Threads Of Desire (Creative Hearts Book 3) (22 page)

Her only saving grace was the fact that at least Samara’s dress was a success. At her last fitting, even her tough mother couldn’t find fault with the design and gave Gabby a reluctant nod of approval. But still it didn’t stop her from worrying about every detail on the garment. She had nightmares of it falling apart as Sam made her way down the aisle.

There was a knock on Gabby’s open office door and it caused her to look up from the garment she was re-measuring against Zara’s specs. She’d already found errors in the girl’s work and was thoroughly frustrated, since they had a fit model due in the morning.

“Knock, knock.” At least Dono sounded pleasant.

“Since when do you knock?” She fought to put some warmth in her voice. It wasn’t his fault that his parents had hired Zara. Besides he’d been nice to her lately. It was as if he’d taken her message to heart and she was glad for it.

“I’m sorry. I’m just having a day.” She gave him what she hoped was a warm smile. “What’s up?”

He grinned back at her, those pretty eyes of his going to sparkle. “Well I’m about to make it a lot better.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Really? You about to help me spec these garments? ‘Cause I can sure use the help.”

He frowned. “What about Zara?”

She raised a brow. “Yeah, what about her?”

Dono grinned and walked over to her, slipping the tape measure out of her hand. “Well, leave her a note. Because we’re going to lunch.”

She pulled back. “Dono, I don’t have time for games, and come on, I thought we were past this. I’ve got too much work to do.”

He grinned. “Gabby, baby, first of all, I’ll never be past you. And second, I don’t play games. This is a business lunch. Your last samples were crap, so we’re meeting a fabric supplier at Venturo’s.”

“Why doesn’t he come up here if he wants to do business with us?”

Dono let out a huff. “This guy is old school and this is how it goes. You coming or not? I’m not gonna lie, you being there might help the deal. Let him see those pretty—” his gaze traveled south to her breasts then reluctantly came back up—”eyes of yours, and we just may get the price we need.”

Gabby gave him a cold hard stare. But she really did need better fabric than the shit that Caberrera’s guys were bringing. It was like it was whatever was falling off the truck that season—and the end of the truck at that. “Fine. Let’s go.”

• • •

Gabby walked into Venturo’s and pulled down her skirt, smoothing it over her behind. The old Italian eatery had old school New York garment district written all over it. The décor was simple, with white tablecloths and spotlights on each wide table, so that business could be done before the meal was served. There was also an ample bar with a floor-to-ceiling wall of wine bottles so that said business could flow freely and easily.

Gabby had heard of lots of deals being made here in the past, jobs being offered, dreams being made, but in this day of emails and texts and IMs, she didn’t think there was actually any big business to still be had here.

She made her way past a small group holding court at a side banquet. There were two well-dressed younger men flanking either side of a regal older woman. The woman was weighted down with some serious pearls and the cutest vintage pillbox hat that Gabby knew had to be at least forty years old. Her breath caught in her throat when she looked to the side of their party and noticed the broad-shouldered, chocolate-skinned man with sparkling white cuffs and tell-tale suspenders peeking out from his suit jacket. It was Nick. And he was looking dead at her.

Gabby felt her body warm up as a smile started to play at the corner of her lips but then she saw it. His eyes—there was no warmth there. They were cold as ice, and he was looking at her as if she was nothing more than a bad dish in the middle of an otherwise delicious meal. The two men with him also looked at her with cold eyes, their chilled gazes boring into her giving her a shiver from deep within. She looked back to Nick and his expression stopped her cold. His normally full lips were forced into a flat line. She faltered on her heels and swayed into Dono. Immediately his hand went to her elbow and then the small of her back.

“You all right?”

“I’m fine.”

He grinned. “I haven’t even given you a drink yet. Come on.”

With a last gaze, she looked back at Nick. His eyes swept past her as he was getting up and making room at the table for two more in the party. Cruella de Claire and, Gabby guessed from the resemblance to the good-looking older man following, her father. So that was Nick’s boss. It was as if a stone had suddenly fallen to the bottom of her stomach. She turned away from the scene and looked up at Dono.

“I don’t normally drink during a business lunch, but if you’re buying.”

Dono led her by her elbow to a waiting table across the restaurant where an older man with hair that was shockingly dark for his weathered skin waited. Gabby plastered on her best deal-with-it smile, hoping her face wouldn’t crack in the process. Nick was exactly where he was meant to be. In the midst of the movers and shakers. With 
her
. And really it didn’t matter who “she” was. She was just a symbol of who he was and where he was going. Damn. She’d told herself she’d known this day would come. That it was all for the best. It was just that maybe she should have prepared a little better for it, coming as fast as it did.

Regardless, now it was time for business, and she really needed these better fabrics in order to turn her ideas for the new line around. She didn’t have time to waste worrying about Nick and what might have been.

The waiter appeared at her elbow to take her order and she slid her gaze away from Nick and Claire. No need to let it get her down. Better to get to the task at hand and that meant gathering her strength and moving on. She gave the waiter a wide smile and ordered a steak, extra rare.

• • •

Nick was fuming. It was after eight, and Gabby still wasn’t home. He sat on the couch and stared at the front door, his toes tapping the floor. Annoyed, he looked at his raising and falling knee and gave it a slap. Shit. This was ridiculous. She was probably still out with that fat-necked asshole, the one with all the hands.

When Steve had told him about that guy, Nick hadn’t been too happy, but seeing him in person had sent his blood boiling. And really, what were the chances of her walking in on his big meeting with the Suttons looking like sex on a stick and throwing him off his game? Then, he’d gotten another smack in the face when Bill Elliot walked in to check up on him with Claire on his arm—just in time for Gabby to see. She’d probably thought that shit was all planned. He growled in frustration. Of course, she’d thought it was all planned. And she was right. Elliot had planned it perfectly.

He slapped his knee again and got up and started pacing once more. It didn’t escape his notice how close that tan dude sat next to Gabby during their lunch and how his hand kept fucking disappearing under the table. It had taken all Nick had, to keep his mind on his presentation and not walk over there and break his goddamned hands. He went to the kitchen counter and banged his fist down on the old worn oak. He knew exactly what Gabby would say when he questioned her. She’d brush him off and throw Claire back up in his face. Tell him they were nothing and not exclusive. And she’d be right. He’d never made her promises and she’d never made him any either. The two of them had intentionally built this lovely little world where nightly they played house and daily they were something else entirely. Two strangers living separate lives with nothing really in common except a shared passion that only surfaced within these four walls. He really had become his father.

“Fuck.” The word came out with all the hatred and venom in his gut.

“Is this a solo act or is anyone invited?”

Nick swung around. In his rage he didn’t even hear her come in but there she was. Late, but there. “Where were you?” The words were out before he could think to stop them.

She gave him a half smile, walked in past him, and placed her bags on the counter. “So I see you didn’t cook. You want to share my leftovers from lunch or are you already full?”

“Don’t push me, Gab.”

She laughed and put her hand on his chest. “Oh please, don’t be so serious. What are you getting all up in arms about?” She walked past him and peeled off her shoes. He noticed that she didn’t do her normal at the door kick off. She held the heels in her hands. “I thought the whole thing at lunch was funny. What were the chances?” But her voice rose high and sounded a bit manic at the end. She then threw her heels under the foyer table. Hard.

Nick narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, what were the chances?”

He watched as Gabby stomped off to her room, not bothering to fully close her door, and proceeded to peel off her clothes. He stood there transfixed then shook his head. Yeah, she was fucking with him. Sensuously peeling off her blouse and slowly shimmying out of that skirt, showing him her pretty round ass in those black lace panties. But all he could see was that asshole’s big fat tanned hands as they came down on her back as they walked past their table, threatening to go lower. Then he felt the burning rage all over again when he glanced back at the table and saw Pierce Sutton’s greedy eyes on her ass too.

But she was his. Here, now, in this apartment, she was all his.

“Did you fuck him?”

At his hot words, she turned quickly around. Shock passed across her face briefly before she seared him with her eyes. He could feel the heat coming off her from twenty feet across the apartment. “What the hell difference would it make to you if I did? It wouldn’t change anything between us. We are what we are, and we have what we have. You’re doing what you’ve got to do to get ahead, and I’m doing what I’ve got to do. I don’t question you, and I’m not going to stand for you questioning me.”

Nick took several quick steps and, in an instant, he was in front of her. He picked her up by her thighs, the delicious feel of her perfect in his hands. Bringing her down hard on the bed, he captured her lips in a rough open-mouthed kiss. Sucking on her tongue, he seared his lips to hers at the same time that he held her hands above her head with one hand. With the other he caressed her breast, taking the full globe for his own. His head came down and he licked at her neck, relishing the intoxicating scent of her, letting his tongue trail down her body, freeing her breast from the lace of her bra and sucking fully and deeply until he elicited a long low moan from the back of her throat.

Letting go of her, he brought a hand down between the sweet juncture between her legs. He brought his fingers back up and licked at the sweet honey. He looked into her heavily lidded eyes. “No, you didn’t fuck him.”

Gabby stilled, then pushed at him. “And I’m not going to fuck you. Who do you think you are? As if you’re any better, screwing Claire. Just the latest in your long line of come-ups. And you have the nerve to question me. Whether I fuck my boss’s son or not is none of your business—but if I did, I’d think you’d be the first person to stand up and cheer. Hell, from you I should get some sort of honorary certificate or something.”

Nick’s heart stopped. He’d gone too far. He brought his head down to her chest and gripped her tight. Her breathing was heavy and labored after her perfectly stated speech. What was he doing, treating her this way? Accusing her like he did while Claire had been right there in her face. It wasn’t right. He was treating her in a way she didn’t deserve. Bringing the outside world in where it didn’t belong.

“I’m sorry, Gabby.”

She was silent. Nothing. But what did he expect? He’d owed her so much for so long; how did he expect her to trust him after one weekend of lovemaking and a few short weeks of playing house?

“Gabby, please. Talk to me. Tell me we can get past this.”

She brought her hand up to his head, her voice now soft and frighteningly resigned. “There’s nothing to get past, Nick. Like I said when I came home, we are what we are. Lunch was no big deal. I thought I made it clear I’m not the same young girl that you first encountered in that closet, and you can’t hurt me like you once did. We have what we have while it’s good, and when it’s done, it’s done. I don’t expect any more from you.”

His head shot up and he looked at her. “What the hell are you talking about? Why do you keep dismissing us?”

She gave him what was now turning into an annoying, all-knowing smile. “Trust me, I saw you today, and you were in your element. You looked perfect. A person like me doesn’t fit that image; that was absolutely clear. You’ve got moves to make, and so do I. We’re just on two completely parallel paths that sometimes lunch at the same place. I’m happy you’re finally realizing your dreams.”

He stared at her. It seemed like she was being so logical and making so much sense. And she was. Beyond his haze of rage, the luncheon hadn’t been a total loss. The Suttons were getting on board with a lot of his ideas, and thanks to Gabby, he had a new one in the works, though he didn’t think this was the right time to tell her about it. The thing was, Bill was right and Mrs. Sutton was into her family thing, full force. She’d eaten up the fact the Bill and Claire had shown up, and she seemed to latch on to the whole young lovers angle that Claire had insisted on playing up. He’d felt cornered, but with his potential partnership on the line, now was not the time for him to jump ship and go rocking the boat. He had to keep riding this thing out. But still, looking at Gabby now, it all seemed inconsequential. “What about your dreams?”