Yours for the Night (27 page)

She ran a bath in the huge tub and soaked with the fragrant salts provided. Dreamily she imagined him with her, what she’d do to him, what she’d have him do to her. She lay back, a hand between her legs in an idle stroke. She didn’t 168

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want to come, just heighten the desire. Then, finally, she took care of all the necessary womanly activities. Everything was in the prep. The short black velvet dress he’d chosen caressed her bare skin as she slipped it over her head. The cut was low, with a squared neckline revealing her breasts almost to her nipples. The sleeves were long, thank God, keeping her warm. The dress was smooth over her abdomen, then the skirt flared, reaching to her knees, and he’d given her black thigh-highs and a lacy thong to wear beneath. Balancing one foot on the edge of the tub, she fastened the silver anklet. Instead of jewels, he’d opted for tiny bells. “So I can hear you coming,”

he’d whispered in her ear.

The double entendre heated her through.

He’d finished her off with high-heeled strappy sandals. Standing before the mirror, twisting from side to side, she glowed with how perfect the outfit was. Red hair, green eyes, and all black.

He was already in the living room and looking luscious in a black tux and charcoal shirt.

“Do you ever wear anything besides black?” she asked.

“Black is easy: I always match.” Then he raised one brow devilishly. “And I match you perfectly.”

He didn’t say she looked gorgeous, but his eyes followed the length of the dress all the way to the fuck-me high heels and back up, sweeping her breasts and nipples, then rising to her face. “I was remiss in not getting you a necklace.”

Then he held out a matching velvet cape. “You’re going to need this.”

That look of his made her tremble as she wrapped herself in the luxury.

“Where are we going?”

He shook a finger. “It’s a surprise.”

God, she wanted his surprise. Badly.

She wanted so badly, she was in danger of paying him to give her what she craved.

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9

HALF AN HOUR LATER, THEY PULLED INTO THE LOT AT THE BASE of one of the area’s largest mountains. Rising like a behemoth, it blended into the night sky behind a low-slung building.

“They’re open after dark?” She’d been to Palm Springs before, but never taken the tram to the top.

“They’re open to us,” he said, climbing out and coming around to her door. The night air bit into her cheeks as she stepped out. She pulled the velvet cape close. The building was empty, with few lights gleaming. Gabriel rapped on the glass door. An elderly man unlocked and let them in, then led them to the tram.

She gazed at Gabriel in awe. “You rented this just for us?”

“You challenged me. Our date had to be spectacular.”

No man—not Edward, not a client—had ever done anything like this for her. What was Gabriel trying to prove? All he had to do was pay her what she was worth and she’d sleep with him.

The tram car itself had a heater, yet once they were in and the door closed, Gabriel moved close behind her and wrapped her in his arms. Framed in the building’s window, the elderly gentleman tapped a few controls, and the car pulled away, rotating slowly as they rose above the valley floor.

“It rotates three hundred sixty degrees,” Gabriel said at her ear. “You won’t see as much at night, except the lights.”

The lights of Palm Springs and the surrounding towns looked like a thick carpet of bright stars. Far out they ended and gave way to another rise of mountains silhouetted in the distance. Dark against darker, then above, the twinkle of real stars.

“It’s gorgeous,” she whispered as the tram car turned slowly, revealing more lights, more city, more mountain.

“Yes.” He leaned over her shoulder, his cheek close to hers as he nuzzled her hair. “You smell like grapefruit.”

She laughed. “I found grapefruit bath salts by the tub.”

He tightened his arm beneath her breasts, easing her ever closer against the bulge of his cock at the small of her back.

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He licked the nape of her neck. “It tastes good, too.”

She felt so warm, so mesmerized by the slow turn of the car, his heat surrounding her, his scent, something subtly spicy with a hint of musk. And the soft kiss of his lips against her neck.

“I bet you taste like this everywhere.” He caressed her belly, then made a brief foray between her legs.

She thought her knees would collapse. They might have if she hadn’t been leaning against him. God, she needed sex, she needed him. Her body moistened, readying her. Her mouth watered, anticipating the salty deliciousness of his cock.

“You’re trying to seduce me,” she murmured as the car turned slowly away from the light, into the darkness of the mountain.

“Is it working?”

She laughed softly. God yes. “I once heard someone say that oral sex wasn’t sex.” She turned in his arms, setting her hands on his shoulders. “It might have been an ex-president.”

“Then it definitely must be true.” He leaned back far enough for her to see the sparkle of stars in his eyes. “Does that mean it’s okay for me to bury my face in your hot pussy?”

His dirty talk excited her, the thrill of it pebbling her nipples. “It means that as long as I don’t swallow, I can suck.”

Against her, his cock surged. She rubbed him with her abdomen. He clamped his hand on her butt and rocked harder. “I’m okay if you don’t swallow.”

“Okay” wasn’t good enough. She waited for him to beg.

“But you want to swallow all of me, don’t you?” More sparkle in his eyes. The car revolved, the lights now appearing behind him, and his gaze became a dark pool of desire.

“I can take it or leave it,” she lied. She wanted his taste on her lips, her tongue, sliding down her throat, filling her. “But only if I don’t ruin my lipstick.”

He took her mouth in a hard kiss, licking, sucking, going deep, backing off, taking her again. Until she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop wanting. The car jerked to a stop as they docked at the top. If the ride had lasted five more minutes, they would have arrived with her down on her knees, his cock in her mouth, and she damn well wouldn’t have cared who saw.

The man was too potent.

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The bells on her anklet jingled as Gabriel guided her from the tram, past a young man who’d been handling the controls. Gabriel smiled and handed the boy a bill just as he had the older guy manning the control box at the bottom.

“Up the stairs, sir,” the kid said. “The observation deck is pretty much freezing right now, but you can see virtually the same view from the restaurant.”

The lights were low, perhaps only a quarter of the normal number lit, as Gabriel ushered her to the top of the stairs and pushed through a set of glass doors to the outside.

The wind blasted them, the cold bite of mountain air tearing through her velvet. Gabriel pulled her to the railing, then cocooned her with his body heat as he had on the tram. “Isn’t it the most magnificent sight you’ve ever seen?”

The wind roared so loudly, he had to yell, and yet it was beautiful, the lights across the valley floor, then the darkness of the mountains opposite. The puniness of man’s creations against the vast awesomeness of nature. She felt small against it, yet special in Gabriel’s embrace. His touch transformed the sight from simply beautiful to absolutely spectacular. Tears stung her eyes from the brutal cold whipping past them. Yet for this moment, there was nowhere else she wanted to be, wrapped in Gabriel’s strength and warmth, safe.

Then he pulled her back inside. The howl of the wind still rung in her ears. Gabriel traced a finger beneath her eyes, gathering the moisture. “You had to feel it, you had to see it.”

She had to feel him, see him. The view was immense, but Gabriel was here and now, bigger and better. “I have to fix my lipstick,” she said because she was afraid anything else might reveal the feelings that had swamped her out on the observation deck.

He took her hand. “Your lipstick is perfect.”

She knew it wasn’t, but she let him guide her along the hall, a row of floor lights leading the way, moonlight falling through the windows. Up another flight of steps, they entered the restaurant, where again, the lights were low, candles on the tables bathing everything with an intimate glow. An unobtrusive piano instrumental filled the room from hidden speakers. Gabriel led her to a table at the bank of windows overlooking the city lights and pulled out a seat for her. Taking her cloak, he laid it across a chair back behind them. Then he sat beside her, facing the glorious view without the wind biting 172

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through their clothing. Champagne chilled in a bucket. French bread and salad had already been laid out, a silver dish brimming with dressing. She didn’t see the waitstaff but they were obviously there somewhere. With only the candle sending flickers of light across the table, their reflections in the window didn’t obscure the vista beyond the glass. “You thought of everything.”

He smiled. “Best date ever?”

“Fishing for compliments?”

“Just wanting to know if you’re ready to beg.”

She couldn’t help the laugh escaping. “I’ll never beg.” Never say never. “I didn’t say you had to give me the best date. I just said you had to show me the proper appreciation.”

Tilting the glass, he poured her champagne without foaming it over.

“Appreciation isn’t about money or gifts. It’s treating you the way you deserve to be treated.”

Edward had money; she hadn’t lacked for comfort. Yet every present he gave her was ordered by his secretary, every vacation she arranged herself. And on a beach in Hawaii, he was on the phone conducting business. Even during sex, she felt as if he were thinking about what stock he’d purchase as soon as the market opened. Maybe that’s why she’d been so vanilla. She hadn’t once seen Gabriel’s phone since the taxi had picked him up at his home this morning for the ride to the airport. He tapped his champagne to her flute. “Drink.” Sipping, he watched her over the rim of his glass.

She was afraid to ask why he thought she was worth being treated this way.

“I was the best man at a friend’s wedding right out of college.”

She spooned a creamy dressing on her salad as he talked.

“His fiancée wanted a massive engagement ring that cost fifteen thousand dollars.”

“Fifteen isn’t much.” She raised her hand in question, and he indicated for her to drizzle dressing over his salad, too.

“It’s a helluva lot if you’re fresh out of college, starting your first job, and you haven’t got a trust fund to live on.”

“Did you have a trust fund?” The salad was a mixture of bitter greens, sweet mandarins, and Italian spices.

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“No.” Flat tone, steady gaze. She’d already pegged him for a self-made man.

“Back then, fifteen thousand was a down payment on a modest starter home in the East Bay, but she believed the cost of the ring showed how much he appreciated what he was getting in a wife.”

Dominique didn’t miss his emphasis on appreciated. “Did he buy her the house later?”

“Yeah.” He speared his salad, but didn’t raise the fork. “Then she divorced him because he wasn’t making enough money, and took the house, the car, and the kids.”

She tipped her head to eye him. “And the moral of the story is that a greedy woman ends up screwing you over?”

He laughed from deep in his belly. “The moral is that money doesn’t buy happiness.”

She smiled with him. “You’re trying to weasel out of paying.”

His gaze turned serious, and he put a finger to her chin to hold her. “Maybe you’re worth more than trinkets and cash. Maybe I’d like to find out how much more.”

She trembled beneath his touch. She’d had more than enough men in the past few months, received a veritable fortune by some standards, yet somehow, she still hadn’t proven to herself that she deserved more than being divorced for a younger woman.

Gabriel gave her more worth than mere money.

Behind them, the subtle sounds of pots and china underscored the gentle instrumental through the speakers. Instead of answering him, Dominique tasted a mandarin spiked with the Italian dressing.

It was the bastard husband that had done this to her. Gabriel would have liked to beat the man senseless. On the one hand, she was gorgeous and confident. But beneath that lay the need to be shown. A tangible demonstration. Still, he wanted to taste her and take her without the transaction between them. He wanted Dominique as a woman, not an object he had to buy. The dress, cape, and lingerie, even the jewelry—they weren’t payment. He’d simply picked out what she would be wearing when he buried himself deep inside her. He’d remove the panties, but the rest would remain.

“Are you done with your salads, sir?”

Gabriel hadn’t heard the waiter approach, nor had he realized their plates 174

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were almost empty. Too much damn thinking instead of doing. In the tram car, he’d almost had her on her knees with her luscious lips around his cock. He wasn’t taking proper advantage of his opportunities.

“I’m finished,” Dominique said, leaning back slightly so the waiter could whisk away the plate.

He was barely beyond his teens, blond, tanned, and lusty, his eyes drinking in Dominique’s cleavage. She didn’t glance up or she would have seen. She was a beautiful woman who attracted men young and old. She didn’t need paying clients to keep proving it to her.

Alone with her once again, Gabriel ran a finger along the edge of her bodice, skimming her breasts, easing close to her nipples. She grabbed his hand and shot a look behind them, to the dark recesses of the restaurant and the door through which their server had disappeared. “What are you doing?”

He removed her grip, then deliberately pushed the material lower to reveal a touch of nipple, the beads already peaked. “He was looking. I made it easier for him.”

She tugged the dress higher. “He’s just a boy.”

“I liked watching him try to sneak a peek.”

She huffed, but candlelight sparkled in her eyes. “That’s naughty.”