Chapter Eight
Gabe
I have to reestablish space between us, be a professional…fuck, why is she so damn gorgeous?- Gabe
There’s a part of me that is so damn angry I can’t think straight. But there’s an even bigger part that’s just happy she’s okay. I cradle her in my arms like the precious cargo she is until we get to the car.
Her driver, Frederick, holds open the door for us. “She okay?” he asks in a deep, concerned voice. He pulls his cap over his grey hair and gives her a long look. Her face is hidden in my chest.
“She’ll be fine. Just take us to the airport.”
He nods and walks around to get into the driver’s side.
Something I’ve found out since I’ve been working for Gemma is that everyone that works for her loves her.
They genuinely care for her because she genuinely cares for them.
For instance, she knows the name of all six of Frederick’s grandchildren.
He’s been her driver since her first album went platinum, five years ago.
I don’t let go of her as I slide into the car. I hold her in my lap and then press the button to hide us from Frederick’s gaze.
“Princess, did anyone touch you in there? Did anyone bother you?” My gut swirls with an intensity of anger that scares even me.
She should never have to worry about her safety, especially not since I’m her protector.
How the hell could I have let her disappear like that?
I knew that she was starting to get antsy, that it was getting harder and harder for her to feel guarded twenty-four hours a day.
She pulls back from me and looks up at me with tears in her blue eyes.
“I’m okay. No one bothered me. It just hit me all at once.
I shouldn’t have left. It was so damn stupid.
” She catches her lower lip between her teeth and something within me aches.
“He could have found me. He could have taken me. I just…I just…wasn’t thinking straight.
My feelings are so…” she seems to struggle with her words and then finally gives up.
She shrugs. “I can’t tell you,” she whispers softly.
I stroke a finger along her cheek, and she leans into the touch. “You can tell me anything.” I sigh. “I should be pissed as hell at you for leaving, but I just can’t be. Tell me how you feel, baby.” The word baby slips out, but nothing within me wants to take away the endearment.
She kisses the palm of my hand and the feeling of want that crashes over me is impossible to deny. My cock stirs and I have to remind myself that this is my client, this is my job. I can’t look at her any other way. But I’m afraid that ship may already have sailed.
“I just needed to get away. I needed to not feel like I was under a microscope for five minutes.” She leans further back and starts pulling off the wig she’s wearing.
Her makeup is smudged all to hell but she still looks beautiful to me.
Wig or not, I would have known who she was in any crowd.
I’m surprised other people didn’t recognize her.
“I think I needed to get away from you too.”
My gut twists. “Away from me?” I ask in a stricken voice. “I’m just trying to protect you, Gemma. I never wanted you to hate me. I don’t hate you.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t hate you. I never hated you. That’s the problem. I want…”
She bites her lower lip again.
“What do you want, Gemma? What do you want more than anything?” My voice is husky as I run my thumb over her bruised lip.
“I just want you.”