“How do you know Rhys picked these out?” she asked, unable to stop herself.
“I have several clues. A, he’s a dom. B, he’s got European class. And exhibit C.” She held up a crimson lace thong to match the gown. “Dev says when he runs an op, Rhys doesn’t skimp on the details. Apparently, that includes underwear,” she added dryly.
A sudden jolt ran through Gaby. She wasn’t ready for how intimate this felt, or how much it echoed the way he’d touched her last night, or how her body reacted.
No. She couldn’t do this. Not now.
“I need air,” she whispered, whirling and practically bolting for the door.
“Wait. I was teasing,” Cari called, all humor fading.
Gaby whirled back, covering her warm cheeks with trembling hands.The room felt too small, the air too warm, and every breath tasted like last night’s unfinished tension.“It’s not you. It’s… everything.”
Cari studied her, clearly debating her next move. Then she pulled out her phone. As she typed a quick message with notable speed, she announced, “Dev can survive lunch without me.”
“Oh, please. Don’t cancel for me.”
She dropped her phone back into her bag and looked at her, sympathy and understanding in her gaze. “Honey, you had a pile of couture delivered to your desk. Hand-picked by a man who clearly wants you.”
“He doesn’t,” Gaby said automatically, hating how thin her voice sounded.
“Of course he does,” Cari countered, sounding convinced. “Why he’s denying himself, and you, is the question. Everyone is talking about it.”
“Everyone? Dear God,” she groaned, closing her eyes.
Cari shook her head and clucked her tongue. “This is worse than I thought. And why I canceled the husband for an urgent girls-only lunch.” She looped her arm through Gaby’s. “Let’s get you out of here.”
They headed toward the exit together. As they reached the front lobby, the elevator opened, and Emily and Alec stepped out.
After taking them both in, Emily’s smile vanished. “What’s wrong? You two look like you’re escaping.”
“Nothing so dramatic,” Cari assured her. “We’re just heading out for lunch. Sometimes the testosterone levels in this suite can get to a girl."
She nodded in full understanding. “I’m starved. I’ll go with you.”
“Sweetheart,” Alec drawled. “We just came from a cake tasting.”
“Bad cake doesn’t count as lunch,” Em quipped.
“Unimpressed with this caterer, too?” Cari asked sympathetically.
Emily sighed. “Looks like I might have to make my own wedding cake and cater my own reception.”
“That’s not happening,” Alec stated firmly. “It’s our day, and I want your focus on me and making memories, not worrying if we’re going to run out of champagne and hors d’oeuvres.”
“I agree. It should be a celebration of you two, not work,” newly married Cari proclaimed. “Since you’re coming with us, we can problem-solve over quesadillas and margaritas.”
“I have to work this afternoon,” Gaby interjected.
“So do I, but I’m going anyway.” Emily turned to Alec, rose on tiptoe, and kissed him quickly but with warmth and easy affection. Alec smiled, completely besotted, thumb tenderly brushing her jaw.
Gaby’s heart wrenched at the love they shared unabashedly—a reminder of everything she wasn’t allowed with Rhys.
“Have fun,” Alec said. Then he glanced at the trio and frowned. “Just not too much. Maybe I should tag along to keep you out of trouble.”
“No need. I’ve still got my shadow,” Cari said, glancing at her watch. “Rafe is on today. He went to gas up the Durango while I stayed safe here. He should be back any minute now.” Her phone pinged. She glanced at the screen. “Speak of the devil. He’s waiting for me out front.”
Emily beamed up at her fiancé. “See. No worries. Rafe won’t let us burn the city down.”
