Make Me, Sir

rose.

“I came over to take you out for lunch, sugar.” He took her hand, then smiled at her parents. “I do apologize for the discourtesy of calling unannounced.”

Gabi tried to pull her hand away without her parents noticing, and amusement lit his eyes. She glowered at him. “Didn’t you see Vance and Galen?”

His grip flexed in a way that reminded her of how incongruously strong he was. “I did. They gave me your note and told me how much you looked forward to seeing me again.”

They did not. They wouldn’t. Would they? She remembered Galen’s expression when she’d said she didn’t want to talk to Marcus. “He deserves more than that,” he’d said.

This isn’t fair.

Marcus watched his little sub’s face flush a vivid pink. The big brown eyes had lit with joy when she’d seen him and now shot sparks at him. Smothering a laugh, he turned back to her parents. How had such a cold couple created someone as bright and warm as Gabi? He knew others like the Renards; his old law firm had been filled with their type. He hadn’t realized how much he’d enjoyed being away from pompous assholes until now.

He studied Gabi for a moment, having to suppress his rage at the sight of the bruising on her forehead, her cheek, her jaw. Her mangled wrists-he’d have to avoid hurting them. Yet just the sight of her filled him with pleasure.

“Mr. Renard.” He stood to shake hands with her father. “I believe someone said you work for Thompson and Dunn? In law?”

The man’s chest puffed slightly. “I specialize in corporate law, yes.”

“An intriguing field.” Marcus smiled and added, “I’m an assistant district attorney in Tampa.”

“Why how nice,” her mother said. The approving look Gabi got from her parents warmed Marcus’s heart and probably shot his chances with her to hell. “Can I get you something to drink, Mr. Atherton?”

“No. But thank you.” He smiled. “I didn’t mean to disturb your morning.” As he watched Gabi’s parents, their body language and expressions, Marcus could clearly see their attitude toward their daughter, that of two snooty Siamese cats faced with a bouncy puppy. His heart broke for her. As warm and perceptive as Gabi was… Had they been as disapproving of her when she’d been a child? No wonder she’d run away. He’d have joined her.

After today, if she still considered him anything like her father, Marcus would paddle her ass.

“We’d be pleased to have you join us for lunch here,” Mrs. Renard said.

“He can’t stay,” Gabi announced, her voice deliberately rude. She frowned at him. “I’m afraid I’m occupied today, Marcus. It’s a shame you didn’t call before you wasted your time.”

Her mother gasped, and her father’s face turned flat.

Marcus laughed. There she is, my little brat. Now to show her that her behavior wouldn’t drive him away. “You can spit at me all you want, darlin’,” he said, cupping her cheek and forcing her to meet his eyes. “Do bear in mind I deal with drug dealers, murderers-and worst of all, cops, every day. I doubt that you can shock me with your behavior.”

“You don’t want-”

“I do want.” He took her hand, moved his grip to her undamaged forearm to remind her who was in charge, and pulled her to her feet. “I appreciate you letting me interrupt your morning, ma’am, sir.” Without releasing Gabi-she’d make a run for it, he knew-he politely shook hands with her stunned father.

Then he simply dragged his insubordinate sub out of her parents’ house.

She tried to rebel again when he opened the car door for her. “Listen, this is not-I don’t want-”

“Gabrielle.” He cupped her cheek and looked down into her velvety brown eyes. “Get. In. The. Car.”

Gabi scrubbed her hands on her jeans and tried to show an impassive face as Marcus drove through the city. Didn’t he understand this wouldn’t work? Was he like some…some predator that gave chase if their prey ran from them?

“If you keep all those thoughts inside, your brain will explode,” he said lazily. He steered the car to the curb and took her hand in his. “We can discuss this right now, or we can wait until after lunch and then have at it. Your only choice is when.”

God, why did the determination in his deep voice turn her insides to liquid? She swallowed, wishing she saw a future for them. But look at him. In a suit, as always.

Then again, the way he’d acted at her parents’ house… He’d been rude to them. That wasn’t like him at all. I’m so confused. “Later. Please.”

“All right, darlin’.” He brushed her lips with a soft kiss, leaving her longing for more. After pulling a cell phone from his suit, he punched a number and a second later said, “We should get there in about thirty minutes.” The cell went back into his pocket.

“Who was that?”

“I thought since I’ve met your family today, you should meet mine. My grandparents will join us.”

What? She looked at her jeans and peasant top in horror, then stared at him. “Marcus, I’m not dressed for a nice restaurant.” Dear God, is he insane?

His lips quirked. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or insult. You didn’t worry about your appearance when you thought it was only me for lunch.”

Her mouth dropped open. She hadn’t, had she? “Ah…”

“You no longer think I’ll judge you by what you wear. We’re making progress, I do believe.” He tugged at the puffy sleeve of her top, the elastic letting him pull it down to expose her shoulder. He kissed the bare skin and murmured, “As it happens, I rather like this top.”

Great, her clothing was not only too casual, but the kind he’d want to play with. She pulled her sleeve up.

He pulled it down.

She was doomed.

He was still smiling ten minutes later when he turned his car into a drive. She frowned at the sign. “We’re going to the Animal Kingdom?” Mr. Suit and Disney?

“Are you allowed to live in Florida if you don’t like Disney?” He chuckled at the amazed look she gave him. At a guard station, he slowed to give his name and was waved on.

Not long afterward, Gabi stared in wonder as they walked through the African-themed lobby of the Kidani Lodge and down a spiral staircase to the Sanaa Restaurant. Hanging baskets mingled with pottery-jar lamps. Colorful cloth hangings and beaded mosaics decorated the walls. Tree branches seemed to dissolve into the thatched ceiling. She stopped to stare. “This is amazing.”

He smiled. “Wait until you see the view from the windows.” After slinging his gym bag over his shoulder, Marcus set his hand low on her back, guiding her toward a table where an older couple sat. His grandparents. In tan slacks and a short-sleeved shirt, the silver-haired man had keen eyes with a sunburst of wrinkles at the corners, a Roman nose, and a stern jaw. He rose as they approached.

“Gabrielle, this is my grandfather, Ben Atherton, and my grandmother, Abby.” His grandmother had tousled white curls, softly wrinkled skin, and an infectious smile.

Marcus kissed Gabi’s fingertips and finished, “And here is my very reluctant girlfriend, Gabi Renard.”

Reluctant. She would kill him…somehow…the minute they were alone. “It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Gramps,” Marcus said, “her father is William Renard, a lawyer with Thompson and Dunn International. You might have met him.”

Ben’s bushy brows drew together. “I’ve made his acquaintance, although I don’t recall having him in front of my bench.”

Marcus closed his hand around Gabi’s and murmured, “He doesn’t always sound like it, but Gramps was a judge before he retired.”

I complain about lawyers, so I get to eat lunch with a judge? This so isn’t fair.

“Very into rules and regulations. Pretty narrow-minded, I thought.” Ben tilted his head at Gabi and gave a considering look. “If what my grandson says about you is true, I bet you had him fit to be tied, young lady.”

Her mouth dropped for a second before she recovered. “Yes, I’m afraid I did.”

“Please sit, everyone,” Abby said.

Marcus seated Gabi and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be right back, sugar. I want to change.”