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Another tendril of her gorgeous hair has escaped her updo and curls against her cheek. I’ve never seen anything so lovely. This gorgeous woman, battling her own demons, dressed to perfection, wearing my coat, is slowly unraveling before my eyes.
My cock strains against the confines of my pants. Thank goodness for old lightbulbs and black fabric. I should not love the way my coat swallows her or look forward to how her scent will cling to it tomorrow. I shouldn’t be enjoying anything about this insane night.
“Can you believe they left all these linens?” She holds out what appears to be a sheet. It’s neatly folded and fancy-looking.
“We can’t stay here,” Gabe says, suddenly coming to life beside me.
Katherine’s hands freeze, and she blinks at us. I see the doubt filling her as fast as a firehose would fill a bathtub. She’s so used to being snapped at and ordered around by her family, expecting a shoe to drop. I’ve seen them in action, and I fucking hate it. I hate every single person who has ever diminished her shine.
“I mean, it’s not ready. There’s nowhere to sleep. This isn’t what I was expecting when I suggested we come here.” I’ve never heard Gabe sound quite so unsure before. Almost defeated.
And I hate that anyone would try to take advantage of him. He’s a grown man, but sometimes I still remember him as the quietly arrogant kid I met almost twenty years ago, so out of his element.
To her credit, the heiress takes his words in stride. Which is somehow both surprising and not. This situation isn’t what any of us expected. It’s like finding yourself on a roller coaster with no end in sight.
My phone began buzzing before I got Katherine into the car and it hasn’t stopped since.
My assistant.
PR.
A bunch of numbers I don’t recognize.
An old client I haven’t talked to in three years.
According to my tech team, someone took a video of the auction, and it’s burning like wildfire across social media.
But I’ll worry about that tomorrow. Right now, Gabe’s spiraling, and Katherine’s swaying in those crazy high heels.
Her brows lift. “It’s not a big deal, Gabriel. There’s a mattress. And sheets. Even pillows.” She holds one to her chest, fingertips playing with the lacey trim.
“You’re kidding,” he says. He stares at her for a long moment as if waiting for her to shout Gotcha! Then he barks to me, “Call the chopper back.”
Katherine makes her selections, then steps forward, pressing the lot into my hands. “Don’t call the chopper back.”
“You’ve roughed it? The Park Avenue princess?”
Oh, hell, Gabe. Way to throw gasoline on a fire.
Katherine bristles. Her spine literally straightens, and she pulls her shoulders down and back.
“My father and brother like camping.”
Gabe grunts. “And you couldn’t be left out. That it?”
She stares at him again, and I wonder if she sees the wounded little boy that I do. But how could she? There’s no way Katherine Montgomery knows about the hostility Gabe grew up with. How his perfectly average parents hated having a brainiac son. How they had no idea what to do with him and never missed an opportunity to try to dumb him down.
“Are you going to kick me out?” she asks, her voice softer and decidedly less challenging. Her head is tilted slightly to the side as she watches him closely.
“No.” His answer is swift, almost vehement. As if the idea had never occurred to him.
She nods, taking a deep breath. Still wearing my coat, she steps forward and plucks the fitted sheet from my hands. After a couple of quick snaps to fluff it out, she walks to the mattress, her nose scrunching as she tucks in the corners.
“There’s one more problem, Princess,” Gabe says.
“What’s that?” She straightens and glares at him head-on. There’s enough tension crackling between the two of them to catch the dunes on fire.
“There’s only one bed.”
