The Photograph
: Chapter Three

Gabe

It’s almost 10:00 when I park in the side driveway of Holloway. The first-floor lights are

on and Aelin’s car is parked on the side next to the old servants’ entrance. Yesterday, I walked on the site at six in the morning to talk with my foreman and she was already there, by herself, working in the main bedroom. I have to give her that, she’s got good work ethics.

We didn’t establish a specific date of completion for her and her team, but at this rate the house will be ready sooner than I expected, so I have to set things in motion.

Striding swiftly through the marble floor of the wide hallway, I climb up the grand stairs. Once on the upper level, I slow down on the darkened landing and head toward the path of light beaming from the bedroom’s open door. Her throaty voice cuts through the silent house, so I stop and slant my shoulder against the wall to listen.

“Yeah? I’m not sure Em … hmm mmm… It shouldn’t be so hard to get money from him, sweetie. I’m still at work but come over for dinner on Friday and we’ll talk. Okay. Love you, too.”

Christ, she’s even giving advice on how to fleece men.Apart from a few flirtatious glances and well-studied coy smiles, she hasn’t made a move. She’s obviously playing the long con.

Time to play you at your own game.I unclench my back teeth, push off the wall and enter the bedroom just as she taps on her cell before setting it on the floor beside her.

Seated crossed legged on the floor and bent down over a large piece of cardboard, she

hums along with the moody melody coming from her cell.

A stirring melody about heartache, stolen kisses in darkness, and promises not kept.

The bright lamp set on the top left corner of her makeshift canvas illuminates her face from underneath. With strands of her hair coming loose around her face, her eyes fastened on the blank piece of paper, and her arms outstretched, slowly tracing curves, she looks ethereal, almost otherworldly.

It’s Saturday night, why isn’t she out somewhere breaking some poor idiot’s bank account?

“Good evening—”

She screams. Her body jerks backward, and her shoulder slams hard on one of the white commodes we picked together.

I rush to her side. “Fuck Aelin. Are you okay?”

Rubbing her shoulder, she flashes her eyes at me. “What are you doing creeping around so late?”

I wanted to see what you were up to.I push on my knees, and when I try to help her up, she swats my hand away and kneels up. Her lips curve down as she looks at the floor. The black paint has spilled out and whatever she was working on is now a large smudge. After she snatches the corners of the sheets of paper and cardboard, she gets on her feet to toss them in a large box serving as garbage bin placed near the door.

Her face is flushed as she lifts her tight smile. “I apologize. It’s your house and… Sorry, you just surprised me.”

I edge slowly toward her. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I should have called ahead.” I point my chin at the box in the corner. “I’m sorry about that.”

When the beautiful manipulator shuffles on her feet, I dip my eyes on her pink painted toes she curls on the carpet. “It’s all right. I’ll do the stencil in my studio—”

As if my fingers had a will of their own, they lift to pinch a rebellious lock of her hair before I tuck it behind her ear. Her small gasp hovers between us as I brush my knuckles on her cheek, and I get hard. Sexiest mouth.

I need a taste.I wrap my hand around her nape and pull her on her toes while her lips part. The light bite of her fingernails as she grips my waist jolts me out of my trance and I shift back.

What the fuck am I doing?

Her hand flies to my chest. “Gabe?”

Clenching my jaw hard, I step back. “Sorry for startling you. Next time I’ll call ahead.”

“It’s all right, I—”

I stalk out of the room and head straight for my car.

Once at the penthouse, I lob my keys on the platter on top of the silver side table and

march to the open plan kitchen where I pull a bottle of bourbon from the black sleek cabinet beside the fridge and pour myself a generous serving. With my glass in hand, I settle on the leather sectional in the living room. I drop the back of my head against the cool leather and sweep my palm over my face.

I nearly fucked up tonight.Sitting up to put my glass on the coffee table, the picture the investigator took peeks out of the binder and teases me. She’s not supposed to be so damn sexy, barefoot with that stubborn strand of hair that falls over her golden eyes. And a mouth I want to bite, and lick. And fuck.

Next thing I know, I’ll be giving her money. Aelin Thorne, you might be fuckable, but I know how this game is played and I know what you are.

Stretching my neck from side to side, I stride to the terrace where I wait for the cool air to temper my anger. Then, I grab my cell. She picks up on the first ring.

“Kerry, I’m sending my driver to pick you up.”

An hour later, standing on the black rug of the second bedroom, I peruse the blonde naked woman laid on the bed. After curling the silky rope around my hands, I bind her wrists together on the metal frame of the bedhead. With another flick of my hands, I secure the knot under her breasts and bend her knees high.

When Kerry chortles, the sound grates against my ears, and I clench my jaw.

“I know you’re a sex wizard, but if you could just speed up the tying up and fuck me. That’d be great.”

Peering up at her smiling eyes, I roll my shoulders back to relax them.

After running the rope around her calves and her thighs until they’re tied together, I spread her thighs wide and kneel between her legs.

****

As I walk Kerry out and call the elevator, she turns to me.

“Everything all right, big guy?”

When I say it is, she touches my arm. “Is there something you needed me to do differently?”

Yes. Not ask questions.Our interactions usually last longer. I like her well enough and between us things are clear. She knows what I like, I make her come and I spoil her financially. But tonight, the pent-up tension I was hoping to release still knots my back.

She flicks her long blonde hair over her shoulder. “Is it still okay that my girlfriend and I stay at your hotel in London next week?”

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I nod. “Call Ann, she’ll make the arrangements.”

The pretty woman I’ve been sleeping with for the last five months touches her fingertips to her painted lips and waves at me. “Soon, big guy.”

“Bye, Kerry.”

When she finally steps between the sliding doors of the metal cabin, I raise my chin in response to her little wave, and exhale slowly as I head back inside the apartment. Once there, I head straight for the shower.

While the multiple warm jets beat on my shoulders, I hang my head low while my mind wanders to Aelin. I press my palm against the cool, tiled wall and wrap my fist around my cock.

Aelin’s on her knees before me. Her wrists are tied behind her back which pushes her round tits up. Her eyes darken. She wants this as much as I do. When her luscious lips stretch slowly into a sinful smile, I trace my thumb over her mouth. She suckles on my thumb.

Fuck. I tighten the grip on my cock.

“What do you want?”

Her reply fans on my digit wet with her. “You.”

I slide my fingers in her silky hair. “Show me, baby.”

When her mouth opens wide, I push the head of my cock against her tongue.

Hissing in pleasure, I stroke faster.

Clamping my hand in her hair, I push my cock further inside her hot mouth. I want to fuck her mouth hard, but it’s too good. “Open your eyes, baby.”

Her amber gaze locks onto mine. In. Out. Slow. Deep. Wet.

I brace my legs while electric heat shoots up my spine.

Deeper into her mouth. Deeper until I hit the back of her throat. She moans and the vibration shoots along my cock.

I come, spurting in hot jets drowned by the heavy spray of the shower. After rinsing off, I dry myself quickly, toss the damp towel over the square black sink of the bathroom and stride to bed.

Fuck.

****

Aelin

It’s past midnight when I lock my front door.

“Mmm.” I roll my neck and knead my nape before I plop down on my sofa. After chucking four cushions under my arm, I curl my legs under me and shut my eyes. Gabe’s face props up behind my lids.Was he checking on me? And why?

I’ve often caught the foreman, a taciturn, burly man lurking around the worksite. I shake myself up before making a sandwich I eat quickly. I should take a hot bath with Epsom salt to relax my back where I can feel a bruise forming, but I’m exhausted. After brushing my teeth, I crawl into bed.

Why didn’t he kiss me?I’m pretty sure he wanted to touch me, maybe as much as I wanted to be touched.I bet he’s a good kisserI fall asleep thinking of Gabe.

****

At 6:52 AM the next day, I push my sunglasses on the top of my head as I lock my front door and descend the five stone steps to get to my car.

“Aelin—”

Holy shi—!My whole body seizes while my heart smashes against my ribs. I whip my head to Gabe. He pushes off his sportscar parked a few meters from my house and stalks toward me.

Opening and closing my mouth soundlessly as the object of my heated fantasies—even more gorgeous than in my dreams in faded jeans and a pale blue t-shirt—edges closer.

“Gabe? Hi. Is something wrong with Holloway?”

His masculine, crisp scent swirls around me while his eyes set on my heated face. “No, I wanted to apologize for scaring you last night.”

By scaring me in daylight?I stare at him for a few seconds too long, blink, and clear my throat. “That’s … nice of you, but I’m fine.”

When he touches my arm, awareness fizzles through me and my skin breaks out in goosebumps. “Have breakfast with me, Aelin.”

Oh, so tempting, but…When I shake my head, I lose his touch, and his eyes narrow.

“I’m picking up a few things from the Uxbridge craft market, and I usually have breakfast at the Bells pub, but it’s closed for renovation.” I smile and inch closer. “Maybe another time?”

His lips twitch. “Do you want some company?”

Gabe Matthews, you’re full of surprises.I tilt my head to the side. “To the market? Have you ever been to a craft market?”

Gabe’s smile widens. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

I lower my voice to a whisper. “No one’s perfect, but I promise, I’ll be gentle.”

His wide chest shakes under his quiet laughter as he dips his chin. “I appreciate that. Shall we take my car?”

Once in his car, even though my stomach buzzes and knots at the same time, I enjoy the pleasant ride. We talk mainly about Holloway House and with the windows down while the cool breeze whips through my hair, I nestle deeper in my seat. By the time we arrive at the market, I’m more relaxed, but the flutter in my stomach is still abuzz.

We fall into an easy rhythm as we stroll the market’s grounds where rows of colorful stalls are neatly aligned on both sides of the graveled, wide pathway. We cross just a few passersby, but in a couple of hours, the popular market will be heaving with locals and tourists alike. Uxbridge market shot to mitigated stardom a few years ago after a celebrity stylist gushed about it online, and one of her clients was photographed wearing a unique—moderately priced—neckpiece to announce her engagement to her famous girlfriend.

“Hey, Aelin.”

“Hey, Mona”

I pull Gabe toward the jewelry stall where the rainbow-colored dreadlocked, smiling woman leans over the display to kiss my cheek.

When she sets her warm brown gaze on Gabe, I touch Gabe’s arm.

“Mona, this is Gabe. This is his first time here.”

Mona’s dangling earrings catch the rays of the sun as she grins. “Ah. Nobody’s perfect. Pleased to meet you, Gabe.”

Gabe’s lips twitch as he shakes her hand adorned with rings on each finger. “So I’ve been told. Same here, Mona.”

My friend lifts her index finger before ducking under the table full of exquisite earrings and gemmed baubles. She springs back up with a deep green velvet square box and hands it to me.

“My sister sent me this from London and I immediately thought of you.”

I grin and open the box.Oh, my.The antique pendant is absolutely beautiful. Made of burnished silver with an intricate loop encasing a long teardrop mounted in clear stone.

Holding the pendant against my skin, I peer up at Gabe. “What do you think?”

When he leans in, the warmth of his body against mine makes me shiver.

“It’ll be beautiful on you,” he says in that baritone timbre I’m starting to like beyond reason.

Sold.I reach inside my bag and frown.Oh, no.I rummage through the leather pouch.Flipping shoot.Groaning while my face catches fire, I set the box on the wooden table draped in black velvet, rummage some more, and sigh.

“Mona, will you keep it until next week for me? I left my wallet at home.”

Mona’s wrinkled hand taps gently on mine. “Why don’t you take it and pay me next week?”

I bend over the stall to peck Mona’s cheek. “You’re the best, Mona. But I’ll pick it up next week.”

“So stubborn,” Mona says with a shake of her head, but her eyes are smiling as she waves us goodbye.

Gabe and I spend the next twenty minutes wading through the market during which I pick up a few more items and order a couple of candelabras for Holloway’s fireplace. As we circle back near Mona’s stall, I touch his arm.

“So, how was your first market day?”

My too-sexy employer sets his dark eyes on mine, and his lips twitch.

“Am I perfect now?”

I love his voice.I can’t help but grin. “Not yet, but it’s a good start.”

The twitch turns into a low chuckle, and…Oh, my God, he has dimples.As his brow raises, I realize I’ve been staring at him, and heat engulfs my face. I clear my throat and lift my precious cargo of sample materials I want to use for one of the rooms at Holloway.

“All done for today.”

We make our way back to the car, and once in the cool air of his car, he turns to me.

“Do you have other engagements today?”

“I have to be in Plymouth around 3:00.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Are you hungry?”

When I smile, his gaze drops to my mouth, and a shiver races through me. “Yes, I’m starving.”

Half an hour later, we enter through a pale blue door, and I stop to take in the small eatery with its pale gold walls, teal linen tablecloths, and gold napkins, cutlery, and ornate tea glass shots. It’s both cozy and grandiose.

The hostess leads us through an arch where we sit at one of the eight tables and spend the

best part of our meal—the food is both rich and finely sophisticated—sharing ideas for Holloway. During lunch, he regales me with funny tales of his travels, and soon it’s time for us to leave.

****

I arrive at John’s hacienda-style house with three minutes to spare and hurry to the door.

When he doesn’t answer to the knock, nor the bell, I go round the back to his workshop, a small barn he reconverted, full of pieces of furniture in varied stages of completion.

His dark blond hair is tied on his nape, his head is bent over a piece of curved wood he sands almost as a caress.

Geez, I have sex on the brain, and it’s all Gabe’s fault.He nearly almost kisses me, spends half the day with me being all sexy and stuff, and … nothing. But I guess it’s for the best, the last thing I need is to entangle myself with a client. My biggest client. And I know from experience how much damage gossips can cause. But Gabe’s so…

Standing in the wide opening, I curve my hands around my mouth. “Knock, knock!”

John lifts his head, smiles, and pushes up his safety glasses. “Hey, angel, how are you?”

When he waves me in, I join him in the vast space. “I’m well, how are you, Johnnie?”

He kisses my cheek when I get by his side. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks.” I point at the piece he’s working on. “Is this the wardrobe?”

He grins. “Yep. I’ll be done in two days max. And it’ll be just like your drawings.”

Of that, I have no doubt. I graze the rounded, smooth edge of the furniture.It’s exactly what I wanted. So, why did he ask me here?

I touch my friend’s muscled arm. “You wanted to talk to me?”

When the lines of his jaw harden, I straighten my back. “Yes, let’s go inside. I’ve got some fresh lemonade.”

Must be serious. John catches my hand which I pull away as I walk past him and toward his kitchen’s back door.

Once we’re settled at his anthracite marble kitchen island—me on a varnished high stool and him across from me with his back against the old-fashioned stove—I raise my eyes to his. I like his kitchen and the clean lines of the cabinetry painted in cerulean blue. The bright color against the white walls gives the room a romantic seaside vibe.

He crosses his arms on his chest and scrutinizes me. “Did you go to the market today?”

I do not like that tone. Not one bit.After a deep breath, I smile with a shrug. “Yes, it’s Sunday. Why?”

He leans over the counter. “Alone?”

I set my glass on the island and shift back against the curved stool.Here we go again.

“Excuse me?”

His palms flatten on the marble top while his eyes narrow. “Davey and two other people told me you were there with Gabe Matthews.”

I swallow my groan. I hate gossip. Hate it with a passion. But I’ve known John for a decade, so I breathe deeply to stop myself from poking his judgmental glare and clasp my fingers on the cool stone of the counter.

“Who I go to the market with or do anything else with, for that matter, is no one’s business but mine.”

John’s eyes soften and he reaches for my hands. “Angel—”

Pulling my hand free, I get on my feet behind the stool. “Aelin or Ael, John. The only person who calls me angel is Cara, you know that.”

My overprotective friend crosses his arms on his chest while his eyes blaze at me. “I just want what’s best for you, Aelin.”

I exhale a shaky breath and my chest tightens. Every time I date someone for more than a couple of weeks, John-the-savior comes to the fore with his self-righteous-you-need-protection-because-you’re-broken cape wrapped around him. I know it comes from a good place, so I focus on that part for a couple of seconds.

Why do men protect women by caging them?

“John, I know you think you’re being a good friend, but having people report my whereabouts to you is downright creepy.”

He rounds the island to wrap his hands around my shoulders. “Aelin, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

But I was, and I survived.Stepping out of his reach, I lift my gaze to his. “I can take care of myself, John. Hurting is part of life and I’ll deal with it if it happens. John I know what’s best for me. Please, be my friend and back off. Please.”

He lifts his palms up in the I-give-up gesture, retreats behind the island, and buries his hands in his pockets. “Okay, I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.” When his expression softens, I breathe a little easier. “So why did you call me here?”

His thick brows undulate over his smiling blue eyes. “I have a surprise for you.”

I love surprises.Beaming, I clutch my hands together. “Show me.”

Hand in hand, we make our way to the workshop, right at the back where he yanks a heavy tarp off to reveal two large blocks of beige stone.

I whip my gaze to his. “Oh my God! You found it?” I graze my fingers on the cold rough stone. “This is going to be perfect for the balcony off the main bedroom. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

After we catch up, John walks me to my car.

****

I’m barely inside my house when someone gets their finger stuck on the doorbell.

Through the peephole, a young man wearing a baseball cap waves at me. “Ms. Thorne, I have a delivery for you.”

I open the door and take the small package from his hands. “Thank you.”

Grinning, I sit on the couch in our smaller lounge at the back of the house.

The silver wrapping paper looks like lace. There’s no card attached. I unwrap the box, open it, and gasp.

Oh, my God.It’s the antique pendant I wanted to buy this morning. It comes with the perfect matching chain.Who would….?

When my cell rings, I jump. “Hello?”

Gabe’s voice is low, intimate. “How does it look on you?”

My fast heartbeats clog my words.

“Aelin?”

Even though I clear my throat, my voice comes out as a whisper. “It’s beautiful, Gabe, thank you.”

The pendant in my palm, I nestle deeper in the couch and let his voice cocoon me.

“Will you wear it for me?”

“Yes … when?”Am I too eager? Yes, I am but I don’t care.It’s the first time a man buys me jewelry, and I like that the man is Gabe.

There’s a smile in his voice. “Thursday, I’m taking you out for dinner. Do you like seafood?”

Thursday.Good things. I press my cell onto my ear. “I do.”

“Good. I’ll pick you up at 7:00.”

After the call, I float through the rest of my day and go to bed grinning.

****

The week is a blur, I spend my days working at Holloway, refining every detail until everything is perfect, and my evenings are spent talking to Emma or Cara.

On Wednesday, I rummage through my wardrobe.Should I wear something sexy? Yes, I definitely should.I replace the perfect dress and I lay it on my bed.Yes, perfect.

My cell rattles on my nightstand. Smiling at the heart emoji Cara sent me, I reply in kind and stare at my device while I chew on my bottom lip. I want to keep my date with Gabe to myself for now. After placing it back on the nightstand, I go to sleep.

Thursday turns out to be most uncooperative. A heavy downpour stops Jen from working on the labyrinth gardens. John’s white-knuckling through an endless stream of sneezing and sniffling from the flu he insists he doesn’t have. After another round of his lung-damaging coughing fit I can hear from the bedroom upstairs, I send them both home, which leaves Piotr, his contractors, and me in the house.

Around lunch time, as the rain tip taps against the windowpanes in that soothing the-rest-of-the-world-can-wait rhythm, I kneel on the floor to open the package containing the privacy curtain when I receive a text from Gabe.

Looking forward to tonight.

Me too.I text back.

“Hot date?”

I snap my gaze up to Piotr’s who with his bald head and pale blue eyes reminds me of a hipster ‘Mr. Clean.’

He crouches next to me and nudges his shoulder to mine while a big grin slashes his smooth face. “Whoever painted this dreamy expression on is one lucky man. So, what’s his name, and does he have a brother?”

I can’t help my giggle nor the heat flushing my face, but Gabe’s mine and mine only, so I just shrug as I resume my box opening. The high ceiling bears witness to his dramatic sigh before he rolls his eyes and strides back downstairs.

A couple of hours later, I have Holloway to myself. I pull open the French windows leading to the terrace of the main bedroom and inhale the honeysuckle scented breeze the rain left behind. Holloway House has that magic that makes me feel … hopeful. Happy. At peace with the world.Time to go back to work.

I grab my cell, scroll down my Spotify list while I sit crossed legged on the silver and beige rug.Aha.I press play and sing along with Pharrell Williams who describes all the reasons why he’s ‘Happy’.

Time flies by. When my cell alarm chimes, I pull my watch out of my pocket and fasten it to my wrist. 6:10 PM. Time to go home.

****

After a quick shower, I get ready. I keep my make up minimal but emphasize my eyes with lots of mascara. I lift the gloss brush to my lips when the doorbell rings.

Gabe’s here.With my heart racing, I smile at my reflection in the stand-up antique mirror in the corner of my room, breathe deeply, and walk slowly to the front door.