Dare to Surrender (5 page)

I started breathing again, picking up on Gabe’s words mid-conversation. “I’m not answering any more of your damned questions about Izzy, and I don’t expect she’ll want to hear from you again.”

I had never been called that before. I liked it.

Whatever Lance said, Gabe smirked and said, “I want her things delivered to my office immediately. Any money she came into your relationship with, I expect a check for that amount on my desk by the end of the week. And tack on interest.”

Now I could still hear Lance shouting into the phone as Gabe disconnected the call and tossed the phone onto the bed.

“You okay?” he asked me.

I nodded. Then I did the dumbest thing I could do considering all the changes I’d promised myself I’d make in my life. I jumped up, flung my arms around his neck, and kissed him. Full on the lips. His masculine scent overwhelmed me, causing a fluttering deep in my belly and a quickening between my thighs. But his firm lips didn’t move.

He didn’t respond.

Didn’t melt like I was melting.

Disappointment filled me, followed quickly by humiliation I was only too familiar with. How many times had I tried to seduce Lance, only to have him pull my arms off him so he could roll over, claiming exhaustion?

I’d overreacted, mistaking help for something more, and since I didn’t need or want that
something
at this point in my life, I shored up my defenses and pulled away.

“Well. Now that I’ve properly thanked you, we can move on.” I fought the blush I knew had formed on my cheeks.

“You’re welcome,” he said but didn’t release me. He merely held on more tightly, his fingers digging into my wrists, pulling at my shoulders, all of which had the unfortunate effect of turning me on even more.

We stared into each other’s eyes, and my breathing grew shallow. Oh hell, I was nearly panting with need, my breasts straining against the already-tight tank. I didn’t understand this side effect of rejection.

But if he was rejecting me, why hadn’t he let me go? “I don’t understand.” I could have been talking about his actions or mine.

“You will, Iz. In time.”

I shivered at his shortening of my name. “How much time?”

A seductive smile tipped his lips, making it seem like he was far from disinterested. “I want to fuck you, kitten, but when I do, it won’t be about gratitude. And it will be on my terms.”

“Oh.”

Lance never used the word
fuck
in bed, and if he had, it wouldn’t have had me nearly coming from the sound alone.

My lips parted, and he swooped in, sliding his mouth over mine, all too briefly but enough for a taste.

A tease.

He yanked back harder on my wrists, and at the same time, he nipped at my lips. It stung there, while between my legs, a fullness the likes of which I’d never experienced before began to throb. Slick moisture dampened my underwear. Swaying forward, I moaned into his mouth.

At which point he released me. Only his strong arm around my waist prevented me from falling. My head spun from his seductive scent, his arousing kiss, the firm tone of his voice. Confusion and more warred inside me.

Gabe stepped back, apparently having none of the same problems. “I need to take care of some things at work. When I get back, we’ll talk about your plans.”

Plans. I blinked. That’s right. I had plans. It was a good thing he was going to the office. Distance would do me some good and remind me I didn’t need a man to make my life complete.

Nor did I need him to make me come. Something I planned to do as soon as Gabe left for the office.

*     *     *

Isabelle: The Secret Room

After I’d showered and taken care of …
things
, I headed into the kitchen to find Gabe had left me a note. “Iz”—there was that shortened name again, and I couldn’t suppress a smile—“went to the office. Make yourself at home. And be good while I’m gone.”

I didn’t know how to be anything else.

I poured coffee from a pot Gabe had left for me, from a coffee maker built into the backsplash in the kitchen, and turned on the TV. The morning news droned around me as I toasted a bagel, slathered it with cream cheese, and settled in to eat. And to think.

At the moment, I was … for lack of a better word, stuck. At least with my money and clothes arriving, thanks to Gabe’s demand, I’d feel more like myself, more in control of myself and my life. Then I could set about pondering what I wanted to do with my life.

The last time I’d been on my own and at a crossroads, I’d set out for New York City, to Parsons School of Design on a scholarship. It had led to an internship and, ultimately, a job after graduation at Lisa Stern Designs, a one-woman design firm that catered to various types of clientele, from home renovations to the occasional country club overhaul. I’d been hungry to learn, to work, but I’d also yearned for love and a relationship where I contributed and was a valued, equal partner.

That
had been my one weakness, one Lance had homed in on. Before I knew it, I’d swapped a smart set of dreams for less practical ones he’d destroyed. And though I should be over that need, the yearning for family and the need to belong still lived inside me. However, I needed to be intelligent, and this time, I would be.

I sipped my coffee and sighed in pleasure at the perfect-tasting brew just as Gabe’s home phone rang. One ring, and an answering machine picked up. Next thing I heard was an older woman’s voice over the phone line.

“Good morning, Mr. Dare, this is Amelia. I won’t be able to make it in to clean today, after all. I have a family emergency, but in all likelihood, I can get there tomorrow. I hope this doesn’t cause you too much of an inconvenience. I’ll have the spare room taken care of first thing in the morning. Only call me back if the timing doesn’t work for you.”

Cleaning. I wrinkled my nose. The apartment itself was pristine, as if it had been professionally sanitized just yesterday, so I couldn’t imagine Gabe being upset his cleaning woman had cancelled. Then again, if he needed that spare room taken care of today, that was something I could do. Making myself useful around here would feel good, since I was already worried about taking advantage.

A quick search in the cabinets and pantry turned up cleaning supplies, but before I lugged everything into the spare room, the door to which had been closed yesterday, I figured I’d peek and see just what it needed.

I walked down the hallway, turned the knob, and let myself in. The bed was unmade, the sheets rumpled, pillows dented and haphazardly strewn around. Who had slept in here? I stepped farther into the room, noting the furnishing was starker than Lucy’s room, less warm and welcoming, the only furniture a king-sized four-poster bed, nightstands, and an armoire. No television. No clock or iPod holder. No pictures on the walls. I eased past the bed, which boasted black satin sheets and comforter, taking it all in.

I inhaled, and Gabe’s cologne surrounded me. I looked into the bathroom, finding it, too, needed cleaning. There were towels on the floor, a toothbrush and open toothpaste on the vanity.

A glance down showed me everything I needed to know and wished I hadn’t seen. Plastic condom wrappers in the garbage can.

My stomach heaved, and my heart stupidly squeezed in my chest. I didn’t know how long I stood there staring, trying to make sense of this man I didn’t know.

He’d made sure to keep me out of this room, and now I knew why. He’d had sex in this room. Recently. The evidence forced me to confront the ugly truth. No sooner had he rescued me from the police station than he’d decided to let Naomi go.

I’d known, of course, but I’d been too thrown by the events of the night to process the cold, methodical reality. He’d had no problem dumping the woman he’d currently been involved with, the decision made in an instant. What did it say about his heart, or lack of one?

Having been on the receiving end of being cheated on, I didn’t like knowing Gabe was essentially capable of the same thing. Or, if not cheating, so easily walking away from a relationship he was in.

I eased out of the room and headed for the other side of the apartment and paused in front of the master bedroom where Gabe slept. Yet he obviously
fucked
in the other room clear across the way. That was brutal.

I want to fuck you, kitten. But when I do, it won’t be about gratitude. And it will be on my terms.
I shivered, my knees nearly buckling at the memory of his seductive voice, the scent of his masculine, woodsy cologne, and his touch that ripped every one of my defenses to shreds. How easily I’d nearly succumbed.

Thank God that room had brought me back to reality, I thought, as panic set in. I needed air. Needed to breathe and think, clear of this apartment, where everything reminded me of the Gabe he’d shown me so far. How long before I saw the other side? The way I’d finally seen Lance’s other side?

I patted my pockets, making sure I had my money on me before hitting Lucy’s room to grab my flip-flops, slide them onto my feet, and make my way out the door. As it slammed shut behind me, I realized I was now locked out of the apartment. I had no key to get back in until Gabe returned.

But did I want to go back? To the Gabe who I’d just learned was capable of cutting off his feelings so easily? Because for all that I told myself I didn’t want another relationship, I knew better than to think I could stay here and eventually not surrender to Gabriel Dare.

Chapter Five

Isabelle: Lost in Time

I
spent the day at the public library. Between the Internet and access to the
New York Times
, I began a job search. Although it had been awhile since I’d been employed, I did have a degree from Parsons and a previous employer who’d appreciated my work.

Although I’d definitely call Lisa, my old boss, on Monday, for now, the best I could do was make a list of impressive interior designers. I culled names I’d seen in magazines or had met through people in Lance’s crowd, moving on to magazines and listings there. Finally, there was nothing more I could do until the workweek began.

I bought hotdogs from a street vendor for lunch, picked up a paperback at a nearby bookstore, and settled under a tree to read. Yeah, I know I was supposed to take some time and think, but I didn’t like the way my thoughts were leading me, the yearning to go back to Gabe. How could I be so drawn to a man I didn’t know? And why, oh why did I want to learn more? Getting lost in a book made more sense than racking my brain for answers I just didn’t have.

By four p.m., my stomach was grumbling, I was tired and cranky, and after a day with a book, I’d come to the realization that there was no shame in not having figured out my life’s plan after a mere twenty-four hours. It’s not like I knew ahead of time I would be leaving my home for the unknown. At least now I was in a better position than if I’d woken up at a cheap motel with even less money in my pocket. And I decided I was through running away from my problems. Which meant I’d better head back and deal with the man who was causing the hodgepodge of feelings swirling in my gut.

I walked back to the sprawling apartment building and stopped by the doorman, who was not the same man who’d been on duty last night.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“Is Mr. Dare in?”

“You must be Ms. Masters. He’s been calling down every few minutes asking if you’d returned yet.”

My eyes opened wide. It never dawned on me that Gabe would be concerned. It should have, but I was too thrown by … well, everything. I bit down on my lip. “Please call up and tell him I’m on my way?”

He smiled, treating me to a kindly look that made me think he was a father or a grandfather. Someone who also cared about people. Someone unlike my own parents. And on that unpleasant thought, I headed for the elevator, holding my breath, suddenly nervous.

The elevator doors opened, and I was stunned to find him waiting in the darkened, moody hallway, arm braced on the doorframe. He wore dark jeans and a long-sleeved, collared shirt, white, unbuttoned enough to tempt yet still give him that in-control, dangerously sexy air. His dark brown hair was tousled, as if he’d run his fingers through it in frustration more than a few times.

His eyes lit on me, and in that instant, longing caught in my throat, along with a healthy dose of wariness. Because no matter what I felt when I laid eyes on him, this morning’s hard truths hadn’t changed. And though I’d returned, I needed to understand what was going on between us before I could stay.

I stepped out and paused in front of him.

“You’re okay.” The words came out a mix of anger and relief.

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“And how should I have known? You’ve been gone since early this morning.” He stepped forward then stopped himself, visibly holding himself back from me.

I winced. “I suppose I should have left you a note, but—”

“Yes, you should have.”

I looked down, chastened, hating it and yet … oddly affected by his mix of emotions. Because that meant he still cared? Desired me?

Was that what
I
wanted?