Page 91 of Back in Black

Shit. He needed to think about something else before he joined her in the shower. She needed some time without him pawing at her, and they really did have other issues to deal with. He was first and foremost a businessman, and getting things back on track would now have to be a priority.

As he strolled around her apartment, he made note of everything. Gillian had a nice place, girly like her, but also orderly and functional. High-end pieces filled the place, telling him that Gillian liked the finer things in life. But he didn’t have a problem with that. He could afford to give her anything she wanted. With him, she’d never want for anyth—

Whoa.Drew put the brakes on that thought, which encompassed the foreseeable future. Dragging out their relationship was one thing; he loved having sex with her, and her company pleased him.

But was he ready for anything more?

Being with Gillian long term wasn’t an insufferable thought. God knew, she looked like a million bucks; any guy would be proud to be seen with her. And in all social settings, she had a classy way of presenting herself that made her stand out from the crowd. She wasn’t intimidated by him, even when he lost his temper. And she didn’t simper the way some women did.

She was honest but tactful, sincere but strong willed . . . Losing her, now that would be intolerable.

How did she feel about it?

Drew paced into her kitchen and over to a set of balcony doors that overlooked a fountain in the courtyard. Gillian was independent enough that she wouldn’tneeda man. Not for anything.

He was used to fight groupies coming on in droves, but a woman like Gillian was unique. She enjoyed their lovemaking as much as he did, but did she want him beyond the physical?

Maybe he should start with that—find out how she felt—and then he’d figure out his own feelings.

With that decision made, Drew was able to concentrate on his messages. The price of business was that he spent more damn time on the phone than doing anything else.

He’d gotten through four return calls to promoters and sponsors before Fran started calling. Repeatedly.

Knowing he had her in a panic, Drew didn’t take her calls and instead let them go to voice mail.

Let her stew, he decided. He was still pissed off over her rudeness to Gillian.

He was on his sixth call, talking to Marcus Gorman, the hard-boiled investigator he’d hired after the bomb threat at Roger’s Rodeo, when Gillian came into the kitchen. She’d already dressed and fixed her hair and makeup. She looked sexy, beautiful, and ready to take on the world.

Drew marveled at her serene expression and innate poise. Since knowing him, so much had happened to her, most of it unpleasant. But it didn’t get her down. It struck him then that while she was as feminine as a woman could be, she had a fighter’s spirit. Beneath her voluptuous curves and silky soft exterior was the core of a champion, with the same unrelenting heart and never-die determination.

Drew laughed, and not only did his caller pause, but Gillian glanced at him with a brow raised.

In that instant, any doubts he’d felt were gone. He knew he didn’t want to let her go, not ever.

Silently, she mouthed,What?

He covered the mouthpiece and said, “You’re beautiful. That’s all.”

With an exaggerated eye roll and a special little swish to her backside, she turned away. As she began making coffee, Drew forced his attention back to Marcus.

“Sorry. What were you saying?”

“The police found the car that hit your photographer.”

“Notmyphotographer.” Drew snorted. It was too bad the schmuck had died, but he wasn’t about to lay claim to him. “What of it?”

“It was abandoned by the riverbank, and get this—someone had doused it in gasoline and then torched it. All that was left was a heap of metal and the barely distinguishable license plates.”

“Any idea who it belonged to?” Not that Drew expected it to be that easy.

“Yeah, but that’s a dead end. The guy had reported the car stolen earlier in the night. I have the owner’s name if you want it. He’s an older guy, retired, and he’s never even heard of mixed martial arts. He had the car insured, but he’s mostly broken up because it belonged to his deceased wife. She passed away two years ago.”

“Damn.” Drew turned to Gillian. “Write something down for me, will you, honey?”

“Oh.” She opened the drawer he indicated and took out a pen and some paper. “Okay, shoot.”

Drew got the man’s information from Marcus and shared it with Gillian. She didn’t ask any questions, just took down the name and address and then went about her business.

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