Scandal Never Sleeps

  He drew her down and prayed he could persuade her to give him more.

  • • •

  The next morning, Everly stared down at her phone and sucked in a shaking, shocked breath. Now she knew exactly how Pandora felt. She’d opened that box she wasn’t supposed to open and unleashed chaos on her world.

  “Hey, baby. Are you sure you don’t want anything more than coffee?”

  She darkened the display on her phone the minute she heard his voice. “No, I’m good. It’s too early for breakfast. I’ll get something on my way to work.”

  “All right. I’m going to take a quick shower. Then we’re going to talk, all right?” He appeared in the doorway, obviously comfortable with his nudity. “You sure you don’t want to join me?”

  “Sorry. I’ve got some really important e-mails from work. I should go.” After what she’d discovered moments before, she needed to run, not walk, back to Brooklyn.

  He was Gabriel Bond. She’d spent the weekend with aeronautics tycoon Gabriel Bond. He was a multi-billionaire playboy. She hadn’t needed to dig very deep. All she’d had to do was Google pilot, Creighton Academy, and blond man. The search engine had spit out more details than she’d been prepared for. Entire websites were devoted to his love life. He dated models, actresses, and gorgeous socialites. He absolutely did not have a fling—much less a lasting relationship—with a cop’s daughter. She didn’t even comprehend the world he moved in. Worse, she’d read another piece of horrifying news: Maddox Crawford had been his best friend. That explained why he’d been in the bar on Friday night. He’d attended the funeral, too. Everly wondered how she’d ever explain her connection with Maddox to Gabe?

  It was easy; she wouldn’t. He’d said himself that he wasn’t the same man outside this room. She wasn’t the same woman. And obviously she’d lost her mind, spending an entire weekend naked with a man who only shared his sheets with the most beautiful women in the world.

  He strolled back in carrying his cell phone. “This is ridiculous. I’m not going to let you simply walk away. Here, give me your number and I’ll call you. I’ve got a ton of stuff to do today, but maybe we could have dinner later this week.”

  She took the phone from him and looked down. Eve. He’d already started the contact with that name. He had no idea Everly was her given name. Would he feel betrayed now by her white lie? Did it matter since he wasn’t the sort of man who would stay with her forever?

  He stared, waited. His anticipation dissipated. He scowled. “You don’t want me to call, do you?”

  Everly paused. It would be smarter if she didn’t but . . . could she really stay away?

  She was about to respond—she wasn’t really sure what she planned to say—when she heard a firm knock on the door.

  “Put your number in. Please.” Gabriel leaned over and kissed her, as if adding a little sugar to sweeten the pot. “That’s probably the coffee service I ordered. Look through the menu again. I know you said you had to leave but I would feel better if you ate something. I’ll be right back.”

  She watched him walk toward the living area, unable to take her eyes off how fine and taut that bare backside looked.

  He turned at the door, snagging a robe from the closet and tossing the second one her way. “Slip this on. I fully intend to tip the delivery guy, but he doesn’t get to see you naked. That’s for me.”

  He winked at her, then headed for the door. As Everly belted the robe, she heard the snick of the lock and the squeak of the door opening.

  She was such a coward, she thought, staring at that phone. She should input her number. When Gabriel came back, she would confess her connection to Maddox, admit that she’d violated their anonymity rule. He knew she wasn’t from his world and he hadn’t seemed to mind. Maybe she was making too much out of this worry. Maybe they would be all right.

  Or they would be a complete disaster. She needed to focus on keeping her job. Dating Gabriel Bond would likely be a roller coaster ride without a seatbelt. Everly wasn’t sure how long she could hold on. His glittering realm wasn’t something she could comprehend. Now that she’d seen picture after picture of the beauties he’d dated and probably taken to bed, insecurity rushed over her. Besides, he’d told her from the beginning he didn’t have time for a girlfriend. Sure, he wanted more sex, but that wasn’t love. In fact, that wasn’t anything beyond an erection and an orgasm. Okay, so he seemed to like her as a person, but that didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t wanted a relationship when he’d walked through this door. He probably didn’t really want one now. And how did she know this wasn’t an “I’ll call you” thing, an empty promise that would never come to pass?

  She didn’t . . . but Everly still took a deep breath and punched her number into the phone anyway. The ball was in his court. What was life without a little risk?

  “Gabe, my man, we need to talk,” a masculine voice said from the front of the room.

  She peeked through the doorway to find two tall men, both radiating power and impatience, striding into the room. One had dark, thick waves of hair he’d clearly tried to tame and wore a stylish charcoal suit. The other, a rugged guy with dark blond hair and a nick of a scar slashing down his chin, was dressed in dark slacks, a black T-shirt, and a windbreaker.

  “We’ve got trouble,” the impeccably dressed man warned.

  Everly’s stomach took a nosedive. It looked like her time in paradise with Gabriel was over.

  FIVE

  Gabe strode out the service entrance and climbed the ramp that led to the street, scanning his surroundings for photographers.

  “Dax is with the car,” Roman explained. “We’ll talk when we’re sure no one can hear us. You know, if you had answered your phone, we wouldn’t have had to track you down.”

  Connor shifted in front, hyperalert for any threat. He wore a light jacket, though it already seemed too humid for anything with long sleeves. On the other hand, Gabe supposed his CIA pal had more than one firearm to conceal. Sure enough, when Connor turned, Gabe caught a glint of metal under Connor’s arm. He was carrying. That wasn’t unusual, but his tense demeanor meant trouble.

  Gabe frowned. What had the two of them so keyed up? Foreboding gripped his gut.

  “We’re good.” Connor nodded. “Let’s go.”

  The secret agent emerged into the sunlight, jogging to the waiting limo before opening the door and gesturing them inside.

  Gabe nearly growled his frustration as he followed Roman. “You better have a damn good excuse for pulling me out of bed.”

  Roman hadn’t cracked a smile. He hadn’t made a joke or leered at Eve once. He was behaving completely out of character. “Oh, I have the best excuse of all. I’m trying to save your ass, man. And don’t blame me. Connor is the one who found it.”

  It? Gabe scowled. He needed to get his head in whatever the hell game they were already playing. Unfortunately, his brain was still replaying his time with the woman he’d left upstairs, and wondering how soon he could see her again. “What is this amazing thing Connor found?”

  “When we get in the car. Go,” Roman snapped.

  At this time on a Monday morning, plenty of people walked the street. Any one of them could be a photographer. Gabe knew the drill: duck into the car as quickly as possible. Instead, he turned and looked up at the hotel he’d left Eve in, wishing like hell he was still there with her.

  She’d barely been able to look at him after he’d told her he needed to go. She’d immediately nodded and agreed, and he didn’t need to be a genius to know she thought he intended to ditch her. There wasn’t a hell of a lot he could do about that now. He could say all the right words, but she wasn’t going to believe him until he called her.

  If, in fact, she’d given him the right number. After her hesitation, he wasn’t sure.

  Holding in a curse, Gabe bent and folded himself into the limo. His friends followed into the air-conditioned interior, closing the door behind them. Roman settled beside him on the black leath
er with a sigh. Immediately, the limo took off.

  “You said Dax was here.” Gabe sat across from Connor and speared him with a questioning stare, assuming they’d now have to wait for their friend.

  “I’ve got the wheel, brother.” The window between the front and the back of the limo buzzed down, and Dax nodded at him in the rearview mirror.

  “What the hell?” Had he left the navy for a career as a limo driver? “In all honesty, I’ve had more than enough crappy surprises this week. So if the three of you cooked up some elaborate practical joke that ruined my morning with Eve, I’m going to kick every one of your asses.”

  “In your shoes, I’d be pissed off, too. She was hot.” Dax expertly guided the car into the early morning traffic. “And you guys are safe to talk. I rechecked the car. No one’s listening. Unless the NSA has some new toys.”

  Connor shook his head as he reached into his briefcase. “No. We’re good in the limo when we’re moving. I seriously doubt the tabloids are chasing us with sophisticated listening devices.”

  “Don’t underestimate them,” Roman shot back. “And I’m not only worried about reporters. I’m worried about the police, too.”

  Gabe sat up a little straighter. They had his attention now. “Police?”

  Roman sat back, looking utterly exhausted. Now that he studied his old friend, Gabe could clearly tell that Roman hadn’t slept the night before, and nothing as pleasant as a woman like Eve had kept him awake. “Connor has a lid on our problem for now.”

  “But there’s no way this doesn’t get out—and soon. I got to this particular reporter, but she thinks her source had already sold copies.” Connor held the tablet he’d extracted from his briefcase. “She said she tried for an exclusive, but the seller wouldn’t give her one. I’ve got an associate doing his best to hunt down any other copies.”

  Gabe was starting to get angry again. “Copies of what, damn it?”

  “Of this.” Connor turned the screen of the tablet in his direction. “Recognize it?”

  Of course he recognized the dining room of Cipriani. He had lunch there all the time. The maître d’ was an old family friend. He knew there were hotter spots, but it had been a favorite of his father’s and had become a sentimental pick for him. Every time he sat there, Gabe remembered all the times his father had taken him and tried to teach him about the business. “Of course I recognize my table at Cipriani. Has eating scampi thermidor become a crime?”

  As the video started rolling, he realized exactly what event had been recorded, and his stomach took a deep dive. He could see himself, though only part of his face occupied the top left of the screen. The right side was filled with the back of a man in a gray suit, drinking a Scotch, his hands tapping on the glass with a nervous energy.

  “Oh, shit. This is my last meeting with Mad.”

  Roman nodded. “Someone must have recognized you. Or more likely, they recognized Mad. He was all over the tabloids the last few weeks of his life. I believe this was taken with a cell phone by someone sitting at the table next to you.”

  Connor shot him a disgusted stare. “You should have noticed.”

  “Turn that thing off.” He didn’t need a reminder of what had happened that afternoon. It played through his head all the damn time, like a never-ending nightmare. Well, except the last few nights. With Eve, he’d slept like a baby . . . when he hadn’t been inside her. This weekend he’d been able to forget that he was mourning Mad and the terrible way they’d ended a lifelong friendship.

  Despite what he’d told her about not having time for a girlfriend, he knew it wouldn’t be long before he gave in and dialed her number. If she’d given him a false one, well, he would find her anyway. He needed her. It was selfish to even think of bringing her into his crap right now, but somehow during the weekend they’d spent together, she’d become necessary to him. That was the truth.

  Roman took the tablet and flipped it off. “Obviously, Gabe was far too busy arguing with Mad to notice anything at all.”

  “Oh, it isn’t the argument that’s the problem. It’s the threats.” Connor stared at him like he was a suspect. “You threatened to kill Mad. You want to explain why?”

  He’d threatened Mad in numerous ways at that lunch. “Guys, I was angry about the lousy way he treated my sister. You know they dated a couple of months back. It ended ugly.”

  “I told you that was a mistake,” Dax supplied helpfully as he turned the limo.

  The green of Central Park was to his left, the site of his crime coming up on his right. The restaurant where he’d promised Mad that he would have revenge had a marbled front with a few small windows covered in crisp white drapes. He preferred the table that overlooked Grand Army Plaza. As a child, he would stare at the gold statue of Sherman while his father droned on about the importance of business. He stared at the façade of the building as they drove past.

  Gabe remembered that last fight with Mad vividly. Gabe had left him with the check and walked in the park for about an hour. He’d sat on a bench and known that all around him tourists and locals were enjoying the day, but he hadn’t seen it. He’d only seen his friendship with Mad crumbling. He’d been so brutally, violently angry, and if he’d had the chance in that moment, he might have choked the life out of his best friend.

  But he hadn’t had the chance. Later that evening, after Gabe had cooled off a bit, he’d driven out to the airport to talk to Mad again. Unfortunately, he’d missed the plane taking off by seconds. He’d thought he would have more time for everything to work out.

  Instead, Mad’s plane had gone down.

  “We all know he broke up with Sara in a nasty way.” Roman used the same soothing tone he took on the Sunday morning news shows when butting heads with the opposition. Roman Calder was known as the pundit whisperer. He could calm the most ferocious mouthpiece for any lobby or special interest with the sound of his voice—and very tight logic.

  Gabe had no interest in being calmed. His friends didn’t know half of what had transpired. “He dumped her via text, and two hours later he was strutting down the red carpet with a blond actress, bragging about their fabulous sex life. Do you have any idea how that made Sara feel?”

  “I can imagine.” Connor crossed one leg over the other and sat back. “But you knew what Mad was like when you let him date her.”

  “He wasn’t like that with her.” That fact baffled Gabe most. “He was . . . perfect with Sara. He’d seemingly matured and stopped drinking so much. Hell, he even seemed to have given up other women and stayed home with Sara every chance he could. We went out to the Hamptons and didn’t leave the house for a week. They seemed so happy.”

  “Sara is beautiful and kind,” Dax said, his voice low. “She’ll be fine, Gabe. Hell, she’ll probably find a good man and get married in the next couple of years and forget all about Mad.”

  “She can never forget about Mad, damn it. He made sure of it. That’s the fucking problem.”

  “Sara’s pregnant, isn’t she?” Connor said, his eyes narrowing. “That’s why you were so blazingly pissed in that video. Mad got Sara pregnant and dumped her.”

  Damn. He hadn’t intended to tell anyone, but Connor had always seen too much. “Less than a week after she told him, yes. Sara finally admitted it to me the morning of that lunch. Keep that information quiet.”

  Roman slapped at the door, his calm demeanor fleeing in an instant. “There will be no fucking way to keep this quiet, Gabe. Not once that tape gets out. And if there’s any question about who you’re threatening, I’m sure the police can drum up a witness or two to come forward.”

  Confusion was starting to make his head pound. “The police? Why the hell would they care who saw me threaten Mad that day? Mad’s plane crashed. Capitol Scandals’s claims aside, it was an accident.”

  Connor held up a copy of the morning’s paper. “Not according to the Times. We’ve gone past the tabloids, brother. Real papers have picked this story up.”

  The
headline jumped out at him in black and white, sending him reeling.

  BILLIONAIRE’S CRASH DEEMED SUSPICIOUS

  “Oh, shit,” Gabe muttered as the implications fell into place.

  “You don’t even want to know what the other papers are saying,” Roman explained with a sigh. “Apparently the FAA has found some trace chemicals that shouldn’t have been there and say it’s evidence of an incendiary device on the plane. The working theory is that someone left a timed explosive on his aircraft.”

  Gabe’s whole body went cold. Mad had been murdered. “They’re going to think I killed him.”

  “Well, you did mention ending him on that tape. More than once,” Dax threw in. “We’re two minutes out, boys.”

  “Now I’m glad I’m staying in the city for a few days because of that damn fundraiser.” Roman straightened his tie. “Zack had to go back to DC, but while I’m here, I’ll do everything I can to help keep this tape out of the press and the hands of police.”