Gabriel David's White Horse (6 page)

“I haven’t had the pleasure.” He bowed in front of her. Then he held his hand out. She seemed perplexed, but offered her hand to him in spite of it. “It’s a delight to meet you. May I say I can see what all the fuss is about?” Zach winked at her.

Gabe chuckled. She pulled her hand free. “You’re brothers? How many of you are there?”

“Five,” Gabe answered.

“Well, come in Zach. Can I get you something to drink?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“I’m not having anything.”

“Let’s remedy that, shall we?”

Wherever he went, Zach lightened the mood. Gabe could mark the moment when Mirabelle had given into his charms. Her posture became more natural and her smile returned. “I guess I could open a bottle of wine.”

Moments later he heard the cork pop on a bottle of wine and hoped it meant he’d solidified rental of the room.

“This is a great place you have here, Mirabelle. Zach paced the small space between the kitchen and living areas. “Craftsman. Probably built around the nineteen forties. Nicely redone, I like the open concept.”

Zach was a talker. Gabe wasn’t. It was Zach’s nonstop chatter that eventually put Mirabelle at ease. And then Gabe decided to put it to the test, “How exactly is Victor involved in your life? And while we’re at it, why are you lying to him?”

“Does everybody like Chinese food?”

“Chinese food will be fine. Thank you, Zach,” Mirabelle answered while she scowled at Gabe.

Zach searched through his preset phone numbers. Both Gabe and Mirabelle watched Zach’s every move until the call went through. “I’d like to place an order to be delivered.”

Once Zach was occupied, Mirabelle shot her steaming lasers at Gabe. “It’s complicated.”

“Always is.”

“If I’d known you were going to hold me to it, I never would have made up the whole stupid room for rent story. It’s not a good idea for you to stay here.”

“It’s a perfect idea. My brother’s kicked me out of his home so I need a place to stay and now you can sit for my sketch; at your leisure, of course. One suggestion—you may want to work on your hospitality. You’re making me feel unwanted.”

She looked away from him and her expression lightened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know about your brother kicking you out. You can stay, but what happened before can never happen again.”

She had a quality about her. Something her eyes did when she thought someone was in need or hurting. He felt like shit now. He’d been joking about his brother, but he wouldn’t tell her that because he didn’t want her calculating the reasons he shouldn’t stay. And he really wanted to stay. There was something cozy and comfortable about her place and he wanted to explore that
something
a bit more. He wanted to explore her a bit more as well. For the first time in a long time he exhaled a contented sigh. He could be comfortable knowing that for the next few weeks he’d be satisfied. He could only hope that Mirabelle would relax and let the relief they created wash over her. If not, he wouldn’t be able to capture her beauty, and he needed to capture what he’d seen that day in the field more than he needed air in his lungs. He closed his eyes and whispered, “For you, mom.”

Gabe had been living with Mirabelle for a week and had found out yesterday that she was a dancer at The Loin of Venus. How had he missed that?

Standing in the living room he waited for her car to pull into the drive. Every time he heard the sounds of a motor he took a peek through the blinds.

It was one in the morning. What time would she be home? He pulled his phone from his pocket and searched for the number to The Loin of Venus club. Finding a link online, he pressed it.

“This is Rich.”

“What time does the club close tonight?”

“When the money stops flowing.”

“What does that mean?”

“Usually around four o’clock.”

Gabe hung up the phone. He gathered his wallet and keys and then exited the home. Behind the wheel of his truck he contemplated his next move. Why was he heading to the club? He didn’t have an answer. He just knew he wanted to be near her so he drove in the direction of the nightclub, diminishing the miles between them.

Parked in front of the club, he took in the façade. A large statue of a woman with large hips and bust made up the front. In fact, the club was designed so that patrons entered between the legs of the statue. Gabe sat for a while and worked out the lines of the figurine in an attempt to decipher her position. He finally decided she was leaning back on her elbows with her legs spread, the door of the club between her knees. It was an enormous fail. He’d be willing to bet money half the men who entered had no idea what they walked through on their journey to the interior.

He exited the SUV and walked toward Venus. He’d never been to a club. He’d been to bars. Would this be the same, but with nudes? He frowned, not liking the idea of Mirabelle’s nude body on display.

The red leather door opened onto a dark entryway and his eyes fought to adjust. “Twenty-dollar cover and ID.”

Gabe reached for his wallet and fished out his money and ID. After he passed inspection, he was waved through a dramatic set of red curtains. His eyes worked better inside the dimly lit atmosphere of the inner club. Off to the right a set of stairs wound around leading to an upper level. A sign on the first step read
VIPs only
.

Round tables filled the inside of the lounge. Against the walls and closer to the stage, round booths could be secured for a price. The women who serviced the tables were dressed only in thongs. He searched for Mirabelle, but none of the women had silken hair that was so light it was almost white. A few girls had however attempted the color. Daisy yellow and golden, sun-warmed wheat were among the colors of the collective blondes. And then he found her...she was on the stage, hanging from a pole with hair so long it touched the floor. The color of her hair was so pure and gentle he wondered how he would capture it without diluting its purity.

He didn’t understand why the sight of her fully clothed brought with it his utter relief. She wore powder blue shorts and a shirt to match that was fitted like spandex and had silver sequins around the edge. She was dancing and swinging around a pole like a circus performer. She was highly skilled and he recognized the addition of impressive choreography in her routine.

“Welcome, my name is Amber. What can I get for ya?”

Bordeaux…Amber’s hair was the color of French Bordeaux wine. She had sculpted kiwi green nails. I’ll take some water. She popped her head back and ran her tongue over her teeth. “I can get you water, but my tip better be more like I’m getting you whiskey.”

He nodded. “Can do.”

That elicited a smile from her. “Where can I seat ya?”

He pointed to a booth that had just been vacated by a man and woman and was directly in front of the stage. Sliding into the booth he watched Mirabelle. Her eyes closed lazily and didn’t open for several beats of the song. Looking around the club he saw men sipping drinks and watching her. Some men received what he assumed to be lap dances from women. Would Mirabelle give those? The image sent something sour straight to his stomach.

When the song ended men whistled, threw money on the stage, and yelled for her to take off her clothes. She simply smiled and walked around the stage to collect what had been left for her. He was so caught up in watching her movements as she glided across the stage he didn’t realize when she went backstage. Another song started and, unlike Mirabelle’s dance, this dance was a provocative striptease. The woman’s entire anatomy was on display and the men had become animals.

Gabe stood and dropped ten dollars on the table. Then he went to find her. His journey was terminated when he locked eyes with a large man who stood at the backstage entryway with his arms crossed. Behind him, commotion from costumed dancers running back and forth interfered with the beat of the music. He saw Mirabelle pass and shouted her name. The guard squared his feet and shoulders, ready for anything Gabe would throw his way. He was relieved when Mirabelle slid past the large man.

“Gabe? What’s wrong?” She regarded him with tense eyes and he realized he’d made her worry.

“Nothing.”

“What are you doing here?”

“When you didn’t come home I got worried.”

“It’s Saturday. I stay late on Saturday night.”

“Yeah, I saw you dance. You’re exceptional.”

“Thanks.”

The situation was awkward. He was coming off as weird and she was looking at him like he should say something. “It’s just last night you worked and were home around one o’clock.” He cleared his throat. “And now that I know everything is A-Okay”—his hand formed the okay symbol—“I’ll just be on my way.” How lame was he?

She giggled and pulled him back into the bowels of the club. “You mean you came all the way over here because you were worried when I didn’t make it home?”

“Yeah that’s how it happened.”

They’d landed in a room that had a leather sofa and a desk. “That’s sweet.”

“Oh good. I thought it might be construed as creepy.”

“No.” She thought a moment. “Well, you’re a little intense all the time. If I didn’t know you it might be creepy, but I do so know you and I think it’s sweet.”

He nodded. “You’re a really exceptional dancer.” Oh, he’d said that already.

She grinned, “Thanks.”

“But you don’t”—In the air his finger did a dance of its own. “You don’t”—

“Strip? No, I don’t. I teach pole dancing once a week over at the Y and years ago I was asked to come to the club and teach the ladies how to use the new pole. I was asked to stay on, but I had a few conditions. Condition number one was no stripping.”

His awareness of her standing next to him in the dark office was palpable. Over the past week that he’d been living with her she’d blossomed like a rose. She liked physical contact and currently her arm linked through his and her free hand kneaded his chest. She reminded him of a kitten. She hadn’t said it in so many words, but he got the feeling she liked having him around.

There was light coming from the crack of the door but other than that it was dark. He wanted to kiss her and his hand found her jaw. When his thumb slid over her lips she stilled and exhaled against his finger. His lips replaced his thumb and she sighed her relief. Gently he kissed her, noting her tongue and lips were cold like ice, but it did little to quell the heat they made together.

“Your mouth is cold.”

“I was guzzling water from the cooler when I heard you.”

“Parched after your dance?”

Her hand traveled down his chest and hovered around his waist. “You have no idea.” As she leaned her head against his chest, her fingertips traced the space above his belt. When her hand fell a little lower a light groan escaped his throat.

“Sorry, it’s dark in here.”

“Don’t be sorry, I liked it.”

She separated them. “I guess I better get changed.”

“Are you dancing again?”

“No.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“Okay.”

It was barely a week later when Belle found herself in the same exact situation she’d been in before. Well, it wasn’t exactly the same. Instead of it being Victor who followed behind her car, it was Gabriel. He’d been so sweet to run over and check on her at the club when she hadn’t made it home by one. No man had ever done anything like that for her.

Just as she had last time, she called Cara. However, unlike last time, Cara didn’t answer. As she drove, she ran her thumb over the phone’s slick surface. Maybe it was for the best that she couldn’t reach her daughter. Did she really want Cara to tell her not to seek comfort from Gabe’s touch? No, she didn’t think she wanted to hear that at all.

The violent vibration of her phone startled her and she dropped the phone on the floorboard of the SUV. “Shit.” She reached with her arm while keeping a close eye on the road.

She grasped the phone and pulled it to her ear without identifying the caller, “Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Gabe?”

“Expecting someone else?”

“Not at all. What’s on your mind?” She was smiling partly at his playfulness and also because she loved his deep growl.

“You.”

“Oh, dear.”

“I was hoping you’d say that I was also on yours.”

She giggled, feeling like a girl in high school. “I am thinking about you.”

“Oh, dear.”

“I was hoping you’d say that made you happy.”

“It does.”

She sighed into the phone. There were a lot of pauses when dealing with Gabe. He was a thinker and this wasn’t the first time she wished she possessed the power to mind read.

She wanted to hear the deep intensity of his voice so she asked, “What specifically were you thinking about?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?” She protested.

“Do you want to tell me what specifically you were thinking about?”

“No!” She thought she’d heard a giggle.

She could hear his breathing before he said, “Right now I’m thinking when we get home that I don’t want you to go to bed.”

“But I'm sleepy.”

“Are you?”

“I guess if the company were extremely charming I could be persuaded to stay up.” They were turning onto her street.

“Hmm, charming. I’ve been told I can be charming.”

She pulled into the driveway. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Goodbye, Mirabelle.”

She unbuckled her seatbelt and stretched her arm and torso to reach her bags from the floor of the passenger side. Her door opened and Gabe offered his hand. “May I carry something for you?”

Oh, so he was charming. “Here.” She pushed her bags into his grip. He took them into one hand, and then held his other arm out to assist in her exit from the SUV.

Gabe led her to the door where she waited while he unlocked it. He pushed the door open and leaned inside to switch on the outside lights. Then, he stepped aside and gestured her across the threshold. It was such a simple gesture, but her eyes filled with moisture at his kind act. She’d never experienced such security from a man. There was a relief that washed over her and it came from knowing that he wouldn’t be leaving in the middle of the night because he was already home.