Abigail’s head was pounding when she finally blinked her eyes open. The air conditioning blew softly and a seagull squawked far off outside somewhere. Subdued lighting peeked through the slits of the closed blinds over the glass doors of her room.

Abigail sat up slowly, frowning at a glass of orange juice and a couple of aspirin on her nightstand. There was a note propped up against the lamp, which read HANGOVER REMEDY.

She frowned further when she realized she wore nothing but her panties beneath the covers.

Panic seized her as she remembered telling--no demanding--Gabriel he make love to her.

Oh-God! Had she fallen so low as to let a man have his way with her? She’d decided to trust Gabriel and sleep with him last night. Drinking had loosened her up enough to want more. Hugging herself, guilt weighed heavily within her. She’d sinned terribly.

She scowled at the pills, head pounding like a monster inside her skull. No pills. It was a pithy penance for what she’d invited, reveling in carnal immorality with Gabriel. The worst was, she had no recollection of it. Yes. That was certainly the worst part.

With a whimper, she rose and performed her morning ablutions in the adjacent bathroom. Her skin was pasty pale and circles appeared under her eyes. Afterwards, she pulled her hair into a mercilessly tight bun. Black was the color for today. A black long-sleeved maxi with a high-buttoned neck.

Pushing her glasses up her nose, she trudged barefoot up the stairs and froze on the top landing.

Gabriel lay on an inflatable queen-sized mattress behind the couch. The white sheets were tangled around his left leg and just barely covering his groin. His entire right leg, hip, and torso was bare. He had a pink scar on his right hip and a few bruise marks on his arms, probably where the IV’s had been. His brows were pinched together, his left arm tossed over his head, lips parted. A soft groan escaped him and his lashes fluttered over his cheeks. He was still asleep, and looked like he was in pain.

Abigail’s hand came over her heart as hope soared. They couldn’t have done anything the night before. He was still recuperating from a broken leg and ribs. But, who could have stripped her and put her to bed?

Michael strode in with Erica behind him. He carried a large carafe of coffee, and Erica carried two plastic grocery bags filled with goodies.

Michael frowned at Abigail. “You look awful. Did you take the pills I left on the nightstand?”

Erica beamed at her. “I’ll just put these in the kitchen.”

Abigail just gaped. Michael had put the pills and juice on the nightstand? Had he undressed her? Her face heated to a million degrees.

He looked at her funny. “What?”

Abigail fiddled with the buttons on her dress. Gabriel chose that moment to let out a long distressed groan followed by a hissed expletive.

Michael set the coffee down and grabbed a bottle of pills that sat on the counter.

“Ease up, old man. I’m coming,” Michael huffed.

After filling a glass with more juice from the fridge, he strode out to the living room and squatted down beside Gabe, who was rising up on his elbows with a grimace.

Michael popped two pills in his mouth and tipped the glass to his lips.

Gabriel swallowed, and when done scowled at Abigail.

“H-hi,” she whispered.

Green eyes narrowed.

Michael strode back into the kitchen. “Let me whip something up quick and I’ll get back to you, Gabe.”

“No,” Abigail blurted. “I’ll make breakfast. You can tend to him.” Put some clothes on him—she thought.

Erica had made herself at home on one of the stools, busy with a small gaming device. When Abigail volunteered to make breakfast, she looked up with a pout, eyes big as saucers. “Ooh, maybe I should help, too.”

Michael’s brows shot up. “Maybe not. Last time you tried to help in the kitchen the microwave caught fire.”

Erica gave him a bored roll of the eyes as she slid from her stool. “The popcorn box said to microwave at high for two minutes. It didn’t say anything about removing the package from the box.”

Abigail’s hands paused over the carton of eggs she was about to grab to stare at the other couple. Michael just gave her a shrug and proceeded to turn back to Gabriel.

Not wanting to see Gabriel naked, she busied herself scrambling eggs and chopping peppers, onions and tomatoes for her omelet. Erica made toast. At least she tried. Abigail had to run to release the lever on the toaster when the scent of burned bread began to permeate the kitchen. Erica had excused herself to go to the bathroom and hadn’t returned.

Abigail frowned when she saw the toasting control had been turned up to maximum. Then, she had to run back to the skillet to turn her omelet over before it burned too.

Minutes later, as she arranged plates on the table in front of the glass doors to the balcony, she heard the familiar sound of Gabe’s crutches thumping on the wooden floor, drawing closer.

Michael had taken him to the bathroom by the kitchen. She’d heard the shower running until a few minutes ago.

Abigail had set up a covered platter with the omelet as well as another two with the toast and some fruit and cheeses she’d diced up.

“Hope the coffee hasn’t gone cold. Where’s Erica?” Michael was saying.

“She said she needed to use the bathroom,” Abigail answered turning toward the stairs, wondering which one she’d disappeared into. The house had four bathrooms.

Gabriel smelled of fresh soap and shampoo. He wore a pair of black, drawstring, cotton pants that hung off his hips enticingly. His wet hair was brushed back behind his ears. In the reflection she could see it reached just between his shoulder blades.

Michael shrugged and grinned at Abigail as he pulled out a chair for Gabriel. “Well, it’ll be nice to eat something someone else cooked and have company for a change.”

He also pulled out a chair for her and she sat, wondering at his words. “Erica’s not very inclined toward the kitchen?” she asked with a polite smile.

Michael snorted and said nothing more as he served first her and then Gabriel some of the omelet.

Gabriel stared at his plate and sniffed. He looked intently at her as she spread some butter on toast and slid it onto his plate.

“Wow,” Michael laughed. “You made a feast here, Abs. I’m jealous, Gabe.”

He put fruit and cheese on the small dishes Abigail had placed by their plates and gave it to Gabe who was furthest away from it.

Gabriel frowned as he cut into the omelet slowly. Abigail waited with bated breath as he speared the first bite. Michael groaning lewdly had them both looking at him. The huge guitarist had his eyes closed, jaw moving slowly from side to side as he chewed.

“God, this tastes good,” he moaned.

His golden eyes opened as he licked his lips and shook his head. “You’ve got to give me the recipe, Abs.”

“Uh, sure,” she replied as he took another bigger bite.

Her gaze slid to Gabriel who still watched his band mate, a little wrinkle between his perfectly arched brows. He finally popped the morsel of egg into his mouth and began chewing.

Abigail tried not to giggle at his expression. He looked shocked and stuffed some more egg into his mouth.

Abigail wasn’t sure how much the men would eat, so she’d made the entire carton of eggs, twelve in total. Except for the piece she was still nibbling at, they pretty much cleared out the platter, fighting over the last piece.

“She can make it for you whenever, man. Have some pity on me.”

“Go get your own female to cook for you.”

“Ha! Yeah-right!’

“I can make some more,” Abigail said sliding her chair back.

Gabriel closed his fist over her hand. “No, baby. Finish your breakfast.”

“Fine,” Michael huffed unhappily. “You take it then.”

“You’re too fat anyway, Mike. You should be grateful,” Gabriel snickered.

Abigail gasped, leveling Gabe with an admonishing glare. “That’s not a nice thing to say to your friend.”

Michael snorted. “I’m not fat. I’m fluffy.”

Abigail looked at Michael. No. He wasn’t fat at all. He was just built like a tank, wide shoulders, bulging chest, thick neck, and huge muscular arms. His golden eyes were sharp and mannerisms gentle. Abigail had grown a soft spot for him, until she remembered him saying he’d left the aspirin on the nightstand for her and that she’d been clad only in her panties when she’d woken up. Gabriel couldn’t have gone down those stairs on his crutches, much less undressed her. Had it been Erica? She was too embarrassed to ask.

As if sensing her thoughts, Michael gave her a huge grin, wolfish eyes glinting.

***

Gabriel wasn’t liking the way she kept staring at Mike and blushing. What the fuck was going on there? Mike telling him he was jealous did nothing to soothe his damned possessive streak either.

Christ, the woman made a mean omelet. Might be the only thing she knew how to make, but Gabriel was hooked good and solid.

“Well, Erica hasn’t eaten yet and there’s no more left. I might as well make more anyway.”

Michael patted his lips with the dark blue napkin she’d put out and rose. “Don’t worry about Erica. She’s most likely back home and forgot all about breakfast.”

Something sad and lonely passed through his eyes, but it was gone in the blink of an eye.

“Guess I’ll leave you two alone and head back home before her highness realizes I’m still gone.” With that, he sauntered out through the balcony doors.

Warm salty air blew in from outside. Gabriel observed Abigail.

She fidgeted with her fork. “You don’t suppose the owner of this house would mind you staying here like you did last night?”

Gabriel glared at her. “You invited me.”

Her eyes went wide, one brow arched. “I did?”

Okay. She didn’t, but that was beside the point. “You said you wanted to sleep with me.”

She stood abruptly, grabbing Michael’s plate as well as her own. “Gonna clean up now. Want more coffee or juice?”

Gabriel gripped her wrist making the dishes rattle. “You said you wanted me to make love to you.”

Abigail’s face flushed crimson. She swallowed hard before looking at him from the corner of her eye. “Did we?” she squeaked.

Gabriel clenched his teeth, remembering the ways she’d practically crawled all over him on the drive to Bayside. He’d sat in the back of Mike’s van while she’d stroked her tongue everywhere on him and caressed his upper body until it was all he could do to not dry hump against her.

Mike had helped him undress and had laughed his ass off at Gabe’s pitiful condition afterwards. Only the certainty that Mike was likely not getting anything either that night stopped him from punching his guitarist in the face.

Abigail was already hyperventilating. She had no idea what had transpired the night before, which pissed Gabriel even more. He’d suffered all night with a case of blue balls while she’d slept in drunken bliss in the downstairs bedroom.

“We didn’t do anything, Abigail. The only way we can have sex is if you mounted me, and you were passed out by the time we got here.”

She closed her eyes with a long huff of apparent relief. He released her hand as if she’d burned him and turned his angry gaze to the glass doors.

She set the plates back down on the table and sat slowly.

“Why do you look so angry?” she asked softly. “I’m sorry I said what I said. I wasn’t thinking straight—“

“Of course you weren’t,” he muttered.

He needed to back off. He was pressuring too much. Poor girl had zilch in the experience department. Hell, she’d been cloistered in a convent a little over a month ago. An evil voice in his head laughed and reminded him that she’d been ready to marry Daniel and give him her innocence instead; Daniel of the clean-cut haircut and impeccable suits.

“Gabe, who put me to bed?”

He pursed his lips, still not wanting to look at her, his annoyance was so fierce. “Mike."

He noticed her wince and had to turn. Her hands were folded on her lap and her face was beet red again. Rage boiled up his spine until it filled his head with pure fire.

“Michael carried you downstairs. Why do you ask?" He said, outwardly calm.

Well, his voice sounded calm. Obviously Abigail was seeing something quite terrifying in his face because she bit her lips, eyes wide as she gulped audibly.

He took a deep breath, trying to push images of Michael probably having touched or kissed her out of his head. Even though she looked like a nun right now with her long black dress, hair tight behind her head and big, black-framed glasses, Abigail was pure temptation with her lush lips and big innocent blue eyes. He wanted to toss her up on the piano and eat her out and then fuck her silly.

His cell phone ringing had him scowling at it. The number was his granma’s so he answered it right away.

“Bendición, mamá,” he said.

He winced and frowned at the barked out “Where are you?”

“Diamond?”

Abigail jolted up and got away to the kitchen before he could stop her.

“I’m at Anna Maria’s house and she doesn’t know where you are.”

Gabriel had left a note and was sure his grandmother had seen it. Grateful she still hadn’t revealed to Diamond where his secret beach house was, he replied, “Is there a problem, Diamond?”

She sputtered a moment before huffing. “Can’t you tell me where you are? Are you in that girl’s house?”

Gabriel did not like how she spat the word girl.

“Yeah, I’m with Abigail. There a problem?” he spat back.

There was heavy breathing over the line. “Gabriel, you should be resting in your home. I hope you didn’t do anything to set back your recovery,” she said in a sugary sweet tone.

It sounded so fake, Gabriel curled his lip in annoyance. Whether or not he’d fucked Abs was none of her business.

“Yeah, Di. I’m actually gonna need a sling for my dick.” Partially true because it still ached from disuse.

He heard her gasp of outrage and had to smirk.

“The band’s been idle for a month, Gabe. That’s not good,” she replied now icily.

“What do you want me to do, Di? It’s not my fault someone tried to fuck me over.”

She was silent for a while. “What have you remembered about that night, Gabe? That’s important, you know.”

Gabriel thought. “I was listening to music over the headset in the helmet. There was a car behind me. I don’t know. Maybe two.”

He hadn’t thought anything at first until one of them had gotten so close, he could feel the heat from the radiator on his back. He’d crossed lanes, moving to the right, and then he’d taken the curve just past El Morro Canyon road.

“It was an SUV. A black one.”

Diamond tittered on the line. “Gabe, almost everyone on the west coast owns a black SUV. Do you remember the make or model?”

Gabriel thought. “A Merc?” His memory was foggy. “I’m not sure.”

“Did you get a look at the driver?”

“Tinted windows,” he replied. “How did you get there so fast? Cops said they contacted you and you got there before the helicopter?”

Diamond lived in LA, which wasn’t exactly a skip and a hop down to Bayside.

“I was staying at a friend’s house,” she sniffed.

Gabe grunted, really not interested in her story. Besides, Abigail’s phone was going off, too.

“Look, Di, gotta go now. Feels like my meds are wearing off and I need some more painkillers. Leg is starting to bother me again and that shit makes me sleepy as fuck.”

“Be careful with those pills, Gabe. Wouldn’t want to see you in rehab with a drug problem.”

Gabriel wrinkled his nose. “Don’t worry. I’m just taking them like the doctor prescribed.”

Abigail was having a heated argument in the kitchen. Without waiting to hear Diamond’s reply he clicked the call off. Thankfully, Michael had remembered to leave his crutches nearby. Maneuvering himself onto them wasn’t easy, but he managed to do it without falling on his face, and hobbled over into the kitchen.

“Mikayla, I told you a million times, I cannot tell you where I am.”

Gabriel came up behind her, trapping her against the counter. She stiffened when he brought his mouth to her neck and nibbled.

A moan escaped her and he heard when Mikayla stopped her insulting rant.

“I’m in pain, baby,” Gabe growled in her ear.

Abigail let the phone clatter to the counter as she turned her head to gape at him, pupils dilated wide. “Your meds. Didn’t Michael give them to you this morning?”

Her voice came out throaty despite the look of concern on her pretty face.

“Not the kind of pain I’m in,” he said nipping his way across her jaw.

“G-Gabriel,” she pleaded shakily.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Mikayla’s rant started again. “You stupid little slut. He’s just use—“

Gabriel pushed the phone over the edge of the counter where it fell in pieces on the other side judging from the noise.

He winced when he thrust his hips against her backside, a dull throb warning him not to push his limits.

She gripped the edge of the counter and shrugged her shoulders to keep him from continuing his sensual onslaught.

“G-Gabriel, stop.”

“That wasn’t what you were telling me last night,” he growled, nipping her shoulders now as he let more of his weight press her forward, nestling his arousal against the sweet crack of her heart-shaped ass.

“I’m sorry. I was drunk. I should have had more sense,” she said in a rush. “I just wanted to sleep with you and tried to find a bit of courage in the alcohol, but…”

She trailed off, her head hanging shamefully. It hurt. Felt like an outright rejection, but he knew she had her prim archaic morals and wasn’t about to push her to do something she’d regret later. That’s not how he wanted their first time to be.

It was frustrating. He felt frustrated, not accustomed to having to wait, being held at arm’s length.

“This is a whole new thing for me, Abs. Understand that. I respect where you’re coming from, though I don’t understand or agree, but I respect it.”

He backed off, giving her enough space to turn and gaze up at him meekly.

The dress she wore was awful. He hated it, too somber and covered up for her.

“What are you used to, Gabriel?” she asked, her eyes focused on a spot in the middle of his chest.

Gabriel bit his lip. He was used to fast and easy. Since high school, maybe before that, the girls would come after him. He didn’t need to be a jock or have an important dad like the other kids at the prissy private schools his grandmother made him attend. Gabe looked dangerous and rebellious, though he’d been far from it. The girls like dangerous and rebellious. Liked knowing they were messing around with something utterly forbidden by their parents. It was a turn on. He’d spent hours at Ariel’s place watching porn on the web, learning how to make a girl come exquisitely. Before he’d actually had the nerve to penetrate his first pussy, he’d been a master at fingering and using his mouth to make them squeal.

Abigail waited for his answer, pain in her eyes.

“I just want you, Abby. If I have to wait,” he shrugged, “I’ll wait.”

She licked her lips, her cheeks going a little pink now. “But I already told you. I can’t—“

He kissed her then. Swooped down and covered her sweet mouth with his to keep from begging her to marry him. Not yet, damn-it. It was too soon. He was thinking with his dick not with his head. His heart was still trying to resist, fearful of getting hurt. She’d supposedly loved Daniel not that long ago. What if she still pined away for him? He was not marrying a woman who’d think of another man when he finally bedded her. Just thinking about it now made him want to break something.

“Ouch!" She gasped, rearing back away from his rough kiss, her lips red and swollen.

Reaching up, he gripped her jaw with one hand. “Why did you ask me who put you to bed?” he snapped.

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped, face going first white and then scarlet.

“Fuck, Abigail. Don’t lie to me. What happened?”

“N-nothing, I swear,” she replied in a squeaky voice.

“Did he touch you inappropriately?” Gabriel swore. Michael was a pervert, used to easy girls and getting his way as well, but, fuck, Abby had been mindlessly drunk. He’d kill the man if he did anything to her.

“Gabriel, please,” she said gripping his wrist to pull his hand away. “You’re hurting me.”

He loosened his hold but didn’t let her go. She turned her face and broke free anyway and looked up at him with frightened eyes.

He took a calming breath, realizing he was scaring her. He’d also left the mark of his fingers on her delicate cheeks.

“Baby, it’s not your fault. I just want to know. God! I didn’t touch you at all last night even though you were crawling all over me, begging—“

At her chagrined look, he stopped that line of thought. “Just tell me why you flush so red every time I ask you what happened last night.”

Abigail licked her lips, her gaze darting everywhere but at his face.

“Abby,” he snapped again, making her jump. Softening his tone once more, he pleaded, “Please?”

“I don’t remember anything. I just woke up this morning in my bed,” she replied.

“What else? What aren’t you telling me, Abigail?”

She tried to turn her face from him, but he leaned down and got within inches of her nose. “Tell. Me.”

She began to tremble, her hand coming up to cup her throat. “I…I only had my panties on,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes, trying to keep himself from storming over next-door and beating Mike with his crutches. To think, he’d shared his table and a meal cooked by his Abby with the son-of-a-bitch.

“Do you have any marks on you?” He couldn’t seem to find it in him to ask her if she felt sore between her legs. Mike couldn’t. He just couldn’t have gone that far. Maybe copped a feel or two, but not actually fucked her.

“No,” Abigail answered timidly. He flinched when she caressed his cheek. “Gabriel, please calm down.”

He let out the breath he had pent up and looked down at her. Mike had obviously seen what was his. Gabriel hadn’t even seen her yet. It made his blood boil, but he forced himself to calm and not keep scaring the shit out of his girl.

Later. He’d have words with his traitorous band mate later.

***

Abigail left Gabriel napping on his inflatable mattress in the living room. She worried about what the owner would think if he knew she had a man in the house, but since he and Gabriel obviously knew each other, it might not be much of an issue. At least that’s what she hoped.

Mikayla had said their mother was ill, in bed and calling for her. Marjorie was not the type of woman to take to bed whether she was sick or not, so naturally, Abigail had felt worried. Too bad her sister had insisted on going to pick her up. She’d been trying to find out Abigail’s whereabouts for weeks now. Her insistence made Abigail wonder if the whole story of her mom being ill was a ruse.

Feeling a bit bashful of her little red Beetle, she parked her car a few feet from the front of the house and walked to the driveway. Last thing she needed right now was having her car mocked, especially since she was still shaken up with Gabriel’s violent reaction to Michael apparently stripping her down to her panties the night before.

She was sure the big guitarist hadn’t done anything nefarious to her. He was too taken with his own girl, though, knowing what she knew now of Erica, Abigail wondered why. Oh, she seemed sweet and sometimes clueless, but she also barely paid any mind to poor Michael. The few times Michael had attempted to be amorous with her, the girl had shrugged him off.

Abigail pouted. Sometimes she was the same way with poor Gabriel, but only because he tempted her so much.

As she pondered about Michael and Erica’s situation, wondering if they were married, she stopped when she heard voices coming from the garage.

“You son-of-a-bitch,” Mikayla hissed. “I told you to just follow him.”

“I did," Edvard snapped back, making Abigail’s brows shoot up.

Why were they speaking to each other that way?

“I did everything you asked me to do,” he continued, his foreign accent getting thicker with his anger.

“Lower your voice, you stupid jerk.” Mikayla growled.

“I shan’t. Let everyone know. I followed your precious rock star around like a cuckold because I loved you.”

“Fuck you, Edvard.”

There was a tussle inside the garage. Someone was slammed against the half open door, making Abigail jump back a step, eyes wide, and hand over her mouth in shock at what she was hearing. Had Edvard tried to kill Gabe?

“I’d kiss your mouth after you’d tell me how you’d sucked his cock. Licked your cunt and pretended to be him when I fucked you. And what gratitude do I get?”

Mikayla laughed. “Please. As if I’d ever be anything remotely yours. You’re nothing but a lowlife chauffeur I get a kick out of screwing once in a while.”

Abigail heard a slap and Mikayla cry out. There was more struggling, a loud thump, and then moaning.

Horrified, Abigail stared at the door, unsure of what to do. Was the chauffeur forcing Mikayla at the moment?

Mikayla began to moan, the sound of skin slapping skin sickening Abigail.

“Yes, my mistress, that’s how you like it, yes? Rough and dirty.”

“Shut the fuck up,” she panted. “You know you’re going to have to lick all of your filthy cum from inside me, right?’

“Yes, mistress, yes,” he hissed before groaning.

Abigail backed away, sick to her stomach. Mikayla was more horrid than she thought. Oh-God. Poor Daniel.

This couldn’t be. He didn’t deserve this.

Not watching where she was going, she stumbled on the top step leading down to the walkway to the house. Terror made her flail, knowing she’d probably crack her head on the stone steps, but a pair of strong arms caught her, clasping her to an equally hard chest.

Daniel’s familiar scent enveloped her as he held her to his chest.

“Easy,” he murmured turning her.

Abigail looked up into his face, remembering how she’d giggled at his anecdotes in the gazebo by the koi pond behind the mansion. That sweet summer so many years ago.

Unable to stop herself, she threw her arms around his neck, her tears already slipping from beneath her lashes. Why did things have to become so complicated? Daniel was sweet and good. He’d been so kind and tender with her. There was no lust or forbidden longing, just pure affection and love. Why did he have to forget about her and chose Mikayla?

Gabriel was different from Daniel. So beautiful. Too beautiful, stirring up undesirable longings within her. Daniel was safe. Gabriel was sin incarnate, but even thinking of Mikayla with Gabriel was too much to bear. Mikayla was horrid. And Edvard? Oh-God. Had Edvard tried to kill Gabe in a fit of jealousy?

“What’s wrong, Abigail?” Daniel asked holding her tight, his hands smoothing over her back in soothing circles.

Realizing she was plastered to his front, she moved back a little. Somehow, the action made their positions even more intimate. They’d only ever held hands. Never so much as a kiss.

Now Daniel looked down at her, his brown eyes going darker as they focused on her lips.

Abigail felt a sudden surge of panic and wrongness. She back away some more and almost tripped on the step again.

Daniel’s arm encircled her waist as he drew her down the steps.

“This is clearly a hazardous spot for you to be at the moment. Let’s go to the study, Abigail. I’d like to speak with you.”

She followed him into the house.

“Mikayla told me my mom was not feeling well. That she had taken to bed ill,” she said looking down at her shoes as they entered the study.

“Sit,” Daniel gestured to one of the plush armchairs before a wall of shelves. He walked toward the fireplace and poured some golden liquid from a decanter into a short crystal glass. It sparkled prettily as he approached her.

She shook her head vehemently when he held it out for her. “Oh-no. I don’t drink,” she said, and then blushed. Well, she wouldn’t drink anymore starting today.

“Take it,” Daniel commanded gently, his lips twitching into a smile. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. It’ll warm you up and put a little color in your cheeks.”

Abigail took the glass and thanked him shyly. Putting her lips on the edge of the glass she took a small sip and coughed as warmth scalded her throat. It tasted worse than the beer last night, but he was right. She felt the heat travel from her tummy to her extremities and cheeks.

He poured himself a glass as well and sat on the chair next to hers.

“Where have you been, Abigail? We’ve all been worried about you.”

She looked down at the trembling liquid in the glass. Braving another gulp, she grimaced before answering, “I have my own place now. I bought a car and…” Looking at him as she raised her chin a bit, she continued. “I take care of a home on the waterfront in Bayside.”

Daniel’s brows drew together. “Abigail. You can’t be serious? You had maids and butlers here. Why would you go off to tend someone else’s home?”

Abigail put her glass down on the small table in front of them, perhaps with a little more force than necessary because some of it spilled over onto the dark polished wood.

“It’s better than sitting around waiting for handouts. I enjoy working for myself, Daniel.”

He sputtered, looking aghast. “I didn’t realize you felt our helping you made you feel that way. You’re family, Abigail. Family always sees after their own. It was no handout, surely,” he finished with a little frown of annoyance.

Abigail felt bad. She hadn’t meant to offend him. “No, of course not, Daniel. I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant to say.”

“You don’t feel like part of the family? We grew up together, Abigail.”

“Of course…” And it suddenly occurred to her, had Daniel loved her as a sister and maybe that’s why nothing had ever happened between them? Mikayla was always doing her own thing. She’d never been with them. She’d had her own friends, attended different schools than Abigail. Daniel had also gone away to boarding schools and was so much older than Mikayla. “Daniel, did you see me like a sister?”

Daniel frowned a little before his eyes widened a bit and he looked away. “I suppose. I’m sorry about what happened,” he said making Abigail’s heart constrict a little. “It’s just that so many years went by and we all change. I came home two years ago and Mikayla…”

He stopped speaking, his face going red.

Abigail gulped, guessing at what probably transpired. Mikayla seduced him, knowing Daniel had been her boyfriend first.

“It’s not like we really had anything real between us, Abigail.”

His words made a small ache bloom in her chest. She’d thought they had something special and pure…spiritual even.

“I hadn’t seen you in over six years and Mikayla just…She’s so beautiful and wild.” He frowned then. “Yes. Very wild.” His eyes snapped up to Abigail now. “You’ve changed a lot too, you know.”

Something about the way he looked at her now made Abigail feel uncomfortable.

“You’ve filled out.” His eyes slid down to her breasts, making Abigail hunch her shoulders and cross her arms over them. His gaze snapped up to her face now, dark eyes glittering like a predator. “So pretty and so very innocent. You’re still a virgin, aren’t you?”

Abigail swung her head away from him to look at the empty fireplace. “I think this conversation is getting a bit too personal, Daniel.”

He chuckled then. Whereas Gabriel’s made her shiver with pleasure, Daniel’s throaty chuckle made her want to dash away. It shocked her. It hadn’t felt that way before?

She suddenly wanted to run home to Gabriel. The thought shocked her even more.

“I’m so glad you haven’t let Gabriel trick you into becoming his next conquest. Good thing he’s still convalescing or I doubt that would be the—“

Abigail stood, hands fisted at her sides. “It is not a good thing he’s hurt, Daniel. How can you say such an awful thing about your brother?”

His face darkened a moment before he smoothed it out to a cold blankness. “Abigail, you have such a soft heart. Gabriel may be my brother, product of an illicit relationship, but truly, he’s beneath you. You went to the best schools in Europe while he lived who knows where acquiring who knows what habits.” Daniel wrinkled his nose.

Abigail felt her ire rise. “He was hardly a pauper, I’ll have you know. He was raised by his grandmother. Your grandmother, and she’s a good God-fearing woman.”

Daniel grinned. “Ah, my grandmother. Yes. Mother told me all about her. Had my mother listened to her I would not exist, Abigail.”

Abigail frowned. She had no idea what had transpired so many years ago. Only what she’d been told by her own mother. “Daniel, I firmly believe she would not hold the mistakes of your parents against you. You’re her grandson. You two have never even met.”

Daniel stood and walked to one of the windows to look out. “I wouldn’t like to inconvenience her. She already loves Gabriel. I’d just be an intruder.” He looked back at Abigail, his eyes dark and angry. “I would never beg for crumbs of affection.”

“She’s not like that, Daniel.”

At that moment Paulina walked in and froze seeing Abigail.

“Godmother,” Abigail said timidly.

The woman’s shock wore off and her eyes grew cold. “Are you here to ask for money?”

“Mother,” Daniel scolded. “That is unnecessary.”

Paulina scoffed. “Is it? Look at how she’s dressed. Like a pauper.” Again, the woman snorted and stalked to the desk.

Abigail watched shocked as she withdrew her checkbook from one of the locked drawers. “How much do you need?”

“I didn’t come here to ask for money, Auntie,” Abigail said standing very tall. “Mikayla said my mother was very ill.”

Paulina snorted. “Well, if she is, it’s news to me.”

Mikayla walked in then, her short denim skirt garnering a moue of distaste from Paulina and an indifferent stare from Daniel.

“Mikayla, what’s going on?” Abigail demanded.

Mikayla stared at all of them with wide innocent eyes. “Whatever do you mean, sister dearest?’

“Why did you call me to tell me mother was sick and bed-ridden?”

Mikayla frowned and planted her fists on her slim hips, one Michael Kors shoe tapping on the glossy marble floor. “Mom said to call you because she wasn’t feeling well. She was in bed when she told me. I wasn’t lying.”

Abigail scowled at her. “Well, why didn’t she call me herself?”

Mikayla flicked back a strand of her long red hair. “How the hell should I know?”

***

Gabriel woke with a start. The house was dead quiet.

“Abigail,” he called out wincing at the tenderness in his ribs. The doctor did say it’d take six fucking months for those to heal completely, and his leg maybe a year, maybe more.

“Abs,” he called out.

Where was she?

Keys sounded in the front door and he turned to stare. Maybe she’d gone to get groceries.

Michael stepped in with a grin.

Rage exploded inside Gabriel. He closed his eyes and clenched his fists.

“Hey, man. Thought I’d come by to see how you were doing. Saw Abs take off a while ago. You okay? You look kind of flushed.”

His chucks squeaked closer.

“Got something in my eyes,” Gabriel replied tightly.

“Yeah? Shit. Let me take a look.”

Gabriel leaned more on his left arm and waited for Mike to come closer.

His right fist connected beautifully with Mike’s nose, sending a jolt of agony up his arm. Totally worth it though as he collapsed with a groan back on the inflatable mattress. A river of blood flowed from Mike’s swollen nose as the man swore a plethora of expletives at Gabriel.

“What the fuck was that for?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know, you bastard,” Gabriel snarled rubbing at his aching collarbone. Christ. It felt like he’d snapped it again.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” Michael replied, hand over nose, eyes wide and angry.

“You fucking stripped Abigail last night,” Gabriel seethed. “I want to fucking kill you. How could you touch my girl, man?”

Michael began to laugh. He stumbled back, falling on one of Gabe’s couches laughing his fucking ass off. Gabriel’s rage knew no limits at that point. He began to struggle to drag himself up, just wanting to get his hands around the fucker’s fat neck.

“You jealous, pathetic bastard,” Michael guffawed. “Erica was the one who tucked her in. I came up here to get the juice and aspirin, remember, asshole?’

Gabriel ceased his efforts at standing without his crutches and narrowed his eyes at Michael.

“So you didn’t see her naked?”

Michael continued to laugh, making Gabriel feel like an ass for sure. “You have got it really bad, brother. I think you broke my fucking nose.”

Gabriel grinned sheepishly. “If it’ll make you feel any better, I think I busted my collarbone again.”

Michael grimaced now. “Ew-damn. Diamond’s gonna be pissed when she hears that.”

Dark bruises were beginning to form under Mike’s eyes. Yeah. She wasn’t going to like that either.

Banging on the door had Michael hefting himself up and striding to the door.

Gabriel sank back onto the mattress with a pained grimace. His shoulder was a hot mess of pain. It didn’t help when Angelo dived onto the mattress with him seconds later.

“Gaby! What’s for lunch, man? I’m starving.”

Ariel came in ahead of Mike, beer already in hand. He looked at Gabriel and tipped his chin up in greeting. Good old Eeyore.

“Anybody hear from Rafe?” Michael was asking as he heading to the kitchen.

“Rafe?” Angelo grinned stretching out next to Gabe. “That would be negative.”

Ariel grunted and held out a hand to Gabriel who was trying to get up off the mattress and away from the annoying drummer.

Gabriel just looked up at him with a raised brow. He wasn’t about to let the lanky six-foot-three bass player yank him up. The guy, tall as he was, probably weighed about one-seventy, maybe, compared to Gabe’s even two hundred.

Angelo bounced on the mattress in order to scramble off. “Arie-boy, that’s not how you help an invalid up.”

“No, it’s okay,” Gabriel blurted in panic as the bumbling blond moron came at him.

“Easy, Gabe. I’ve got this.”

“Shit! Get away from me.”

Big arms clutched at him. Ang bent his legs, plastered his chest against Gabriel’s and then straightened his legs. To Gabriel’s surprised he felt minimal pain. Ariel handed him his crutches and they both stepped away.

Gabriel stood before them, eyes wide.

“There. You see,” Angelo said with a frown. “I know what I’m doing. No one trusts me.”

Ariel just shook his head and tipped his head back to take a swig of his beer.

“Diamond’s been complaining we’re too idle,” Michael said as he strode back into the living room with an ice bag pressed to his nose.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and hobbled to the glass doors of the beach house. Down below, boats rose and fell with the slow lazy roll of the tide. He had his own boat, though not very big, but he wondered if Abby would like to take a ride on it sometime. He could imagine her in a bikini, her hair flowing in the wind, the sun kissing her skin golden…

“Earth to Gabe,” Mike called out.

They’d come closer now; Angelo on the piano stool, Mike leaning against the black baby grand, and Ariel sitting at one of the chairs at the dining room table.

While he’d been visualizing Abby on his boat, he’d heard music in his head. His eyes focused on the piano. Four steps later he was telling Ang to move. He did with a flourish.

“You got any equipment around?” Angelo was asking Michael.

Gabriel’s fingers stroked the keys absently. His mind went back to Abigail. She had a pretty figure. The snug jeans and top she’d worn the night before let him see how curvy she was. The Hollywood ideal was slim and slightly top heavy. Although Abigail was not heavy, she was far from skinny. Her breasts were nicely rounded, a lot more than a simple handful. Her waist was definitely cinched. Small enough for Gabriel to get his hands around, fingers almost touching, but from there her hips flared out, nice and round with a full heart-shaped ass he just wanted to spank and then bite.

“Hey, that’s not bad, Gabe,” Angelo was saying, hands on hips.

Gabriel blinked, his fingers freezing over the piano keys.

Michael already had a battered old notebook, scribbling furiously.

Gabriel took a deep breath and started from the beginning, this time adding his voice as words spilled from his heart.

***

Abigail pulled up to the beach house just as the sun was setting. Turning off her Beetle, the warm early summer breeze caressed her skin when she opened the door. She loved the scent of the sea and barbecuing most people did in their back decks. The usual sounds of the waves lapping beneath the docks and board walks as well as gulls and motor boats moving about greeted her. Abigail sighed in contentment until a deep thrumming and distinct thumping sound made her cock her head to the side.

It sounded vaguely like music, but was too muted for her to be sure. Perhaps one of the fancy boats in the bay behind the house, or the Yacht Club down the street. She wondered what Gabe was doing if he was still there at all. Maybe Michael had finally taken him home. That thought actually made her sad. He'd texted her about a million times asking her where she was. When she’d finally told him she was at the Montenegro estate, he’d gone silent.

Abigail wondered if he was mad. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was jealous of his brother. As for Daniel, it made her angry he saw Gabriel as little more than an illiterate delinquent who needed saving, quite preferably in some gilded cage with surveillance.

She opened the front door and rocked back on her heels when the blast of music hit her full force.

Mouth gaping, she rushed in and locked the door behind her. The squeal of guitars sang through her eardrums, the bass and drums vibrating through her feet from below, and Gabriel’s voice almost had her going to her knees.

For long seconds she couldn’t move, just absorbed it all in, until Gabriel began crooning her name, long, low, guttural. Good-lord! It was a song about her.

She stumbled her way down the stairs to the lounge by the pool table. They’d set up toward the back near the fireplace blocked now by Angelo’s drum kit. They were so absorbed by what they were doing, they didn’t see her sidle up next to Erica, who sat on one of the stools from the wet bar.

Erica noticed her arrival though and grinned up excitedly at her.

Leaning over until her mouth was aligned with Abigail’s ear, the girl said, “New song. Amazing, isn’t it?”

Abigail could only nod.

Gabriel sat on one of the dining room chairs with his foot propped up on a little square ottoman. He was still shirtless, but his hair had dried, soft waves framing his face. His right arm was back in a sling, knuckles red and swollen, microphone held in his left hand close to his lips.

Abigail frowned at that.

Michael sat close to him and Abigail’s eyes widened further when she saw the dark bruises under his eyes and swollen nose. He looked like he’d been hit in the face with a bat.

“Good. Stop,” Gabriel said halting the song mid guitar riff.

The look he leveled on Abigail was not friendly at all.

So, he was mad.

She stiffened her spine and frowned at him. If he thought he was going to boss her around like her family, he had another thing coming.

The trip to her mother’s house had been in vain. Marjorie Brown was fitter than anyone in surrounding her at the moment.

Abigail had stomped up the stairs only to halt in the entry to her mother’s bedroom.

Some tall extremely buff man, with orangey skin called Dolph was giving her a massage on one of those padded tables masseuse use.

She’d asked about her whereabouts, Abigail had been dutifully vague and then she’d begun to yell at her, finishing off with tears, calling her ungrateful and inconsiderate. Apparently, Auntie Paulina had been threatening to boot her mom out of the house because of her insistence on carousing with the heathen devil-worshiper.

Said heathen was looking at her, smoke literally billowing from his nostrils.

He rubbed one finger across his sinful lips, green eyes smoldering.

“It was me,” Erica was saying next to her.

“I’m sorry,” Abigail said looking at her. “What?”

Erica smiled.

Abigail realized the girl’s eyes were always kind of bugged out, like she was always surprised or something.

“I’m the one who undressed you,” she shrugged with a giggle. “Thought you’d be more comfortable. I read somewhere that it’s not good to sleep with a bra on. Bad for your boobs and circulation or something. Gabriel busted Mike’s nose thinking he’d done it.” Erica laughed as Abigail gasped in shock. “Boys, huh?”

“Oh-my-God.” Abigail stalked toward where Mike and Gabriel talked. She stopped in front of Michael, taking in his battered face and then looked at Gabriel’s bruised knuckles. The man was a savage.

“Well, hello, Abigail,” the savage hissed tightly. “So glad you could finally join us.”

She pressed her lips together, her eyes going back to Michael who just grinned, electric guitar propped on one knee with his arm draped casually over the top of it.

“How’s Mikayla?’

The question startled her, her gaze swinging back to Gabriel’s cold green eyes.

She tipped her nose up, swallowing down the hurt that threatened to choke her. Michael scowled at Gabriel, but he just remained looking at her with pure poison in his expression.

“She’s just fine,” Abigail spat, remembering with distaste the way she’d carried on with the chauffer in the garage. The memory alone was enough to make her feel queasy.

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed and Abigail actually heard him tighten his teeth. Veins stood out in his arms and neck. Oh, the man looked furious.

Michael slid from his stool and set the guitar down. Abigail wasn’t sure if he made some sort of signal to the others, but Ariel was the first one to walk out after grabbing a beer for each hand. There was arguing by the drum kit. Apparently Angelo didn’t want to budge. He got up because Michael grabbed him by the back of his shirt an hauled him toward the stairs. Angelo gave Gabriel the stink eye, pointing at him with one of his drumsticks as he was dragged up the stairs. Gabriel curled one side of his lip and snarled.

Abigail turned back to him, arms crossed over her breasts. Gabriel just leaned back, thumb flicking a switch on the microphone.

There was nothing but silence between them now.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Raven?” she asked haughtily.

Gabriel shrugged. “So Daniel called and you went running?”

She frowned at him. “Daniel didn’t call me.”

“Oh?”

“No. It was Mikayla. You heard me talking to her.”

“And what did she want?”

Abigail just stared at him. Why was he interrogating her? She didn’t like it one bit, especially his tone and attitude.

“That’s personal family business,” she replied.

If anything, his eyes grew icier. The green so pale and the pupil so wide and black, he reminded her of a big cat about to kill its prey.

He looked away, a tendon in his jaw ticking.

She took the opportunity to look around as well, her belly feeling leaden with dread. She didn’t want to fight. She didn’t like it. Her heart was racing and her palms were sweaty. She wanted to collapse into his lap and touch him. Erase all this bad situation away with his kisses.

“I’ll get the guys to clear all this stuff out. We’ll be out of your hair in less than an hour.”

Her heart sank further. “’Kay,” she answered stupidly. Her eyes burned, but she blinked them hard. Not knowing what else to do she began heading toward the stairs.

Rafael burst into the lounge through the glass doors, his tightly curled hair a wild mess and eyes glittering. “Damn, Gabe. You have no fucking idea how hard it was for me and my buddies to locate your fucking house. Good thing Rick recognized your boat, man. Hey, Abs!”

He planted a hard kiss on her cheek as she just stared at him dumbfound.

“What’d I miss? Mike said you were inspired and writing some new tunes. Three songs so far.”

“I’m sorry,” Abigail said gripping his arm. “Did you say…Gabe’s house?”

Rafe laughed, but then his eyes widened as he looked at Gabriel.

Abigail felt a wave of cold dread wash over her. She turned to see Gabriel looking at Rafe, wide-eyed as well, before sliding a very guilty gaze back at her.

All this time she’d been living and sleeping in Gabriel’s house? He was paying her?

The horror of it floored her. Had he tricked her into living here to make it easier for him to seduce her? And he was paying her…as if she were a whore?

“Oh-god,” she whispered, closing her eyes as a wave of dizziness overtook her.

“Easy, Abs,” Rafe exclaimed gripping her arms.

“Abigail,” Gabriel called out. “It’s nothing. Don’t make a big deal out of this.”

He had the nerve to still sound angry? She gazed at him, feeling nothing but a strange numbness seeping into her. “I’m fine,” she told Rafe.

Rafe let her go and she made her way to her room. No. The room she slept in. For now.

“Abigail, get back here,” Gabriel snapped.

Abigail turned, hands fisted at her sides. She took a deep breath and said in her most polite, but direct, no nonsense tone, “Fuck you, Mr. Raven.”

And then she ran into the room, locked the door behind her, and threw up on the floor.