Listen to yourself, she thought, you’re going soft already. She laughed. “Okay, I’ll go. We’ll put the thumbscrews on big brother together.”
“That’s my girl,” he said. “See you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Good night.”
“Thanks for dinner,” he called as he drove off. And with a wave of his hand and a flash of white teeth, he was gone.
Gaby went upstairs to her own room and gazed out the window. Was she doing the right thing? She thought back to her youth, to the heart Marc had broken, to the aching humiliation of their final meeting. Her eyes went hard. Yes, it was the right thing. It didn’t matter what Joe’s motives were; her own were the only ones that concerned her. She could needle Marc if she kept her head. She could make him feel the same torment he’d inflicted on her. And she ignored the tiny voice that argued that she was more vulnerable than he was. The sight of him would be bittersweet anguish. To see him, be with him again, even with Lana Moore between them...no, that wasn’t why she was going, it wasn’t! She turned abruptly from the window and went to bed.
GABY SAW JOE frequently after that. She expected Marc to try to put a stop to it, but she saw no evidence of any interference. She was relieved, but in a way it bothered her, too, because Gaby hated thinking Marc didn’t even care. She had to admit that she preferred his antagonism to his indifference and she wanted to hurt him as much as he’d hurt her.
Meanwhile Joe was good fun. He had excellent manners and a dry sense of humor. He took her to the most expensive, delightful kinds of places. She’d been accustomed to high living all her life, so she never questioned the kind of money Joe had. Motocraft must really be an enterprise, Gaby thought, because even a vice president got rich at it. But, then, Marc was Joe’s brother, and she imagined Marc didn’t mind sharing. He’d once seemed the soul of generosity to her. Back in the days before he began to worship money and would do anything for it.
Joe had more cars than anyone Gaby had ever known. He changed them almost daily, going from his Jaguar to a Mercedes to a Corvette and then to a renovated MG Midget. Gaby liked the Midget most of all, probably because it wasn’t new and it seemed to have a personality all its own. They alternated between going to restaurants and Joe’s apartment, where he had a giant screen for his VCR. There they could watch first-run movies with popcorn provided by the woman who cooked for Joe and his roommate, Bob Donalds. Bob often joined them for the movies. He was good company, too, a real estate agent with a live-wire personality, just the opposite of Joe. Bob never seemed to mind company, and he liked Gaby. He was tall and redheaded and teased Gaby about being some long-lost relative because their hair was the same shade.
Gaby had been with Joe almost every day for three weeks. He seemed to just hang around where she was working. She wondered if he was on vacation or if Marc paid him to stay away.
She teased him about that once, and he gave her a startled look. “Well, Marc pretty much lets me do what I please, you know,” he mumbled, and quickly changed the subject. She shrugged it off, since he didn’t seem inclined to talk about it. And she really wasn’t interested in his business affairs. She enjoyed being around him.
They went dancing and out to eat and to movies whenever Gaby’s busy schedule would allow. She ran her long legs off auditioning for jobs, posing for stills and doing runway modeling. She was popular and made a lot of money. But it cost a lot to maintain her wardrobe and pay the bills.
Gaby didn’t particularly enjoy the lifestyle that went with modeling, and before Joe came along, she’d avoided the crowd she worked with. But Joe, despite his shyness, seemed fascinated with her world, so she introduced him to it. There were show-business personalities, politicians, even millionaires who circulated at the exclusive parties Gaby and her friends were invited to. She often thought she knew people only invited her to these parties because of her looks and because she was becoming a well-known model. Because of that she seldom accepted invitations. But she went to humor Joe. Marc didn’t approve, and that made Joe all the more determined to do it. That was the one thing she and Joe had in common. They both liked doing things to spite Marc, to antagonize him. The holidays were only a week away now, and Gaby had already packed. She’d been all over Europe with her family but, oddly enough, had rarely visited the Hamptons, which was only a few hours from New York City. She was looking forward to the break in her busy schedule, despite the fact that she was sure Joe had gloated over it to his brother by now. He hadn’t mentioned Marc’s reaction, and Gaby hadn’t asked for it. She was going to go and enjoy herself and not worry. Let Marc smolder. Vaguely she remembered the threat he’d made, but she hadn’t taken him seriously. He had Lana to occupy him. He would never put that relationship at risk just to irritate Gaby. She shook the thought from her head, forcing herself to dwell on happy thoughts instead.
Her mirror told her that she’d changed quite a bit from the young girl who’d worshipped Marcus Stephano. She was no longer the skinny, eager, very unsophisticated child who’d been such easy prey for his seductive ardor. Even nine years ago Marc had been an expert.
Despite all the time that had passed, the memories were indelible. She remembered the last time she’d been alone with Marc, that evening when it had almost gone too far. Her eyes closed and she sighed as the memories caressed her mind.
She and Marc had gone to a movie, she remembered. It was one of many times she’d had to sneak out of her house to keep her parents from knowing that she was seeing a boy from the wrong side of the tracks. It had been a late-afternoon matinee, because it was too difficult to get out at night. The racy movie, combined with the danger of discovery, had given Gaby an unfamiliar and delicious taste of intrigue. She’d watched the people on the screen and imagined that they were she and Marc, loving each other wildly. It had stirred her unbearably. When he suggested that they stop by his apartment for coffee on the way home, she hadn’t questioned the uncharacteristic nature of the invitation. He’d been careful until then to make sure they were never completely alone.
But once in the apartment, he’d closed the door and locked it. And as he’d stood there, big and dark in his navy slacks and open-throated white shirt, her heart had begun to pound wildly. He was incredibly sensuous with his chiseled mouth, black eyes and tanned, olive body that hinted of untold delights. The way he’d looked at Gaby that night told her graphically that coffee wasn’t all he wanted.
Gaby trembled as she thought of that long-ago night. She’d wanted him so badly. All the stolen minutes, the hard kisses, the too quick touching of hands on forbidden skin. All of it had exploded in a tangible expression of longing that night.
He’d come toward her slowly, tugging her against his big body, his eyes already apologetic even as he bent and kissed her in a way he never had before. She felt his hard mouth tremble in a caress tender enough to make her shiver too. It was wildly erotic, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth, his hands low on her hips, moving her against him so that she could feel his arousal.
“Sleep with me,” he’d whispered, his voice husky with passion. “Come into my bedroom and let me take off your clothes and make love to you completely.”
“You said...we wouldn’t,” she’d whispered, wanting him but frightened and uncertain. “You said—”
“Yes, I know, and I should be shot,” he’d replied, his face hard with desire. “But I need you so much, little one.” His big hands had crushed her thighs against his, and his eyes had been hot with desire.
“Oh, Marc,” she’d whispered at his mouth as he bent and took it again, with more insistence this time.
“Don’t be afraid of me,” he’d told her. “I’ll take good care of you. I’ll make it easy and slow and sweet for you. I’ll take a long, long time, little Gaby. I’ll take you right to heaven.”
He’d