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After giving Gabrielle a tour of his 80 million dollar, 60-room, contemporary-style mansion, they ended up in one of Hugh’s several dens.
“Make yourself at home.” He brightened the lights with a control box on the wall then pushed a button and spoke into the little speaker, “Manual, would you bring up a bottle of Dom Perignon and some chocolate-covered strawberries, please?”
“Would you like the dark chocolates ones or the ones in white chocolate?”
Hugh turned from the control box. “Gabrielle?”
She lost herself in the sensuous tone of the vibrant blue and white color scheme accented by hints of silver. “Isn’t Dom Perignon and chocolate strawberries too much for this occasion?”
He raised an eyebrow. “No.”
“White chocolate.” She clasped her hands behind her back.
Hugh gave the order to Manuel then joined Gabrielle. “I take it you like this room?”
“It’s beautiful.” She admired the way the careful placement of the turquoise pillows and accents made the plain, white furniture more elegant. “Is blue your favorite color?”
“Why you ask that?”
“Because it’s all over your house.” She chuckled and wandered to the wall art nestled in black picture frames.
“Blue is sexy.” He stood in behind her as she gazed upon an abstract photo. “I love surrounding myself with sexy things.”
She turned, her breast brushing him because he was so close. “Does that go for women too?”
“You tell me.”
Manual brought the wine and strawberries on a shiny, gold tray. “Here you are, Mr. Macintosh.” He laid the appetizers on the white, cushioned coffee table. “Miss Montane, if there is anything you need please let me know.”
“Thank you.” She smiled at the stiff, mature butler who reminded her of Alfred from Batman.
Manual left and Hugh concentrated on Gabrielle. “You have any idea how good you look in those shorts?”
“I bet you’ve been wondering since I got here how to get me out of them.”
“Do I have a shot?” He pushed his hand up one leg, the tip of his fingers landing on her cotton panties. “Cotton? Would love to see what’s underneath.”
She smelled his sweat, joined with the aroma of fresh strawberries. “Hands off, remember?”
He let her go, smirking.
“Besides, if anyone knew what was under my shorts it’s you.”
“I’d still like to see.”
“I love chocolate-covered strawberries.” She got a fat one off the pile and bit into it.
“I know.”
“How do you know?” The tart sweetness from the strawberry possessed her palate.
“You said it in a magazine interview once.” He opened the wine and poured the amber liquid into the glasses then held one to her. “You said chocolate-covered strawberries were the closest you’d get to Heaven.”
She chuckled, chewing. “I’d forgotten I said that. That was a long time ago.”
His eyes pierced her as he sipped. “I remember everything you said in every interview.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it.” She sucked chocolate off her tongue. “You got me here. What now?”
“We’re supposed to get to know each other.” He sat on the white sectional by the floor-to-ceiling window, curling his leg underneath him. “I wanna know everything about you.”
“Thought you already did.” She hesitated before approaching the sectional. “Not sure I need to sit on your nice couch being all sweaty and musty.”
He straightened the turquoise pillows. “You can take a shower if you want and get a little more comfortable.”
“I don’t have a change of clothes.”
He dipped his forehead. “Like I said, you can take a shower.”
She scratched her leg, palms sweating more. “I’ll pass.”
He patted the space beside him. “Sit.”
She held her breath and sat beside him.
“Why are you nervous?” He propped his elbow on the edge of the couch. “I never want you to be nervous with me.” He bit into a strawberry, layering his tongue with chocolate. “I told you nothing will happen if you don’t want it to.”
It’s not you that worries me.
“The point of this is to relax.” He sucked the strawberry, and she imagined him sucking her nipple.
“Jesus.” She shook away the scandalous thought.
“You’re so tense, Gabby. You need a massage. My fingers aim to please.”
“No, thanks.” She looked out the window at the glimmer of the security lights caressing the grass.
“I know why you’re so uptight. You don’t trust yourself with me.” He held his glass to his thigh. “You’re afraid to succumb to your desires.”
Her stomach flip-flopped for the hundredth time since she’d agreed to stay. “Wrong.”
“I bet you have all these crazy thoughts running around in your head. Am I right? That’s how I am when I’m close to you.”
“Hugh.” She got another strawberry. “I’m not interested.”
“Yet you’re here eating my strawberries.” He wiggled his foot, the strings of his tennis shoes dangling. “What are you so afraid of?”
“You go through women as if they’re tissues. You see one you want and you pluck her from a shelf, use her up, and then throw her away damaged. Guys are so shallow.”
“No more shallow than women.”
“I’m not shallow.”
“Everyone is shallow to a point.”
She pointed to herself with the glass. “I don’t walk around thinking I’m better than everybody else.”
He held an enigmatic smile. “Society does that for you.”
“Excuse me?”
“Society makes life easy for you because of the way you look.”
“Easy?” She glanced at her strawberry in mid-chew. “Good you reminded me I’ve had it so easy because I sure as hell hadn’t realized it.”
“It’s a fact that attractive people get more opportunities and are treated better.” His gaze fell to her thighs. “Your beauty’s awarded you many blessings.”
“Hold on.” She turned toward him, extending her index finger from her glass. “I worked hard for everything I’ve gotten. No one handed me anything.”
“I didn’t say you didn’t work hard, but your looks got you where you are. You can’t deny that.”
“I don’t have to listen to this.” She stood.
He reached up, taking her wrist. “Not so fast.”
“Is this why you invited me here? To offend me?”
“Hear me out.”
She sat for the strawberries more than him at this point.
“All I’m saying is that your looks made you a famous model.”
“That doesn’t mean it was easy for me. It’s hard for a black model to make it mainstream. We’re held to a different standard than white models. People don’t see women of color as the face of beauty. Black women fight against that every day and not just in modeling either.”
“Yeah, but you got advantages that women not as attractive as you, no matter their color can’t get. Embrace it.”
“You’re missing the point.”
“I’m a good-looking guy.” He shrugged. “I’m not gonna act like that hasn’t helped me in life.”
She sighed, batting her eyes. “What’s the point of this conversation?”
“I want you to be confident in who you are and not apologize. In your interviews, you act like being beautiful is a curse or something to resent and you shouldn’t.” His gaze locked on her face. “Just how you affect men alone is profound.”
“When I first got into the industry, modeling agents said because I have a wide nose and big lips no way in hell would I get a contract.”
“I love those lips.” He sucked his bottom one. “I want those lips.”
“Hugh, I’m being serious.”
“Fuck what those idiots said, Gabby.” He threw up his arm. “You’re a supermodel. I bet those asshole agents regret not signing you.”
“It still hurts.” She swallowed away the pain. “Imagine me being sixteen and hearing that crap? It made me want to quit.”
“But, you didn’t.” He scooted closer. “You’re special, Gabrielle.”
“Modeling has been a desire of mine for so long.” She set her glass on the table and clasped her hands in her lap. “Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to be a model. I’ve built my entire life around it.”
“This is why I’m so glad you signed on with Iris. I wanted to give you back what you lost.” His fingers tickled her thigh, and at that moment, she wanted him inside her so much it hurt. “I wanted to prove that you still had what it takes because you’d doubted that.”
“That’s one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever said.”
“I mean it.”
“I know you do.” She got that sensation in her neck that always proceeded her arousal. “I...I can feel that you do.”
“Can you feel how much I want you in my arms? In my bed?”
“Not your heart?”
“Lady, you’ve consumed my heart to where there’s no room for anything else.”
“Hugh. We can’t.”
“You’ve been flirting with me all night.”
Gabrielle sipped wine, watching him through her lashes.
“See? You’re flirting right now.”
“I’m drinking. With your ego, if I threw up on you, you’d consider it flirting.”
“What about me sticking my hand up your shorts? You didn’t seem too bothered by it.”
“Maybe I wanted to see how far you’d push things, but I wasn’t about to give in.”
“Be honest with yourself.” His member protruded underneath his sweats. “Do you want to make love to me?”
Yes, yes. I do. Against all better judgment I sure as hell do.
“Why did I stay here and put myself in this situation?”
“Because you wanted to.” He sandwiched her hand in between both of his. “I’ve care about you for years. It’s why I can’t commit to a woman.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“It’s true. It’s always been you. I compare other women to you, and I’m never satisfied. I can’t keep going for substitutes.” He wrapped his fingers around the back of her neck. “I want the real thing.”
He kissed her.