White stars pop into my vision. I’m still a little dizzy. Nauseous. I lean back in the seat. Close my eyes.
“Miss. Miss.” The driver’s panicked voice swirls around in my mind.
A second voice breaks into the cloudy fog. This one is assertive. Confident. “I’ve got her.”
Strong hands slide beneath my arms, lifting me from the car. Leading me to the sidewalk. I grasp for his shoulders, steadying myself.
The sugar finally hits my bloodstream. I’m feeling better now. My gaze focuses on his face. He looks… familiar. I know him from somewhere. “Gabriel? Lord? From the gym?”
“Yes. That’s me.”
“I’m lucky you were passing by and saw me. I had no idea how I was going to get out of the Uber… can you help me to the lobby? I’ve got to meet someone.”
“A date?”
“Yes. And I’m late.”
His gaze is a warning. “I’ll forgive it. This one time.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m your client. And I hate delays. But this one time I’ll let it slide.”
He’s my date? The owner of Spynners? The man that chewed me out for not having an emergency contact number listed. I give a little involuntary shiver. Who knew stern could be so... gah... sexy?
He gives me a firm stare. “Miranda, what have you eaten today?”
“Not much…”
“After passing out in my studio, and being hospitalized, you still haven’t begun to take your health seriously?” His tone is stern. Borderline angry.
Maybe it isn’t so sexy. My hackles rise. What business is it of his? “I’m a busy woman.”
“Too busy to eat?” He raises a threatening brow, sending a little shiver down my spine.
I’m getting that nervous butterfly in my stomach feeling. I’m in trouble. “I just, got, you know…”
“Come. Let’s get you fed. A proper meal. And we’ll have ourselves a little chat.”
Little chat? He makes it sound like it’s code for something.
He takes my hand. Holds it tight as if to keep me from running off. Leads me through the lobby. We ride the elevator alone. His gaze roves over my body as we rise to the top floor. “Pretty dress.”
“Thank you.” Where’s my witty banter? My dry comments? I stand there, speechless.
“I’ll order for you.” He doesn’t wait for a response. The elevator doors open once more. He takes me by the hand, leading me into Opulence, the five-star rooftop restaurant Vegas, Baby is famous for. He breezes right by the hostess stand, to the outdoor seating.
There’s a table for two, already prepared. Champagne on ice. A basket of bread. A cheese sampler tray.
Damn. Is this the treatment my girls have been getting? I've been missing out.
He pulls out a chair for me. I slide in. A waiter comes up behind me, unfolding a napkin and spreading it over my lap.
Gabriel takes his seat. Catching the waiter's eye, he waves to the bucket of bubbly. “Take it away.”
No, wait! I watch in horror as my liquid courage is carried away from the table. “Are you sure? That looked delicious.”
He leans in. His gaze locks on mine. “Passing out. Not eating. Almost passing out again? I don’t need to be a doctor to know that the last thing you need right now is champagne. What you’re having is a healthy meal with some protein.”
The waiter returns. Before I can protest, he’s ordered for both of us. Grilled trout on a bed of greens and whipped potatoes.
My mouth is watering. I eat the food, and he nods with stern approval. When I’ve eaten half my plate, he nods again.
“Now. Tell me a little bit about yourself.”
I start with the basics. “I’m originally from California. I moved to Nevada. Put myself through college…”
My rattling off vague details of my life trails off as I begin to wonder…
Was this booking just a coincidence? I think not.
Yesterday morning, Mr. Lord came to the hospital. I receive an urgent text from Sam, telling me we have an emergency and I have to take a booking. The next night I’m sitting across from him.
I give him my own hard stare. “Let me ask you something. How did you come to hear about Sugar Daddies? We’re a very exclusive, discreet organization.” I wrap my hand around my water glass, wishing it were wine.
I expect him to fluster. To look away. To make up an excuse.
He does nothing like that. “After you were injured, I looked you up. Found out what you do for a living. And that you’ve never taken a client.”
“And then?”
He looks me dead in the eye. “I made damn sure I’d be your first.”
My first.
He has no idea to what ridiculous degree his statement is completely accurate. “How did you work it out with Sam?”
“Your office needed a new HVAC unit. Those don’t come cheap. And just between you and me and Sam, I don’t think Sugar Daddies Escort Service could afford a new one on their own.”
Heat rises in my cheeks. So, he already knows one of my secrets—though we are doing well, I spend the majority of our income on my employees’ salaries. Sam knows. She was in on this deal, booking me and getting every penny she could out of it to help boost our office maintenance funds.
Smart. If I wasn’t so pissed at her right now, I’d text her to tell her how proud I am of her.
“Five grand. Just to be your first client. I’m still happily paying your fee.”
Five grand, just for the booking. I never thought to ask what amount Sam had negotiated for this evening. My throat feels dry, tight. I take a sip from my water glass. “How much?”
“Twenty grand a night. She said you’re worth it.”
My eyes widen in shock as I choke back my drink. He hands me a napkin. That’s going to pay for the Blue Lagoon, the food, the alcohol, the band… all of it, everything Lexi is dreaming of for her big day.
“That’s… generous of you.” And fucking brilliant of Sam. I swear that woman could hold her own working for the mafia.
This is the perfect moment to come clean. To use my other little secret to my advantage. I lick my lips. Lower my lids. Sultry up my voice. “And… I am worth it. You know why?”
“I’m listening.” He stirs in his seat. I can imagine him getting hard under this table, his cock easy prey for my seductive ways.
Who says you have to be experienced to be sexy? “There’s a reason my fee was so high. A good one. The same reason I’m wearing this lovely, white dress.” My fingertips slide to the thin sleeve and I slide it down my arm, baring my shoulder, exposing the upper curve of my breast.
He leans in further. “Do go on.”
“Can’t you guess?” My voice is a whisper.
Desire lights his eyes. “Tell me.”
“I’m a virgin.”
Chapter Five
Gabriel
“Oh my goodness. Gabriel? Do you need help?”
I’m choking on my glass of water, sputtering like a goddamn fool. Miranda gets up, wobbles on her five-inch-strappy silver stilettos and whacks my back, trying to revive me. A wide-eyed waiter hands me a glass of water, and moments later, I’m finally breathing normally again.