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

“We will, we will, rock you!” The best that could be said about his singing voice was that it was loud. The worst was, he kept running through every eighties song his blurred mind could recall. And the words he didn’t remember, he made up.

Debbie’s head was pounding and her eyes felt gritty. She was so tired she could hardly think and knew she wasn’t going to get any sleep at all. Not with the drunken lounge singer keeping her awake.

“Hey, honey,” the man crooned suddenly as he leaned on the bars separating their cells. “Got any requests?”

“Yes,” she snapped. “How about you shut up now?”

He grinned sloppily. “Don’t know that one. How ’bout ‘you’re just too good to be true…’?”

“Oh, God.” Debbie cupped her hands over her face and sighed heavily while she was serenaded. She couldn’t take this. Even facing down a cold-eyed Gabe would be better than being stuck in this cell with a drunk wannabe crooner.

Besides, there was no telling who the guards might bring in next. And with both cells occupied, the guards would start doubling up. Who knew who might be Debbie’s roommate by morning?

Mind made up, she jumped off the cot, crossed to the cell door and shouted, “Guard! Guard!”

She’d never thought she’d be in this position. It was like she was living an old movie. All she needed was a tin cup to rattle across the bars. She was humiliated and scared and tired, and all she wanted to do was to go home. But since she couldn’t at the moment, the hotel would be way preferable to life in a cage. Damn Gabe for being right.

When the security guard opened the door and looked in at her, she could have wept with gratitude. “Would you call Gabe for me? I mean, Mr. Vaughn?”

“What do you wish to tell him?” the man asked, pitching his voice to be heard over the strains of “Every Breath You Take,” now being slaughtered by Debbie’s cell mate.

She shot the drunk another furious glare, then turned back to the guard. “Tell him…tell him I changed my mind.”

* * *

Debbie stepped into Gabe’s suite at the hotel and could hardly notice any of the plush surroundings, since her gaze was locked on him. He wore nothing but a pair of black silk pajama bottoms that dipped low over his hips.

His broad, bare chest was tanned and sculpted as if out of bronze. His long, dark-blond hair hung loose and was tousled enough to tell her he’d gotten out of bed to answer her cry for help. The lights in the room were dim and the sheer drapes were pulled open, allowing the moon and starlight to drift inside on a wash of silver.

“Thanks for bringing her up, Emil,” Gabe said, and shook the guard’s hand before seeing him out and closing the door behind him.

Debbie stood in the middle of the living area and dared not take her eyes off of Gabe for an instant. When he met hers, she read annoyance and pleasure in those dark green depths and found herself shifting uncomfortably beneath his steady regard.

“Fine,” she said on a sigh. “You were right. I changed my mind.”

He leaned back against the door, folded his arms across his chest and crossed his feet at the ankle. Studying her for a long minute, he said, “I’m tired. It’s been a long day. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

“Okay, good,” Debbie said, and finally took a moment to glance around her. “Just tell me where to sleep and I’ll get out of your way.”

“My room’s through there,” he said, pushing away from the door and pointing to a door on the far side of the long room.

“Uh-huh. Where’s mine?”

He smiled. “With me.”

“Now wait a damn minute,” Debbie said, shaking her head. “I didn’t agree to—”

“Dial it down, Deb,” he cut her off quickly. “Like I said, it’s been a long day. I’m tired. I’m not arguing with you about this.”

“Fine. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Don’t have one.” He started across the room, moonlight playing on his bare skin like a lover’s touch.

“Don’t have a—” She took a quick look. Chairs. Dozens of chairs sprinkled around the wide room, clustered in conversation groups, but no sofa. “What kind of a person doesn’t have a sofa?”

“Me. Now come on.”

“I’m not sharing your bed, Gabe.”

“To sleep, Deb.” He opened his bedroom door and scowled at her. “And you damn well are. I’m too tired to go chasing you across the island if you should try to escape.”

“I’m not going to escape.”

“Damn straight, you’re not. Now come on.”

Her insides squirmed uneasily. Sharing a bed with Gabe had not been a part of this deal. But she wasn’t sure how to get out of it and, damn it, she was tired, too. After all, he hadn’t been the one trying to sleep on a narrow, lumpy cot in a jail cell for the past several hours.

She started across the room, keeping her gaze fixed with his. “No false moves.”

He choked out a short laugh. “Don’t flatter yourself, babe. You’re not that hot.”

“Thanks very much.”

“No more talking. Sleep now. Talk tomorrow.”

“Fine.”

She stepped into his bedroom and almost sighed. The room was huge, with an empty fireplace on one wall, a set of French doors leading to a wide stone terrace on another and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on a third. An open doorway led to what must be the bathroom, and moonlight drifted in through the terrace doors, laying an invitation across a bed as big as a football field.

Every cell in Debbie’s body groaned in anticipation. But as Gabe walked around the edge of the bed to the left side, she swallowed hard. He pushed those silk pajama bottoms down and off and stood there naked, watching her.

“Do you mind?” she said quickly, turning her gaze away, but not before her mouth went dry and her stomach did a quick spin and lurch. God, he was still gorgeous.

“You’ve seen me naked before.”

“Yeah, but do you have to be naked now?”

He laughed, got into the bed and pulled the white duvet up over his hips. “Like I said, I’m tired. Now get into bed and go to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep with you naked.”

“And I can’t sleep with me in clothes. Guess who I’m more worried about.”

“No guess required,” she muttered, and walked around to the other side of the immense mattress. Stepping out of her sandals, Debbie thought seriously about sleeping in her clothes, but then decided that would be stupid. It wasn’t as if Gabe was even interested in her. And if he did make a move, she could stop him.

Would stop him.

So keeping her eyes averted, she undid the button and zipper on her shorts and slipped out of them, letting them fall to the hardwood floor. Then she sat on the bed and swung her legs up.