Page 41 of The Price of Power
Gabriel shook his head, not willing to let me off the hook so easily. “You knew who I was,” he said. “Just not what I was.”
“Knowing someone’s name isn’t the same as knowing them,” I countered.
There was something about his dark, unforgiving gaze drilling into mine that made the clamor and chaos of the club seem to disappear around us. Even though the whole building was humming with a frantic kind of energy, Gabriel was the only thing I focused on. Everything else seemed to fade into the background.
Especially when that sinfully gorgeous half-smile lifted his lips.
“Don’t lie to yourself, Liv.” He raised his hand and brushed the back of his fingers down my cheek. “By the end of the night, you knew a lot more than just my name, didn’t you?”
Despite the suffocating heat inside the club, his suggestive tone sent a shiver straight up my spine. Suddenly, the memory of every wickedly wonderful thing he’d done to me in that private room replayed in my head, causing my face to flush with heat. I tilted my head down, trying to hide the reaction, but apparently not quickly enough.
“That’s what I thought,” Gabriel said with a laugh.
It wasn’t hard keeping my thoughts to myself after that. At least until Gabriel led me through the crowd to the VIP section—a roped-off area at the back of the club overlooking the dance floor. An attendant with long legs and lashes took us over to a sofa in the center of it all before giving Gabriel a seductive wink.
“Don’t hesitate to let me know if there’s anything you need, Mr. D’Angelo,” she said, slowly bending over to tidy the already pristine table and showing off her cleavage. With every move she made, her arm brushed against his thigh. “Absolutely anything.”
“We’ll start with champagne, Bianca,” Gabriel answered.
I couldn’t help but notice that his gaze never once flickered down from her eyes…not that I was paying attention or anything.
“Of course, sir,” she answered with only the tiniest bit of disappointment in her voice as she straightened up. “I’ll be right back with that.”
I waited until she was out of earshot before I muttered. “Well, she’s not the subtle type, is she?”
Gabriel pulled his attention away from the dance floor just long enough to glance at me. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, come on.” I rolled my eyes and didn’t bother hiding it. “I thought she was about to give you a lap dance right in front of me.”
The corners of his dark eyes crinkled slightly as a ghost of a smile flickered across his face. “Jealous, dolcezza?”
“No,” I snapped. “Of course not. You could have a Roman-style orgy with every woman in this place for all I care. Just so long as I don’t have to take part.”
For a moment, the dark depths of his eyes were lit up with a roguish sparkle. “So, you’re the kind that prefers to watch. Good to know.”
Even though I knew he was teasing me, for some reason, I couldn’t resist taking the bait. “No, I?—“
“No?” He cut in. “So now you want in on the orgy? Make up your mind, woman.”
My face was back to burning again, but this time, it didn’t have anything to do with embarrassment or shame. Apparently, all it took was a couple of minutes of talking to Gabriel for him to get my blood boiling. I would have thought I was smart enough to have figured that out by now.
When would I learn to keep my fool mouth shut?
Right after I got the last word, apparently.
“Screw you, Gabriel.”
“Right here and now? Because that can be arranged if it’s what you really want,” he said, leaning in closer to make sure I didn’t miss a single word. His tattooed hand slid over my bare knee. “For the right price, the manager of this place has been known to lend me his office for an hour or two.”
I couldn’t pretend to be surprised by his words, even as they shot a sizzling bolt of awareness through my whole body.
“Is there a place in Manhattan you haven’t fucked in?” I asked, trying my best to sound disgusted…and failing. “The confessional in St. Patrick’s Church, perhaps?”
That dead sexy smile of his only widened. “Do you really want to know the answer to that?”
“Absolutely not.” I shook my head hard enough to send my curls flying around my face, but I don’t think my fierce denial convinced either of us.
Because deep down, a desperate, buried part of me really wanted to know. Not just to listen to him tell the story and soak in all the deliciously dirty details, but to experience something like that myself. To throw caution to the wind and give in to all the sinfully devious desires I’d spent so much of my life tamping down.