Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
OLIVIA
G abriel hadn’t been lying. By the time that evening rolled around, the walk-in closet was filled with more designer-label clothes than I could wear in a year, let alone three months.
On top of all the pants and shirts and dresses, there were sweaters and jackets—things that would never see the light of day in a New York summer.
And the shoes.
So many shoes. All of them heels—the tall, towering kind I’d only seen on supermodels and drag queens. God only knew what Gabriel had been thinking when he’d told his personal shopper to go out and buy the highest stilettos she could find.
Maybe he thought if I didn’t have a pair of sneakers, I wouldn’t be able to run away.
I wouldn’t put it past him.
Apparently, just thinking about Gabriel seemed to summon him. I’d only been in the closet for a minute, looking over the massive haul, when I heard him clear his throat behind me.
Even though the sound had come from inside the closet door, I didn’t dare look over at him.
I wasn’t about to make that mistake again.
The first thing I’d done when he’d returned to the bedroom from talking to his brother was to lift my head and look him straight in those dark, bottomless eyes. Despite the solid hour I must have spent in that chair, berating myself for my body’s reaction to him and swearing that I wouldn’t fall into that trap again, the instant he was in front of me, all those embarrassingly hot feelings bubbled right back up inside me.
I’d done a relatively decent job of tamping them back down again, but only by making a concerted effort to keep my head tucked, my mouth shut, and my hands to myself. It had made for a dead boring afternoon, but I figured that was better than a shamelessly embarrassing one.
“So, what do you think?” Gabriel asked after a few seconds of strained silence had passed between us.
“The same thing I thought this afternoon,” I answered honestly. “That it’s way too much, and you wasted your money.”
“That’s not your concern,” he said, his voice coming closer with every word until the next ones sounded like they were coming from right behind me. “It’s my money to waste.”
Oh, really? Angry heat—the kind that had nothing to do with the closeness of his body—flared up in my cheeks.
Bite your tongue, I silently warned myself. Remember what happened the last time you talked back? Bite your tongue. Bite your?—
“So it’s okay for you to blow a small fortune on designer clothes for a hostage, but?—“
“We’ve been over this, Liv,” he said. “You’re not a hostage.”
Urg. At least now, I knew better than to try and argue semantics with him.
“Fine…for an unwilling guest.” Since he was still firmly behind me, I gave in to the temptation to roll my eyes. “How’s that?”
He answered with a dark and mocking laugh. “You can pretend to be unwilling if it soothes your pride, but we both know that’s not the whole truth.”
Yeah, I went ahead and ignored that, steamrolling right ahead.
“My point is that if I’m here to settle a debt, it doesn’t make much sense for you to spend loads of unnecessary money on me.”
“You think I should dress you in rags?” My whole body stiffened as he lifted a hand and traced the back of his fingers down my upper arm, trying to subdue the shiver of excitement his touch fired off inside me. “…Or maybe nothing at all?”
I shook my head. What I wanted were my own damn clothes, but I didn’t dare bring that up again. I was barely holding it together after a touch on the arm. There was no way I could withstand him pushing me against the wall again.
“There is a middle ground between the two extremes, you know,” I told him.
“Not with you, there isn’t,” he whispered, tantalizingly close to my ear. “As far as I’m concerned, with you, it’s all or nothing.”
Somehow, I got the feeling he wasn’t simply talking about clothes anymore. Not that I was about to ask for clarification.
“All I’m saying is that I don’t understand your rationale for spending what had to be a small fortune on someone who will only be with you for the summer.”
“And I don’t understand why you care,” he said, still just as close.
“I don’t.” And I didn’t. I really, really didn’t. “I’m just curious, that’s all.”
“Oh, I see. You’re curious .” There was a mocking quality to his voice as he traced his fingers back up my arm. “Then let me satisfy that curiosity.”
Shit. Did he have to purr that word right against my ear? The low, rough sound made me want to lean back against his chest and allow the heat of his body to soften every muscle in my body.
“I bought these clothes because I wanted to,” he said. “That’s the only reason I need to do anything. But you still don’t get that, do you, dolcezza ?”
Pulling his hand away from my arm, he reached over my shoulder to pull one of the hangers off the rod. A shimmering silver dress with a plunging neckline hung from the silk-covered arms. He pressed it against my chest, matching the straps to the fall of my shoulders and letting the hem brush against my thighs.
“I want to see you dressed like this,” he said, pulling the fabric tight against my waist…and my back against his chest in the process. I bit into my lower lip, desperate to swallow down the moan that threatened to sneak out at the sudden contact. “And when others see you, I want them to know that you’re mine. All mine.”
I closed my eyes and tried to slow my breathing, but it wasn’t any use. My heart kept right on pounding like a jackhammer against my breastbone. There was no disguising the effect his touch had on me.
Apparently, all Gabriel had to do was whisper a few rumbly words against my ear, and I melted like a piece of chocolate on a warm day.
“Besides, I can always just add the cost of your wardrobe to the money your brother owes me.”
And just like that, all the tension rushed back into my body. My eyes popped open, and without thinking, I spun around in his arms.
“What money?” I demanded. Immediately, abandoning the promise I’d made to myself, my gaze locked with his. “We made a deal. I stay with you for three months, and you forgive my brother’s debt.”
“That wasn’t the deal.” A wicked smile curled his lips, and I couldn’t help thinking it wasn’t fair for someone so evil to look so damn good. “I only agreed to forgive your brother, not his debt.”
“No. No, no, no.” I shook my head vehemently. “Don’t play this bullshit semantics game with me. What the hell were you forgiving if not his debt?”
“Well, Theo’s not currently dead, is he?”
“ Currently ?” I didn’t think it was possible, but somehow, my eyes stretched even wider. “You mean you’re still planning on killing him?”
“Only if, after ninety days, he still hasn’t paid what he owes me.”
My stomach dropped. I’d seen the numbers. I knew the truth. Short of selling the whole business, there was no way Theo could come up with that kind of cash. And even if he did find someone willing to buy a tiny, failing liquor distribution company, it would still take time for the deal to go through, and for any of that money to become liquid, and?—
“And what if I stayed with you past the ninety days?” I asked in desperation. “Would you give him more time?”
Gabriel laughed. “A minute ago, you were an ‘unwilling guest.’ Now, you’re practically begging me to stay. Which is it?”
“Answer my question first.”
His brows arched at my demand.
Something told me he wasn’t used to hearing many of those. Honestly, I was more than a little surprised that I had the guts to talk that way myself. But what choice did I have? His little game had me backed into a corner.
“How about we see how our first night together goes before we start on the renegotiation process?” he said.
Even though he’d phrased it as a question, I knew he wasn’t looking for an answer. He’d made his decision, and all I could do was snap my mouth closed, nod, and try again another time.
“Good,” he continued, as if everything was settled and fine, before holding out the silver dress. “Then put this on and get ready to go out. We’ll leave in twenty minutes.”
Leave ? Twenty minutes ?
What the hell was happening? He’d gone from seductive to combative to dismissive all in the blink of an eye.
Or had he?
Now that I thought about it, Gabriel’s tone had stayed surprisingly consistent throughout our conversation.
My reactions to him, on the other hand, were all over the map. His touch made me feel one way, his words another. And I was completely clueless about how to deal with my own guilt and shame. Maybe after a few days, I’d get used to these wild emotional shifts, but right now, I was giving myself whiplash.
“Where are we going?” I asked as he turned around and started walking away from me.
“I already told you,” he said without stopping or turning around. He didn’t even bother to slow down. He just strode right out of the closet. “Out.”
I wanted to howl in frustration at his condescending answer. I wanted to scream or punch a wall. Maybe throw one of these priceless-looking vases against the floor just to have the satisfaction of watching it explode into a thousand pieces. But none of that would do a damn bit of good.
Besides, Gabriel’s threats of an eye for an eye were still echoing in my head. I wasn’t in any rush to see how he would balance the scoresheets if I lashed out in violence.
So instead, I turned to my old friend sarcasm, balling my fists at my sides as I called out, “Yes, your majesty. Your wish is my fucking command.”
“Good job, dolcezza .” His laugh drifted in the closet from far away—all the way from the bedroom, if I had to guess. “Now you’re finally starting to understand how the game is played.”