Fraud

Ivy

Gabriel stares back at me with an evil glimmer in his green eyes. The son of a bitch has me cornered, and he knows it.

How he even accomplished this, I have no idea, but I’ve been cut off entirely from the means to walk out of this hotel on my own.

My father was so angry that he could barely formulate a well-structured sentence when I called him. All he told me is that I need to grow the hell up, stop being a fuck-up, and good luck getting home.

To say I was in shock is an understatement. Not once has my father stranded me somewhere, and despite my argument about how dangerous it is, he cut me off and wouldn’t hear it.

He told me to have my fiancé solve the problem since I’m threatening his career with what I’ve done.

I had absolutely no fucking idea what he was talking about, and he wouldn’t explain regardless of how many times I demanded it.

But I do know it has everything to do with the co

The thing I said about killing him? Totally going to happen, just as soon as I figure out this clusterfuck of a situation and fix everything he’s done.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ll figure this out.”

“Will you?” He grins at that, his eyes twinkling with more evil.

I can’t stand the victory written into his expression, the self-assured arrogance that covers him like a shroud. This is so far beyond what I did to him that it should have been off limits.

Destroying each other’s property?

Yes, we’ve done that.

Public embarrassment?

Sure thing.

Semi-permanent body alterations?

Been there. Done that.

But bringing our families into it? Oh, hell no. That is a line we drew in the sand many years ago, and Gabriel has now traipsed all over it.

Neither of us were raised in the most understanding of families, and it’s a line that should never have been crossed.

Even if I owe a price for the favor Ta

He shifts his posture, releases my shoulders and tucks his hands in his pockets, the devil may care expression on his face pissing me off more.

“Tell me how you plan to get home without any money to your name. Or for that matter, how you plan to get as far as the airport. Will you walk there with the thirty bags you have with you? Maybe stow away in the cargo section to catch a flight home. Please tell me. I’m dying of impatience.”

My eyes narrow so much that I’m staring at him from behind tiny slits.

“Involving our families is off limits. And it’s only seventeen bags, thank you very much.”

“Oh, excuse me for miscounting, and says who?”

The humor in his voice is insanely aggravating. “Also, what makes you think I had anything to do with this?”

“The fact that you’re here,” I answer, throwing up my arms because it’s better than decking him right here in front of witnesses.

Knowing this jerk, he hopes I’ll physically attack him just so he can toss my ass in jail for assault and make me beg him to bail me out.

Shrugging a negligent shoulder, he cants his head.

“I’m simply trying to help out an old friend. Shall we go now? Or would you like to keep delaying the inevitable?”

My voice drops to a dangerous growl.

“I am not your old friend. I have never been your old friend. And I’m fairly certain at this point that I never will be. So drop the act. It’s tiring.”

Stepping closer, he leans down just enough that he can whisper to me.

“Sweetheart, I haven’t begun to tire you out yet. I plan to run you in so many circles, you’ll beg me to stop.”

I hate the way my body shivers at his close proximity, at the sexual undertone in his voice despite the horrible promise he’s making.

And it is a promise.

Gabriel doesn’t make empty threats.

When he says he’ll do something, you better believe it will happen.

That’s the one thing he doesn’t lie about.

Ever.

I can’t lose my head over this, can’t give in and let myself be knocked off balance. That’s what he wants from me because it only makes me an easier target.

Dragging in a steadying breath, I tilt my chin and cross my arms over my chest. It takes effort to control my voice, even more so to keep from scraping my nails down his pretty face.

“Fine. I guess you win this round.”

His brow cocks, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

“But that means nothing in the long run.”

Another twitch of his lips.

“Are you pla

“I would never do that. You’re so helpless and unable to take care of yourself that I would be a complete bastard to leave you all alone.”

Rolling my eyes at that, I smile back. “Such a gentleman.”

“Only for you,” he says, his eyes dropping to my mouth and back up again.

The amount of anxious heat in his stare is staggering.

Rounding my shoulders, I relax my posture and decide to deal with this on my home turf.

As soon as we get back, I can go to my dad, explain that this is all a horrible mistake and get my life back again.

Once that’s accomplished, I’ll leave the country and live like a vagabond in some third world country if I have to just to escape this evil jerk.

Behind him, the elevator dings, and I see a valet bringing my bags out on a rolling cart, my gaze cutting back to Gabriel.

“Let’s go.”

Pure triumph is in his eyes, the truth of it slapping me in the face.

Still, this game is not over. Not by a long shot, and as soon as I gather my bearings, I’ll find an inventive way to strike back.

Gabriel steps forward again and places a hand on my back to show me to the front door. My body tingles at his touch, yet every muscle tenses as well because allowing him anywhere near me is just asking for a nightmare.

Escorting me through the door and out into the sunshine of a warm Miami day, Gabriel tips the valet for bringing my bags and then waits for his car to be brought to the curb.

After packing my bags into the car, he opens the front passenger door, smiling at me while waiting for me to climb in.

On as steady a voice as I can manage, I say, “I’m surprised you’re letting me ride up front. I thought your style would be to tie me up and lock me in the trunk.”

He laughs at that. “As I recall, that’s more your style after stripping me naked beforehand.”

My eyes lift to his as I buckle my seatbelt, the spark that is always present between us still there despite how much I hate him.

Gabriel must feel it, too, because his eyes run down my body, taking their dear, sweet time on the tops of my thighs where my skirt has ridden up to show more skin.

Shaking himself of the fascination, he shuts the door and rounds the front of the car, not saying a word as his foot hits the gas and we pull from the parking lot out onto the road.

We spend the next few minutes traveling down the road in uncomfortable silence. Every so often, I glance Gabriel’s direction, my hatred of him only increasing with each look.

More of what my father said plays through my head, my initial shock subsiding enough for me to consider the events that occurred.

“Are you going to tell me what you did?”

The corner of his mouth curls at my question, but he keeps his eyes fastidiously on the road. Most people might drop the topic at this point, might accept their defeat and move on.