Page 13 of Dare to Surrender (NY Dares 1)
Although I’d definitely call Lisa, my old boss, on Monday, for now, the best I could do was make a list of impressive interior designers. I culled names I’d seen in magazines or had met through people in Lance’s crowd, moving on to magazines and listings there. Finally, there was nothing more I could do until the workweek began.
I bought hotdogs from a street vendor for lunch, picked up a paperback at a nearby bookstore, and settled under a tree to read. Yeah, I know I was supposed to take some time and think, but I didn’t like the way my thoughts were leading me, the yearning to go back to Gabe. How could I be so drawn to a man I didn’t know? And why, oh why did I want to learn more? Getting lost in a book made more sense than racking my brain for answers I just didn’t have.
By four p.m., my stomach was grumbling, I was tired and cranky, and after a day with a book, I’d come to the realization that there was no shame in not having figured out my life’s plan after a mere twenty-four hours. It’s not like I knew ahead of time I would be leaving my home for the unknown. At least now I was in a better position than if I’d woken up at a cheap motel with even less money in my pocket. And I decided I was through running away from my problems. Which meant I’d better head back and deal with the man who was causing the hodgepodge of feelings swirling in my gut.
I walked back to the sprawling apartment building and stopped by the doorman, who was not the same man who’d been on duty last night.
“Can I help you?” he asked.
“Is Mr. Dare in?”
“You must be Ms. Masters. He’s been calling down every few minutes asking if you’d returned yet.”
My eyes opened wide. It never dawned on me that Gabe would be concerned. It should have, but I was too thrown by … well, everything. I bit down on my lip. “Please call up and tell him I’m on my way?”
He smiled, treating me to a kindly look that made me think he was a father or a grandfather. Someone who also cared about people. Someone unlike my own parents. And on that unpleasant thought, I headed for the elevator, holding my breath, suddenly nervous.
The elevator doors opened, and I was stunned to find him waiting in the darkened, moody hallway, arm braced on the doorframe. He wore dark jeans and a long-sleeved, collared shirt, white, unbuttoned enou
gh to tempt yet still give him that in-control, dangerously sexy air. His dark brown hair was tousled, as if he’d run his fingers through it in frustration more than a few times.
His eyes lit on me, and in that instant, longing caught in my throat, along with a healthy dose of wariness. Because no matter what I felt when I laid eyes on him, this morning’s hard truths hadn’t changed. And though I’d returned, I needed to understand what was going on between us before I could stay.
I stepped out and paused in front of him.
“You’re okay.” The words came out a mix of anger and relief.
I swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“And how should I have known? You’ve been gone since early this morning.” He stepped forward then stopped himself, visibly holding himself back from me.
I winced. “I suppose I should have left you a note, but—”
“Yes, you should have.”
I looked down, chastened, hating it and yet … oddly affected by his mix of emotions. Because that meant he still cared? Desired me?
Was that what I wanted?
I thrust my fingers into my tangled hair. “I’m sorry if you thought—”
“You have no idea what I was thinking.” He gestured inside his apartment with a flick of his wrist.
Even as a part of me rebelled at his command, I strode past him, head high, acknowledging the part of me that was pleased he’d been concerned. When was the last time anyone had thought about my welfare?
He slammed the door shut behind him before turning back to face me. “Do you want to know what went through my mind?”
I swallowed hard. “Of course.”
“Let’s see. First, I thought Daltry had come by. I wondered if you’d changed your mind and left with him,” Gabe bit out.
Oh, Gabe. “I wouldn’t just pick up and leave after you’ve been so kind.”
“I thought we’d gone over this. I’m not kind,” he said in a tone meant to convince me.
He failed.
“Well, to me you are.” And suddenly it didn’t matter what he’d done to Naomi; I was different. He treated me better. Or was I deluding myself as I’d done with Lance? My stomach tumbled at the thought. “Do you want to know where I’ve been?” I asked.
