Make Me, Sir

Chapter Twenty-four

After church, Gabi changed into jeans and a green peasant top and stayed in her room, trying to regain her equilibrium. Besides, it gave her a chance to play with her bored cats. Being shut up in the bedroom annoyed the hell out of them. “Soon, guys. Tomorrow we leave.” And I’ll be back with my friends. Will have lots to do.

When she felt poised again, she walked out to the great room. Only ten o’clock and the morning had already got off to a rocky start. Dressed appropriately in a demure dress, heels, and hose despite the heat, she’d attended church service with her parents, hoping to please them. Major mistake.

When they’d introduced her around afterward, their oh-so-polite friends couldn’t look away from the ugly marks and yellowing bruises on her face. Since the news had reported only a shoot-out at the Clearwater Docks, Gabi couldn’t explain her battered appearance, and everyone plainly assumed she had an abusive boyfriend. Her parents had grown more and more distant. Oh look, Gabi, you’ve embarrassed them again.

One more day and then home.

Finding her parents in the room, discussing the sermon, Gabi stopped in the doorway. “I’m going to make some coffee. Anyone want one?”

“I’d like a latte,” her mother said. “Thank you, Gabrielle.”

Gabi had just finished making the coffee when the doorbell rang. Great. More stuffy, parental friends. Well, she’d hand off the latte and retreat back to her room. She carried the two cups out of the kitchen as her mother entered the great room, followed by Marcus.

Marcus? Here? Not in the club? Here. Her brain shut down as if someone had flipped a switch.

He walked up to her. “Easy, sugar.” He carefully took the two cups from her before she spilled them on her mother’s white carpet, then set them on the coffee table.

“Do you remember Marcus Atherton, Gabrielle?” her mother asked, giving his dark gray suit an approving look. When Gabi didn’t answer, she added, “He says you met on a special assignment in Tampa.”

“Um. Yes, I remember him.” What is he doing here? Her chest hurt as if her heart had shriveled and died. She glanced at the hallway that led to her bedroom and escape, but Mother would be horrified. No hope for it; she had to act politely.

She dropped down on the couch, ignoring her mother’s wince at her lack of grace. “What brings you to Orlando, Marcus?” And how did you find out my location? Didn’t you get my letter?

Walking right past an empty chair, he joined her on the couch, sitting close enough she could feel the warmth of his thigh against hers-close enough to make it obvious they were more than just friends. Her mother’s eyebrows rose.

“I came over to take you out for lunch, sugar.” He took her hand, then smiled at her parents. “I do apologize for the discourtesy of calling unannounced.”

Gabi tried to pull her hand away without her parents noticing, and amusement lit his eyes. She glowered at him. “Didn’t you see Vance and Galen?”

His grip flexed in a way that reminded her of how incongruously strong he was. “I did. They gave me your note and told me how much you looked forward to seeing me again.”

They did not. They wouldn’t. Would they? She remembered Galen’s expression when she’d said she didn’t want to talk to Marcus. “He deserves more than that,” he’d said.

This isn’t fair.

Marcus watched his little sub’s face flush a vivid pink. The big brown eyes had lit with joy when she’d seen him and now shot sparks at him. Smothering a laugh, he turned back to her parents. How had such a cold couple created someone as bright and warm as Gabi? He knew others like the Renards; his old law firm had been filled with their type. He hadn’t realized how much he’d enjoyed being away from pompous assholes until now.

He studied Gabi for a moment, having to suppress his rage at the sight of the bruising on her forehead, her cheek, her jaw. Her mangled wrists-he’d have to avoid hurting them. Yet just the sight of her filled him with pleasure.

“Mr. Renard.” He stood to shake hands with her father. “I believe someone said you work for Thompson and Dunn? In law?”

The man’s chest puffed slightly. “I specialize in corporate law, yes.”

“An intriguing field.” Marcus smiled and added, “I’m an assistant district attorney in Tampa.”

“Why how nice,” her mother said. The approving look Gabi got from her parents warmed Marcus’s heart and probably shot his chances with her to hell. “Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Atherton?”

“No. But thank you.” He smiled. “I didn’t mean to disturb your morning.” As he watched Gabi’s parents, their body language and expressions, Marcus could clearly see their attitude toward their daughter, that of two snooty Siamese cats faced with a bouncy puppy. His heart broke for her. As warm and perceptive as Gabi was… Had they been as disapproving of her when she’d been a child? No wonder she’d run away. He’d have joined her.

After today, if she still considered him anything like her father, Marcus would paddle her ass.

“We’d be pleased to have you join us for lunch here,” Mrs. Renard said.

“He can’t stay,” Gabi announced, her voice deliberately rude. She frowned at him. “I’m afraid I’m occupied today, Marcus. It’s a shame you didn’t call before you wasted your time.”

Her mother gasped, and her father’s face turned flat.

Marcus laughed. There she is, my little brat. Now to show her that her behavior wouldn’t drive him away. “You can spit at me all you want, darlin’,” he said, cupping her cheek and forcing her to meet his eyes. “Do bear in mind I deal with drug dealers, murderers-and worst of all, cops, every day. I doubt that you can shock me with your behavior.”

“You don’t want-”

“I do want.” He took her hand, moved his grip to her undamaged forearm to remind her who was in charge, and pulled her to her feet. “I appreciate you letting me interrupt your morning, ma’am, sir.” Without releasing Gabi-she’d make a run for it, he knew-he politely shook hands with her stunned father.

Then he simply dragged his insubordinate sub out of her parents’ house.

She tried to rebel again when he opened the car door for her. “Listen, this is not-I don’t want-”

“Gabrielle.” He cupped her cheek and looked down into her velvety brown eyes. “Get. In. The. Car.”

Gabi scrubbed her hands on her jeans and tried to show an impassive face as Marcus drove through the city. Didn’t he understand this wouldn’t work? Was he like some…some predator that gave chase if their prey ran from them?

“If you keep all those thoughts inside, your brain will explode,” he said lazily. He steered the car to the curb and took her hand in his. “We can discuss this right now, or we can wait until after lunch and then have at it. Your only choice is when.”

God, why did the determination in his deep voice turn her insides to liquid? She swallowed, wishing she saw a future for them. But look at him. In a suit, as always.

Then again, the way he’d acted at her parents’ house… He’d been rude to them. That wasn’t like him at all. I’m so confused. “Later. Please.”

“All right, darlin’.” He brushed her lips with a soft kiss, leaving her longing for more. After pulling a cell phone from his suit, he punched a number and a second later said, “We should get there in about thirty minutes.” The cell went back into his pocket.

“Who was that?”

“I thought since I’ve met your family today, you should meet mine. My grandparents will join us.”

What? She looked at her jeans and peasant top in horror, then stared at him. “Marcus, I’m not dressed for a nice restaurant.” Dear God, is he insane?

His lips quirked. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or insult. You didn’t worry about your appearance when you thought it was only me for lunch.”

Her mouth dropped open. She hadn’t, had she? “Ah…”

“You no longer think I’ll judge you by what you wear. We’re making progress, I do believe.” He tugged at the puffy sleeve of her top, the elastic letting him pull it down to expose her shoulder. He kissed the bare skin and murmured, “As it happens, I rather like this top.”

Great, her clothing was not only too casual, but the kind he’d want to play with. She pulled her sleeve up.

He pulled it down.

She was doomed.

He was still smiling ten minutes later when he turned his car into a drive. She frowned at the sign. “We’re going to the Animal Kingdom?” Mr. Suit and Disney?

“Are you allowed to live in Florida if you don’t like Disney?” He chuckled at the amazed look she gave him. At a guard station, he slowed to give his name and was waved on.

Not long afterward, Gabi stared in wonder as they walked through the African-themed lobby of the Kidani Lodge and down a spiral staircase to the Sanaa Restaurant. Hanging baskets mingled with pottery-jar lamps. Colorful cloth hangings and beaded mosaics decorated the walls. Tree branches seemed to dissolve into the thatched ceiling. She stopped to stare. “This is amazing.”

He smiled. “Wait until you see the view from the windows.” After slinging his gym bag over his shoulder, Marcus set his hand low on her back, guiding her toward a table where an older couple sat. His grandparents. In tan slacks and a short-sleeved shirt, the silver-haired man had keen eyes with a sunburst of wrinkles at the corners, a Roman nose, and a stern jaw. He rose as they approached.

“Gabrielle, this is my grandfather, Ben Atherton, and my grandmother, Abby.” His grandmother had tousled white curls, softly wrinkled skin, and an infectious smile.

Marcus kissed Gabi’s fingertips and finished, “And here is my very reluctant girlfriend, Gabi Renard.”

Reluctant. She would kill him…somehow…the minute they were alone. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Gramps,” Marcus said, “her father is William Renard, a lawyer with Thompson and Dunn International. You might have met him.”

Ben’s bushy brows drew together. “I’ve made his acquaintance, although I don’t recall having him in front of my bench.”

Marcus closed his hand around Gabi’s and murmured, “He doesn’t always sound like it, but Gramps was a judge before he retired.”

I complain about lawyers, so I get to eat lunch with a judge? This so isn’t fair.

“Very into rules and regulations. Pretty narrow-minded, I thought.” Ben tilted his head at Gabi and gave a considering look. “If what my grandson says about you is true, I bet you had him fit to be tied, young lady.”

Her mouth dropped for a second before she recovered. “Yes, I’m afraid I did.”

“Please sit, everyone,” Abby said.

Marcus seated Gabi and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be right back, sugar. I want to change.”

And the bastard abandoned her without looking back.

After a quick change of clothing in the restroom, Marcus strode into the restaurant. When he saw Gramps sitting alone, he froze, then spotted Gabi at one of the giant windows with his grandmother. The two appeared mesmerized by the giraffe striding past. He let out a sigh of relief, realizing he’d been worried the little sub would flee.

When Marcus sat down, his grandfather glanced at the two women a few feet away. “She’s polite, but she doesn’t intimidate worth a damn. I do believe I like her.”

Marcus snorted. “You would. Unfortunately, the problem is getting her to stay. She thinks I’m the same type as her parents, and you’re right about his personality. Her mother is worse.”

Gramps’s mouth flattened into a line. “Renard is a pompous bastard and wound up tighter than an eight-day clock. You’re nothing alike, son.”

“Hopefully I can keep her around long enough to realize it.”

“We ordered for you, by the way. Your young lady has an adventurous spirit, at least in foods.”

The bread sampler had arrived before the two women returned to the table, laughing and chatting easily. Nana could put anyone at ease, and Marcus smiled. He kept realizing how much Gabi was like her.

His sub’s eyes widened when she saw him. What? Oh, the clothes. After she sat down beside him, he leaned over to murmur into her ear, “I spend most of my time in jeans, sugar. Sorry to disappoint you.”

She grinned. “You’re trying to destroy all my illusions, aren’t you?” She lowered her voice, “By the way, you have a fine ass. Sir.”

He choked. And hardened instantly. He gave her a “you will pay” stare, and she actually giggled.

When he looked up, Nana beamed at him in obvious approval. Well then. Now to win over his grandfather. If his grandparents approved, so would the rest of the Atherton clan. Marcus leaned back in his chair and smiled at Gabi. He’d bet her previous Christmases had been formal, cold affairs. Dignified. When he took her to his parents’ home in rural Georgia, she was in for a shock.

“I’ve been admiring your hair, Gabi,” Nana said. “As it happens, I’m thinking of putting a few pink or green streaks in mine just to shock the ladies in my bridge club.”

Marcus’s mouth dropped open, and Gramps sputtered like a badly tuned engine.

“I think you’d shock more than just the ladies.” Snickering at the men, Gabi fingered the blue strand in her hair. “You’re braver than I am-I never planned to do something quite so permanent.”

He’d thought she’d done it as a show of defiance-although the blue was rather odd, considering how she liked coordinating colors. “So why did you?”

“My job has unexpected…benefits.” She gave him a rueful look. “I went to see a teenager who’d had a…bad experience, but she refused to talk with me. Wanted me to leave. But then she said she’d planned to dye her hair.” Gabi’s eyes darkened. “It’s a girl thing, trying to change ourselves as if we can change our lives too.”

Marcus took her hand. He’d have to ask someday how she’d changed herself as a teenager.

“Anyway, I volunteered to help, and halfway through, I got enthused. When I smeared blue on my hair, well, she started to laugh and…” When Gabi’s fingers tightened on his, he knew the girl had talked and shared undoubtedly horrific memories with his compassionate woman. “We had a nice chat, and I discovered I rather like the blue. I went back last month to have her put some more in.”

Yeah, he definitely loved this woman. He wanted to pull her into his arms; he settled for running a finger down her cheek.

She gave him a suspicious frown. “What?”

“You please me more than I can say, Gabi,” he said softly. A pretty pink colored in her cheeks. That first day he’d seen her, he’d known it would be a delight to watch her flush.

“Um. Thank you.”

Smiling, he handed her a piece of the traditional naan bread. She scooped up some hummus and took a bite. When she closed her eyes in pleasure, he remembered she’d had the same expression when sucking his cock, when he kissed her, when he bent her over… He shifted in his chair, needing to drag her to the hotel room he’d rented. Right now.

Across the table, his grandfather exchanged amused smiles with Nana. Totally obvious, was he? He found he didn’t care in the least. But he had work to do here, and he might as well start off by killing two birds with one stone. “Gramps, do you remember the woman I introduced y’all to at the beginning of the summer? Celine?”

Beside him, Gabi stiffened, her face turning poker bland as she sipped her drink. Nana, in contrast, appeared appalled at his rudeness at talking about a previous girlfriend.

“I remember her,” Gramps answered. “Sugar wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Spineless.”

“Good description.” Marcus glanced at his little sub. Open shock. The first crack in her believing what Celine had said. Excellent. Now to confront it head-on. “She has a problem with honesty as well. Apparently she’s telling people we’re in a relationship and that I love her.”

Gabi choked on her drink.

“Ah, a witness? What did she tell you, darlin’?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not on the stand, so watch it, Mr. Lawyer.”

A snort of appreciation from Gramps.

Marcus put a finger under her chin. “Tell me, Gabrielle.”

“She told me you love her because she never gives you any back talk. Whatever you want is what she wants.”

“You fancy a biddable woman?” his grandfather said in disbelief.

Nana tsk-tsked at him. “Of course he doesn’t, dear. Now hush.”

“Do you really think I’d enjoy someone I can walk all over?” Marcus asked, running a finger down her cheek. “Do you realize how boring that would be?”

“But…” From her confused expression, that’s exactly what she believed.

“I see. We’ll discuss that later then.” He let his anger with her show. “Do you think so little of me you believe I would”-the memory of his grandparent’s presence made him revise his language-“ah, take you home if I was involved with someone?”

“No.” Her gaze dropped. “Not at first. But she said, straight out…”

“She lied, Gabi.” Marcus leaned an elbow on the table. “A few dates doesn’t make a relationship, and aside from occasional scenes, I’d stopped seeing her well before you. She didn’t take the hint, so I told her, rather bluntly, a couple of weeks ago that I had no intention of doing…anything…with her again.”

Brown eyes met his, and he saw her temper spark. “She lied to me? Out-and-out lied?”

Marcus smothered his smile. “I’m afraid so, sugar.”

Her growl sounded like a higher version of Nolan’s.

Gramps slapped his hand on the table. “So what are you going to do about this woman?”

“You have any suggestions, Gabi?”

She thought for a moment, and her lips curved. “Whatever you want is what she wants…so what if you wanted her to spend an evening with Ma-” She cut the word off and flushed slightly. “With Sam?”

Marcus stared at her, then roared with laughter. “You possess an evil mind, little brat.”

“Is Sam ugly or something?” Nana asked.

“No. Actually Sam’s a very nice guy, but he has a rather well-known kinky side.” Marcus winked at Gramps. “He’s a hard-core sadist, Nana, and he has a fondness for whips.”

Gramps barked a laugh.

Nana’s eyes widened. “My goodness, how do you meet such interesting people?” She tapped a finger against her lips, then nodded, shocking him-and Gabi-completely. “That would be a fine predicament to put her in, bless her heart, and an appropriate consequence for her lying.”

Marcus smiled at Gabi. “Means you’ll need to come to Tampa for the show, darlin’.”

“I…I…” She averted her eyes. “You know, we should eat while the food is still warm, don’t you think?”

Well, he might have won a battle, but obviously the war was not yet won.

The time with Marcus’s grandparents had been wonderful, Gabi thought, as Marcus opened the door to his hotel room. Damn, they were fun.

His grandmother volunteered at various Tampa wildlife rescue groups, had tried to draft Gabi into helping, and been disappointed to hear she lived in Miami.

In contrast, his opinionated, pushy grandfather had deliberately prodded Gabi with idiotic statements, rather like poking a stick at a caged monkey. Finally when he’d complained about the money going to health insurance for children, she’d lost her temper and ripped his logic to shreds. He had a roaring laugh almost as wonderful as Marcus’s. After he caught his breath, he’d told Marcus, “She’ll do.”

They liked me. Yes, most people did, but she’d never expected approval from Marcus’s family.

And Marcus hadn’t acted stuffy at all. He’d held his own with his grandfather, bantered with his grandmother, and every time he laughed, heat streaked down her spine.

“C’mon in, sugar,” Marcus said, holding the door open for her.

“I can’t believe you took a room in a Disney resort.” The African decor continued in the room, with warmly golden tones, wood carvings, and bright patterns on the bed-the very big bed. She looked away.

“Since you like the panthers at that cat rescue place so much, I thought you’d enjoy this.”

He’d remembered. Warm fuzzies edged aside some of her nerves.

After pouring two glasses of wine, he walked onto the balcony. “Come here, darlin’. Let’s talk.”

Just like that, she felt as if someone had wrapped a big hand around her throat, cutting off her voice. Her feet wouldn’t move until he curled his finger up in a “come here” motion.

Fine. They really did need to get this over with. She joined him on the balcony, sipped the smooth pinot noir, and pretended to watch the animals on the grassland. Talk. How could she make him understand? Even if he thought he wanted her, he didn’t. He wouldn’t. She mustn’t let him push her into something he’d regret.

“What are we talking about?” she asked lightly. The low murmur of conversation came from other balconies, a little boy yelled in frustration, someone had their music turned to a loud rock station.

Marcus frowned and shook his head. “This isn’t going to work.”

Her hopes that should never have arisen drained away when he pushed her back into the room and closed the balcony door. “Okay.” Her voice didn’t shake. Much. “I didn’t think it would.” She set her glass on the small table in the sitting area.

He tilted his head in puzzlement and then smiled, grabbing her hand as she headed for the door. “No, darlin’, I mean we can’t talk on the balcony. There’s too many people around. And you don’t appear capable of rational discussion at this point.”

“What?”

“We’ll try irrational first.” He grasped the bottom of her blouse and pulled it over her head. Before she got past “Marcus!” her bra followed the top onto the floor. “What are you doing?”

He chuckled, ignoring her attempts to keep him from yanking down her jeans zipper. “What do you think?”

“This…this isn’t talking.”

“Sure it is. Now just stand right there, sugar.”

When she stepped back instead, his frown and the stern set of his jaw stopped her cold. She’d learned to obey the trainer far too well. Before she collected her resolve, he’d removed her jeans and thong.

“Marcus…” She forced the words out. How had she let this go so far? “This isn’t a good idea.”

He stepped closer, touching her cheek lightly with his fingertips. “I missed you, Gabi.”

The open emotion in his low voice shook her, the pull toward him as hard to fight as a riptide. “No,” she whispered.

“You are appallingly stubborn,” he said under his breath. He tugged her hair and stepped back.

She hauled in a breath.

“So let’s have a look at you.” His gaze ran down her body, leaving a wake of heat in its path; then his eyes darkened. He brushed a finger over the black bruise on her left breast. “How did this happen?”

Her throat constricted, and she swallowed against the nausea accompanying the memory. “Jang got rough.”

His mouth tightened, but he only nodded and examined the bruises on her back and hips and shoulders. “How did you get these?”

“Falls.” She found a smile for him. “Being dropped into a big box. Knocked onto a dock.” She touched the abrasion on her forehead. “This was the dock too.”

He traced around the ugly bruise on her right side, and she winced. He frowned. “Are your ribs cracked or broken?”

“Bruised.” She sighed when he lifted his eyebrows. “Only a crack or two from when Jang kicked me. Then again, I did kick him in the balls.”

A dimple appeared beside his mouth when he smiled. “Good for you, darlin’.” With firm hands, he sat her on the edge of the bed. Cupping her cheek, he examined the bruise there and the others along her jawline. “From the dock?”

“Jang.”

“I owe Z a drink for taking care of him for me.” His words were mild, but she saw the fury in his eyes and the tension in his muscles. Oddly enough, his anger on her behalf drained some pain from her own memories.

She rubbed her cheek against his palm. “Vance said Z did a thorough job. Jang’s ribs were definitely broken.”

“Knowing every breath he takes will hurt for a long time does help.” He tipped her chin up and scrutinized her face. “He put his hands on you… How badly is that still bothering you? I would think it might bring back some ugly memories.”

“A few.” She closed her eyes, unable to tolerate the piercing gaze. “I was…scared.” Trapped, hurt, no way out. She shivered.

He sat down beside her and enclosed her hands in his warm ones. “Go on.”

She tried to shrug. “I’ve had a few panic attacks. It’s getting better, maybe because I managed to fight back a little this time. And I chose to play decoy, so everything didn’t happen out of the blue, for no reason. I’m more upset about…” She swallowed against the lump in her throat. “My friend. K-Kim. There’s not much hope now.”

“Ah, darlin’, I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Come here now.” His hard arms closed around her and pulled her against his chest. Her eyes pooled with tears because she had someone to lean on, even if for only a short time. The comfort… No one had held her since the hospital, and God, she’d needed that. As if he could tell, he simply cuddled her for a while, rocking slightly. His chin rested on the top of her head, and she felt enclosed in warmth and safety.

“You know, you scared me spitless, li’l subbie. First when I heard you’d been kidnapped, and then…even worse, seeing your box tip toward the water.”

She smiled against his shirt. Other people besides her could be frightened. “Thank you for not letting me drown. Vance said you got hit by a pipe when you swung me back onto the dock.” She pulled back and touched the bruised, abraded spot on the edge of his forehead, half covered by hair. He had a bruise on his jaw too. He’d taken a fist in the face. “Thank you for rescuing me.”

“My pleasure.”

She unbuttoned his shirt. The white gauze bandage on his left shoulder seemed horribly wrong on his golden tan skin. A yellowing, round bruise bloomed over his left ribs, and she gave him the same inquisitive gaze he’d used on her.

“Took a punch.”

God, look at him. Bandages, bruises, cuts. All from knowing her. She’d almost gotten him killed. Her eyes filled with tears.

“Now don’t you start watering up over a few marks, sugar.” He pulled her back against his side. “I get worse in karate classes.”

“You almost died,” she said. She pushed her head against his arm, shaking inside so hard she might shatter. She’d gotten past most of the aftereffects, but the nightmares of those few minutes hadn’t lessened. Cesar yelling, “Fucking cunt.” Her body no longer her own. Freezing. Marcus’s yell, “Gabi, down!” The crack of the pistol. “If I’d dropped like you ordered, you…” The sound he made, the blood, so horribly red. “I’m sorry, Marcus. You worked so hard on getting me past freezing up, and still I didn’t move and you-I’m so sorry.”

“And you’ve felt guilty ever since.” He actually chuckled, and she looked up to see the amusement on his face. “Did you really think one evening would fix you all up? A problem like yours doesn’t disappear so easily, Gabi, and if you were thinking straight, you’d know it, Miz Counselor.”

She stared at him. “You don’t blame me?”

“For something you have no control over? Hardly. And if you’ll trouble yourself to remember, one minute before you froze, you kept me from getting shot. That bullet probably would have killed me. We’re even, darlin’.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs and smiled down at her. “Besides, taking a bullet in a successful FBI operation has made my reputation in the DA’s office.”

“Oh. Well.” Men. Strange, strange creatures.

“Anything else we need to discuss about the fight?”

She shook her head. So that’s why he’d wanted her naked-to check her injuries. All her worries about having to tactfully refuse him were silly. Relieved…and disappointed, she reached down and picked up her jeans and thong.

“Nope.” He pulled them out of her grip and pointed to the center of the bed. “Put yourself there.”

“But-”

“We’re not finished yet, darlin’.”