Make Me, Sir (Masters of the Shadowlands #5) - Page 60/68

Just like that, the water stuck in her throat. She choked and coughed and tried not to whimper at the stabbing pains in her ribs. She said hoarsely, “No.”

Vance frowned. “Does he…?” He shook his head. “First things first. Galen, boot up your computer. I have a couple of problems that came up.”

Galen picked up his cane. “Excuse us, ladies.”

As the two men moved away, Gabi turned to Jessica. “Did you and Z… Um.”

The blonde laughed. “We definitely ummed. And Gabi? What you said helped—not only the explanation of the kidnapping stuff, but how Z feels about me. We’re getting married. Soon.”

“Oh. My. God.” Gabi hugged her, ignoring the complaints from her ribs. “That is the best news I’ve had all week.”

“I’m so happy.” Jessica bounced in her chair. Then her brows drew together. “Although he’s still pretty steamed I left the club that night without him. He said something about putting me in leg shackles.”

Gabi snickered. “You poor baby.” After waiting for her voice to steady, she asked, “So how is Marcus? Have you seen him?”

“Yeah, we’ve visited him almost every day—got him groceries and stuff. He seemed a little shocked at first about everybody showing up to help out, but he’s mellowed a lot. Anyway, he’s doing all right, but he’s not supposed to use his arm much. The doctor gave him a sling.”

Relief felt like a cool breath of air. “Good. That’s good.”

“Well, well.” Jessica raised her eyebrows. “Did you get hooked on him like all the trainees do?”

Just another one of the trainees, huh? Gabi assumed a rueful smile. “Guess so.”

“You met his girlfriend yet?”

“Oh yeah. The lovely Celine made a point of introducing herself.” He deserves so much better.

“She would. She goes out of her way to make it clear he belongs to her.” Jessica shrugged. “Damned if I know how she caught him—I still don’t know him that well—but men are really stupid sometimes. Still, she’s the kind of oh-so-sweet sub he likes. Everybody knows he doesn’t like bratty subs.”

“Sally mentioned that.” And he told me himself.

Jessica’s mouth curved. “You’re a lot like Sally, you know. I bet if the agents had asked you to be a sweet, passive submissive, you’d have had a lot more trouble playing the part.”

“Oh thanks,” Gabi snapped, then tried to imagine herself being all sweetness and light. Ugh. “You’re right. You bitch.”

Jessica giggled. “So why don’t you ask Marcus to introduce you to a dom who likes brats?”

Oh sure, and how pitiful would that be? Please, Marcus, if you won’t have me, do you know someone who would? “Thanks, but I’m going back to Miami on Monday.”

“Already?”

“I need to work. I really do. Sitting around is…” Too filled with memories and wishes and disappointments. Between her parents’ disapproval and loving a man who didn’t like her personality, she not only needed a distraction but to surround herself with her friends too—before I throw a pity party to end all parties.

“Got it.” Jessica smiled. “I wanted to go back yesterday, but Z told me I had to wait until Monday. For someone who said he only dominates in the bedroom, he sure gets bossy sometimes.”

“And you love it.”

“Well, yeah. Still, it’s probably better that he doesn’t know that.”

Gabi raised her eyebrows. “If you think he can’t tell, you are so delusional.”

Jessica snickered. “Point to you.” She glanced at her watch and grimaced. “I’ve got to go.” Her hand curled around Gabi’s. “I wish you could stay. When you come back to visit your folks, why don’t you call, and we’ll get together?”

“I…don’t visit my parents. I’m only there because Galen wanted me close to Tampa and I was too dizzy to stay alone.” Gabi managed a smile. “They’re pretty conservative, and…they don’t approve of me. At all.” God, Gabi. Pathetic much?

“Oh.” Jessica frowned. “Well, maybe come back to the Shadowlands for a visit?”

“Jessica, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

The blonde’s eyes turned unhappy. “You really did fall for Marcus, didn’t you? Oh, Gabrielle…”

“I know. Wouldn’t work…and I agree.” Gabi made a shooing gesture. “Go. Don’t draw this out or we’ll both end up bawling. Galen would be horrified.”

Jessica nodded, gave a quick hug, and hurried out of the room.

Gabi moved her chair to face the windows and pretended to watch the thunderclouds building up on the horizon. When she had her emotions under control, she turned back around and saw Vance leaning on the desk watching her. Galen had resumed his seat at the table and had the same assessing expression.

“Are you two through with me?” she asked coolly.

“Only a few things left,” Galen said. “Your friend, Kimberly. I’m sorry, Gabrielle. It’s not good. If we can take this organization down, we might be able to trace her. But our best bet—finding them before the auction—didn’t happen.” He looked so unhappy she wanted to pat his hand.

“I know.” When she finally accepted the facts—that there was nothing anyone could do—she’d spent a day crying. Grieving. “Please…just please don’t stop looking.”

“You know we won’t,” Vance said.

“Thank you.” She looked away for a second. “So what else?”

“Z and the other Masters have all called, wanting to make sure you’re all right. We’ve reassured them that you are.”

Hearing that the doms had worried warmed her. “Thank you. Anything else?”

“Marcus has called every day wanting to know how you are and where you are. Wanting your number.” Vance grinned. “He got pretty damned annoyed when I didn’t hand it over. But regulations say I need your permission. I assume you’re okay with it?”

She so didn’t want to see him. She’d said good-bye. If she’d had any lingering hopes, Jessica had crumbled them like dead leaves on a vine. She pushed her emotions into a box and shut the lid. “No, I’m not.”

Vance’s smile disappeared. “What?”

“My job is finished. I’m going to put this behind me, and I’d rather not have any reminders. Please don’t give him—or anyone—my information.”

“Marcus didn’t sound as if he thought everything was finished,” Vance said slowly.

Her eyes prickled with unshed tears. “He’s a nice man. I’m sure if you tell him I’m fine, that’s all he needs.”

Galen leaned back in his chair, his gaze intent. “I got the impression he cared more than that.”

“He’s very protective of his trainees.”

“I…see.” Vance sighed. “Well, Gabrielle, the protective bastard isn’t going to believe us that you refused, and he’ll hound us. Would you mind calling him and explaining?”

The wish to hear Marcus’s voice again dissolved in the knowledge of what it would do to her. No more crying. “Sorry, you’ll just have to cope.” She pushed her chair back, needing to be gone.

Galen’s mouth tightened. “He deserves more than being blown off, Gabrielle. The man risked his life for you.”

Guilt stabbed worse than the pain in her ribs. But Marcus didn’t really want her; they just didn’t understand. She said in an even voice, “I know he did, and I’m very grateful.”

“Gratitude, hell.” Galen tossed a piece of paper and a pen across the table. “You write him a note explaining, or I’ll give him every number we have on file for you.”

She took a step back, feeling as if he’d slapped her.

His black eyes were cold. Implacable. “Do it now.”

You bastard. She shoved her tears down. “You know, any resemblance between you and a human being is purely coincidental.”

“I’ve heard that.” He rapped the table with his knuckles and pushed to his feet. “Leave it here and I’ll see that he gets it.” He turned to Vance. “We’re due in Benton’s office now.”

Vance nodded.

Galen limped to the door, glanced back once. “Be well, Gabrielle.”

She looked away.

Vance hugged her. “We enjoyed working with you, Gabrielle. Take care of yourself.”

“You too.” As he walked toward the door, she cleared her throat. “He was only kidding about writing a note, right?”

Vance gave her a level look. “Galen never bluffs.”

On Saturday, Marcus stalked into the Shadowlands. A sub said hi, met his eyes, and backed away. He tried to be amused and failed. Thank Christ Z had assigned the trainees to Mistress Olivia for the rest of September, or he’d probably terrify them too.

The music from the dance floor reverberated through the room, the bass hitting his bones in repetitious blows. He nodded curtly as people greeted him, grateful the doctor had let him abandon the sling and he didn’t have to explain to every nosey parker how he’d been hurt.