Corrupted Queen - Nicole Fox Page 0,52
fitted maroon dress with cap sleeves and a high neck and pair it with some plain black heels. I run a brush through my hair and then twist it around my fingers, trying to tease some of the curls back in. I don’t have time to do my hair properly. I wish Gabriel had given me a little notice.
When I’ve done all I can do, I get Harry ready and go down to meet Gabriel in the foyer. He is standing by the front door, and checks his watch as I click down the stairs. If I am late, he wisely does not reprimand me for it.
“Why the sudden desire to go to lunch?” I ask.
“Everyone needs to eat, don’t they?”
It’s not quite the answer I was looking for, and I think he knows that.
Gabriel looks me up and down and gives a short, approving nod. I guess I dressed appropriately.
He ushers us outside and into the waiting car, and once we’re all settled in the back I turn to him and frown.
“What’s this about?” I ask. “You’ve barely spoken to me for the past few days.”
“Perhaps I am trying to remedy that.”
I’m not convinced. There’s some sort of agenda here, I just need to figure out what it is. Is he going to give me bad news? Is he selling me to the Irish? Or does he just really want to get a restaurant lunch but doesn’t want to eat alone?
No matter how hard I stare at him throughout the car ride, Gabriel does not reveal his secrets. If he is trying to remedy our lack of communication, spending the whole journey on his phone is a bad way to start. I only hope that when we get to the restaurant—if that is indeed our intended destination— he gets a little chattier. Otherwise it’s going to be a long, uncomfortable afternoon.
Rather than a restaurant, however, the car parks in front of a towering apartment building in the city. Gabriel leads me inside and the doorman greets us pleasantly.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“I thought taking you to another of my properties would be a nice change of scenery,” he replies as we enter the elevator. He presses the button for the penthouse and we begin the slow ascent.
“I don’t know why I’m surprised that you own a penthouse in the city,” I mutter. “You own everything else.”
This brings a hint of a smile to Gabriel’s face, but otherwise his expression doesn’t crack. He’s being even colder than usual. What the hell is wrong with him?
The doors slide open to a gorgeous suite decked out in somewhat dated gold and vanilla tones. Though everything is sparkling clean, there is a sense of disuse to the space. I wonder when the last time Gabriel was here.
Gabriel leads me down a hallway with pink marble floors and into a lofty dining room not unlike the one in the mansion. A long table is set with three places at one end of it—Gabriel at the head, obviously, and then a place on either side of him, one of them with a high chair in place of the sleek wooden dining chair.
I frown. “You’ve put Harry next to you instead of me.”
“So?” Gabriel asks, lifting Harry from my arms and settling him into the high chair.
“So I can’t feed him from across the table,” I complain. I pick up the plate from my spot. “I’ll go sit on the other side of him.”
“You will not,” Gabriel says, his voice heavy with the command.
I pause, narrowing my eyes at him. “Why not?”
“I’m going to feed him,” Gabriel replies. He raises his brow in challenge.
It’s not like Gabriel has never fed Harry before, but it seems weird for him to insist on it. Less work for me, though, so I shrug and put the plate back in its spot. Just as I am about to sit down, Gabriel tuts, coming behind me to pull my chair out.
I am unable to hide the suspicion in my tone. “Thanks.”
Gabriel takes his seat at the head of the table, and a male server in a black suit sweeps in from the other room with a bottle of wine. He fills our glasses with the ruby liquid and pops a grape juice box in front of Harry. Then he’s gone.
“This seems oddly formal for a family lunch,” I comment, sipping my wine.
“If you have the option of having the best, why would you not?” he counters.
“Juice!” Harry says, flapping his arms