Young Love Murder Part 8

"I did have the opportunity to meet Xavier Sanchez tonight. Are you positive that he's guilty, or is he just suspected of committing certain crimes? I wouldn't want to kill a man because a legal business rival hired us." I need to be sure before I hurt Gabriel in such a life-altering way. Standing across from me, Jackson's resting his arms on the back of the chair he was occupying earlier, waiting for the answer along with me.

Simon sighs on the other end of the phone. "Annabelle, you know I always double check what the client tells me. I'm absolutely positive that Xavier Sanchez is in need of a bullet to the head." He confirms what I already know deep down. Just by meeting Xavier, I could tell what kind of man he is. I've been around enough bad guys to know one when I see one.

"Thanks, Simon. Here's Jackson." I hand the phone over, getting up out of my chair to get a bottle of water out from the fridge. Jackson goes into his room to have a private conversation with Simon. Right now, I could really give a c.r.a.p what they're talking about. I know Jackson won't tell Simon what's really going on, at least not yet. We both respect Simon, but our loyalty to each other comes first.

The pounding on the suite door makes me jerk and almost drop my gla.s.s. This is getting embarra.s.sing. Whatever happened to my a.s.sa.s.sin nerves of steel? Knowing that it must be Gabriel at the door, I rush to Jackson's room and find him on the balcony. He's no longer on the phone with Simon, just leaning over the railing with the wind whipping his hair around. "Gabriel's here. I need you to hide."

"Okay, I'll stay out here." He plops down on one of the rattan balcony chairs, looking tired. I shut the sliding gla.s.s door behind me, leaving him to hang out on the balcony. I also shut the long curtains, blocking the view of Jackson out there.

When I open the door to Gabriel's pounding, I'm surprised that Max is with him. I smile at them, but Gabriel brushes right past me. "Where is he?"

"Where's who?" I play dumb.

"That Russian friend of yours." Gabriel walks into my room, coming back out seconds later.

"Why would he be here?" I ask Gabriel, putting a mask of confusion on my face.

Gabriel walks into Jackson's room and comes out. Thankfully he didn't check the balcony. "Why? Because he dragged you out of the club tonight and I need to kick his a.s.s for it!" Guess I was wrong in a.s.suming that Gabriel didn't see that happen.

I hesitate only for a moment before saying, "It was no big deal. He was just worried about me."

Gabriel scowls. "Worried about you? Why would he be worried? You were with me." That almost makes me want to smile, but I'm too stressed out right now. Max is quietly watching our exchange, looking amused.

"Because he's one of my parents' bodyguards." Jackson isn't gargantuan, but he's big enough for that to be believable. "That's how I became friends with him. Tonight he saw me hit that a.s.shole at the club and confronted me about it. Once he realized I was drunk, he became upset, knowing that I've never been drunk before. He went into bodyguard mode and dragged me back here," I explain it slowly, as if what I'm saying is totally logical.

"Why was he driving your car?" Gabriel questions me.

That's actually a good question, one that should have dawned on me to ask Jackson myself. I left my car at Gabriel's house tonight. I'd hope that Jackson wouldn't be crazy enough to retrieve my car off of the estate. But he must have either done that, just to see if he could, or he went and rented a car exactly like the one I'm currently using. If that's the case, he probably has plans to race me in his. Compet.i.tive idiot.

I have to make a quick decision on how to answer this. I go with the second theory, hoping it's the right one. "It wasn't my car. He just liked mine so much, that he went and got one of his own."

Gabriel looks skeptical, standing almost toe to toe with me now. "Your parents must pay their bodyguards well, that car costs over $450,000." As if I don't know that, silly boy.

"They sure do. Dependable, trustworthy employees are hard to find," I tell him, latching on to the explanation he gave me an opening for. Even so, lame answers seem to be my forte tonight.

Standing in front of me, staring at my face, as if searching it for the truth, he reminds me of Jackson earlier. He cannot read your mind, Annabelle, and you are a professional, so you better d.a.m.n well start acting like it! After a long moment, he takes a deep breath and pulls me into his arms. "I'm sorry for being a spaz. I was just worried about you, baby. When I saw him practically drag you out of there, I thought he might hurt you. Bodyguard or not, I'll probably kick his a.s.s for it the next time I see him."

"I'm sorry you were worried. I should have called you, but when I got back here, I wasn't feeling well from the drinks and just wanted to take a shower and lay down." I kiss him softly on the cheek, knowing how it always softens him.

"Why didn't you answer your phone?" he squeezes me gently.

"I turned it off earlier tonight while we were at the club. I was just about to call you." I pray to G.o.d that my phone doesn't start ringing.

Max finally speaks up, "Um, Gabriel? Do you need a ride home? 'Cause if not, I'm gonna head out." d.a.m.n, I hope I didn't ruin Max's night. That hooker nurse seemed like a sure thing.

Gabriel looks at me, whispering so Max can't hear, "After what I've gone through in the past hour, I need to hold you tonight. I think I'll stay the night here, or we could go to my house if you want?"

I don't know if I want to be at Gabriel's house, with his dad there or if I want to stay here, with Jackson here. "Let's go to your house. Just give me a minute to get dressed and pack a bag."

"Okay, baby." Giving me one more squeeze, he releases me and waits in the living room with Max.

Even though I'll be staying at Gabriel's house tonight and will probably have another opportunity to kill Xavier, I know that I won't go through with it yet. Because I also need Gabriel to hold me tonight.

Chapter 11.

Gabriel Leaving Anna's hotel, Max drops us off at my house. Anna's car is still parked in the driveway, so I guess that Russian jerk really does have the same car. She explained to me why he pulled her out of the club, but something still doesn't feel right about it. Anna's ent.i.tled to her secrets, but at some point I hope that she trusts me enough to divulge a few. Maybe she just needs to be softened up a bit. If I show her how much she means to me maybe she'll open up. It seems logical enough.

Once we're in my room with the door locked, she goes into my bathroom and comes back out wearing thin cotton pajamas. She plops down on my bed and I go into the bathroom to get ready for bed myself. When I come out, she's under the covers and lying on her side. I walk over and see that her eyes are closed. Brushing the back of my fingers over her cheek, I ask quietly, "Are you asleep, Anna?"

She opens her eyes, rolling over onto her back. "Not yet."

I grab her hand and kiss it, rubbing my thumb over her knuckle. "I'm going to cook you dinner tomorrow at my parents' beach house."

She gives me a small smile. I'm not sure if I imagine the sadness in it or if it's the play of shadows on her face from the muted lighting. "That sounds nice. Although I would be just as happy with the fast food we sometimes eat. I wasn't allowed to eat it growing up, too unhealthy."

"My cooking is better," I brag.

"Okay." She shuts her eyes and I lay down next to her with one arm draped over her. When she starts breathing deeply I know she's asleep. I think a romantic dinner is a good start in encouraging Anna to open up. Drifting off to sleep, I plan out the meal I'll make tomorrow.

We wake up the next day a little after noon. After dropping Anna off at her hotel, I go grocery shopping. I used to hang out in the kitchen with our chef when I was younger, before I had better things to do, but I did pick up some cooking knowledge. Getting back to my house, I climb the bas.e.m.e.nt stairs down to the wine cellar and pick a bottle out of my dad's supply. Later, up in my room I take a shower and put on a nice b.u.t.ton-down shirt and dark jeans. Looking for my mom afterwards, I find her alone on the back patio, staring out at the pool with an open book face down in her lap.

"Hey mom, where's dad?"

Her sad look answers before her words, "He left already, business in South America."

I feel awkward, never knowing whether or not to comfort her when she gets morose over his travels. He's never home, but she still loves him. That's dedication. I'm not so sure I'd have that kind of undying devotion to someone who didn't reciprocate it. "Well, I just wanted to let you know that I'll be staying at the beach house tonight."

She still looks lost in her own thoughts while she replies, "Okay sweetie, have fun."

I give her a quick peck on her sun warmed cheek and say, "I love you, mom," to cheer her up. My next destination is the kitchen. I grab the grocery bags from the fridge and put them in the backseat of my car. After I pull out of the gate I call Anna. She picks up on the third ring. "Hey babe, I'm on my way to pick you up."

"Okay, I'll meet you out front." She hangs up without saying goodbye. Guess she's as excited as I am. Maybe tonight, if she's ready . . . .

Arriving at the hotel, I pull up in front of the lobby doors where she's sitting on a bench with a duffel bag on her lap. She bounces over to the car, getting in with a bright smile. I'm glad to see that she's as excited about tonight as I am. As she's buckling up, I ask, "Have your parents found a place yet?"

She glances at me then away. "Not yet, but I think they're narrowing it down."

"I hope they buy a house near mine." I grab her left hand and kiss it, holding it in mine for a few seconds before releasing it to put the car into gear.

"Yeah, that'd be great," she mumbles, still not looking at me.

When we get to the beach house she offers to help carry the bags, but I just hand her the keys and ask her to unlock the front door. I follow her inside, asking, "So, what do you think?"

She looks around the modernly furnished beach house. In the center of the living room is a u-shaped couch in taupe suede and a chrome and gla.s.s coffee table. The couch faces a fifty inch flat screen with a gaming and home theatre system. "It's nice," she answers while looking out the large windows behind the couch that give a view of the beach.

"Yeah it is. Although, if I bought a beach house, I would skip the contemporary look and go with a more traditional one," I say over my shoulder while carrying the grocery bags to the kitchen.

"Me too. I have a small house on the beach in Italy. I mean, my parents do. It's decorated very traditionally." She follows me into the kitchen, done in stainless steel and maple wood, with a marble breakfast bar and countertops. The dining room table, also chrome and gla.s.s, sits in front of the sliding patio doors leading out onto the deck.

Giving her a tour, I show her down a hall that leads to two of the four bedrooms that surround the enclosed courtyard, with a tile pool built into the center. Each bedroom has French doors opening into the pool area for easy access.

"That's pretty," Anna comments about the large stone wall fountain that sits against the wall built to provide privacy from beach goers. It's kind of cool, I guess. Surrounding the fountain are tons of lush vines, orchids, bird of paradise flowers and Stargazer lilies. I remember how excited my mom was to decorate inside and out when they bought the place years ago. I helped the gardener plant the flowers while my mom was busy with decorating the inside. Like the inside of the house, the color scheme of the flowers is soothing creams, oranges, and yellows, giving the feeling of summer year round. At least that's what I remember the gardener saying at the time. Weird, I never really cared much for the details of the house, not until meeting Anna and wanting her to like it.

Over the next hour, as I prepare grilled chicken Marsala with fresh green beans and red roasted potatoes, to be complemented by a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, she watches me while we chat about school, music and movies. While she knows a lot of different types of music and recording artists, I'm surprised there are so many good movies she hasn't seen. In time, I'll show all my favorites to her. What's she been doing with her free time in the past? Maybe I don't want to know.

After dinner she says, "That was really good. Thank you, Gabriel."

Getting up, I walk over to where she's seated. "Do you want to go swimming?"

"Yes." She smiles at the idea and I show her to a bedroom where she can change into a swimsuit. I put on blue swim trunks in another room, thinking about her being naked just twenty feet away. Once ready, I wait for her out on the back deck facing the beach. A few minutes later, she joins me on the deck, wearing a black one-piece suit. The entire middle of the suit is made of a mesh material that reveals glimpses of her flat belly and curvaceous hips through the swirling pattern. The suit is held in place with a tie at her neck and back, exposing the long line of her spine all the way down to the small of her back and little bottom of her swimsuit. I devour her with my eyes, wanting to devour her with more. "You look gorgeous."

My eyes travel up to her face to see her smirking, obviously pleased with my appraisal. "So do you."

With a mischievous smile, she jumps off the deck into the sand and starts running towards the sparkling water. I actually have to make an effort to catch up with her, fast as she is. We both splash into the water and she dives under for a long time. I'm starting to get worried, until I feel something tugging at my shorts. Either a sea creature is getting frisky with me, or that's Anna. She slips them off of me, not that I put up much of a fight, and I dive under the water to look for her. It's impossible to see in the murky water so I shoot back up to the surface. How the h.e.l.l did she get my shorts off under there?

As I'm breaking the surface I hear, "Look what I have!"

I turn in the direction of her teasing voice and see that she's holding up my shorts in the air. "How did you stay underwater for so long?"

She laughs. I'll never get tired of that sound. "My Uncle Simon taught me."

This is the first I've heard her talk of an Uncle Simon. She usually changes the subject when I bring up her family. I start swimming towards her but she keeps dodging me. She's too fast a swimmer for me, and I grew up going to the beach regularly. She goes underwater again and I can feel her putting my shorts back on me. Wow, I've been turned on by a girl taking my clothes off, but this is the first time that I'm turned on by a girl putting them back on. Not that the girls ever dress me afterwards.

Before she can get away again, I reach my hands down into the water and pull her up against me. Pieces of her wet hair are plastered to her face. She floats up against me while I smooth her hair back.

"My turn." I grin diabolically, satisfied when her eyes widen.

I make a grab for one of the two ties keeping the top of her suit in place, but she quickly places the bottom of her feet against my chest and pushes backwards, away from me in a somersault-like motion. Once she's several yards away from me, she yells with laughter in her voice, "Only if you can catch me!" Little tease.

I try to catch her, believe me I do, but she's like a freaking mermaid in the water. Finally, I give up and float on my back, frustrated and defeated.

"Oh, poor baby can't catch me," she taunts. "How about I make it easier for you?"

With renewed interest in the game, I get upright in the water just in time to see her wet form leaving it and running up to the house. The sun is setting, so it's probably a good time to leave the water anyways. Swimming to sh.o.r.e, I chase after her. Once I'm in the house she's nowhere in sight. "Anna! I'm gonna find you!"

"I'm counting on it!" Her shouted reply comes from one of the bedrooms.

I grin and check the first room, she isn't there. When I get to the second, I find her leaning back on the bed, still only in the swimsuit that covers yet reveals so much at the same time, sand on her soles. G.o.d, this is better than when my dad gave me my Ferrari!

"Hola belleza." I lean on the bed, hovering over her, holding myself up with my hands placed on either side of her head.

She looks up at me questioningly, but gives me an impish smile. "Hola handsome."

I close the rest of the distance between our mouths and kiss her pa.s.sionately. The usual sparks fly behind my eyes, accompanied by the drug-like quality of her kisses. She wraps her arms around the back of my neck and pulls me down on top of her. Pulling one of her legs up, I wrap it around my waist. She wraps the other around me on her own. I start to tug on the tie at her neck. She doesn't protest, helping me untie it and the one in the center of her back. Pulling back, I look down at her. She bites her bottom lip and peels the swimsuit off completely then lays back against the pillows.

G.o.d d.a.m.n. "You are so perfect," I murmur. Opening the nightstand, I grab a condom, taking off my shorts and laying on the bed by her side. She has a look on her face that I've never seen before, vulnerable. Anna never looks vulnerable. I reach out and touch her face. "You have done this before, right?"

"No," she says softly, again chewing on her bottom lip.

Holy s.h.i.t! "I thought you said you did."

"No I didn't. I asked you if you'd believe that I was a virgin and you said 'No'." She touches my shoulder. "Hey, it's alright. I know a Madam in Paris who taught me everything there is to know."

"Everything?" I ask in disbelief. "Someday, you're going to tell me your life story, because some of the things you say make me wonder . . . ."

A strange looks flashes over her face, but before I can question it she pulls me down for another kiss. Liking her aggressiveness, I cup one of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, flicking my thumb. She moans and the next few minutes are filled with us touching each other with our hands and mouths. Some odd feeling runs through me, something I've never felt before during s.e.x. It takes a moment for me to put a name to it. Reverence?

I skim my right hand down over her toned stomach and rub her between her legs, making sure she's ready. When I feel that she is, I place b.u.t.terfly kisses on her neck, her eyelids and her mouth. "Ready, baby?"

She groans out, "Hurry."

I laugh and, sliding on the condom, position myself. With some apprehension, I tell her, "This will probably hurt."

She places her palm over my cheek, her eyes shining with unexpected humor. "Don't worry, Gabriel, I can take it."