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

At least Gabe wasn’t buying what the woman seemed so intent on selling. He smiled again, then turned his attention back to the older, sophisticated couple standing on his right. The brunette pouted for a minute, then slipped into the crowd.

“Happy hunting,” Debbie whispered as she watched the scene play out from the doorway of Fantasies’ main club. A swirl of nerves jittered through her stomach and had her taking a long, deep breath in a futile attempt to settle herself.

Gabe may completely be at ease here, but she felt as out of place as a discount store in Beverly Hills. She knew she was here under false pretenses. After all, the people crowding this club were wealthy, pampered. She owned and operated a travel agency in Long Beach. She couldn’t be more different from Fantasies’ usual guests.

Nerves rattled through her again and she tried to ignore them. DJ-driven music pumped through cleverly disguised speakers on the dark-red walls and candlelight waved and flickered on every tabletop. On the dance floor, couples swayed in sensuous patterns, conversations and laughter rose and fell like waves on the ocean, and amid the sea of people, Debbie felt suddenly alone.

The only person she knew here was Gabe, and he was more or less a stranger now, anyway. Ten years was a long time and what they’d had together then had nothing to do with today.

Her hair was swept up into a tangle of curls and the soft kiss of an air-conditioned breeze brushed the back of Debbie’s neck. She shivered a bit, but knew it had little to do with the cool air and more to do with the uneasy situation she found herself in—depending on a man who had no reason to think well of her and no way of getting back home.

“Deep thoughts?”

Gabe’s voice rumbled across her nerve endings and she jolted a little as she turned to find him standing right beside her. His green eyes shone with an emotion she couldn’t quite identify and the subtle, spicy scent of his aftershave seemed to reach out for her. The man was a walking hormone assault.

“I didn’t hear you come up.”

“Looked like you were too busy thinking to hear much of anything.”

“I guess so,” she admitted, keeping her gaze locked with his.

When he smiled, the secrets in his eyes shifted, softened. Then he held one hand out to her and as she took it he said, “You look beautiful.”

The deep, sapphire-blue dress fit snug to her curves, as if it had been designed especially for her. It snaked down her hips and belled around her knees to fall to the floor in a fluid sweep of silky fabric. She’d never owned such an amazing dress and still wasn’t sure she should have accepted it.

She’d found it laid out for her on Gabe’s bed—and the shoes and matching bag were alongside it. Logically, she knew that buying her this dress had been no more to him than picking up a quart of milk at the corner grocery. But illogically, she felt wrong wearing a dress given to her by a man who didn’t even like her.

Swallowing hard, she said, “Thank you for the dress, Gabe. Really. It’s beautiful. But—”

“If you’re about to tell me I didn’t have to do it, save your breath.” He tucked her hand through the crook of his arm and led her into the crowded club. “I wanted you here tonight and you needed something appropriate.”

Meaning nothing she’d brought with her would do. Well, hard to be insulted by the truth. But still, it irritated her to have to acknowledge it.

“Thanks, anyway.”

“You’re welcome.” He looked down at her, smiled again and Debbie’s knees went a little wobbly.

A simple hormonal reaction, she assured herself as he steered her toward the dance floor. Didn’t mean a thing. Then he pulled her into the circle of his arms and slid into the crowd of slowly moving people on the gleaming wood floor.

His arms felt good—right. She moved against him and memories crowded her mind. Memories of a slow dance with him on the Long Beach pier one cold, autumn night ten years ago. The moon had been out, casting shadows over them and the dozen or so people joining them on the pier.

The scent of the sea had whipped around their bodies, the sweet rush of love had flowed between them. He’d smiled at her then, just as he was now, and when he’d kissed her, she’d known she loved him.

“You’re thinking again,” he whispered, bending his head to hers so that his voice and his breath caressed her ear, sending another shiver over her body.

“Just…remembering,” she said, her hand on his shoulder tightening, to help her balance.

“The pier.”

Her head tipped back and she stared up at him, surprised somehow, that he’d allowed himself that memory. Hadn’t he made a point in the last couple of days, of telling her that he had no interest in the past?

“You remember?”

He moved her into a slow turn, his arm about her waist squeezed, pulling her closer to him. Close enough that she felt the hard ridge of his body pressing into hers.

“Just because I don’t want to think about the past doesn’t mean I’ve lost the memories.”

“They’re good memories,” she said, and watched sadly as the shutters dropped over his eyes again. He was still here, with her, but his emotions had closed down, shutting her out, shutting out anything that might have been warming between them. And something inside her was sorry for it.

He stared at her, his gaze moving over her face with the sureness of a touch. “Not all of them.”

“No,” she admitted, hardly noticing the blur of motion from the dancers moving past them. They were nothing more than a wash of brilliant colors, blending together into a swirl of distraction. “But most of them are good, Gabe. Do we have to lose it all because of the way it ended?”

“I found out a long time ago that it’s better that way. Cleaner.”

His arm still held her close, belying the distance in his words. “But emptier.”

“The present’s full enough for me,” he countered.

“Is it?” She tore her gaze from his long enough to look around the crowded club, to take in some of what he’d built before meeting his gaze again. “You fill it with people like the brunette in the red dress and that’s all you need?”

His mouth quirked. “You jealous of the brunette?”

“Oh, please.” Irritation spiked because, yes, she had been jealous, even if it hadn’t lasted long. “If those boobs are real, I’ll eat my pretty new dress.”

He laughed out loud and the sound of it rolled over the music and settled over her like a blessing from the past. God, she’d loved the sound of his laughter. And his smile had always been enough to light up every corner of her heart. How could she have forgotten? Self-preservation, that’s how, she reminded herself. If she’d spent the last ten years remembering what she’d given up, she’d never have been able to be happy.

“Ashley Strong is a very nice woman.”

Debbie gasped and looked past his shoulder as if she could spot the woman. “That was Ashley Strong? The actress?”

“You didn’t recognize her?”

“No.” And she didn’t see her now. Debbie’d been too busy being sickened by the woman’s blatant attempt at seduction to pay much attention to who she might be. She looked up at Gabe. “But now I know for sure those boobs aren’t hers.”

He laughed again and swept her into a wide turn, his hand firmly on the small of her back. “Damned if I haven’t missed that smart mouth of yours, Deb.”

“You missed me?”

His smile faded and the shutter over his eyes snapped into place. “For a while, I missed you with every breath I took. But it’s different now.”

“Maybe,” she said, and held on to his shoulder tightly. “You say your present’s very full. Yet I watch you working the crowd, Gabe, and I see you surrounded by all of these people, but you’re not actually connected to any of them.”

One corner of his mouth quirked. “How do you know?”

“Because I know you. You’re here, but you keep yourself separate from everyone else. I can see it in your eyes.”

He frowned at her now and the arm around her waist eased off just a little. “You used to know me, I grant you that. But it’s been a long time, Deb. I’m not the man you knew. You should trust me on that.”