Chapter Two: A Glass Building?
1867 Words
Chapter 2
THE lobby of the hotel was cool. A wonderful feeling after driving in the hot sun most of the day.
Damien headed toward reception and handed the voucher to the woman behind the desk. Dark haired and olive skinned, she batted her fake eyelashes at him as she handed him the key cards. "Your rooms are adjoining, and on the tenth floor.”
Taking the key cards, Damien noticed her flirting. He chose to ignore it. "Great! Thanks!" He picked up the two duffel bags and followed Gabrielle to the elevators.
"A shower is much needed," Gabrielle said, once in the elevator. "I'm sticky."
Damien looked down at her, noticed her gripping the railing behind her. She had a death grip on the wood. He silently wondered at it. Oh, and he really wanted to say something in response to her remark, but stopped himself. "What shall we do for dinner?" he asked her instead. "I'm buying."
She eyed him, contemplating the choices. "Something yummy," she said at last.
He laughed. "That could be anything! What sounds good to you?"
"Hmmm," She screwed up her mouth, "The Brew Pub is across the street," she suggested.
"So it is," he smiled at her. "Brew pub it is, Ah, that means I can have a beer!"
Gabrielle sniffed. "What? Don't I get a beer? I like beer."
He raised his eyebrows at her. "Yes, I know you do." He winked at her. "Order what you want, Gabs. As I said, I'm buying." He then noticed her mouth screw up and thin. s**t. He had gotten so used to calling her that just to needle her, that it was said automatically now. "Sorry," he apologized. "Gabbie. There. That better?"
A smile tugged at the corners of her pretty mouth as the elevator opened. "It's... okay," she said quietly. She then grabbed her duffel and stepped out of the doors with haste.
Damien watched her dash off the elevator. What the hell was that about? Shrugging, he picked up his own duffel and followed her.
Minutes later, as Damien pulled off his shirt, he was trying not to be aware that Gabrielle was just next door getting undressed, slipping into the shower naked. The thought of her naked made him even harder, gave him the urge to open the connecting door and go to her. To take her right then and there. "f**k me..." he groaned to himself, unbuttoning his cargo pants. Cold shower it is.
On the road trip to Albuquerque, he had purposely kept conversation to a minimum. He hadn't wanted to say anything that would piss her off, and he tried to refrain from using that hated nick-name he'd adopted for her. Yet, he had slipped up twice and said it. He had mentally kicked himself for doing that, but he had also noticed she didn't complain about it as she usually did. And that was the thing. He did not want her angry with him while they were on this case. He wanted her focused. If she spent her time pissed at him, they couldn't do what was needed to help her sister. Charles Van Ness needed to be caught. And stopped. Gabrielle, angry with Damien just wouldn't do; Which is why he offered to buy dinner. He wanted to be in her good graces, wanted things to be easy between them. He wanted…
Oh, he knew what he wanted. He’d wanted it back when they were stationed in Afghanistan two years ago. But after they’d been through hell and back, he eased up on pursuing her. He respected her too much to f**k her and leave her. Gabrielle is not a one night stand kind of woman, either, you asshole. She's not even a f**k buddy. Get a hold of yourself. She was a classy woman who deserved much more.
Idly, he wondered if he could be that something more. Be what she needed, wanted. He had wanted to be that guy for her, was it a possibility now?
f**k. I want her. After all this time… I still want her.
Damien cursed softly as he stepped into the shower, his c**k standing to attention. How easy it could it be to just take care of his needs with his own hand, or take the pretty little receptionist up on her audacious flirting. But no, he wouldn't do that. Frivolous he may be, but he wasn't that care-free.
Grabbing the soap, he began to lather up. He stood there in the shower stall under the cascading water soaped up from head to toe, trying his hardest to ignore his d**k twitching non stop at the mere thought of beautiful Gabrielle. f**k! f**k!
What the hell is wrong with you, you sonofabitch?
That was a stupid question. Because he knew exactly what was wrong.
He'd been carefree with his life, and women. He hadn't let himself get too close to a woman for years. Not since Rebecca…
Oh, he knew what was wrong with him.
Or should he say who?
And that who was a gorgeous five foot four, strawberry blonde in the adjacent room.
They sat at one of the patio tables, with their beers, waiting for their dinner. Damien had been true to his word and let her order what she wanted. It ended up being a medium rare steak, baked sweet potato, salad and a plate of taquitos as an appetizer. It all sounded good to him, so he ordered the same for himself.
He watched her take a slug of her beer in a way that sent all the blood rushing south, again, into parts unknown. As he mentally had a conversation with his aching c**k and balls to calm the f**k down, he felt his phone vibrate. Pulling the device out of his pocket, he swiped at the screen. "Brett's found out something."
Gabrielle looked up from her taquitos. "And?"
"Apparently, Charles is a slippery son of a b***h," he grunted. He took a drink of his beer. "A few leads, but nothing concrete."
"Figures," Gabrielle muttered.
Damien's phone rang -- a hard rock tune -- and he put the call on speaker. "Talk to me."
"The asshole doesn't exist," came Brett's voice. "He has no known address, phone number or social security number."
Gabrielle wrinkled her nose. "Really? Surely he has a Smartphone?"
"Not that I could find."
"Maybe Charles Van Ness isn't his real name?" Damien offered.
"That could be, or maybe it's his surname that's an alias," Brett acknowledged. "However, he is here, in the 'Burque."
Gabrielle and Damien looked at each other. "And you found this out how?"
Brett chuckled. "The jerk likes to set himself up as a well-to-do bastard, that's how." He sniffed. "It seems he likes to hob-nob with the elite."
Gabrielle nodded. "That sounds right, Christiane said that was so."
Damien snorted. "So, he's a f*****g dandy?" he said with disdain.
"Yep," Brett chuckled again. "There's a Charles Van Ness mentioned in the society pages of the Albuquerque Journal, Tribune and the Santa Fe newspapers."
The waitress suddenly appeared with their dinner. After setting the plates down and offering more beer, she left.
"Anything recent?" Gabrielle asked once the waitress was gone.
"Yeah," Brett replied. "Seems he's connected with an Albuquerque business mogul, Gerald McGeorge." They could hear him flipping through papers. "He's been sighted with him at several art galleries, wine festivals, the mayor's galas as well as the governor's. Wherever the rich and elite hang about, that's where he'll be."
"Really?" Damien asked, setting his napkin in his lap. "And do you have an address for this Gerald McGeorge?"
Interlude:
Charles didn't want to have to resort to violence, but he would if he had to. Christiane was his, and his alone. She belongs to me. She is my possession.
But, this cat-and-mouse game she was playing was getting annoying. He had finally traced her to a small apartment on Zuni Road, only to find she was no longer there. So, now, he was back to searching for her whereabouts.
It was making him extremely angry.
She was, he felt certain, taunting him.
Daring him to find her.
He was not amused by that challenge. As if she even has the right to challenge me.
And, yet... the very idea of a challenge intrigued him. Why, the very idea seemed delicious, made him hard, aroused.
An evil grin came to his face as he drove away from the apartment.
Oh, he had the perfect way to lure her out...
THE building loomed over the West Mesa side of Albuquerque, glittering in the summer sun. Gabrielle saw it even before they left Central Avenue to get to Coors Boulevard.
An extremely tall, glass building. Yes, glass.
They had left the hotel at eight-thirty the next morning, went to the SKULL Headquarters, then left a bit later to a meeting Brett had set up for them with Gerald McGeorge. Gabrielle had expected a lot of things from this visit, but not a twenty-five story glass building.
She snorted. "That is either a very sturdy building, or it's very stupid to have it there," she remarked.
Damien's shaded eyes glanced at her. "I call it f*****g stupid. Who the hell builds a glass high rise in the f*****g desert?"
Gabrielle snickered at that. "True. But I was referring to where it's built."
Damien steered the Dodge Ram onto Dennis Chavez Road. "You mean the volcanoes?" He braked at a stop light. "They're inactive."
"Yes, but get a good earthquake..."
"True, it is on a fault line." He set the truck into drive when the light turned. "Let me guess, science geek?" He grinned at her.
She lifted her chin. "You got me, I love science. I also read." She slid a glance at him. "You do know what that is, don't you?" she teased.
Damien's mouth pouted as he drove. "Why does everyone always assume I don't read?" he mumbled.
Gabrielle stared at him, his stubbled jaw tensed. A pang of regret went through her; she'd hurt his feelings. She hadn't meant to do that.
Because I care whether or not I hurt him. That thought shocked her.
"Uhmm," she managed sheepishly. "I was teasing."
His mouth was still thin, but he seemed to accept her words. "I do read, you know." he said sourly. He steered around a bend in the road. "My GPAs were very high. Had to be, or I couldn't join the Marines." A quirky grin came to those lips. "My Dad made sure that Sean and I had very good grades. Whether we joined the military or not."
And, just like that, he was over it. That ability of his never ceased to amaze her. She stared at him for several moments. "I just didn't mean to hurt your ego, that’s all," she said softly.
He glanced at her. “You’re still worried about my ego two years later?” He chuckled a bit. "Yeah, I know you were teasing," he said, pulling the truck onto a smaller side road that wound its way around the imposing building. "No worries," he said, still grinning.
Happy he was not angry with her, she glanced up at the tinted glass. "Well, at least the glass is tinted," she quipped, changing the subject.
Damien let out a chuckle. "It's still a stupid, f*****g building!" he sniffed. "Who the f**k does this guy think he is? One of the sheiks in Dubai?"
Gabrielle was giggling. "Since he does business with some of them, I guess it's no surprise. At least, that's what Brett found out."
- Writer
