Dare to Surrender (7 page)

But first, he could focus on something as simple as dinner. His housekeeper left him with enough home-cooked meals that he had his choice, but tonight he wanted to cook more than frozen and microwaved food.

While Izzy showered, Gabe pulled out two steaks from the freezer, defrosted them, and soon had them cooking on his Thermador indoor grill. Lucy had insisted his kitchen be decorated with only the best, and over time, he’d come to appreciate cooking for himself once in awhile. Looking after Isabelle was a pleasure he’d never thought he’d have.

He microwaved baking potatoes and set the table for two, even impressing himself with his speed. She seemed to take her time in the shower, and he hoped she was relaxing and not working herself into a panicked, frenzied need to leave.

He’d just pulled the steaks from the grill when the doorbell rang, surprising him. He answered it, not at all happy to find his brother on the other side.

Decklan stepped inside without Gabe’s invitation, took a deep inhale, and grinned. “Smells like I’m just in time for supper.”

“The hell you are. You’re leaving.”

His brother shot him a knowing look. “That answers question number one. She’s still here.”

Gabe nodded. “Yes, she is, and I intend for her to remain. So leave before you scare her away. She’s not too fond of you, as I recall.”

Decklan shook his head. “That’s why I come bearing gifts.” He held up a plain brown bag branded with the local pharmacy on the front.

“Gabe?” Izzy’s voice called to him from the bedrooms.

“Be right there!” Gabe turned back to his brother. “I don’t know what you’ve got in that bag, but take it and go home.” He wanted Izzy to himself over dinner. Time to explore her past, present, likes, and dislikes and to let her get to know him.

Before Decklan could answer, Gabe became aware of a soft, feminine scent.

“I didn’t know you were expecting company.” Isabelle joined them, wearing another of Lucy’s outfits, sweats that were again snug, emphasizing every inch of her delectable—
not model-thin, thank God
—body. She glanced at Decklan, her eyes opening in surprise. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Don’t sound so happy to see me,” his brother said, his tone filled with more amusement than when he’d been dealing with her last night.

“You were rude to me,” she informed him in a haughty tone, nose in the air.

Gabe barked out a laugh.

“You were under arrest!” Decklan shot back.

“Bogus charges.” She folded her arms across her chest and glared.

Gabe looked at his brother and grinned. “Guess she doesn’t want you here any more than I do right now.”

Decklan didn’t seem bothered. “Not even if I have something for you?” Focused on Isabelle, he held up the bag.

Now he had Gabe wondering what the hell was in it that had his always-serious brother sounding so proud of himself.

Isabelle cocked an eyebrow and stepped forward. Gabe’s gaze fell to her bare feet and hot pink toenails. Damn, he’d like to suck each one slowly, nibbling, and listen to her moan as he worked his way upward—

“Let me see.” Her voice broke Gabe’s daydream.

Decklan handed her the bag, and Isabelle snatched it away, peering inside. Her eyes widened, and she stared at him, open-mouthed. “You… I… This is actually
thoughtful
!”

Gabe was torn between laughing at the notion that she didn’t think his brother had thoughtful in him and jealous that she now stared at Decklan with a newfound respect.

“Thank you, Ms. Masters. Don’t I get at least a peck on the cheek for the effort?” he asked.

A pink blush stole up Izzy’s cheeks. Gabe wanted to be the only one responsible for putting that flush on her face.

She stepped forward, and Gabe growled. Literally growled. “Go home, Decklan. Izzy and I have plans.”

“Don’t be rude! He came all the way over here to give me—”

Gabe grabbed the bag and looked inside. “Tums? He gave you Tums, and you’re gushing all over him?”

Decklan burst out laughing while Izzy stood between them, obviously confused at Gabe’s possessive behavior. Gabe didn’t understand it either. He only knew that until he and Izzy had something solid, no other man was getting between them. His brother and his dime-store gifts included.

“I actually have to be going. I have a date,” Decklan said, clearly holding back his amusement. “I just figured, based on my brother’s behavior last night, he wanted to keep you, and I’d best bring by a peace offering.” He shrugged. “Considering what I just witnessed, nothing’s changed, so I’ll be seeing you around here, Isabelle. Assuming he doesn’t drive you away with his jealousy first.”

“Go home,” Gabe muttered, embarrassed at being caught acting like an ass by the only man in this world he could actually trust around his woman.

Decklan turned to go. Gabe figured he’d make things right with his sibling tomorrow.

“Wait,” Izzy said, stopping Decklan’s retreat.

His brother glanced back at her.

“Peace offering accepted,” she said with a grateful smile on her beautiful face, leaving Gabe with the thought that if a bottle of Tums turned her into a beaming angel, he couldn’t wait to bestow more intimate, unexpected presents on his favorite girl.

Chapter Seven

Isabelle: Clarity

I
was ravenous and devoured the most delicious steak, well aware of Gabe’s eyes on me the whole time. We sat in a small breakfast nook in the kitchen, eating on a white and beige granite tabletop. Gabe pulled his seat close to mine, and though I should’ve been uncomfortable, I wasn’t because I was too amused by what had gone down between Gabe and Decklan over me.

Me.

“What’s so funny?” Gabe asked me, wiping his mouth with a napkin before placing it back in his lap.

“I can’t say I’ve ever been the object of a pissing contest before.”

He leaned on one arm. “Can’t say I’ve engaged in one before either.”

I had a difficult time believing him. “No big blocks of real estate you’ve wanted? No club takeovers?”

“I was talking about women.” He paused. “You saw the bedroom.”

No need for me to ask which one.

He rubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw, obviously considering what to say next, and a gnawing ache ate at my stomach as I waited for him to continue.

“That room has been the extent of my dealings with women for more years than I can remember.” He steepled his fingers and stared at me for a long while before finally speaking. “I normally don’t bring women to my bed, but I don’t want to be in their space either.”

“Too intimate?” I asked him, leaning back in my seat, as if I had no problem with his women or his habits.

“Much.” Those dark eyes probed into mine.

“That’s sad,” I said, rising to my feet. I picked up my dish, then his, intending to clean up the meal.

He clamped his hand on my wrist. “Leave it.”

“You cooked, I’ll clean.”

He didn’t release me, his grip tightening. “It can wait. Amelia will be in tomorrow.”

I shook my head in automatic denial. “I don’t want to make extra work for her. I can—”

“But you won’t.” His voice brooked no argument.

I shook my hand free. “Mind if I ask why not?”

“I work too hard to make the life of those I care about easy, and I pay those who work for me too much for you to worry about it.”

“Oh.” I tried to see his point of view, but I’d grown up in an average house, where I was expected to take care of chores and help with daily tasks.

Even Lance, who brought in help for parties and had a cleaning service in weekly, had expected me to handle the everyday duties of running a house. But that wasn’t the only thing about Gabe’s proclamation that stood out.
I work too hard to make the life of those I care about easy
. I could understand him feeling that way about himself. His sister when she stayed over. Even his brother, when they weren’t bickering.

But me? How had I become one of those he cared about in such a short span of time?
Don’t you care about him
? a small voice in the back of my head asked.

I wanted to concentrate on understanding him. “Let me get this straight. You don’t bring women into your bed. You don’t go to their homes, hence the extra bedroom.”

He inclined his head in agreement but remained silent, giving me a chance to formulate my next question, which I knew he wouldn’t like, but I intended to ask it anyway.

“You’ve made it clear you want to … fuck me…”

Gabe’s irises darkened to a stormy hue. “I do want—and plan—to fuck you.”

I’d chosen to repeat his word, a term I’d never used before.

At least not in a context relating to me and any man I’d ever been intimate with. Not that there’d been many. And I didn’t appreciate the fact that my body didn’t seem to care whether I used the word
fuck
,
sex
, or
making love
—all of those terms, when spoken in reference to myself and Gabe, turned my insides to mush and dampened the tiny g-string panties I’d been forced to borrow from the drawer in the bedroom.

“Your point, kitten?” His lean, chiseled body shook with barely leashed power and the restraint it took for him not to touch me.

I could see it. Feel it. I wanted him too, but I needed clarity more.

I rocked on my bare feet. “My point being, I’m in the room next to yours… Is that because the
other
room hasn’t been cleaned?” I wrinkled my nose, unable to control the disdain in my tone.

He clenched his jaw tight, and his gaze slid away.

Right. I wrapped my arms around myself.

“It’s not like I thought it out. And it’s not like I had to since there was only that one room available.”

I nodded. “Okay.” It made sense. Hurt on some stupid level, but made sense.

He clenched his jaw. “Are you finished?” he asked, clearly unhappy with the direction of my thoughts.

I shook my head. No, I was not finished, and he was about to get more upset because I had questions that demanded answers. He’d told me Naomi didn’t mean much to him, but that could have been something he’d said to appease me.

I cleared my throat and forged ahead. “Was Naomi ever one of those people you care about, and whose life you wanted to make easy?” Before she’d stopped and he’d tossed her away.

Had he selected her, and those before me, used them, made their lives easy, and disposed of them when he was finished? When someone new and more appealing came along? Like Lance had done with me, except he hadn’t had the decency to end things before starting up with someone else.

I figured I should at least know who and what kind of man Gabriel Dare really was.

You already know
.

I ignored the voice in my head, the one filled with hopes and dreams that never came true but caused much damage in the pursuit.

Gabe lifted my chin, a favorite habit of his, forcing me to meet his gaze. To look into his handsome face, both rugged and chiseled to perfection at the same time.

“I told you before, and I’ll say it again, clearer this time. Naomi provided an outlet. Other women provided me with the same thing. A release and nothing more. And that’s the last time I want to hear you put yourself in the same category as any one of them ever again.”

My knees nearly buckled in relief, and how ridiculous was that? This man affected me on such a deep level that my emotions, which I’d promised to tuck safely away, were already engaged. It made no sense. And it frightened me beyond reason.

So I kept pushing, hoping with answers would come clarity. “But there was someone once. Another woman. A stray that your brother mentioned.”

A muscle ticked in his cheek. “I’m a man of few words, and you’ve exhausted those tonight.” His hand slid from my chin to cup my jaw. “I will say it’s in the past.”

“Good enough.”

A smile teased his mouth.

“For now,” I added, lest he think I gave up easily.

A low growl emanated from inside him. Next thing I knew, he lifted me into his arms and carried me out of the kitchen, through the entryway, and toward the two bedrooms in the back of the apartment.

“Gabe, wait!”

He paused at the end of the long hall. “This is the only time you get a choice,” he said, his voice gruff.

My answer depended on which door he carried me through, but I couldn’t give voice to the question, which would only reveal a need for more than sex, one that, though I’d alluded to it, I didn’t want him to see so blatantly on display.

“Time’s up,” he said and kicked open
his
bedroom door.

*     *     *

Isabelle: Behind the Chosen Door

Gabe slid me down the length of his body, and I responded with liquid heat to every hard inch I touched.

A soft moan reverberated around us, and I was shocked to realize it had come from me.

“Clothes off,” Gabe said, sounding like a man very much in control.

My eyes opened wide at the command.

I was curvier than the women he dated, had compared myself more than once at the country club, yet I followed his instruction to the letter, pulling on the drawstring, releasing the sweatpants so they pooled at my feet. I shook them off. Tee shirt came next, up, over my head, and onto the floor.