“Ms. Baird, why are you staring at me as if I’m killing baby kittens?”
10
HALF-NAKED T-REX AND ICE CREAM (SADLY NOT AT THE SAME TIME)
HE REALLY SHOULD STOP doing that to his pretty little admin, Gabriel thought with an inward grin. Every time he caught Charlotte staring at him, she turned bright red and couldn’t speak for at least a minute. He didn’t mind the red—it made him wonder if she blushed all over her body—but he minded the way she still went mute around him every so often. Usually, it was simply because he’d inadvertently startled her, but sometimes, he scented fear and it pissed him off.
Gabriel didn’t hurt women, had never hurt women. Hell, even his piss-poor excuse for a biological father wasn’t violent. Brian Bishop might have used his wife like she was an automatic teller machine, but he’d never lifted a hand to any of his family.
That was the only good thing Gabriel could say about the man.
Charlotte hadn’t been so lucky. Someone had brutalized her to the point that the scars lingered deep within; he’d like to get his hands around the neck of the fucking bastard, give him a taste of his own medicine. One day, when she trusted him enough, she’d tell him, and he’d make sure she had no reason to fear her abuser again.
“You should appreciate your food. Someone put a lot of time and effort into it.”
He was so surprised at the feminine rebuke that he leaned back and looked at her. Breaking the eye contact almost at once, she focused on her own meal. He watched the fork travel through her lips and thought about that pretty, pretty mouth on his cock, her tongue licking along the vein that ran along the bottom.
Christ. Wrenching his mind off that particular trajectory before it became rigidly obvious what he wanted to do to her, no doubt terrifying her into running, he started eating again. “I appreciate food when I have the time,” he said, considering once again how to take this to the next level. Charlotte had finally stopped jumping when he was nearby, and today, she’d shown more than a hint of temper. He wasn’t about to allow that progress to stall. “We might have time for a proper meal together in Rotorua next week.”
Her eyes flicked up at the mention of the city famous for its high geothermal activity, complete with geysers and bubbling mud pools. “Rotorua?”
“Uh-huh.” Glancing over her shoulder, he said, “Come in, Finley. Ms. Baird and I were just finishing dinner.” He picked up the printout he’d edited earlier, as Charlotte put down her fork and closed the lid on her empty container.
Handing the pages to her, he said, “Can you input these changes tonight?”
“Yes, of course. Would you like me here for the meeting at ten?”
He took a second to run through the details in his head. The call was scheduled so late because of the time difference with London, home of the man with whom Gabriel was doing a deal critical for Saxon & Archer’s future growth. “Yes,” he said, “I might need you.”
Glancing at his watch, he saw it was almost eight. “If you like, you can go home for an hour and a half after you finish the edits, get back here ten minutes before the meeting.”
Nodding, she left, closing the door behind her, and Finley took her place. Whereupon Gabriel looked the man in the eye and said, “Would you care to explain to me why there’s a hundred thousand dollars missing from the operating budget for your department?”
CHARLOTTE DIDN’T GO HOME as Gabriel had suggested. Instead, putting on her coat, she took a walk down to the waterfront, the city streets vibrant with life despite the winter chill, the sea wind refreshing against her skin. Leaning against the railings by the ferry terminal, she watched the ferries come in and thought about how many ice creams she and Molly had shared on the nearby steps.
She missed her best friend each and every day, but she was fiercely happy that Molly had made the brave decision to fight for her dream and moved to LA. They still spoke or e-mailed every day, and Charlotte had no fear that would ever change. No matter if Molly was now with one of the biggest rock stars on the planet, she was still Molly, still Charlotte’s sister of the heart.
One who’d sent her a message two days ago that said:
Fox told me today that the band decided to get their own private jet. Yes, my jaw fell too. But apparently it’s a good investment—and the best news is that you can fly in style when you visit. I can’t wait until you can take a vacation and come over so I can show you LA!
Has T-Rex fired you this week? Or has he been behaving? Tell me all! I get suspicious when you go quiet on the subject of Mr. Tall, Dark, and Carnivorous. Oh, hope the fancy cake you wanted to make came out okay. I miss your baking, especially those chocolate chip cupcakes with orange cream frosting.