by Cathy Quinn
"I’m nobody’s guy."
"Good." She pressed herself against him. "Can I have you?"
He groaned. Because more than anything he wanted to say ‘yes’. "Alice.... the room in my house..."
That gave him reprieve. She took a step back and looked at him. "Yes?"
He gave up. Maybe this would make her understand. "Let’s go into the kitchen. I need coffee."
Alice poured the coffee, while he leaned against the counter, wondering how he was going to tell her – what he was going to tell her. It wasn’t simple. It wasn’t easy.
"Well?" She handed him a warm cup, and looked expectantly up at him. "I’m all ears."
"The room is for my mother."
Alice looked confused. "Your mother? Why?"
"In case she wants to leave my father – I want her to have a place to go to."
"They’re divorcing?"
"Maybe."
"But... wouldn’t she just move into her own apartment or something? Or a hotel? I mean... no offense, but your parents are loaded and this isn’t exactly the Hilton."
Gabriel looked down and absently stirred his coffee. "It’s not that simple." He kicked a table leg. "It’s complicated. She may need a place. This was her aunt’s house. She spent a lot of time here as a child. She’ll feel more at home here than anywhere else. If she goes through with this, she’ll be vulnerable. I don’t want her alone in a hotel somewhere."
"Oh..." Alice breathed. "That’s why you’re out of your father’s company, isn’t it? You’re taking your mother’s side in the divorce and he doesn’t like it."
"There is no divorce. Not yet."
"But I’m right, aren’t I? That’s why you’re fixing up an ancient house and getting a new job?"
Gabriel nodded, his jaw set. "Yes. So my mother will have somewhere to go if – when – she decides to leave my father."
Sometimes things clicked in Alice’s head without much conscious thought to put together the pieces. "She’s the ‘friend’ you talked about, isn’t she?" she whispered. "The battered wife. She’s the reason you’re teaching self-defense classes. Your dad is hitting your mother."
A grimace of pain crossed Gabriel’s face fleetingly, confirming her suspicion.
"Oh, my God! Why doesn’t she just leave?" There was outrage in her voice, and Gabriel’s smile was tired and bitter.
"That’s what I’ve been asking her. But apparently, it’s not that simple."
"It is that simple. If someone beats you up, you leave. You don’t stick around and let it happen again."
"We’ve talked about this before, Alice. You’re not accounting for hope. And love. And trust – misplaced as it may be. All emotions that make you vulnerable – and human. Hope keeps her with him."
"Fear, Gabriel. It’s fear, not hope."
"Hope and fear are two side of the same coin, aren’t they? Anticipation of the future – negative or positive." He shook his head. "That’s the philosophy of it, anyway."
"I can’t believe this is happening. Why aren’t you doing something?"
Gabriel winced. "Like what?"
"Get her out of there!"
"How?"
"Tell her.... make her..." Alice floundered.
"That’s just it, Alice." Gabriel’s tone was harsh, but there was grief in his eyes. "I can’t make her do anything. You have no idea how much I want to make her leave that house. But I can’t. All I can do is provide her with options and hope she takes them. Believe me, I’ve done everything short of carrying her forcibly out of the house – and I’ve been damn tempted to do that."
"She wants to stay?"
"She doesn’t want to leave." Gabriel’s shoulders sagged. "She won’t leave him," he said softly, his head turned away from her. "She says he’s changing, that it won’t happen again – and she defends him, saying it isn’t that bad, doesn’t happen that often – there’s no way for me to know the details. She says she won’t give up on their marriage after all these years." He slammed the counter with a fist. "I talked to my father. He knows he’ll not get away with it one more time. I even went all 21st century on him and discussed counseling. But he insists this was none of my business and not to interfere in their personal life."
"That’s why you’re not talking..."
"I left his company and threatened him with his worst fear -- public exposure, if it ever happened again. But I don’t know if that’s enough. I wish I could just drag her out of that house. How the hell can I convince her to leave him?"
"You can’t," Alice murmured. She put her arms around him and leaned her cheek against his back. He was filled with angry energy, his body tense, and she longed to heal him. "You’re right, Gabriel. You can’t do anything more than what you’re doing. I’m sorry."
She couldn’t heal this. How new was this? Had he suffered his father’s anger too, as a child? It wasn’t the right time to ask, but maybe later. "I’m so sorry, Gabriel. You’re doing all you can – support her and give her a place to come to when she’s ready. There’s nothing else you can do now."
He turned, and his arms went around her, and she hugged him tighter, reveling in giving him some measure of comfort. His breath ruffled her hair and she reached up to his stubbly cheek and found a lone tear hiding.
She felt his helplessness and frustration as if it were her own. She wanted to help him. Wanted to heal him. Wanted to take all his pain away.
"Damnit, Gabriel," she whispered and stood on tiptoe, pulling his head down so she could kiss the tear away. "I wish there was something I could do. I wish I could make everything bad go away."
He chuckled, his fingers briefly grazing over her cheek. "You do, honey. You make it all go away. When you’re around I can’t think about anything else."
"Really?"
He rested his forehead against the top of her head and closed his eyes. "Yeah. Really. And fighting you off has me exhausted."
Alice preened and put her hands on his chest, tilting her head in the hope of a kiss. "Stop fighting, then?" she murmured.
Gabriel’s hand circled her wrists, squeezing gently before he removed her hands from his chest and stepped away. "What do you want from me, Alice?"
"What do you mean?"
He shrugged. "What are you expecting? Happy ever after? I can’t promise you that. Alice, you’re... I don’t want to hurt you."
She smiled. "You won’t. Don’t worry about my expectations. My expectations are my problem, not yours. You think too much."
He grabbed her upper arms to keep her away just as she was about to try one of her seductive poses. "Nuh uh, Alice. You’re not thinking at all."
She was grinning. "You have that effect on me," she said cheerfully.
"You want romance," he groaned. "I know what you want. You want love. You want forever after. Hell, you want eternity. I told you, I don’t do that. I can’t promise that." He stepped away. "I could hurt you."
"Like your father hurt your mother?"
Gabriel felt something inside him jolt. "That has nothing to do with it."
"I think it does. That’s what you’re afraid of, aren’t you? That you’ll hurt your woman."
"My woman? What woman? See, this is the problem..."
"You won’t hurt me, Gabriel. You’re you. You’re not your father."
"You said it yourself a while ago – that we were more alike then I thought."
Alice shook her head. "You don’t have violent impulses, Gabriel. I know you. And I know that hitting me is so abhorrent to you that you’ve been doing everything you can to keep me away. You’d rather sacrifice your own happiness than risk getting close to someone because you’re afraid you might hurt them. Doesn’t that tell you something about yourself?"
"I can’t be sure..."
"You’re not your father, Gabriel. You’re you. And you’re wonderful and I want you so badly I can’t even concentrate on making small talk with any other man. It’s not like I haven’t tried. See the problem?"
Her lips
touched his chin. It was unexpected and he jerked away, but she followed, pushing him against the kitchen counter and stepped on a handy paint can to get closer to him, linking her hands together at the back of his head. He tried to keep talking, but the words got rather indistinct with her lips pressing against his mouth.
He grabbed her upper arms, intending to push her away, but somehow he found himself answering her kisses instead. And it happened again, that urgency and heat, that incredible need to make her his, and at the back of his mind he knew this was trouble, so much trouble, and there was nothing to protect her from him but his own self-control.
Self-control that was badly slipping.
She kept touching him and his hands were itching to touch her back, but he kept them clenched on her upper arms. He would not give in. This was Alice. She deserved better than him. She might be right – that he was nothing like his father, but it was hard to let go of the fear.
Was she right? Was he different enough from his father. He couldn’t imagine ever hurting her. He’d rather die.
Her hands didn’t have any reservations and were doing a good job distracting him from his agonizing thoughts. She’d opened his shirt, and he hadn’t even noticed until her hands were on his skin.
"Make love to me, Gabriel," she muttered. "I want you."
"No." It was a strangled sound. "And ‘make love’ is a stupid phrase."
"Okay. No problem. Have sex with me then."
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
"We’re not doing this. I mean it, Alice."
She grinned. "We’re having our first lover’s quarrel, Gabriel."
"No. We’re not lovers."
"Not yet, but give me a minute. Do you want to do it here, or in your bedroom?"
"We’re not doing it. We’re not doing anything."
She started kissing him again, but by now he had better control of himself. He grabbed her shoulders and held her at arm’s length. "No. no, no, no, no, no. No! This is not happening."
Alice stared at him, then took an additional step back. "Okay. I can take a hint. That last ‘no’ was over the top."
Hell. Now he’d hurt her feelings.
Or was she just being passive-aggressive?
Did he care? Wasn’t this what he wanted, her to give up chasing him, leave him alone, go away and stop tempting him?
No!
"Alice... it’s not that I don’t want to..."
"No. You’re just protecting me from myself. Right?"
"And from me."
"How noble."
"I try."
She crossed her arms on her chest. "Gabriel, I don’t like rejection. In large doses, it gets humiliating. I do like you – although sometimes I wonder why. So, this is your last chance. I’m leaving. Feel free to stop me. If you don’t, that kiss was the last one you’ll ever get from me, and I’ll do what you want, leave you alone and find another guy to obsess about."
She paused for a minute, then started inching away from him.
Was she bluffing?
He closed his eyes and pictured the path she would take. Past him into the hall, through the front door and out to the car. Down the street...
Out of his life.
And why? Why was he sacrificing this? Because of another man’s difficulty with keeping his anger in check?
His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist in a familiar hold. The small bones were fragile as ever under his fingers, and as always, he enjoyed the feeling of her pulse pounding.
"Gabriel?" She was smiling widely as she turned to him, and he was an idiot. But the thought of not getting another kiss from her, not ever, was just unbearable.
He let go of her wrist and trailed his fingers up her arm. He grabbed her chin and leaned closer, making sure she met his eyes. "Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Alice?"
"I hope I know what you’re doing. You do want me, after all, don’t you?"
"I do," he said in a strangled voice. "I always did. I just didn’t want to want you. I don’t want to hurt you."
"You won’t."
"I can’t promise that Alice. I can’t promise you anything."
She grinned. "Fine. Just make sure the sex is worth the risk."
Gabriel’s last resistance crumbled in a spasm of desperate laughter. "Alice, you kill me."
She looped her arms around his neck and pressed her entire body against him. It was hell. It was heaven. It was purgatory and paradise. All rolled up in one glorious five foot, half an inch, package.
"Alice..." he groaned once more. "Are you sure...?"
Her answer was a brilliant smile and a kiss that reached into him and stole his soul away.
"No," he groaned a few minutes later, and captured her hands as she tried to slip the shirt off his shoulders. "Not here, Alice. The floor is cold and dirty. There aren’t any curtains, anyone can look in. You don’t deserve this."
She deserved flowers and candlelight and silk sheets, all the romantic clichés. She deserved a man who could tell her he loved her, someone who wouldn’t break her heart.
She didn’t deserve a quickie on a filthy kitchen floor with someone like him.
"Then take me to bed." She moved away from him and took his hand. "Better yet, I’ll take you to bed." Smiling, she pulled until he took the first reluctant step towards doom.
He still wasn’t sure. He might hate himself in the morning.
But how could he walk away from her?
"I know the way," Alice grinned at him. "I’ve been in your bed before."
Alice dragged him upstairs and fell into his bed, pulling him on top of her and hugging him so hard he thought they might never be able to separate again. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the moment. She was his.
"Oh, Gabriel." She caressed his cheek and he opened his eyes to look into hers. They were moist, and a fat tear was edging outwards. He kissed it away.
"What’s wrong?" he whispered, bracing himself on his elbows to take his weight off her. "Am I too heavy?"
Another tear. Then she pulled at him, so he collapsed back on top of her. "No. You’re wonderful. You’re perfect."
He rested his forehead on hers and smiled at her, refusing to let regret and self-loathing ruin the moment. He couldn’t make any guarantees about the future, but he could at least make this night beautiful for her. "Hey, Alice, you’re not going all romantic on me again, are you?"
She giggled, shifting her legs and wrapping herself around him, smoothing her hands down his back. "I’d never do that to you, Gabriel. But this feels so right. Doesn’t it?"
He nodded. He wasn’t getting all choked up. That wasn’t the reason he didn’t want to talk anymore. Not at all. He wouldn’t get all emotional over sex. And he’d never felt like this before, wanting to stay with her forever, because all of a sudden being alone was unthinkable.
"You talk too much," he said when he could trust his voice.
"I’m having to talk for two."
"What?" He almost panicked in his unreasonable and far fetched assumption. "You’re pregnant?"
She laughed so hard she almost bucked him off, and he ended up kissing her until the giggles died down from sheer lack of oxygen. "Idiot," she said affectionately, when she could speak again.
He flipped them over so that she was on top. "There. My brain obviously isn’t functioning well enough for the management position. You do the work."
"That’s hardly gentlemanly," she protested.
"I told you, honey -- I’m not a gentleman."
She leaned over him and kissed him. Her curls caressed his face, and he tangled his fingers in them and kissed her back. Alice pulled away and grinned at him. "You also told me you weren’t romantic, but you are."
"I’m not."
"Yes, you are. You told me I deserved better than the dirty kitchen floor."
"You’ve got low expectations of romance."
"It was sweet." She trailed kisses along his collarbon
e and started hunting down the few remaining buttons. "But what do you say we cut the chit-chat, and work on that blazing passion we had going so nicely a few minutes ago?"
"You’re the one who had an attack of the giggles."
"You’re the one who asked if I was pregnant."
"You said you were talking for two. It was a logical conclusion."
She bit his chin. "Shut up and kiss me. Like you did yesterday. It does a great job on bringing on blazing passion."
He did.
It did.
Chapter 12
"Gabriel?"
"Yes?"
"We just had sex."
"Yes."
"You and me."
"I know."
"With each other."
If he’d had the energy he’d have rolled his eyes. "Yeah, Alice. I noticed. I was there."
"Wow."
"Thank you. Wow to you too."
"What do we do now?"
"Sleep," he said, pulling her against him so that her back was warming his front. "Now we sleep. No thinking, no hysteria. Plenty of time for all that in the morning. Now we’ll just sleep. And Alice?"