Gabriel David's White Horse (2 page)

“I’m coming, Mr. Falcon.” He was Mr. Falcon Junior, but his father had since retired and the employees had dispensed with the designation. She finished combing her hair, and then said her goodbyes to Jules.

Belle had been teaching pole fitness classes for almost ten years. In fact, years ago she’d been hired by the club to teach several of the girls some moves. When Mr. Falcon Senior had seen her perform he’d made her an offer she couldn’t refuse.

Her mind had strayed from the immediate topic of Victor Palmer.

Belle sighed. Did she love him? No. That would be ridiculous. She did however love spending time with him. They had fun together and enjoyed one another immensely. He came through Baton Rouge five or six times a year and it was nice to feel needed and desired. Nice to be wanted by someone. Had Victor wanted more, Belle would have been scared. She’d been in a relationship with Cara’s father for six years when he’d up and left without warning. She knew she wouldn’t survive anguish like that a second time around, and so she wasn’t interested in anything too serious. Not with a guy like Victor anyway. He’d have to be one helluva charming bastard for Belle to risk her heart, and Victor just wasn’t—although he sure thought he was.

She walked from the dressing room—dubbed the bubblegum room for the various shades of pink represented throughout the space—and out to the lounge floor. She found Victor having a drink at one of the pub tables while he enjoyed a table dancer.

His dimples were deep as he displayed his sexy smile for Cindy. Victor was a lady’s man and the biggest flirt Belle had ever met. When his charm was on full power his eyes danced like liquid, dark chocolate fountains. The final blow in his arsenal came when he smiled and revealed his glittering white perfectly straight teeth. No woman could resist his smile that shone like a diamond necklace…and after all,
diamonds are a girl’s best friend
. Even if a woman could withstand the first and second hits, once his smooth liquid vibrato voice chimed in, the fight was over. That voice of his reached out and grabbed a woman right between the legs. Most of the women in the club thought she was the luckiest woman alive since it was always her that he took to his bed. The memories hit her in tingles…God, the things he did to her body should be illegal.

And that was the problem with Victor…he had a short attention span. He was separated—
or
something
—from his wife. Belle thought it quite sad. They were married, but estranged. However, they wouldn’t divorce because of the kids—
or
something
. There were a lot of
or something’s
with Victor. She’d known the man for seven years and she’d just found out he habitually came to Baton Rouge for more than business. Turns out, his father lived in the area.

Walking toward the bar, Belle clicked her tongue as she passed a delighted Victor engaging with the woman who danced atop his table. He and his wife each had significant others in their lives. Well, Belle didn’t know if she was the only S.O. in his life. Victor was a passionate guy, and she suspected he also had someone back home in Philly.

Belle set her bag on the bar and dug to unearth her cell. She had a missed call from Cara. Belle’s eyes filled with tears at the thought of her daughter so far away. She missed Cara something terrible and would give anything to have her back in Baton Rouge. Her greatest worry these days was that Cara would fall in love with the Big Apple and never return to the South. She wiped a tear from her cheek.

“Hey kid, would you like a drink?” Victor asked over her shoulder.

“Nope. Just waiting for you to finish with Cindy.”

He placed his lips near her ear so only she would hear, “I’d rather you danced for me up on that table.”

She pulled away from him, intent on not providing a public display. “That’s not going to happen. Victor, what are you doing here?”

“Can we get out of here first? I’ve got the hotel, shall we go there?”

Belle didn’t want to go to a hotel. She wasn’t entirely sure she was glad to see Victor. Besides, it was late and tomorrow afternoon she was playing piano at the nursing home, and she had a load of laundry to wash. Plus she needed to get down to Sears and buy a new dishwasher.

“I can’t go to your hotel tonight, Victor.” Belle stuffed the phone in her bag and walked to the door. Victor followed.

“Belle, you don’t seem happy to see me.”

In the parking lot of the club, he shoved his hands in his pockets and huffed about frustrating women. He wasn’t as bright-eyed as she’d remembered and she wondered what was up with him. His clothes, normally impeccable, were wrinkled. His expensive suit trousers hung loosely at his hips. He’d lost some weight. “Victor, is everything all right?”

“Yeah, I’m worried about you.”

“Me?” Belle pressed her index finger into her breastbone.

“You’re acting weird.”

She attempted to relieve his anxiety with a smile, “I’m just surprised to see you.”

“My father died. I’m here putting his affairs to rest.”

They weren’t close…Victor and his father. However, no matter what Victor had said, she knew he’d desired a more intimate relationship with his father. On more than one occasion she’d seen his eyes swimming with tears when they’d watched movies about father and son. It happened when the movies ended—especially when they ended happily. He’d deny the tears, blaming it on allergies or an eyelash, but she knew what was up. She reached for his cheek, cupping her hand to his jaw. “I’m so sorry about your father, Victor. Come back to my place.”

“What about Cara?”

“She’s in New York for her internship.”

“You must be missing her.”

“I’m dying.”

Belle climbed into her Saturn SUV. It was sad about Victor’s father. She would have supported Victor if he’d only called or texted that he needed her. But he hadn’t.

Victor’s father had been a Baton Rouge businessman. It was Belle’s guess that he was here alone dealing with the death of his father. In the rearview mirror she saw his mid-sized rental car as he followed behind her. How long would he be here this time? Ultimately he’d leave, he always did.

Using the hands-free car feature, she rang Cara.

“Mom! Hey, I missed you.”

“It’s good to hear your voice, Cara. How’s New York?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, everything is fine.”

“You sound depressed.”

“I want to hear about your internship.”

“Mom, talk to me.”

“It’s just…Victor’s in town.”

Cara clicked her tongue and sighed into the phone. “Send him on his way, Mom.”

“He’s sort of following me back to the house.”

“Remember what we talked about? You promised you wouldn’t do this. And what the hell is he doing back so soon?”

“His father just died.”

“I’m sorry.” She exhaled noisily into the phone. “You don’t have to sleep with him to offer him comfort, you know.”

“I know.”

“Promise me you won’t.”

“I’ll try.”

“No. Promise.”

“I’m lonely, Cara. It would feel nice to be held.”

“Just use that rabbit dildo I got you before I left.”

Belle laughed into the phone. “God Cara, I miss you so much it’s painful.”

“I miss you too, Mom. But I’m loving the work here. I’m researching Leopold’s reign in the Congo.”

Belle’s nose scrunched up, but she was over the moon with pride for her studious daughter. “Wow! That sounds awesome.”

“Cut the bullshit. What I think we’ll both agree is awesome is that the other day, while I was waiting in line for coffee, Tina Fey walked in and lined up behind me.”

“Shut up! That is way cool.”

“I know…I tried hard not to geek out, but I think I stared a bit too long anyway. Mom, have you seen or heard from Max?”

“No, but I don’t think anyone else has either.”

“Did you go over to his house like I asked?”

“Yeah, and that’s what I’m talking about. I only spoke with the cleaning lady but she said he hadn’t been around in a few weeks.”

“He’s set me up with an apartment on Madison Avenue. Wait until you come see it. You can see the park!”

“I can’t wait.”

“Oh…I gotta go, Mom. I just called to say I love you and I miss you tons.”

“I love you baby, take care.”

She would do it…for Cara she would do it. Victor Palmer wouldn’t charm his way into her knickers on this visit.

Pulling into the driveway she smiled at the lighted path lined with the blooms of marigolds and daisies. She’d planted them to keep herself occupied the week Cara had left. She’d even touched up the black shutters and sanded and repainted the door. The white trim looked especially clean against the dark door, even at night. Victor opened her car door and offered his hand. He was nothing if not a charmer. “House looks great.”

“Thanks”—she placed her delicate hand in his large one—“I’ve been touching up the paint.”

Inside, Victor took a seat in the red-velvet chair. Belle loved that chair. He fussed with the pillows, pulling them from behind his back and tossing them on the couch. She giggled. He looked more than a little silly in the feminine living room. From the chandeliers down to the velvet furniture and satin window treatments, hers was definitely a girl’s home.

“How about some whiskey?” She asked.

“I could use a finger or two.”

The home was small and in four steps she stood in the cream and powder-blue kitchen. She removed glasses from the cupboard and poured the whiskey. The amber liquid had her recalling the last time he’d blown through town. She’d spiraled into what Cara referred to as
one of her episodes
. She hated to be weak, but she had no control over it.

“Here you are.” She placed the glass in his hand and moved to sit on the couch. With his masculine hand he pulled her toward his lap. When she resisted he pulled her down hard and she fell across him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Her legs rested over the arm of the chair and the furniture groaned under their weight.

“You’re going to break my chair.”

“And you’re going to break my heart.”

Belle scoffed and turned from his arsenal of charms, “Highly unlikely.” From her position across his lap, she watched the masculine muscles of his neck work as he took a swallow of whiskey. The liquor was the same color as his skin and a trickle dribbled from his chin, landing on her chest. She lifted her hand to wipe it, but was deflected by him. He held her hand and bent his head to her chest. His moves had always been as smooth as silk. His rich sandalwood scent hit her nostrils and then his velvet tongue lapped up the drops on her chest. Her back arched on its own accord and she felt the control seep from her veins. Tilting her head back, Belle closed her eyes and let him free her breasts from the dress she wore. His moans vibrated through her as his lips closed around a nipple.

Her eyes flew open when his hand started an ascent up her thigh. It was then that she saw Cara’s picture in the blue rhinestone frame on the built-in living room shelf. It had been taken the day of her graduation from college. “Stop. Victor. Stop.” She pushed at his shoulders and he slowly sat up.

“Stop?” He wore an incredulous frown.

Belle quickly got to her feet and righted her clothes. She perched on the edge of the couch at a safe distance from his reach. “I want to talk about your father.”

He shook his head, “I don’t.” His sultry stare burned her skin so she looked just past him.

“What do you need from me, Victor? I can help you put his affairs to rest.”

“What I need is for you to stand up and complete a striptease, and then I need to feast on your beautiful body.” His eyes narrowed and his head lowered. He stood and stalked toward her like a predator.

“Victor, I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Belle, what are you talking about?” He had her backed against the wall, her hands in his, massaging gently with his thumbs.

“What I mean is I can’t do this with you anymore.” She really needed him to understand this…especially if he would be in town for a while. There could be no sex between them. Not any more.

“But I need you, Mirabelle.”

Her name from his lips forced the air from her lungs and she whispered, “No, Victor.”

He looked at her hands, his demeanor serious. “Will you tell me what’s changed?”

For six years, whenever he came to town, she’d shared his bed. Belle could understand his confusion at her resistance. “Can we sit?”

“Lead the way.”

They sat on the beige and mint-green striped loveseat. Once again, Victor removed three decorative throw pillows and threw them on the red chair. “So Belle, why don’t you tell me what this is about?”

“I know when you come to town we usually hook up but”—

“We don’t hook up. We’re passionate and exacting. I know how to make your body sing and you know how to make mine fly.”

Belle crossed her legs at the ankles and clasped her hands over her knees. “Very poetic. I agree. So, when you come to town we do…that. It’s bliss. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do for the rest of eternity than lie with you naked in bed, but I have a bit of a condition.”

He frowned, concerned. “A condition?”

“It’s described to me as depression, but I don’t normally feel sad. But there are triggers. You leaving is one of them. It’s hard and I turn into someone I don’t want to be. I don’t know how I’d manage it if we were to be together any more than we already are. If you were to be around for a while and then you were to leave I’m afraid of what may happen to my sanity. It’s a self preservation thing.”

“Belle, I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Aside from our amorous activities, I don’t know you all that well. I’m embarrassed.”

“Look, Belle, I never wanted to hurt you.” He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. He clasped his hands together as if saying a prayer and rested his forehead on them. “In a perfect world you and I would have given it a go and it would have been spectacular.”

“It would have been.”

“You deserve spectacular.” He squeezed her knee. He pressed his lips to her cheek, and then he stood. “I’ve had several ounces of alcohol and won’t be able to keep my hands off of you. To uphold your wish, I should make my way toward my hotel room and a cold shower.”