Dare to Surrender by Carly Phillips Page A

hand over his stubbled jaw, obviously considering what to say next, and a gnawing ache ate at my stomach as I waited for him to continue.
    “That room has been the extent of my dealings with women for more years than I can remember.” He steepled his fingers and stared at me for a long while before finally speaking. “I normally don’t bring women to my bed, but I don’t want to be in their space either.”
    “Too intimate?” I asked him, leaning back in my seat, as if I had no problem with his women or his habits.
    “Much.” Those dark eyes probed into mine.
    “That’s sad,” I said, rising to my feet. I picked up my dish, then his, intending to clean up the meal.
    He clamped his hand on my wrist. “Leave it.”
    “You cooked, I’ll clean.”
    He didn’t release me, his grip tightening. “It can wait. Amelia will be in tomorrow.”
    I shook my head in automatic denial. “I don’t want to make extra work for her. I can—”
    “But you won’t.” His voice brooked no argument.
    I shook my hand free. “Mind if I ask why not?”
    “I work too hard to make the life of those I care about easy, and I pay those who work for me too much for you to worry about it.”
    “Oh.” I tried to see his point of view, but I’d grown up in an average house, where I was expected to take care of chores and help with daily tasks.
    Even Lance, who brought in help for parties and had a cleaning service in weekly, had expected me to handle the everyday duties of running a house. But that wasn’t the only thing about Gabe’s proclamation that stood out. I work too hard to make the life of those I care about easy . I could understand him feeling that way about himself. His sister when she stayed over. Even his brother, when they weren’t bickering.
    But me? How had I become one of those he cared about in such a short span of time? Don’t you care about him ? a small voice in the back of my head asked.
    I wanted to concentrate on understanding him. “Let me get this straight. You don’t bring women into your bed. You don’t go to their homes, hence the extra bedroom.”
    He inclined his head in agreement but remained silent, giving me a chance to formulate my next question, which I knew he wouldn’t like, but I intended to ask it anyway.
    “You’ve made it clear you want to … fuck me…”
    Gabe’s irises darkened to a stormy hue. “I do want—and plan—to fuck you.”
    I’d chosen to repeat his word, a term I’d never used before.
    At least not in a context relating to me and any man I’d ever been intimate with. Not that there’d been many. And I didn’t appreciate the fact that my body didn’t seem to care whether I used the word fuck , sex , or making love —all of those terms, when spoken in reference to myself and Gabe, turned my insides to mush and dampened the tiny g-string panties I’d been forced to borrow from the drawer in the bedroom.
    “Your point, kitten?” His lean, chiseled body shook with barely leashed power and the restraint it took for him not to touch me.
    I could see it. Feel it. I wanted him too, but I needed clarity more.
    I rocked on my bare feet. “My point being, I’m in the room next to yours… Is that because the other room hasn’t been cleaned?” I wrinkled my nose, unable to control the disdain in my tone.
    He clenched his jaw tight, and his gaze slid away.
    Right. I wrapped my arms around myself.
    “It’s not like I thought it out. And it’s not like I had to since there was only that one room available.”
    I nodded. “Okay.” It made sense. Hurt on some stupid level, but made sense.
    He clenched his jaw. “Are you finished?” he asked, clearly unhappy with the direction of my thoughts.
    I shook my head. No, I was not finished, and he was about to get more upset because I had questions that demanded answers. He’d told me Naomi didn’t mean much to him, but that could have been something he’d said to appease me.
    I cleared my throat and forged ahead.