Captured by the Billionaire / Sold Into Marriage: Captured by the Billionaire / Sold Into Marriage

“Max Striver. He’s—”

“I know Max,” Gabe interrupted, and wondered if his old friend really had taken the plunge and proposed to the cute little brunette he’d spent so much time with in the last few weeks.

“You know him?”

“For a few years. And I never would have thought he’d get married again. Are you sure about this?”

“Hmm? What? Oh, yeah. Apparently he followed Janine home to Long Beach and proposed. They’re getting married in London in a few weeks.”

“Amazing,” he mused, sitting on the corner of his desk. Of course, looking back, he could see that Max had been drawn deeper and deeper into the relationship with the woman he’d been paying to pretend to be his wife. Strange that now she’d be his wife for real. “He always said he’d never marry again.”

“People change,” she said lightly.

“Apparently.” He shouldn’t have been so surprised, really. He’d known that Max’s father had been after him to marry and start building on the family dynasty.

Debbie was staring at him, a question in her eyes. “You never got married?”

“No.” He stiffened, then forced himself to release the swift punch of tension gripping him. He hadn’t thought of marriage again until recently. But that wasn’t part of this conversation.

“Gabe…”

“Forget it,” he said, not wanting to hear her explanation of why she’d turned down his marriage proposal ten years ago. It was over. And now, his life was different. He was different. He wasn’t an eager young man following his heart anymore. Now he made decisions based on logic. Cool, clear logic.

“We should talk about it,” she said. “About what happened between us.”

“No point,” he said. “It’s over and done. Let it go. I have.”

Four

Gabe insisted they have a late dinner at Fantasies’ rooftop restaurant.

Debbie wanted to be doing something about her predicament, but since Gabe said all that could be done was being done, she’d had little choice but to try to relax. She wore the strapless, short black dress she’d brought with her on vacation, because it was the only dressy thing she had. But she also loved the way it fit, smoothing over her curves and flaring into a swirling skirt three inches above her knees.

Gabe’s green eyes had fired when he first saw her in it and that little jolt of confidence had done a lot for her.

Now, they sat at a private table, on the corner of the roof, with a wide, black sky glittering with stars above them. The moon’s reflection danced on the surface of the ocean and a soft breeze twisted the candle flames into a frenzied dance. The table was spread with a pristine, white-linen tablecloth and sported a single red rosebud in a crystal vase as a centerpiece. While the other people at the restaurant chatted and laughed, Debbie watched Gabe and wondered how he’d come so far in only ten years.

Physically, he looked much the same—long, thick, dark-blond hair, streaked gold now by the sun, a tall, lanky body that belied the strength in him. His face was sharp angles, piercing green eyes and a mouth that had, long ago, been able to reduce her to whimpers in seconds.

When she had known him, he’d been mostly a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy. Yet tonight, he wore a finely tailored tuxedo and looked as though he’d been born to it. In fact, with that long hair, pulled back at the nape of his neck, his high cheekbones and steady eyes, he looked both elegant and dangerous.

Enough to bring most women to their knees.

And she, Debbie thought, was no exception.

There was an air of tightly leashed power about him now that he hadn’t had ten years ago. She’d noticed how the staff at Fantasies practically came to attention when he entered a room. He seemed to know every employee by name and every one of those employees jumped into action when he quirked a finger.

And she wondered again if there were some remnants of the man she’d once known beneath the veneer of sophistication he carried now.

“What’re you thinking?” he asked, and she just barely caught the low rumble of his voice over the hum of conversations surrounding them.

Debbie smiled, reached for the glass of chilled white wine in front of her and took a sip to ease the dryness in her throat. “Just that you’ve changed a lot.”

There was no answering smile in his eyes, but he nodded his head in acknowledgment. “I had plans. I saw to it that they succeeded.”

If there was a barb in that statement, Debbie chose to ignore it. After all, ten years was a long time. Maybe he really had let the past go. Shouldn’t she do the same? “I don’t understand, though, how you did it? How’d you accomplish so much so quickly?”

He shifted his gaze to a nearby waiter, subtly signaled and had the man bustling over to top off their wineglasses. When the waiter had retreated again, Gabe said, “A combination of hard work and luck.”

“I’m guessing that’s the short version.”

Briefly, his mouth curved into a half smile. “It is.”

“How about the other version?”

He took a breath, blew it out and said, “There were a couple of lean years. Took a job in the Middle East, working security for the oil fields. Big money, not a lot of places to spend it.” One shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I banked my pay, invested most of it.”

Debbie lifted her wine again. “You can’t tell me you did all this on simple investments.”

“Hardly.” He lifted his own wineglass, studied the straw-colored wine as it was backlit by the flickering candles and continued as if he were talking to himself rather than to her. He took a sip, set the glass down and leaned back in his chair.

“Several years ago, I met a guy who had an idea for some computer thing.” He smiled ruefully and shook his head. “Didn’t understand then what it was all about, still don’t, really. But he seemed to know his stuff. He needed backing, I took a shot on him and hit the jackpot.”

He told the story so simply, but she could see him in her mind’s eye. Working in the Middle East, saving his money, investing it, taking a chance on another man with a dream. And finally, making all of his plans come true. A swell of admiration filled her as she remembered all the nights they’d spent talking about their dreams, their hopes.

He’d done everything he’d once talked about.

Accomplished so much.

“And then you bought the island?”

He let his gaze sweep the crowded rooftop restaurant before looking back at her. Pride shone in his eyes as he said, “Yes. I redid the hotel, renamed it and opened for business five years ago.”

“It’s a beautiful place,” she said, and wished she didn’t feel as though she were talking to a stranger. “You’ve really made something here, Gabe. Something people all over the world talk about.”

The waiter approached again, served their meals, then dissolved into the background as silently as he’d arrived.

“What about you?” Gabe asked as she picked up a fork and lifted a bite of her pan-seared halibut. “What’ve you been doing since I last saw you?”

She chewed, swallowed and said, “I still live in Long Beach. I own a travel agency there.”

“So you’ve done well.”

Nodding, Debbie let her pride in her business fill her. True, she hadn’t succeeded on the grand scale that Gabe had, but she’d made a good life for herself. One that was safe. Secure. And that was all that mattered to her. “Do you ever get back home?”

“No,” he said, biting off the single word. “I left Long Beach ten years ago—”

He broke off and Debbie winced. She knew when he’d left. After their last night together, when she’d turned down his proposal. She’d tried to see him a few days later. To try to explain. To make him understand that it wasn’t because she didn’t love him.