Her Alpha Avengers [The Hot Millionaires #7] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (6 page)

Gabe shrugged. “Had to put them somewhere. We don’t do untidy.”

“I noticed.” She wrinkled her brow. “That’s a bit unusual for you artistic types, isn’t it? Worrying about something as insignificant as tidiness, I mean.”

“Oh, I’m the biggest slob on the planet, as you’ll see from my studio. It’s the others who like order and method in their lives. Fin, especially, is a bit anal retentive about that sort of thing.”

“Well, I guess when you live with other people you have to make compromises.”

“Exactly.”

She swirled round, taking in the large, bright room with its Bermuda blinds, huge bed, walk-in closet, and spacious en suite. There was also a sitting area with a television and comfortable seating. She found it hard to believe that it would be all hers for a while.

“This would fit twice over in the condo I’ve been living in.”

“Then enjoy.”

“Thanks.” She sat on the edge of the bed and bounced up and down, testing the springs. “I think I will.”

 

* * * *

 

Gabe looked away, surprised at the extent of his desire for her. Women were ten a penny, all keen to have a piece of Gabe, and it was a long time since one had gotten to him in that way that Sabine seemed to have done without even trying. He, Otto, and Fin tended to share a woman if they all liked her, but Sabine wasn’t just any woman. She was a client…well, sort of, and she was also on a mission. Would she want to be distracted? He needed to talk to the others about her, decide if she was off-limits or if they’d make a joint approach.

“Come on, now you get to see the best bit.”

They went up the final staircase, and he opened the door to his studio with a flourish. She stepped into the room that covered the entire top floor, light pouring in through windows on every elevation, and gasped.

“It’s amazing,” she said reverently, laughing at the organized chaos. “I see what you mean about the mess, though.”

“Mess?” Gabe affected surprise. “What mess?”

She walked up to canvases piled on top of one another against the wall. “May I?”

“Be my guest.”

She flipped through them, taking her time as she examined each one. “You really are very talented.”

He shrugged. Praise always embarrassed him. He did what came naturally to him and didn’t think there was anything remarkable about it. “I have my moments.”

“Where did you learn to paint?”

“I guess I’ve always had an aptitude for it. I grew up in Kansas, of all places.”

“That’s in the Midwest, right?” He nodded. “All I know about it is wheat.”

“There’s not much more to know. There was no inspiring scenery, so I had to rely on books to kick-start my imagination.” He shuddered. “My folks were farmers, and I was expected to follow in their footsteps.”

“That would have been such a waste.”

“Yeah, well, hard work robbed them of emotion, and my father thought trying to paint for a living would be a massive waste of time. So, the moment I graduated high school I left and never went back.”

“How did you get ‘discovered’?” She sat cross-legged on the floor, fondling the dog’s ears, all her attention focused on Mulligan. Gabe hardened just by having those remarkable eyes of hers looking at him so intently because she was obviously interested in what he had to say. He hardly ever spoke about his Kansas days. He didn’t want people going out there, digging around, upsetting the order of things. His brothers did quite enough of that without any help from him.

He didn’t hesitate to talk about it to Sabine.

“I got in with a crowd of arty types in Greenwich Village, living in a place worse than your condo and doing whatever needed to be done to earn enough to eat. I wasn’t too fussy what it was so long as it left me with enough time to paint. All sorts of gallery owners prowled round us, looking for new names.” He shrugged. “I guess I got lucky—”

“And I’d say your talent did the talking for you.”

“You know how to stoke a guy’s ego,” he said, flopping down next to her and also fondling the dog. He was a nice enough mutt but wasn’t really what Gabe wanted to stroke. Those pert tits of hers would have made a much better target.
Hell, I need to get laid!

“How did you finish up here with Fin and Otto?”

“Fin bought a couple of my pictures, back in the early days before I became known. When I started to make money, I remembered he was a stockbroker and asked him for advice. We hit it off, and the rest, as they say, is history.”

She seemed satisfied with that and didn’t ask how Otto fit into the equation. “This must be an amazing place to work,” she said instead.

“Which is why I nabbed the whole of this floor.” He chuckled. “Made the guys put the gym in the basement and they agreed, rather than upset my artistic temperament.”

“You have your own gym?” She rolled her eyes. “Why am I not surprised?”

“We like to stay in shape.”

She cast him an amused glance. “Is this where I’m supposed to say that I noticed? If so, don’t hold your breath. I hate being predictable.”

“Will you pose for me?” he asked impulsively.
Whoa, where did that come from?

“Me?” She seemed genuinely surprised by the request. “I’m not beautiful.”

“Beauty’s in the eye of the artist, babe. Besides, if you were ‘perfect,’” he said, making quotation marks round the word
perfect
with his fingers, “then you wouldn’t interest me.”

“Don’t models have to pose nude?”

Gabe chuckled. “Only if they want to.” He ran a hand down her arm. “Would you be comfortable, posing for me naked?”

“Er, I’m not sure. I thought you were joking.”

“I never joke about my art.”

“I’d feel embarrassed with you seeing all my bits and pieces.”

“Being an artist is a bit like being a doctor. A doctor doesn’t see a naked body. He sees a fault in something he specialises in.”

Her eyes flashed with amusement. “Ah, so I’m defective now, am I?”

“More of a challenge.” An idea occurred to him. “But if you’re worried about baring all, why don’t you let me paint you?”

“But that’s what—”

“Your body, I mean. I’ll paint your skin and then transfer that image onto canvas.” He warmed to the idea. “I think it could work.”

“What, you’d use my body as the original canvas?”

He nodded. “It’ll work like a dream. I’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Poking a brush all over my tits.”

“Hmm. Would you trust me?”
Please say yes.

“Let me think about it.”

“Sure.” He helped her to her feet and led the way back downstairs. “Why not grab a shower, and we’ll meet in the kitchen in a bit for brunch.”

“Okay, see you soon. Oh, and Gabe, thanks for the tour, and for the drawing.” She waved the sketch he’d done of her in his direction. “It’s quite something.”

So are you.

“No problem.”

He blew her a kiss and went to look for the others.

 

* * * *

 

They held a council of war in Fin’s office.

“What do you make of her?” Gabe asked.

“I think she’s a babe,” Otto said without hesitation.

“No question,” Fin agreed. “She’s got grit and determination and is sexy as hell, mainly because she doesn’t realize it.”

“Yeah, I hear you.” Gabe nodded decisively. “You think she might play with us?”

It was Otto who answered. “I have a feeling about her. Don’t ask me why, but I sense that she wouldn’t run off into the night screaming with horror if we suggested it. She’s got a sensuality that’s compelling, but she’s preoccupied with this search for Pearson, so she might not want any distractions.”

“That’s quite a speech for you, Otto,” Gabe said, laughing.

“She’s worth speaking about.” He turned toward the door. “Let’s finish this in the kitchen. I need to get brunch going.”

“I agree about her sensuality,” Gabe said as they changed location. “On impulse I asked if she’d pose for me.”

Otto grinned. “What did she say?”

“She asked if that meant she’d need to get naked. I said that was up to her, and she said she’d think about it.”

“There you are, then,” Fin said. “Let’s just see how things develop.”

“Fine by me,” Otto said.

Gabe nodded. “Me, too.”

“Find out anything about Harold Arthur Spalding?” Fin asked Otto.

“He’s a small-time crook with a record for petty larceny. He’s fresh out the joint and didn’t work at the national park. He hasn’t worked anywhere since getting out, as far as I could tell.”

“Just the sort of person to do a job for someone like Pearson,” Fin said. “Anything to suggest that they actually knew each other?”

“I’m still working on it.” Otto cracked eggs into a bowl and beat them vigorously. “But I’m betting there must be a connection.”

“Unless, like you said earlier, Pearson simply had him whacked to pin it on Sabine and get her out of his hair,” Gabe mused.

Otto poured the eggs into a hot pan. “Soon as I know, you will, too.”

The sound of Mulligan’s claws tapping on the stairs warned them that Sabine was on her way down.

“Ah, here she is.”

Fin put an arm round her shoulders and pulled her into the kitchen. She’d changed into a pretty sundress with thin shoulder straps, and her hair was damp from the shower. Damn it, she wasn’t wearing a bra, Gabe realized, suppressing a groan. Her breasts were firm and pert, so she didn’t actually need one, but the outline of large nipples pressing against the thin fabric was something he could do without.

He couldn’t seem to look away.

She smelled of fragrant soap and a perfume Gabe couldn’t put a name to.

“Come on in, sweetheart,” Gabe said. “You must be starving, but I have to warn you that Otto’s today’s chef. Eat his food at your peril.”

She laughed, looking more relaxed in their company than she had so far. “I’ll risk it,” she said, seating herself at the table. “But only because I’m starving.”

Chapter Five

 

“That it?” Otto asked.

“Yes, just about.” Sabine, seated beside Otto in his office, transferred the last of her files to his computer. “That’s everything I’ve managed to amass on Pearson, or whatever his real name is.”

“I haven’t been able to find that out yet. His prints aren’t on file anywhere here in the States.”

Sabine looked at him askance. “You’d know that for a fact, would you?”

Otto winked at her. “I have my sources.”

“Oh, I thought you were joking.”

“Not that it really matters what his real name is because he never seems to use it. It’s just that we might be able to get some background on him if we knew where he came from.”

“Well, he’s definitely English, and it’s a pretty safe bet that his initials are RP.” Sabine wrinkled her brow. “Not that that’s much help.”

“You never know.” Otto scanned the content of the files she’d just sent him. “You’ve got a lot of stuff here.”

Sabine shifted her position, as though praise embarrassed her. “I’ve been motivated.”

Otto chuckled. “That bit I got.”

“What will you do with all this?”

“I’ll run a programme to see if you have any stuff that overlaps with what I have. That might give us a place to start looking.”

She raised a brow. “You can do that?”

“Sure.” He patted his computer. “These guys do whatever I ask them to.”

“I’m impressed.”

Otto was acutely aware of her slim thigh almost touching his beneath the desk. Was it his imagination or had it gotten closer? Her perfume swamped his senses, and he scooted his chair forward so that the desk hid his groin. She’d probably laugh herself silly at his lack of control if she glanced down and saw that he was rock hard. He was thirty-three, for God’s sake, not seventeen.

Her gaze roved over his array of electronic tools. “I can see that you’re a bit of a gadget freak,” she said with a soft laugh.

“It’s what pays the rent, babe.”

“Talking of rent, how come the three of you live the bachelor life here? I’d say you’re all in your thirties.” Otto nodded. “And none of you have been snapped up by a woman yet? How come?”

Sabine had broached the one subject guaranteed to subdue his tumescence. “I was married in a previous life.” Otto kept his gaze focused on the screen in front of him. “It didn’t work out.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried.”

“It’s okay, it’s water under the bridge.” It was so long since Otto had talked about that unpleasant phase of his life that it was almost cathartic. “We met in college.”

“Where was that?”

“Here in South Florida.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize that you were a native Floridian.”

“Born and bred. My folks are in a retirement place in Naples. Anyway, I thought Cindy, my wife, was the love of my life. I majored in communication technology, and Cindy wanted me to take one of the many offers that came my way from the big conglomerates.”

Other books

A Christmas Bride by Jo Ann Ferguson
The Ten Thousand by Michael Curtis Ford
The Book of Joby by Ferrari, Mark J.
Once an Outlaw by Jill Gregory
Nothing Like Love by Abigail Strom
Canes of Divergence by Breeana Puttroff
The Beholder by Connie Hall


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024