the stupid dance lessons he’d been forced to take and the cotillions he’d endured. It made this moment so much easier to sway to the music with Everly, bringing her closer and closer.

She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world. As if she belonged there. “But everyone else calls you Gabe.”

“Some people call you Eve,” he argued.

“Mostly my dad. Now that he’s gone . . . it makes me a little sad.”

“Even when I called you Eve during our weekend together? It felt right to say it because you were so perfect, like the woman God must have modeled all others after.”

She stiffened but didn’t withdraw from his embrace. “This really isn’t a good idea.”

Of course it wasn’t, but he was done fighting his need. “Dance with me.”

She settled back down, relaxing a bit against him. “This place really is incredible. How did Maddox keep it secret from everyone, even you?”

He could smell the citrus of the shampoo she’d used and a hint of her peachy-soft skin. “I have no idea. This place would have been a playground for him. I’ll ask Sara if he ever mentioned it.”

He stopped when he would have gone on. It seemed natural to talk to Everly, but it wasn’t right to discuss his sister with her until he was sure what Everly’s relationship with Mad had truly been.

But she didn’t seem upset or jealous—or have any reaction at all—to Sara’s name.

The music played and they swayed together. Everly’s head came up. Her eyes gleamed as she stared at him. “This is crazy.”

“Yeah. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

She scoffed. “You’ve met a lot of women. It was hard for me to date when I was a teenager. My father would meet any potential boyfriend at the door in full uniform, gun included.”

His parents hadn’t met the first girl he’d fucked. Or the second. Or the third. “Your dad sounds like a smart man.”

He had a sudden vision of the daughter Everly would surely have one day. The girl would have her strawberry-blond hair and sweet smile. And the boys would be all over her. He could do one better than her dad. He could hire bodyguards to protect her virtue.

Damn. He’d thought about having kids with Everly Parker. He was in way, way too deep.

“I didn’t have a real boyfriend until I was in college. Do you know how he met my dad? When we were driving home for the weekend so I could introduce him, Dad pulled him over for speeding. Did a pat down and everything. I swear, I think the only reason Bryan stayed with me was fear that my father would hunt him down if he made me cry.”

“I would like to have met your father. He probably would have been better than the cops I dealt with today.”

“Oh, he would have been so much harder on you. But I think he would have liked you, too. You’re not what he would have expected.”

He was fairly certain what people expected of him. “He would have thought I’d be immature and entitled?”

Her cheeks flushed and her gaze slid away from him. “Pretty much. But you’re not. I think you’re like the rest of us, just trying to hold it together.”

He was trying to hold on to her. For the first time in his life, he’d found someone he couldn’t let go of. “Everly, I need you.”

She rose up on her toes, her head tilted back. “I don’t want to but I think I need you, too.”

It was as close to an invitation as she’d likely give him, and he wasn’t going to question or refuse her. He also wasn’t going to rush this time. He’d been out of control with her this morning. It was time to remind her how well he could take care of her.

He cupped her face, his body never losing the rhythm of the dance. Her hands drifted to his waist, holding on to him. She exhaled, closed her eyes, and offered herself up.

His lips met hers in a sensual brush. As their feet kept time to the music, he led her lips in a dance as well. He sank his fingers into her hair and gave over to the deep need to surround himself with this woman. He slid his tongue along her lower lip until she drew in an aroused breath. Then he invaded.

Everly opened for him, her tongue seeking and gliding along his, teasing and playing. She pressed her body flush against his chest. As the kiss deepened, they lost the dance, primal need taking control.

He slid his hands down to her spectacular ass and dragged her fully against him, letting her feel the hard stalk of his erection, so ready to pleasure her. He’d been surprised at how readily s

he responded to him, but he reacted to her with equal enthusiasm. When she walked in a room, his body prepared itself for sex. When he even thought about her, he got tense and needy.

“Gabriel, how do you do this to me?” She whispered against his lips as her hands began exploring his body.

This was chemistry at its finest, but there was a little piece of him that thought it might be something more. He didn’t say it. He could barely think it when he wasn’t sure where she’d come from or who she’d been to Mad. “We fit. We’re good together.”

There was a very nice couch only steps away, and Gabriel backed her toward it. He didn’t want to wait. Didn’t think he could stand to.

She sank down to the couch and looked up at him, the softness in her eyes slamming into him like a runaway freight train.