Rush (Breathless #1)

Rush (Breathless #1) Page 42

She rubbed over the length of her arm through the leather jacket, and bit her lip pensively as the car wove through late morning traffic.

There was still a drizzle in the air. No snowflakes or flurries. Not even sleet. But it was cold, gray and overcast, and the skies looked ready to burst at any moment.

When the driver pulled in front of the building, Mia ducked out and hurried toward the door so she didn’t get soaked again. She rode up the elevator, her anxiety heightening with every floor as she crept upward.

Eleanor looked surprised when Mia walked through the reception area.

“Mia, Mr. Hamilton said you were sick this morning. Are you feeling better?”

Mia smiled wanly. “A bit, yes. Is Gabe in his office?”

Eleanor nodded.

“See that we aren’t disturbed until he tells you otherwise,” Mia said in a quiet voice. “We have an important matter to discuss this morning.”

“Of course,” Eleanor replied. “Let me know if you want lunch delivered. I’ll see to it.”

Mia ignored the last and headed in the direction of Gabe’s office, her dread intensifying with every step. It sickened her to have to tell him of the pictures she saw. Of what Charles had threatened. She didn’t want to have to rehash what had happened in Paris all over again. She and Gabe had moved beyond that.

When she opened Gabe’s door, he glanced up, his brows drawn. When he saw that it was her, he immediately rose from his desk, a frown curving his lips downward.

“Mia? What the hell are you doing here? Are you all right? You should be at home in bed.”

He put his hands to her shoulders and pulled her into his chest, looking down at her face as if examining her for any signs of illness.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about, Gabe,” she said hesitantly. “It’s about yesterday…And what really happened.”

Gabe pulled away from Mia so that he could see the entirety of her face and expression, and his pulse accelerated as he took in the fear and dread in her eyes. She looked…terrible. And she never looked bad. But this morning she looked as though she hadn’t slept at all the night before. She looked tired and fragile.

He remembered thinking she looked as though she’d been crying yesterday. And now she was here suggesting that she hadn’t told him about something—something big—that had happened yesterday.

“Come sit down,” he said, his throat tight.

As he attempted to gently guide her toward the sofa across the room, she shook her head and pulled her hand from his grasp.

“I can’t sit, Gabe. I’m too worked up. I just need to tell you this and pray that you aren’t pissed—at me.”

Now he was really starting to worry. For the life of him, he couldn’t put all the pieces together. Everything had been so normal yesterday. Until lunch. When she’d gone out to get them both something to eat. When she’d gotten back, she’d been soaked to the bone, and it was almost as if she’d been in shock.

His brow furrowed further as she stared back at him, vulnerability shining like a beacon in her eyes. She was afraid. It sickened him that she was evidently afraid of him, or at least his reaction to what she would tell him.

In an effort to alleviate her tangible fear and unease, he slid his hands up the sleeves of her jacket and squeezed softly. She flinched and moved one arm away from his grasp, her hand immediately going to cover the spot where he’d grasped.

What the hell was going on here?

“Take off the jacket, Mia,” he said in a firm voice.

She hesitated, her breath blowing through her lips. Tears rose in her eyes, stunning him.

No longer willing to wait a moment longer, he stripped the jacket down from her shoulders and held her arm out so he could slide the sleeves down from her arm. She wouldn’t meet his gaze the entire time. As soon as the jacket was off, he saw her upper arm, the one she’d flinched over when he’d touched her.

His breath exploded in one huge burst when he saw the purpling bruises that painted the upper portion of her arm. His fingers went to touch the area, but he held back, not wanting to hurt her.

He reached for her other hand and dragged her toward the window where the light was better and he could see the marks.

“What the fuck happened here, Mia?” he demanded.

He ran light fingertips over the bruised flesh, and his pulse started pounding at his temple when he saw that the bruises very much resembled fingerprints. As if someone had roughly grabbed her and held on. Large fingers and hands. A man’s hands.

A tear trickled down her cheek and she hastily tried to wipe it away with her free hand. Fear seized him by the balls. What had happened to her? A knot formed in his stomach as dread foamed through his gut.

“Who did this to you?”

His voice was low and menacing and he was barely holding on to control. He wanted to find the son of a bitch who’d put his hands on Mia and kill the bastard.

“Charles Willis,” she said, barely above a whisper.

“What?”

She flinched from the explosion of his voice. Then she lifted her hand to put on his chest. He was vibrating with fury and she knew it. Her tear-filled gaze met his and there was pleading in her eyes.

“Yesterday when I went to get lunch, he stopped me on the street. On my way back, not far from the entrance to our building. He said he wanted me to give him information on the bids you’ve received on the project in Paris. He said his only chance was to undercut his competitors by enough that you’d be forced to go with him despite any misgivings on your part.”

A sense of foreboding crept up Gabe’s spine. “Did you give him this information?” he asked. Was this why she was so upset and convinced that he was going to be angry with her?

“No!” Mia said, her vehemence unmistakable. She looked devastated that he’d even ask such a question.

“Is that why he put those bruises on you?” Gabe demanded. “I’ll kill him for this.”

“There’s more,” she choked out.

She turned away, her shoulders shaking as she wrapped her arms protectively around herself.

“Oh God, Gabe. He made threats. He showed me…pictures.”

“Pictures of what?”

She turned back around, her face a mask of anguish. “Of us,” she choked out. “From that night. Of me tied and kneeling with you…in my mouth.”

She shook from head to toe. Her hands were trembling so badly that she looked as though she might collapse.

“And then there was a picture of me on the coffee table with him where he was trying to thrust into my m-mouth.”

“Son of a bitch!”

His response was angry and explosive. She flinched and took a step back, her arms crowding around herself once more.

“H-he s-said that if I didn’t g-give him the information he w-wanted that he’d go public with the photos. That he’d tell Jace. That he’d ruin you.”

Gabe was stunned. He couldn’t even form a response, though dozens crowded his lips. He was so angry that he couldn’t even think straight. He lifted a hand and pushed it through his hair and then over his face as he tried to process the threat.

Mia pushed forward then, her expression pleading and earnest. “I had to tell you, Gabe. I had to come to you with this. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—betray you. But he has pictures—God, the pictures he has! He’s angry and desperate. He gave me until the end of this week to call him and give him what he wanted.”

Gabe’s hand fell as he stared at her in utter bewilderment. She hadn’t betrayed him. She’d come to him, her eyes begging him to fix this. God, she trusted him, even after what he’d done to her in Paris. He was at fault here. It was his fault that this asshole had illicit, damning photographs of her in a position Gabe should have never put her in.

His heart was about to beat right out of his chest. Any other person wouldn’t have thought twice about betraying him. Hell, he couldn’t have blamed her if she’d turned over the information in an effort to protect herself. But she hadn’t done that. She’d come to him, had told him everything—at great risk to herself.

He couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He stood there staring at her, unable to breathe, unable to process the enormity of her decision.

She’d chosen him. Him over dishonor, humiliation. She’d chosen him over Jace.

God, she’d forgiven the unforgivable, and instead of being hurt and angry when faced with photos that showed, in graphic detail, what Gabe had allowed to happen to her, she’d chosen not to betray him. Instead she’d come to him, trusting him to take care of the matter. Trusting him to protect her!

Such faith baffled him. He was used to people betraying him. Hell, he expected it from most. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she had done whatever was necessary to protect herself.

But she hadn’t done any of the things he may have imagined. Instead she’d come to him. Hurt, frightened, confused. She’d still come to him when he deserved none of her trust.

No longer able to stand her looking at him with so much uncertainty and panic in her eyes, he roughly pulled her to him, holding her so tightly he doubted she could breathe. He buried his face in her hair and closed his eyes, inhaling her scent, absorbing the sensation of her against his skin.

She was tattooed on every part of his body. Deeper, in his heart, his very soul. A permanent brand that would never wear off.

“Mia, my sweet, darling Mia,” he whispered. “I’ve let you down and yet you still had enough faith in me to come to me with this.”

She pushed at him, putting hated distance between them. Her eyes were wild with grief and fear. No wonder she’d been in shock the day before. The bastard had not only hurt her but he’d terrified and humiliated her.

“I couldn’t betray you,” she choked out. “God, Gabe, I’m in a no-win situation. Do you understand that? If I gave Charles what he wanted, you would have cut me out of your life with the precision of a surgeon’s scalpel. If I don’t give him what he wants, he’ll humiliate us both. Jace will find out, and not only will it affect your friendship, but it could ruin your business partnership as well. Not to mention the things that would be said about you. The way it looks in those pictures…”

She trailed off, choking off as a sob welled in her throat. She swallowed, visibly making the effort to pull herself together.

“It looks as though you’re forcing me. That you’re doing this horrible thing. Those pictures are so damning.”

Hardened resolve screamed through his mind, roaring like an out-of-control freight train. But Mia needed calm. She needed reassurance. She needed him.

She’d trusted him more than anyone had ever trusted him. She’d given him her unconditional faith. He’d be damned if he let her down now.

“I’ll take care of the matter,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to worry. I want you to put this from your mind.”

Relief simmered in her eyes. There was hope as she stared back at him, damp trails down her cheeks. He lifted his hand and gently caressed away some of the moisture, and then he pulled her to him, lowering his mouth to crush hers.

He kissed her, inhaling her sweetness, savoring it on his tongue. He kissed away all traces of her tears, pressing his lips to her eyelids and then her cheeks, and back to her mouth again.

As he pulled away, a sob erupted from her throat, and it was as if she could no longer maintain her composure. Tears flooded her eyes and her shoulders sagged. It ripped his heart right out of his chest to see her sobbing as though her own heart were breaking.

“Mia, baby, ah honey, please don’t cry,” he said, reaching for her again.

This time he didn’t give her a choice. He pulled her over to the couch and down onto his lap, holding her as she wept against him.

She clung fiercely to him, her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she pressed her face into the side of his neck.

“I’m so scared, Gabe,” she choked out. “I don’t want my actions to make people I care about suffer. You, Jace. You both could be so hurt by this.”

“Shhh, baby. This isn’t your fault. Goddamn it. It’s mine. I was stupid and careless and I didn’t protect you like I should have. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t been such a goddamn fool.”

“What will you do?” she asked in an aching voice.

Her face was blotchy and red, her eyes swollen from crying. She was pale and she looked ill. Anyone seeing her right now would think she’d been through the wringer.

He cupped her head against him, stroking her soft hair.

“I don’t want you to worry about that,” he murmured. “I will take care of the matter. You have my word on that.”

He slid his hand up her arm, over the dark bruises that bastard had put on her. Rage made him crazy. This was twice that Charles had frightened and intended to harm Mia. He was going to take the son of a bitch apart and ruin him beyond repair.