Gabe's Revenge Read online

  She’d immediately offered what was left of Mama’s trust fund to help with repairs, but her inebriated father had laughed in her face.

  “You think that will help? Live in the real world, girl. You couldn’t even come home with a proper degree, could you? Waste of time taking an art degree.”

  His dismissal of a subject so dear to her heart had hurt at the time. Mama had been a talented artist, and all her tutors had said she’d inherited her late mother’s talent. She’d stupidly thought Papa would be proud of her, but the man who stared her down through red-rimmed eyes held little resemblance to the vibrant, strong man he’d been when Mama had been alive.

  People said grief affected everyone in a different way, and she supposed that was true, but her father had lost himself to gambling and drink. No matter how much she pleaded with him to stop—and in his rare lucid moments he promised to seek help—he didn’t.

  How could I have been so stupid?

  She should have known something was up when he’d asked her to dress up. Her birthday was tomorrow, and she’d stupidly thought he’d wanted to treat her. That little girl inside of her, the one desperate to gain back her beloved Papa’s approval, had squeed for joy when he’d smiled at seeing her come down in her finery.

  “Oh, you’ll do just fine.”

  Her heart had sunk when the cab had taken them to the casino. Still, she’d hoped. Casinos weren’t just for gambling. Henshaw’s was also known for the first-class entertainment Gabe put on, and the fine dining. What little hope she’d held for this to be a celebratory dinner had evaporated the minute they’d entered to a decidedly frosty reception. Gabe’s goons had surrounded them, and amidst noisy demands from her father to be allowed entry, they’d been escorted to the roulette table. She hadn’t caught what Papa had said to the croupier, but the assessing gaze and the way the men around her had sprung into action had given her a very bad feeling.

  Never in a million years would she have thought her own father would sell her like a piece of meat, however. How could he?

  Anger won over her despair, and she swiped the useless tears off her face. If Gabe thought she was just going to lie down and think of England while he used her as his personal broodmare then he was in for a surprise.

  Not that Gabe had said that exactly. In fact, he’d seemed outraged at her father’s suggestion, and her stomach churned recalling that moment he’d broken her father’s nose as effortlessly as other men broke bread.

  Her belly flipped anew for entirely different reasons this time, because Gabe Henshaw was everything her father wasn’t. Strength, virility, dominance, and danger literally oozed out of every one of his pores. He had to be at least six and half feet of muscles—prime male meat, her incorrigible roommate Chantelle would have said. Despite him having to be at least twenty years older than she was, he didn’t look his age. The gray strands in his dark hair and neatly trimmed beard suited him, added to the whole vibe of experienced man, and lord help her, one of the many reasons why Lissandra had yet to use her V card was because men her age never did it for her. Her celebrity crushes were Sean Connery and Sam Elliott, for pity’s sake. Chantelle used to tease her mercilessly about that.

  If only she was here to talk her off the ledge. Chantelle would know how to handle a man like Gabe. Chantelle would no doubt also tell her, to stop protesting and to enjoy the ride.

  Lissandra was all too painfully aware that being in effect sold off to Gabe didn’t bother her half as much as it ought to. When he’d crowded her against that wall, imprisoning her with his large body … every feminine cell in her body had sighed in submission, especially when he’d threatened to put her over his knee.

  The car stopped as abruptly as it had driven off, and Lissandra had barely a moment to school her features into a mask of indifference before the door was yanked open, and a brawny hand reached into the interior to grasp her arm.

  “I can get out by myself, dammit. Stop manhandling me.”

  Soft laughter reached her ears. Naturally the suited muscle that hand and laugh belonged to, took no notice of her protests, and giving into the inevitable, Lissandra let him haul her out of her car. She swallowed hard when she realized where they were. An impressive, tall luxury apartment complex rose before her. The Thames was right in front of her, and Lots Road Power Station with its imposing twin towers was behind her. Chelsea Riverside meant serious money, not that she got a chance to fully take in her surroundings, as flanked by several of Gabe’s men, she was ushered into the stunning marble, chrome, and glass foyer. The concierge behind the desk looked up and nodded at them.

  No help was going to be forthcoming from that quarter. Then again, what did she expect? No doubt Gabe owned the entire building, and even if he didn’t, who in their right mind would take on four, clearly armed bodyguards? This close to them she recognized the slight bulges under their tailored suits.

  Thoughts of bullets brought her mother back to mind. Lissandra had sat frozen in the back of the car, seeing her mother take a bullet that had clearly been aimed at her father. Their driver had spirited Lissandra away to safety, and Mama had died in the hospital later that day.

  Thoughts like that were not helping to slow down her breathing. If she kept going like that, she’d be in danger of going into a full-blown panic attack. There was no way on earth she would let that happen, so Lissandra forced herself to take deep breaths in through her nose and out through her mouth, while she watched the leader of the group guarding her insert a key into the lift panel. It popped open to reveal an electronic keypad. He was too fast for her to memorize the code he used, and besides, she highly doubted they would leave the key for the panel lying about. The lift ascended with quiet, deadly precision. Lissandra kept her gaze on the floor levels lighting up, and when the lift continued on its journey for several more seconds after the last floor lit up, she had her answer.

  Naturally, Gabe would be in the penthouse, and one that didn’t advertise its presence to mere plebs like her, who might also live in these luxury apartments.

  When they finally stopped, and the door slid open, Lissandra couldn’t help her gasp. They stepped out into a carpeted entry, which opened up into a huge, open plan living area. A kitchen was to her right, doors opening up to what she presumed must be bedrooms on her left. The lights of the city were a sparkling display through the floor to ceiling windows that made up most of the walls in the space.

  Lissandra knew she had to look like a buffoon, standing there dumbfounded. No doubt her mouth was open, and she couldn’t be entirely sure she wasn’t drooling. How much was Gabe worth to afford this? With her luxury surroundings came the heart-sinking realization that she was trapped. There was no way on this earth she would be able to escape from this luxury prison, and she blinked back more tears threatening to erupt.

  “Ah, there you are. Welcome, my dear.”

  The kindly voice belonged to a little old lady with silver hair, who appeared from the kitchen area, and smiled at Lissandra. Her smile slipped when she seemed to notice Lissandra’s anxiety, and she clapped her hands together.

  “Right, off with you. I’ve got her now.”

  “Oh, come on, Mavis. Don’t we get a drink or something? One of your cherry pies?” The big guy standing next to her shifted from foot to foot, looking more like a little boy then the menacing presence he had been. Mavis took no notice of him, just waved him away and made shooing noises, while she turned her attention on Lissandra.

  “Go away. You made the girl cry. That’s no way to treat a lady. Be off with you before I get my frying pan and bash some sense into your heads.”

  The way all four of them stepped back, hands in the air, would have been comical in any other circumstance. Now, it just added to the anxiety which clogged up Lissandra’s throat and threatened to make the contents of her stomach appear.

  “As for you, my dear, come and sit down before you fall down. What has that boy done to you, eh?” Gentle hands guided her into the open plan area, an
d onto one of the plush seats in the living area. Lissandra gratefully slid onto the leather couch before her wobbly legs gave up on her. “There, now, let me fetch you a cup of tea. Nothing is that bad that it can’t be fixed with a cuppa, and I’ve got some ginger biscuits, too. That’ll help settle your stomach.”

  The kind words made Lissandra burst into renewed tears, which only got worse, when the other woman clucked her tongue, sat down next to her, and enveloped her in a bear hug.

  “Oh, you poor wee thing. There, there now. It will be all right you see, Lissa.”

  By the time Lissandra finally had her emotions under control, she’d soaked the starched front of Mavis’s apron with her tears, and she murmured her apology.

  “I’m sorry, I’m not normally such a watering pot.”

  Mavis tucked her hair behind her ears and smiled.

  “That’s quite all right, my dear. These are hardly ordinary circumstances for you. I dare say it’s not every day that Lissa Andrini finds herself ensnared by her father’s enemy.”

  Lissandra jerked, and Mavis brows drew together in a frown at her reaction.

  “I’m sorry. My mouth tends to run away with me. If I overstepped the mark, then, please forgive me. I shouldn’t be having this conversation with you, anyway, but with Gabe. Lord knows what he was thinking. Let me get you that tea, Lissa.”

  Mavis rose, and Lissandra put her hand out to stop her.

  “No, it’s not that. It’s just, you called me Lissa.”

  Mavis turned, hands on her ample hips, and frowned.

  “Would you rather I call you Lissandra? We don’t stand on ceremony on here, and I only use the boys’ full names when they’re in trouble.”

  Lissandra smiled through her tears and shook her head.

  “They’re hardly boys, Mavis, and no, it’s not that. No one has called me Lissa since my mother died, that’s all.”

  “Ah, I see, you were very young when she passed, weren’t you?” Mavis asked.

  Lissandra swallowed hard to dislodge the lump of emotion in her throat and nodded.

  “I was eight, yes. How do you know all this? I mean, you know who I am and…”

  Mavis shrugged.

  “I’ve known Gabe for a long time, and I know the whole sorry tale. What happened to your mother was such a waste. That bullet was meant for Andrini, not her. Anyway, let me get that tea.” With that she bustled and reappeared moments later with a tray holding not only a cup, saucer, and a teapot, but also milk, sugar, biscuits, and an assortment of mini sandwiches. Seeing them made Lissandra’s stomach rumble, and Mavis laughed.

  “Ah, thought you might be hungry. You just go and help yourself, and eat something, while I go and make sure your room is ready.”

  Again, she hurried off, leaving Lissandra to her own devices. By the time she drank her second cup of tea and had eaten nearly all of the tuna and cucumber sarnies, she didn’t feel as though she was either going to faint or throw up any minute. She hadn’t even realized how hungry she was until she started eating. Taking her cup with her, she walked over to the plate glass window and took in the views. This would be stunning in the daylight, no doubt.

  “Ah, there you are. There’s a wee balcony out there to sit on when the weather is nice as long as you don’t mind heights. The views are better from the bedrooms though, and the terrace is enclosed. Always makes me feel a tottie better. Come, I’ll give you the tour, and show you your room, so you can freshen up.”

  True to her word, Mavis gave Lissandra the tour of Gabe’s apartment. Just as she’d expected, four bedrooms led from the carpeted entrance hall. All of them had en-suite bathrooms, with the master bedroom being the last one along. Lissandra’s stomach fluttered in something suspiciously like anticipation when she took in the huge bed dominating the middle of the room. Surely, that ought to fill her with disgust, not tendrils of arousal. Gabe’s scent clung to this room. Nothing too ostentations, just hints of the dark, spicy musk of his cologne, and Lissandra hastily turned her back to the room.

  “And this here is your room. Gabe asked for you to have the one next to his.”

  Mavis swung the door open and flipped the lights on, and Lissandra gasped. The room was almost identical to Gabe’s, if slightly smaller. While Gabe’s room had been decorated in darker colors, this one was done up in soothing pastels and had an altogether more feminine feel to it.

  The reason made anger rise in her belly, and Lissandra ground her response out through gritted teeth.

  “This where he keeps all the women he kidnaps?”

  Mavis sucked in a sharp breath and shook her head.

  “Oh, my dear, you have him all wrong.” At Lissandra’s snort in answer Mavis’s wise old gray eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms under her impressive bosom. “Oh, that boy is no angel, but he’s never raised a hand to a woman, or kidnapped one. Trust me, I brought him up better than that. Had it been up to his good for nothing mother, I…” Mavis slammed her lips shut, as though she said more than she ought to have done and sighed.

  “Anyway, I’ve put some toiletries in the en-suite for you, and there’s one of my nighties under the pillow on the bed. No doubt, it’ll swamp you, but it’s better than sleeping in the buff.” She winked at her when she said that. “I figured you wouldn’t be comfortable enough to do that. There’s also several bathrobes in the wardrobe, which will do, until we can get you some clothes, or the boys bring over your belongings. Size sixteen, right, in dresses? And I’d say…” She walked around Lissandra, studying her as though she was an insect under a microscope. “Thirty-four double D in bra size, am I right?”

  Lissandra couldn’t get her voice to work at all, so she simply nodded.

  “Thought so. Well, make yourself at home. I’ll be off now. There’s more food ready to heat up in the fridge, and if you need anything else, just pick up the phone. Someone will answer it and help you. Same goes for any emergency. There’s an alarm button right next to the lift, which will send security straight up to get you.” She paused and smiled when Lissandra couldn’t help her hopeful jerk. “Gabe’s security, Lissa, so don’t get any ideas. You’re perfectly safe here, and I’ll be on the floor just below if you need me for anything. Sleep tight now.”

  With that, Mavis left her to her own devices, and seconds later the ding of the lift doors signaled her departure.

  Despite Mavis’s instructions, Lissandra approached the lift. Sure enough, there was a red button to press, but she couldn’t see any other mode of opening the doors. When she stepped close enough to touch the doors slid open on their own.

  Stunned, Lissandra stepped into the lift and pressed the button for downstairs. Nothing happened, and none of the other floor buttons worked either. She glared at her reflection in the mirrored walls.

  Face it, there’s no way out, so you might as well enjoy the place.

  With that thought in mind, Lissandra ran herself a nice hot bath. When her toes and fingers turned wrinkly she got out, and by the time she’d dried her hair with the state of the art hair dryer she found in her nightstand drawer, she was yawning.

  The last thought she had before sleep overtook her, was if her father was still alive. Gabe had been so very angry at him, and why did that make her heart miss a beat? She hated Gabe Henshaw, didn’t she?

  Chapter Three

  “Get the fuck off me. I’m not in the mood after all.” Gabe scowled at the woman kneeling between his legs, trying her best to get him hard. What the fuck was that all about? Gabe never had a problem getting it up, yet from the minute Ange had paraded into his office, smiled and tried to kiss him, his previous hard-on had turned into the equivalent of a limp noodle. Even now, with one of her hands caressing his balls, the other rubbing up and down his shaft and her painted lips around his tip, he didn’t manage a twitch.

  His mind briefly conjured up a young dark-haired woman, and his dick semi-hardened instantly.

  “There you are, it’s all right, you’re getting there.”

&
nbsp; Ange’s voice broke the spell, and Gabe pushed her off him.

  “I said get off me, woman, and get the fuck out of my office.” Ange sprawled backward on the floor, legs splayed, giving him the perfect, if brief, glimpse of her shaved cunt before she scrambled upward. Did fuck all for him, and his mood darkened. He got to his feet and turned his back on her wanton display. By the time he’d tucked himself back in his jeans and pulled several notes out of his wallet, she was back on her feet, and pouting.

  “Jeez, what the hell is wrong with you, boss? You asked for me, remember.”

  Gabe threw several hundred at her and scowled.

  “I know. That should be more than enough for your troubles. Now get out.”

  Ange looked all set to flounce out, but common sense won out, and she picked up the notes, stuffed them in her cleavage and then paused, hand on the door handle.

  “I won’t tell anyone, you know. It happens. Nothing to get upset about. I—”

  She blanched at his growl of sheer outrage and made herself scarce.

  How fucking dare she assume he had a problem? He didn’t fucking have one, or rather he didn’t until Lissandra walked back into his life.

  He poured himself a double measure of whisky and yanked open her folder. On the top of it were the latest reports he’d had about her. He hadn’t had a chance to look at them yet, but, fuck him. She looked even more edible in casual jeans, with her hair tied back into a ponytail and not a scrap of make up on her face. These pictures had been taken last week at Heathrow. So, she hadn’t been in the country long then? The sense of unease he’d had ever since the interlude with her father grew bigger and killed dead any lecherous thoughts he might have had right there and then.

  The girl needed protection, and after tonight’s debacle that fell squarely on his shoulders. The up to date reports on Andrini only added to that damn itch down his spine. Especially that pic of Andrini getting into a blacked-out limo, registered to Ollivanti’s company two days ago. Ollivanti kept his cards close to his chest, and getting intel on the crime lord was notoriously difficult. No one liked to talk for fear of ending up as fish food, and the guy had someone on his payroll in the Met Police.