Modern Romance June 2019 Books 5-8. Andie Brock
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rehabilitated her.
But there was no hiding the fact she was a woman, even when she dressed like a man.
He took her to the office with him when they landed in New York. She was still caretaking Mae’s investments and he had some ideas on how to utilize her skills, but he needed to put a few more pieces in place first.
Mostly he brought her with him because he couldn’t stand the idea of leaving her alone in his penthouse all day. Which was all about her, he chided himself. He could have gone those hours without seeing her just fine.
With equal parts curiosity and wariness, she took her cue from his custom-made suit and dressed in flared pants with a matching pinstriped vest over a crisp white shirt with a sharply pointed collar. She twisted her hair up and carried a briefcase that cost as much as the sleek new laptop within it. She rather cheekily pilfered one of his ties and wore it loose enough her collar exposed the hollow in the base of her throat.
She was sexy as hell. If anything, the contrast of authoritative masculine clothes on her nonstop curves made her femininity more obvious. Very much more alluring.
After a week of trying to ignore her round ass in snug khakis and the way perspiration gathered between her breasts in her low, round-necked undershirts, it was taking all his concentration to behave like a civilized man when the territorial beast inside him wanted so badly to mate.
But he couldn’t. He didn’t know how he would keep his control in place, but he would.
They turned heads as he walked her through his top-floor offices.
“That’s the meeting I left when I got your message.” He thumbed toward a glass wall into a boardroom where a dozen faces, stern and concerned and curious, watched them walk past. “Come find me if you need me. I’ll be there for a few hours.”
He continued along to the open door of the office closest to his own.
“Luli, this is Marco.”
“Sir.” The good-looking, well-dressed Latino man stopped typing and stood. He was a little older than Luli and eyed her with sharp interest as he came around to greet them. “Congratulations on your recent marriage, sir. And thank you for the promotion. I appreciate your thinking of me.”
He shook Gabriel’s hand and smiled warmly at Luli as he shook hers. “Mrs. Dean, welcome.”
“Nice to meet you,” Luli murmured shyly, gaze taking in the view of Central Park behind the sleek desk, the mini fridge beneath the bar and the presentation screen over the meeting table with four chairs. “I’ll set up there and check in with Singapore while you’re tied up?” she suggested to Gabriel, nodding at the table.
God, she was adorable.
“Luli, we’ve talked about this,” he admonished sternly, enjoying her discomfiture as she widened her eyes and grew defensive.
“I want to make those transfers we talked about on the plane. You said I should continue doing what I was doing until you made other arrangements.”
“Do your work at your desk. This is your office.” He moved so she could see the plate on the door read Lucrecia Dean. “Marco has everything set up for you. He’s your personal assistant. If you need anything—thumbtacks, dry cleaning, tickets to a Broadway show—he’ll source it. But make sure I’m free to go with you. Sync our calendars,” he told Marco.
“Done, sir.”
“Thank you. Marco speaks Spanish,” Gabriel added to Luli. “It’s one of the reasons I thought he’d be a good fit for you.”
“I barely do,” she admitted sheepishly to Marco. “It’s been such a long time.” She pushed her mouth to the side in a look that was both reproving and rueful as she realized Gabriel had been deliberately teasing her, letting her think Marco was her boss or sitter. “Gracias.”
“De nada. We have plans tonight. Steal a nap on the sofa in my office if you need it.” Unable to resist, he kissed her cheek before he walked out.
* * *
Wear something dramatic, Gabriel had said when he informed her they would attend a black-tie gala benefiting a museum.
The gown Luli chose was made of stretch lace with subtle dragons embroidered into it. It clung to her arms and flared out at the hem to create the impression ink had been poured down her body and splashed out around her feet. It was lined with nude satin so she wore only a peach-colored thong beneath. The plunging neckline didn’t allow for a bra and she applied double-sided tape against her cleavage to avoid a slip.
Her shoes were a glamorous half dozen straps bedecked with rhinestones and a high ankle strap. She straightened her hair to a sleek curtain combed back from her face then drew attention to her eyes with mauve and gold, chartreuse and teal. Her lips received a coat of dark red called Salem.
“Are you trying to kill me?” Gabriel stopped with his drink halfway to his mouth when she appeared.
“Really?” She smiled with shy pleasure and gave him the one-hand-on-her-hip pose. A small weight shift and she changed hands, giving her hair a slow flip along the way, so the curtain gently spilled off the back of her hand. She held her pose, chin high, gaze on the distant future, not a care in the world.
“You’re going to put the entire city in the hospital.” He pretended to take a phone call. “Yeah, that was my wife. I can’t help it if she’s that freaking hot. Get a better power grid because she’s going to keep knocking it out.”
She burst out laughing, flattered, but more bowled over that he would be so silly about it. It helped her relax and pin a smile of lingering humor on her face when they arrived at the chaotic zoo that was the red carpet.
An audible “Whoa...” rose from the crowd. Photographers hurried into position to snap their photo, demanding to know who she was wearing and how was her honeymoon and when had they started dating.
Gabriel drew her inside before she had to answer.
“Are there specific people you need to see tonight?” Luli asked as he handed her a flute of champagne. She wanted to be prepared and help in any way she could, not run away with a case of stage fright this time.
“They’ll come to us,” he said with careless arrogance. His eyes narrowed as she released a small snort. “What?”
“I’m wondering if you ever go to anyone.” After seeing him in several environments now, she was realizing she wasn’t the only one in awe of him. From janitor to pilot to executive to governor, people fell over themselves trying to anticipate his needs.
“Not if I can help it,” he answered unabashedly. “I hate people. I only talk to them if they make me.”
“Hmmph.” She hollowed her cheeks and looked across the crowd.
“You don’t count,” he said.
“Because I’m not a person,” she surmised.
She studied the tiara of a matron who passed them. Luli wore a pair of teardrop diamond earrings Gabriel had given her before they left. She hadn’t wanted to accept them, but he had said they were a loan—unless she decided to keep them. Which she wouldn’t. But she loved them and wished she could.
“Luli.” His tone was apologetic. He touched her arm.
She let him see that she was laughing beneath her mask of affront.
He tsked and sipped, profile filling with self-disgust as he turned his face away.
Why that was funny, she didn’t know, but it was. She laughed with open enjoyment and he looked at her with so much admiration, he melted her bones and made every other part of her sing. He was so handsome, he hurt her eyes. His chiseled face and keen stare, his barely-there hint of a cynical smile, his mussed hair that she wanted to muss even more, lingering over the feel of those fine strands between her fingers...