Quite Ordinary

GABRIEL

It's not hard to spot Rowan Bradley on the beach again. She's the only female in the sea of women at the party who's wearing a pair of shorts over the bottoms of her bikini. Her top is purple with ruffles that hang below her curvy breasts; I can see the sharp indent of the valley between them glistening beneath the shimmering moonlight. The shorts she wears are black, and they are, what I assume something she's worn to the Gym a time or two. She's alone and giggling by a climbing fire contained in a large rock pit, swaying back and forth to a Spanish track, the flicker of bright orange flames dancing across her long bare torso as she reaches her hands above her head to move with the music.

She's completely oblivious to the threat to her life, tossing her head back to finish off another mixed cocktail.

That makes a total of three coconut drinks — on top of the shot of Patrón her friend influenced her to take.

She's got to be ready for me now.

She must be hammered.

I keep her in my line of sight as I begin down the sandy beach to where she laughs and jumps up and down to the music now to wait for my moment to strike.

Five minutes later, it does.

"I'll be right back." She stumbles backward, "I have to pee!" She's not paying attention to her surroundings, so I purposely put myself in her way. She crashes into me with a wobbly stance. "Oh, no." She chuckles as she feebly spins around to face me with wide pale blue eyes. "I'm so, so sorry, Sir." She stutters, quickly losing the ability to form the sentence now that alcohol has flooded her system. I can smell all the tequila she's had on her breath as she talks.

The bonfire lights up her pale face, and I notice the spattering of freckles across the tops of her cheeks and nose. Her long natural red hair is pulled into a high ponytail, skimming the tops of her shoulders when she turns her head.

She's an attractive woman, I suppose, but I've seen my fair share of attractive women. I've fucked more than my fair share of them too. There is nothing about Rowan that makes her stand out to me. She fades to the background of the party and I wouldn't have even noticed her if I didn't have an agenda of my own. Nothing about her catches my eye or intrigues me. In fact, she's quite ordinary. Dull and plain.

"No worries." I stow my hands in the front pockets of my loose-fitting shorts.

It's showtime.

"Do you want me to buy you another beer?" She offers.

"No, that's okay." I decline with a gentle shake of my head. "No harm done."

"You're sure?" She turns her chin up with a soft smile. She does have near perfect white teeth, except for a canine tooth on the left side of her mouth that appears more sharp than normal. I guess she was born with her own weapon to defend herself in this cold, hard world.

I'll have to watch out for that once I get her back to my estate.

"I am."

At once, heat fills her face and her eyes bulge as she begins to shuffle on her sandaled feet, "I don't mean to bump and run, but I've got to-- I've got to go." She takes off up the hill like a bullet, in search of a bathroom, I assume. The alcohol has gone right through her. "Sorry again!" Her rushed voice fades away as she does.

After she goes, her friend — or so she thinks — approaches me carefully, looking away as she closes the distance, so she doesn't bring attention to us.

"I've changed my mind." Her voice is tight but shaky. "I'm not handing her over to you."

Of course, I don't technically need her to give Rowan to me. I'm taking her, and I don't require nor expect her consent. I don't want it either. I don't need permission for anything I do. I do what I want when I want, and I get what I want. And in this case what I want is Rowan.

"Miss Chambers, there is nothing you can do. Rowan's fate has already been sealed."

Her deep brown eyes harden, "You're not taking her."

"I won't have to take her." I narrow my eyes and curl my lip, "after I'm through with her here, she'll want to follow me home tonight."

"You're a sick bastard." She bites back.

I shrug, "So I've heard."

"I'll call the cops! I'll call her brother right now." She resorts to throwing out empty threats. If anything, they only fuel me to go on.

"Do you think that I don't have eyes in the Mexican police department? Do you really believe I would travel this far unprepared? I have come all this way to collect Rowan, and that's what I'm fucking doing." I drop my voice to a low but severe whisper, remembering an important lesson I'd been shown at an early age. The men who were capable of keeping their heads while pissed off were the men who ruled the fucking world. That's how it was with my father. I never saw him lose his shit. Ever. Even when he was striking me or Roman with whatever was closest to him in the moment. He always remained in control. The beatings never happened when he was mad. They came at night when he wanted to teach us how to be men, showing us that pain made us stronger, and emotion was weakness.

Sara's scared eyes move across my face, and I think I even see her lip quiver. "Please, "She mutters when she realizes there is nothing that is going to stop me from succeeding in my task. "she's my best friend."

I might have believed that if she hadn't told me of her and Rowan's plans for this very vacation. But she did. She set the whole thing up for me. She threw her so-called best friend to the wolf after I agreed to foot the bill for her father's drug trial in Africa. I promised that he would get the best care available if she helped me take possession of Rowan. It took some convincing, of course, but money was ultimately the deciding factor to betray Rowan in the end. Fear for her cancer-ridden father trumped any fear she had for her friend. Her best friend who she sacrificed to a man with very dark intentions.

"Let's not forget your role in all of this."

"I didn't have a choice." She sniffles. "I had to save my dad."

"And the slight chance of that happening was worth more to you than Rowan Bradley's life?"

The color drains from her face, "You're not— oh, please, you can't kill her."

I hadn't thought that far ahead. I'm only focused on getting Rowan strapped to the bed in my mansion right now. I might decide to let her live after I'm through with her. Or I might just decide to end her life the same way my sister left this world — with a bullet through her heart.

This constant ache in my chest might finally subside if I spill Rowan's blood the same way her brother spilled Olivia's.

"What did you think I wanted her for when you agreed to my demands?" I rumble.

"I thought that once you saw her you would no longer be able to hurt her." She confesses sadly.

So she assumed I would reconsider if I met her. My last name may be Hart, but any heart I had died when my mother burned to death in a plane when I was five years old. And then a catacomb locked away the ashes when Olivia's heart stopped beating.

I won't have any problem causing Rowan Bradley pain because I know that whatever I make her feel, her brother will feel it all ten times worse. I know that every time I torment her, I'll be making him suffer even more, and the reality of making that asshole feel even just a sliver of what I feel everyday makes me feel fucking invincible.

"Her brother destroyed any conscience I had."

"But she doesn't want anything to do with him." She begs, "she doesn't even speak to either one of them!"

"Maybe not." I shrug again, "but that hasn't stopped them from reaching out to her. She's their pride and joy after all."

She opens her mouth for a rebuttal, but Rowan stumbles back over to rejoin the conversation.

"Hey, Ro." Sara fixes her face and sighs. She knows she's been defeated.

"I see you've already met— "Rowan says with a tilt of her head, waiting for my name.

"Gabriel. Gabriel Hart." I plaster a friendly grin on my lips and reach out to shake her hand. Her small hand feels warm briefly in my clutch, and I pull away just as fast as I touch her.

"Gabriel." She nods with a half smirk that makes a deep dimple appear in her cheek.

"Yes, we met while you were off at the bathroom." Sara fakes a smile of her own but glares at me out of the corner of her eyes, just out of Rowan's line of sight.

"Oh!" Rowan exclaims excitedly and grabs my hand again, "I'm Rowan, by the way."

I'm caught off guard by the sudden touch, but I calmly pull away, "Nice to meet you, Rowan."

It's nice to finally fucking meet you.

"You as well." Her smile spreads, but the lonely dimple stays.

I've never met anyone else with only one dimple like she has. She's unique in that way, like a rare gem — and I'm going to leave my mark all over her. A slight breeze whips through the air and a fly away curl falls from her ponytail that she tucks behind her ear.

Through Rowan's drunken fog her long eyelashes flutter against her cheeks as she stares at my pretty face. I'm aware of the effect I have on women, so it's not a surprise when she falters beneath my chiseled Italian good looks.

"Well, we better get back to the hotel now— "Sara clears her throat to get her intoxicated friend's attention. I know what she's doing, but it won't work. I'm walking away from this beach with Rowan tonight. Even if I must drag her away by her hair.

"No. I don't want to go just yet." Rowan shakes her head and pouts immaturely.

Sheltered kids are always such brats. I have my work cut out for me with this one I can already feel it. "I have an idea, why don't you head off to the hotel? I'll make sure Rowan gets to where she needs to be." I suggest heavily, choking back a chuckle, hinting slyly toward abduction for my own amusement because I'm a bastard.

Sara's sorrow-filled look jumps from me to Rowan for what feels like an eternity before her lip trembles as she pulls Rowan in for a tight hug. "I'm sorry." She chokes.

But naïve Rowan only assumes she's apologizing for turning in early on her birthday. "It's fine. I will see you in the morning."

Foolish girl.

She won't be returning, of course. She'll be locked away in my mansion where no one will come looking for her because they won't be able to find us. It'll be just us, my butler, and an arsenal of tools to take my payment from her.

I haven't decided what that will be yet, but I'm going to take my time with her.

When Sara doesn't pull away quick enough, Rowan groans and steps back, swatting her away. "Okay, I'll be fine."

Sara thinks for a moment before deciding on not challenging me in front of all these people. She's made the right choice because I will do whatever is necessary to walk away from this beach with Rowan. I have a swarm of men just waiting for a signal, and they'll crash this party so fast if it comes to that. I want to collect her without interruptions or mishaps, but I will make a scene if I absolutely have to.

She falls silent, but her eyes plead to me one last time before she turns to run up the beach. I'm not even sure Rowan hears her cry as she walks away.

"What do you say we find somewhere to talk?" I place my hand on her lower-back, and her skin is warm to the touch as I walk her to a secluded cabana a few feet away from prying eyes. The music fades to the background but the waves that crash to the shore sounds like a melody of nature.

She miscalculates the length of the step and falls onto the soft cushion with a sharp giggle, "Whoops."

This is too easy.

She's fucking cocked out of her mind.