He shrugs. “Len owes me a favor. But he’s family, so he’ll do it just because I asked.”
“You really don’t have to go to the trouble, you know. I’m capable of arranging my own vehicle repairs.”
“Never said you weren’t.” He glances at me, a grin at the edge of his lips. “Nothing I can do if you need a doctor or a lawyer, but if it’s a job for a cop or a mechanic or a first responder, ask a Noble and we’ve got you covered.”
Even though he says it like a joke, I can hear the family pride in his voice and it makes me smile. “Well, in that case, thank you.”
“No problem.” His attention returns to the traffic as we approach my block and the nineteen-story tower where my apartment is located. “Which building is yours?”
“The tall light-gray one between the two brick buildings.”
“Nice.”
It’s an understatement that’s not lost on me. The neighborhood is one of the best in Manhattan, and in this building even one-bedroom units start around seven figures. My two-story, three-bedroom on the tenth and eleventh floors is one of the most coveted spaces in thebuilding, if not the entire block.
“I bought my apartment as soon as my modeling started paying really well,” I explain. “Now, it’s all I’ve got left to show for my former career.”
“Looks like a good investment,” Gabe says as we roll to a stop at the curb. He takes off his sunglasses and drops them into the cup holder in the console where I’ve given him my Volvo’s key fob. “Parking?”
I glance at him in question. “You could just drop me off here.”
“I said I was seeing you home. In my book, that means seeing you all the way to your door.”
His expression is solemn, not that I really want to argue. No, what I want to do is lean across the seats and take the kiss his friend robbed me of. I can’t keep my gaze from straying to his stern mouth, and when I finally do, I see the stormy gleam of hunger in his darkened hazel eyes.
“Tell me where we’re going, beautiful.”
God, I wish I knew. If I didn’t think he would push me away, I would tell him where I’m really hoping we might go. Up to my bedroom. Into the backseat of his car. Anywhere that will mean feeling his hands on me, his mouth on mine, our bodies unclothed and moving together.
I’ve never been meek about sex, in spite of my current, lengthy drought in that area and my seemingly endless single status. I’m not shy, but I am choosy. And right now, everything female in me has chosen Gabe.
A tendon jumps in his jaw before he turns his head away from me to look out the windshield. “Is that the entrance for the garage?”
“Yes. It’s underground, just past the lobby doors.”
I point and he drives past the doorman on duty, taking us down to the gate at basement level. I give him my access code for the panel, then show him where my reserved space is.
“I’ll get your door,” he says, turning off the engine and not waiting for me to tell him that gallant gesture isn’t necessary, either. He’s at the passenger side in no time, holding his hand out to me as I exit the car.
The elevator lets us off in my private vestibule on the tenth floor. Gabe pauses behind me, waiting as I retrieve my apartment keys from my purse. “Would you like to come in?”
“For a minute,” he says, his voice a deep growl. “I’m curious to check things out.”
He enters my home and it’s as if I’m seeing it for the first time too. I watch Gabe take in the blond hardwood foyer and the large, neutral living room into which it opens. It’s airy and bright inside, with pale gray and cream furnishings, and two-story windows that draw in light and the multimillion-dollar views of the city.
To the left of my spacious living area and green space terrace outside is the entrance to the formal dining room and chef’s kitchen. To the right, my office and a library, plus a pair of guest rooms down the hall. Overlooking the two-story living area is open loft, accessed by an elegant, curving staircase that provides windowed views all the way up to the palatial master bedroom suite.
Gabe is silent as he strolls farther inside, his head on a swivel, his shrewd eyes drinking in every detail, searching every corner of the enormous space.
“You have a lot of windows.” He walks up to the tall glass, staring out at the buildings across the street before tilting his head down to watch the activity on the groundbelow. “No privacy blinds?”
I touch a switch panel on the wall and built-in, semi-opaque louvers pivot closed between the double-paned glass. “I prefer natural light. Plus, I never get tired of the view.”
“I can see why,” he says, pivoting to walk toward me now. He chuckles. “If you like light and views, you’ll never want to see my place. I rent an overpriced, undersized second-floor walk-up. One of my windows looks right into my neighbor’s kitchen. Another one has an unobstructed view of the dumpsters out back.”
I laugh. “I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
“No, it is.” He grins, pausing in front of me in the living room. “With my new promotion, I plan to get into a bigger place eventually. Something closer to headquarters, if I can swing it.”
