Managed:a VIP novel(24)

A snort of annoyance leaves him. "Fine." He walks briskly toward me, and  I stiffen, but he turns, opens the laptop, and with a few hard clicks,  pulls up a file. "Here," he says, turning the screen my way. "My health  report. Or did you think I was exempt?"

"Honestly, I did." I can't help it. I read. So sue me, it's right there  in front of me, and he saw mine. I now know he's six foot three, one  hundred and eighty-five pounds when last weighed, and in perfect health.  "Why do you do this?"

"Insurance, in some instances. And it's a safety precaution. If you're  going to work for the biggest band in the world, we're going to know all  we can about you." His gaze clashes with mine. "I won't apologize for  it, if that's what you want."

"No," I shut the laptop. "I just got a little freaked, okay? Is this why  you brought me here? You can see I'm not a criminal, or in debt." Shut  up, Soph. You're babbling like a freak. "And no cooties to speak of."

Gabriel's lids lower, and the look he gives me is calculating. "No cooties at all," he agrees.

I flush, thinking of how we could fuck hard and fast without fear of any  consequences. And just maybe he's thinking the same thing.

Only he abruptly stands and walks to a bar across from the door. "Would you like a drink?"

"No tea?" I'm nervous now that I know this isn't about firing me.

He glances over his shoulder at me. "Would you like some?"

"No." I need something stronger. "Bourbon?"

With a nod of approval, he pours us both a good helping. I don't miss  the way his hand trembles just once as he passes me the glass. He gives  me a tight smile and takes the seat across from me.

The coach is absolutely silent as we sip our bourbon and watch each  other warily. He still hasn't told me anything, and I'm pretty sure I  just made a fool of myself. So, yeah.         

     



 

Gabriel expels a soft sigh and gently sets his glass on a small, chrome  table. The click of glass to metal is like a gunshot to my overtaxed  nerves.

"I can't sleep," he tells me with a small, self-deprecating shake of his  head. I stare at him, unable to respond, and he meets my eyes. "Not a  fucking wink."

"I'm sorry," I whisper. I empathize. I can't sleep either. I've become  some mental princess and the pea. My bed is too hard, the pillow too  soft. I toss and turn, my eyes wide open. I'm either too cold or too  hot. It's a freaking nightmare. And I think way too much about a certain  grumpy man who currently sits in front of me, looking a bit like  sleep-deprived death warmed over.

His smile is brief and weak. "I slept that night." Blue eyes meet mine. "When it rained."

Something hot and strong rushes through my limbs. I slept then too. So  well. All warm and snug, wrapped up in strong arms. Sometimes, when I'm  really weak, I close my eyes and try to remember the exact feeling of  Gabriel's hard body behind mine. Try to recall his exact scent. If I'm  lucky, I drift off to sleep thinking of that night.

He thinks of that night too. I might turn into a puddle of mush. I manage to keep still, though.

Gabriel leans forward, bracing his forearms on his bent knees. "I want to hire you."

My mushy feels solidify a bit. That wasn't what I expected. I take a  hasty sip of bourbon and lick my dry lips. "I'm …  Okay, I'm not  following."

A dull flush washes over the high crests of his cheeks. "I want you to sleep with me."

"Uh … what?" I can't form better words.

"Just sleep," he clarifies quickly. "I … bloody hell … I sleep when you're  there. I have to sleep." For a second, he looks so weak, the circles  under his eyes deeper and bruised. So weary. "You can stay here, travel  with me. The compensation will be-"

"Sunshine," I cut in. "Are you seriously trying to pay me to sleep in a bed with you every night?"

And holy hell, if his tense, straining body language is anything to go  by, he wants this badly. I'm so shocked I have to take another sip of my  drink. God, the idea is tempting. But dangerous. He hasn't said,  "Sophie, I want you and can't live another night without you." He's  trying to hire me, for fuck's sake.

He sits straight, his jaw clenched. "Look, I know it's ridiculous."

"It is," I agree, heartily.

His expression goes blank. "You're right."

He moves to rise, and I reach out, laying my hand on his stiff forearm.  "It is ridiculous because you don't have to pay me for that."

If anything, he looks even more put out. "Yes, I do. This isn't …  If I  don't pay … " He shakes his head with an exasperated breath. "It isn't  right not to pay."

My fingers curl around the hard muscle of his arm. "Do you need this?"

He pulls at his cuff. "The fact that I'm humiliating myself ought to tell you as much."

I give him a watery smile. "All I'm trying to say is, even if you don't  consider me a friend, I consider you one. I help my friends. And it  wouldn't be right for me to take money from a friend. Besides, you're  offering to let me stay here. This is flat-out luxurious compared to  being cramped in with five other people."

His expression is so perplexed, my heart hurts for him.

"You'll do it?" he asks.

That's what I just said, wasn't it? I didn't even think it over, just  blurted out my answer. I should be thinking this over. How am I supposed  to live with this man? I'm attracted to him-total understatement. And  he expects me to sleep next to him every night? Torture. And yet so very  appealing. I want this. For reasons best ignored. Focus on the now.  I've always operated on instinct. It has yet to fail me. And my  instincts had me agreeing from the start. I'm not going back on that.

Gabriel sits quietly, fidgeting with his cuffs, though clearly trying  not to. The man has the most ferocious scowl, and I've never seen grumpy  look so hot. Inappropriate visions of a naughty schoolgirl and the  punishing headmaster fill my head. Down, girl.

He makes a noise of impatience mixed with self-disgust. "I apologize for  putting you in an awkward position. It was badly done. Let me walk you  back-"

"Show me the bedroom."

He blinks at me as if I've spoken in a language he can't understand.

I start walking to the back of the bus, kicking off my shoes as I go. He  watches me the way someone might track a stray raccoon who's found its  way inside. But I notice he stands as well, slowly following.         

     



 

The bedroom is as gorgeous as the living area. With the glossy, mellow  wood paneling, it's cozy and warm. His bed is a king, taking up most of  the space. I crawl onto it, sinking into the cream-satin covers.

Gabriel stands at the threshold, his gaze darting from me to the space  beside me. I lay on my side, resting my head on my hand. This isn't  going to be easy. Stretched out on his bed, with him looking on, this  feels like something more.

It feels like seduction. I've never been good at lying to myself,  either. I want his weight on me, the solid strength of his muscles  shifting and bunching as he moves between my legs. I want that heat, to  feel his cock sliding thick and wide into my empty, aching sex.

But he didn't ask for that. And the fact that he needs me for something  non-sexual means something to me. I'm not just a pair of tits and ass  for him to get off on. He could get that anywhere. We both know it. He  needs me for this.

I let my head fall to the pillows. "Don't leave me hanging, sunshine."

"It's … " He glances at his watch. "Ten-fifteen in the morning."

"And I'm tired. I need a nap."

I really do. I hadn't realized how very exhausted I am until I said it out loud.

A calculating gleam enters his eyes. My nipples pulse in response. Damn.

Slowly, he takes off his jacket, the move pure suit porn. He takes his  time, hangs it up, slips off his shoes, and removes his cufflinks.  Muscles strain against his fine, white shirt. I watch him with a lazy  sort of attention. The intimacy of his action soothes in a strange way,  and my lids grow heavy.

He pauses at the edge of the bed. "Every night?" It's a husky rasp, with more yearning than I think he realizes.

Soft warmth blooms in my heart. "Naps too, if you want them."

His gaze is liquid heat. "I want them."

He crawls onto the bed. The wary, hesitant man is gone. Gabriel moves  with grace, nearly prowling, hot eyes on me, his body coming flush with  mine. I start to pant as he deftly rolls me to face the wall and curls  himself around me, pressing my back to his front. He does it all as if  he's had this planned in his head for some time, as if he's been  thinking in great detail about what he'd do with me once in his bed.

His arm wraps around my middle, snaking up between my breasts before I  can even blink. He cups my shoulder, holding me close-snuggling me.

I tremor, a swarm of bees bumping around in my belly. This feels too  good. My skin is burning, my heart racing. He has to notice. I feel the  rapid thud of his heart against my shoulder blades and know he's  agitated too.