Page 13 of Touched By Destiny

There was hurt in Eric’s eyes, but he bent to comply as Gabriel raced to the bathroom. Yanking a washcloth off a towel rack, Gabriel wet it thoroughly, then returned to the spot where he’d left Eric and shoved it at him. Once Eric took it, Gabriel returned to the restroom and washed up. He glanced in the mirror and found a terrified man with thoroughly mussed hair staring back at him. Refusing to think about how wonderful it’d felt to have Eric’s hands raking through his locks, Gabriel smoothed the errant strands and closed his eyes.

Having sex with Eric was without a doubt the most monumentally stupid thing he’d ever done. Not even the death awaiting him was reason enough to cast side his scruples and give in to his baser instincts. He placed none of the blame on Eric’s shoulders. What had tempted him to share those frenzied moments with Gabriel was a mystery, but Eric was entitled to his secrets.

The most important thing was for them not to repeat the mistake. Regret and guilt soured Gabriel’s mood, and his glower was dark as he reentered the room. Thankfully, Eric had tugged his clothes on, and he stood there with his chin raised. His eyes were both stalwart and nervous. At least he wasn’t crying or chastising himself for fucking his security guard.

“We should talk,” Eric said softly.

“It’s probably better if we don’t,” Gabriel replied, keeping his tone neutral and flat. “We’re both unattached adults, and we were horny. We should get back to the club.”

“It wasn’t just sex.”

Gabriel’s expression was impassive, and he refused to think about those sacred moments when their souls had touched. “Sure it was.”

“Are you going to pretend there’s nothing between us? I saw our souls. It was the first step of a binding.”

“Regret, Eric,” Gabriel said sharply. Then lied through his teeth. “Regret is the only thing I have in my soul right now.”

Eric stared at him, his gaze darkened with emotions Gabriel couldn’t interpret. For countless moments they stood there, until Gabriel had no choice but to look away…no longer able to pretend he was unaffected. He focused on a spot above Eric’s shoulder and pretended he wasn’t a coward.

“Then you’re right,” Eric eventually said. Like Gabriel, his tone lacked inflection. “We have nothing to discuss, and we should get back.”

With a brisk nod, Gabriel walked quickly past Eric and tried not to notice the musky and enticing scent of him as he whipped open the door. Fully composed and back ramrod straight, Eric elegantly left the hotel room. It couldn’t have been easy for Eric to deal with his rejection, but Gabriel was proud of him for taking it in stride. He fell a little harder for the beautiful, confident, and alluring man he couldn’t have.

Chapter 7

Eric hustled toward the club with his dignity in tatters. In the dozen years since he’d first understood that his feelings for Gabriel went beyond friendship, he’d imagined a million different scenarios. But none of them had included an indifferent Gabriel insisting they weren’t soulmates and that regret was the only thing they had in common.

His knees were still wobbly after his blistering orgasm, but Eric wasn’t thinking about the passionate way Gabriel had kissed him or how his firm grip and hot mouth had coaxed an incomparable orgasm from his too-willing body. The loud music assaulted his ears the moment Eric opened the door, and although it’d been schooled into him to never enter a room before Gabriel signaled him to, he sauntered through it without looking back.

Ironically, the lone danger Eric had encountered that night had come in the form of Gabriel. With no expression beyond boredom, Gabriel had unequivocally insisted that powerful merging of silver and white was nothing more than Eric’s imagination. Was it possible? Had Eric wanted so badly to have Gabriel as his soulmate that he’d manifested it in his mind as he had sex for the first time?

Confused, hurt, and wishing he had the comfort of solitude his bedroom at home offered, Eric was less than three feet into the room when Gabriel called his name. Eric ignored him and searched for his brother. Richard was still gyrating on the dais with Maribeth and Douglas. If Eric hadn’t given in to his stupid impulses, he’d be up there with them…without his every fanciful dream shattered.

Richard glanced his way, and his eyes narrowed. Shoving aside anyone in his way, Richard marched up to Eric and grabbed his arm.

“What the fuck happened?” Richard hissed near his ear. “Do I need to kill him?”

Unable to speak, Eric shook his head.

“Damn it, Eric, where the fuck are you going?” Gabriel shouted as Richard hauled Eric toward the back of the club.

“We’re going to take a piss,” Richard shouted behind them. “So, unless you intend to watch, which I hardly think is part of your job description, I suggest you back off.”

Richard yanked the door open and bared his teeth at the two inspirits from Maribeth’s office they’d invited to their night of revelry.

“Get out,” Richard ordered in such a sharp tone that neither man argued, and they hustled out.

After snapping the lock closed, Richard turned Eric around to face him and cupped his cheek. “What happened, sweetie? Did he hurt you physically? Because I swear I will fucking leave him in a ditch somewhere so the vultures can peck away at his decaying flesh if he did.”

Blinking at his brother’s vivid imagery, Eric bit his lip and didn’t even try holding in his tears. “No.”

There was a harsh pounding on the door, and Richard glared as he roared, “What?”

“Open this fucking door, Richard,” Maribeth demanded.

With a roll of his eyes, Richard turned on his heel and let Maribeth in, then slammed and locked the door again.

“Where’s Douglas?” Richard asked.

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