Freedom! She walked several blocks before she felt she could hail a taxi.

“Where’ll it be?” the driver asked.

Making a spur of the moment decision for the first time in her life, she said, “I love American jazz music. Do you know of anywhere?”

“The best club in the city.”

“Then I should like to go there.” She pulled off the glasses, shoving them in her shoulder bag.

“You got it, lady.”

Being addressed so informally by someone of short acquaintance was new to Gabriella. ‘Your highness’ or ‘Princess’ was her usual address. She had to remember this was everyday America. America didn’t have royalty. “Merci.”

“Here?” Gabriella was dubious when she was taken to what appeared to be an abandoned building.

“It looks like hell from out here. Keeps put the riffraff off. Downstairs. It’s the hot ticket in town for jazz. Tell them Mickey G brought you.”

She nodded, then paid the man. Gathering her things, she got out and headed down the steps.

“Twenty dollars,” the rough looking man at the door demanded.

“Mickey G brought me,” she told him.

The guy gave her a curt nod. “Still gotta pay the cover.”

“Certainly.” She handed the man the requested money.

He nodded toward the back. “Through that door and up the stairs.”

“Thank you.”

Walking through the small, dark bar, she ignored the leers of appreciation and the occasional whistle.

Mounting the stairs, she entered a spacious loft with a stage dominating one wall. There were clusters of tables occupied by mostly well-dressed or studiedly casual people. She determined that the musicians must be on break. Spotting a man sitting alone, she decided to find a seat before the music started again.

“The room is quite crowded. Might I sit here?”

JC looked up to see a beautiful girl at his side. “I—um—I guess so.”

Gabriella gave him a smile. “Merci.”

Cool man, JC reminded himself as his knee began to bounce, as was his nervous habit. She took a seat directly across from him at the small table. That meant they had to make small talk. Damn! He wasn’t particularly good at it when a gorgeous woman was involved. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“A cola would be nice. Merci.”

He knew the accent was vaguely French, but he couldn’t understand the language.

JC waved a waiter down, ordering a cola for her and a glass of wine for himself.

“I never knew American men drank wine other than with a meal.”

JC shrugged. “I like wine.”

As she glanced about the room, JC found his fingers going towards his mouth. He would not bite his fingernails in front of her. He was trying not to. “I—um…you said American men.”

“I am a tourist in your country.”

“You have that lilt and that poise European women have.”

She gave him a small smile. “Merci…Mister?…”

“JC. Call me JC.”

“You may call me Gabby.” No one in her life with exception of Julie had ever called her that – it should confuse people looking for her!

“Gabby? Short for Gabrielle? Or because you talk too much?”

“I do like the sound of my voice,” she answered.

She had the sweetest smile. It made him want to melt into a puddle, he thought.

Gabby reached across the table to pull the man’s fingertips from his mouth. “Mon Dieu! Do I make you that nervous?”

JC was glad for the dim lighting -- she couldn’t see him blush. With a sheepish, half-smile, he answered, “Yeah, a little.”

“I promise not to bite.”

“I didn’t think you would.”

Their eyes caught and held. They were suspended in time…

“Hey, someone’s in my chair!” Chris’ voice broke the spell.

Gabby looked up. “I can move,” she offered.

“I—uh—no, that’s all right.” Her innocent beauty captivated Chris.

Joey said, “Introduce us to your new friend, JC.”

“Gabby, these are my friends: Lance, Justin, Chris, and Joey.”

“Nice to meet you, Gabby,” the sweet-faced blonde with a low, mellow voice said.

“Hey, Gabby!” was all the closely shaven, tall young man said.

“Hi, Gabby!” Chris, the short one with a beard and spiky hair chirped.

“Here alone?” Joey, the taller one with a beard asked.

She flicked a look at JC, then back to the other men. “No, I am here with JC.”

JC was surprised and pleased by her pronouncement. He reached back to drag a chair from another table and put it close to his. Without discussion, Gabby picked up her glass and her bags and moved next to him.

“Running away from home?” Justin asked, pointing to her luggage.

“You could say that,” Gabby mused.

“You over twenty-one?” was Joey’s question.

“Oui, I am.”

“Then why are you running?” Lance asked.

“I did not say I was exactly. My father is a very domineering type – to put it mildly. He has my future planned for me. He has announced who I am to marry.”

“That’s when you took off?” JC touched her hand. “Do you even love him?”

“Love him? I loathe him,” Gabby answered with a shudder.

“Where are you headed?” Lance asked.

Gabby gave a small shrug. “I have no idea. I am merely going to see what I can before my father finds me.”

“You traveling alone makes you easy to spot,” Justin pointed out.

“And what do you propose I do?”

“Come with us,” JC blurted.

Silence prevailed as the five men looked at each other. They finally nodded and Chris broke the quiet. “Yeah, you could come with us.”

“Come with you? Do you travel?”

“You could say that,” Joey chuckled.

Gabby bit her bottom lip. She didn’t know these men, but she sensed goodness and decency in them. “Are you certain?”

“Sure! Why not?” Chris answered.

“We won’t let anything happen to you,” JC assured her. “I’ll take care of you,” he promised.

Gabby knew he would. There was not a doubt in her mind.

“How do you travel?” It was apparent to all of them she had no idea who they were.

“Private buses,” Lance informed her.

That mean no tickets to buy – no tickets, no way to trace her movements – and it would stretch her money a little further. “If you are certain no one would mind…”

“Baby, we’re the bosses,” Joey stated.

“Oh…if it would not be an inconvenience…”

She was going to be a major inconvenience, JC was certain – and distracting as hell.

“What about tonight? Lance asked. They were staying in a hotel.

Gabby turned large, gray eyes to JC.

With a sigh of resignation, he murmured, “She can bunk with me.” Talk about sleeping with temptation!

This was not the brightest idea he’d ever had. JC thought morosely as he eyed the half of the bed Gabby would use. Her beautiful body in the same bed was not going to be a pleasure, feeling her warmth, smelling her scent. If circumstances were different, if they were lovers, he’d be looking forward to the night. But they were not. They barely knew each other - and she seemed to have chosen him as her protector. Just his luck! A beautiful, sexy girl walks into his life and he gets to play Big Daddy instead of suitor. Life just wasn’t fair.

Gabby briefly wondered at what folly she had possibly committed. She didn’t know these men, but here she was prepared to disappear with them. She decided that Dame Fortune was smiling on her. Her father would never think of looking for her on a bus with five men! She almost clapped with glee.

JC. . . those deep blue eyes told her all she needed to know. He was the sort of man who knew duty, honor and the loneliness of conviction. He would never let anyone take advantage of her – including himself. Perhaps, he was the one. . .

“Mon Dieu, Gabby!” she scolded herself. “You have just met the man!”

JC’s misgivings multiplied when Gabby came out of the bathroom. She wore a silk nightgown of pale pink. She laid the matching robe across the foot of the bed, then climbed in and lay down.

“This is very generous of you, JC,” Gabby told him softly. “Merci.”

“You’re welcome. I don’t think anyone should be forced to marry anyone they don’t love.”

“It happens every day, mon ami.”

He shook his head. “It’s no good that way.”

With a soft sigh of resignation, she said, “I very probably will marry Alfred.” She shuddered at the very thought of what the misogynistic pig would do to her.

JC bent to kiss her cheek tenderly. “Not if I can help it,” he assured her. He reached to switch off the light. “Night, Gabby.”

“Bonne nuit, JC.”

JC woke the next morning with Gabby cuddled against him. As big as the bed was, he had supposed she would stay to her own half! But here the girl was, her head on his shoulder, lying so trustingly in the crook of his arm. Evidently, when her body came against his in the night, he had wanted it to stay. She was beautiful in that blue-blooded way, he decided as he gazed at her closely for the first time. The sun had never kissed her porcelain complexion. Her black brows arched delicately above those soft, deep eyes of hers. Her nose was straight and perfect. Her pink lips, there was her flaw. They were just a tad too full, making them look pouty and well kissed, a sweet rosebud of a mouth. Hell, she was probably a little snob to boot! Still. . .

Gabby gave a languorous stretch before she opened dove gray eyes to find JC studying her. She gave him a drowsy smile. “Bon jour,” she purred, her accent thick on first waking.

“Morning.”

“You make a wonderful, if rather lumpy pillow.”

Good. There was no false shyness in her. “You could've stayed on your half of the bed,” he pointed out.

“I have never shared a bed, so no one has ever told me I sprawl.”

He chuckled. “Then let me be the first. Gabby, you sprawl.” He smiled down at her. God, she looked so inviting, so kissable with her sleep-mussed hair and lambent eyes, and that mouth. . .

When she sat up, her gown slipped of one creamy shoulder to reveal the swell of one plump breast.

JC swallowed hard and quickly averted his eyes. “I’ll try to get you your own room next stop.”

“Did I disturb your sleep?” Gabby asked as she reached for her robe.

She had disturbed his waking, not his sleeping.

“It’s not that. Don’t you want privacy?”

“I am not much used to privacy,” she said as she rose. “Did you sleep well?”

“I am known as the guy who can sleep anywhere.”

“That must be a useful talent.”

“It has been.”

“I can sleep anywhere as long as no one puts peas under the mattress.” That had been her standard joke with her brother since she was small.

The humor was lost on JC however. “Peas?”

“As in the Princess and the Pea?”

“Oh. . .”

“Ah, I see my meager attempt at humor has failed.”

JC shook his head. “I am barely human before my shower and first cup of coffee.”

“Oh. . . S’il te plait, go get human.”

He didn’t understand half of what she said. “I take a very long shower.”

“I take a quick bath of a morning. This bathroom has both. We might save time by sharing the room.

“What am I?” JC grumbled to himself. “A fucking eunuch?” He could hear Gabby splashing and humming in her bath as he stood in the shower stall letting the hot water pound into him. He’d started getting hard when she had mentioned this venture – now he was like granite! He could just imagine her beautiful, little body glowing rosy from the warm water. If he got himself off, would she recognize the sound or even care?

Leaning against the wall, he closed his eyes and began stroking his aching member. He let Gabby’s face float before him. Her lips. . . oh yeah, those pink lips. . . how they would feel against his mouth, against his flesh, against his — a soft moan escaped him. His hand moved faster, firmer. The feel of her breasts this morning with only the flimsy fabric of her gown between her and the side of his chest. The inviting curve and the barest hint of rosy areola when her gown had slipped. . . His self-caress grew rougher and he clamped his lips together to smother a groan. He let his imagination run wild. He’d shove open the damn shower door and lift her from her fragrant bath. They’d kiss wildly, trying to consume each other. He’d take her right there on the bathroom floor, the tile cool against their hot, straining bodies. She wouldn’t even pretend to resist, desiring him with an equal hunger. And when he finally came to her, she’d cry out his name in pleasure. Though she was wet and hot, she’d be wonderfully tight – a perfect fit. Her moans would drive him on until they both climaxed into ecstasy. “Gabby!” JC ground out through clenched teeth, his hand making on last pass before he shot his load and it rinsed down the drain. Damn!

Gabby’s voice brought him back to reality with a jolt.

“JC, I’m done!” she called as she left the bathroom.

“So am I,” JC grunted to himself.