No Apologies (4 page)

And, she admitted with some difficulty as she took the left onto Harbor Island, she was too wound up to hit the clubs just yet anyway. In the mood she was in, she might end up doing something stupid just to prove a point.

So she drove—for hours—before she ended up at her favorite spot along the ocean, watching waves that had originated thousands of miles away roll in over and over again. Reminding herself how inconsequential her little problems were in the grand scheme of things and that she should be grateful for every day, and everything, that she had. Eight years wasn’t so long that she had forgotten what it was like to wake up so emotionally devastated that she couldn’t get out of bed until she’d worked out a suicide plan.

Dawn was slowly streaking the sky when she finally made it home. Carrying her precious Jimmy Choos in one hand—the beach had left her feet wet and sandy--she limped up the staircase to her apartment. All she wanted was a long shower and some sleep. She’d call Gabe later, much later, as she wasn’t in the mood to have the argument she knew they were due for after she’d deliberately stood him up.

Lost in thought and drooping from exhaustion, she flipped on her apartment light and let out a startled scream. Gabe was stretched out on her sunny yellow sofa, his shoes off and his eyes blazing with anger and something else that looked a lot like disgust.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded. “How did you get in?”

“Iris took pity on me and let me in, after watching me sit in the hall for two hours waiting for you.” His eyes were dark and dangerous, his full lips compressed into a thin, grim line. “Where the hell have you been?”

Closing her eyes, Annalise nearly swayed with exhaustion. She didn’t have the energy for this, didn’t have the strength right now to keep up the party girl facade she’d spent so damn long cultivating. But when she opened her eyes again, none of the misery she’d combated on the beach showed.

“Out.”

“Yeah, I got that impression.” He stalked toward her, a gorgeous tiger of a man—all long limbs and careless grace. Intense eyes and bared teeth. A low growl rumbled from his chest, making her eyes widen and her heart beat faster.

Standing her ground in the face of his aggressiveness was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. But Annalise planted her bare feet and refused to budge, even when he got so close that she could feel his breath on her forehead.

“Where have you been, Annalise?” He repeated the question, his voice lower than she’d ever heard it, and a shiver of unease—and God help her, arousal—shot up her spine before she could stop it,

Angry with him, furious with herself, she ignored his unspoken warning. “That’s really none of your business. I went out, had some fun and now I’m home and ready to sleep.” She gave him her most disdainful look and started past him. She’d almost made it to her bedroom door when he grabbed her wrist and spun her around, pressing her against the living room wall.

His pelvis pushed insistently against hers and his hand rested at the base of her throat. Neither was anywhere close to painful, but the inherent threat was enough to stiffen her spine and harden her voice. “Let me go.”

“Did you fuck him?” Those sorcerer’s eyes blazed angrily, even while his lips hovered just a hair’s breadth above her own.

“What do you care?” she tossed back. “As long as I fuck you too?”

The hand near her throat tightened warningly, though his grip remained painless. “Did you let that fucking waiter touch you? Put his hands on you? Put his cock in you?” His breath was coming in short pants. “Or was it someone else?”

She shoved against him, but it was like trying to push a mountain—his muscles were like granite under her hands. “Let me go!” she demanded loudly, her voice rising despite her best efforts to keep it even.

“Not until you tell me, damn it. Who was it?”

“Gabe—”

He shook her then, not hard enough to do any damage, just enough to get her attention. “Tell me.” He was wild, out-of-control, his possessive instincts dangerously aroused.

She wanted to lie because it was easier. Wanted to tell the truth, though he would never believe her. But when she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out. She shook her head, shrugged, looked down at the thick, cream-colored carpet beneath her feet.

“Damn it, Lissy, just tell me.” The rage was gone and in its place was a sad acceptance she’d never seen from him before.

Her resolve broke at the sadness in his voice and at the sound of her nickname on those beloved lips—he was the only man to ever care enough to give her a nickname. Unless “Oh yeah, baby, do it again” counted.

“I was driving, Gabe. Just driving. Sorting some stuff out in my head.” She gestured to her sand-covered feet. “I ended up at that spot in Coronado we found a couple of months ago.”

He let out a long, shaky breath, his dark skin paling considerably. But those watchful eyes continued to study her for a moment before closing as he sagged in relief. He bent his head, rested it in the curve between her neck and her shoulder, and she was shocked to realize he was trembling.

“Gabe?” Her arms came up and wrapped around him before she could stop herself. “What’s wrong, sugar?” Her lips grazed his ear. “Why are you acting like this?”

He shook his head, took a couple of deep, steadying breaths before stepping away from her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” He gestured at the wall before shoving his hands in his pockets and turning away.

“Shouldn’t have what?” she asked. Suddenly the tables were turned and it was she following him around the apartment.

He whirled to face her, somehow even paler than before. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I—” His voice trailed off.

“You didn’t.” Her voice was clear. “If you had, you wouldn’t still be standing here.”

Those black-magic eyes studied her for a moment, looking for the woman behind the mask, searching for the soul she didn’t know she still had. And then he said, simply, “I love you, Annalise.”

Chapter Four

She stared at him wide-eyed, feeling like she’d just been run over by an eighteen-wheeler. “Gabe—”

“I know.” He nodded at her skeptical look. “I really do. I didn’t mean to, I did everything I could to avoid it, but it’s true. Somehow, despite my worst intentions, I fell in love with you.”

Annalise shook her head, backed away. She didn’t do love. Not now, not anymore. “I—”

His smile was sad. “I know. I shouldn’t have said anything. I never meant to tell you.”

“Gabe—” She was beginning to sound like a broken record, but she had no idea what to say. He’d completely blindsided her.

He grabbed his keys off her coffee table before leaning down and brushing a kiss against her cheek. “Get some sleep. I’ll call you in a couple of days.”

A couple of days? He was going to drop a bombshell like that on her and then leave—for a couple of days? Was he insane?

“Don’t go.” It was ripped from her just as he turned the doorknob.

Gabe stiffened, then turned to face her. “I don’t want or need your pity, Annalise.”

“I know.” She stared him directly in the eye, her gaze rock-steady though her stomach pitched sickly. “I want you to stay.” She reached for him. “Please stay.”

He studied her from across the room, his eyes hopeful but his mouth grim. “I don’t think that’s a good idea until you figure out what you want.

“I don’t know what I want. I don’t know how I feel.” She swallowed. “All I know is that I don’t want you to go tonight.” She glanced outside at the blossoming daylight. “This morning. Whatever.”

“That’s more than I expected,” he murmured, striding across the room and yanking her into his arms. Then his mouth was devouring hers, his tongue teasing and tasting, thrusting and stroking, until her eyes crossed and her knees turned to jelly. He tasted like he always did—like rain and the ocean and a raging inferno that burned her alive. But he tasted sweet, too. The mixture of the familiar and the new nearly drove her over the edge.

Her hands reached up and tangled in the thin silk of his dress shirt. She needed him inside of her, needed the long moments of oblivion he always provided. Just a little while where she wouldn’t have to think.

Her hands slid down his arms to cup his ass as she pressed firmly against him. Gabe moaned low in his throat, his hands pulling her even closer into the shelter of his body.

She loved the feel of him, the hardness of his muscles, the roughness of his hands, the surprising softness of his skin everywhere else. Breaking away from his kiss, her fingers scrambled frantically at the buttons of his shirt.

But he stilled her, his hands finding hers, his thumb stroking the urgency from her fingers. “Let me take care of you this time,” he murmured, guiding her slowly backward toward her bedroom.

Tears stung her eyes, but she batted them determinedly away. This was no different than all the other times, she told herself. It was just sex. Just scratching an itch.

But as he lowered her to the bed, she knew better. This was everything she’d run from for eight long years, everything she’d hidden from in the arms of friends and strangers alike. She knew she should protest, that she should push him away. But she simply didn’t have the energy to do so. Or the heart. For once, she wanted to let a man make love to her. To love her. Only her.

Gabe stretched out beside her, elbow bent, head resting on his upturned palm as he studied her. Those wonderful eyes had gone completely black, an intense heat burning deep inside of them. His desire was palpable and a shiver of excitement skittered up her spine. She licked her lips, and even she didn’t know if she did it to be provocative or because it was suddenly necessary.

“I need you.” His voice was soft, seductive. A silken whisper stroking along her skin. A velvet caress igniting every nerve ending in her body. “I need all of you.”

“Yes.” It was a whisper, as confusion and excitement surged through her with every breath. His face was serious, focused exclusively on her. His body was hard, completely unyielding against the softness of her own. But it was his eyes, so full of hunger and desire and need for her—and her alone—that made her pulse quicken and her inner thighs grow wet. It was that hunger that also began the slow, inexorable task of melting the first of the many layers of ice she’d built around her heart.

He reached out, cupped her breast in his strong hands. Let his thumb run in light, seductive circles over the already aroused nipple. Annalise arched against his hand, increasing the pressure, and she could have sworn she heard electricity crackle around them. That one simple touch seared through her, through veins and muscles and organs until she began to fear spontaneous combustion.

She moaned low in her throat and reached for Gabe, pulling him over her, onto her, wanting to feel every inch of his body pressed against every inch of hers. He stared at her out of eyes burning with need, studied her, watched her, waited for her.

Cupping his face in her hands, she looked deep into his eyes. “Please.” She arched her back, spread her legs, tugged at him until his cock was pressed against her. “I need you. Please.”

She saw the moment he slipped the restraints he’d placed on himself, saw lust, raw and needy, explode within him at her words. Grasping the front of her dress in his strong hands, he shredded it from neckline to hem with one downward tug. She gasped as the cool air hit her hot body, arching her back, and he took one of her ripe, raspberry-colored nipples in his mouth.