by Janet Dailey
"It isn't the same anymore." She swung her gaze back to look at him helplessly. "Things are different between us."
The sharp breath he exhaled held cynical laughter. "At least you're intelligent enough to recognize that."
"This isn't fair." A tumultuous upheaval was going on inside her.
Jonni hugged her arms around her stomach and stared at the ground, fixing a misty gaze on the blades of grass near the dead tree limb her horse was tied to. She'd never be able to recapture that supreme confidence and joy for her engagement she'd felt when she arrived. Gabe had created doubts where there had been none.
"I almost wish I'd never come back," she said tightly.
"Believe me, Jonni, there have been times when I've wished you hadn't, too." His agreement was cool and sardonic, flicking her like a whip.
From the south came the rumble of distant thunder. Jonni lifted her gaze in its direction. The clouds had moved into block out the sun and cast a solid shadow, over the terra-cotta buttes and mesas. Lightning splintered inside the billowing, gray black clouds, electric and intense.
"Do you think we're in for a storm?" she asked Gabe, not satisfied with her opinion of the threatening look of the clouds. He had already pushed away from the tree to walk to his horse.
"There are no bees around. The flies are sitting." He draped a stirrup over the saddle seat and began tugging at the cinch strap to tighten the saddle. "I haven't seen any birds in the sky for the past five minutes. It's going to storm. If we don't want to get caught in it we'd better head for the ranch."
Feeling his calm urgency, Jonni hurriedly tightened the cinch on her own saddle. The signs of nature he had observed made her aware that he had been cognizant of all that had happened around them while she had been so wrapped up in their conversation she hadn't noticed a thing. She glanced at the parched earth.
"I hope we don't get caught in a downpour," she said. Gabe was already in the saddle and waiting when she mounted.
"I'm not worried about getting wet," he replied ominously, and dug a heel into the bay's flank to send it bounding forward into a canter.
Another rumble of thunder was muffled by the drumming of the horses' hooves as Jonni urged her horse into a fast canter after Gabe. They traveled swiftly, trying to outrun the clouds taking over the sky. The thunder rumbled closer, lightning flashing behind them.
They were halfway to the ranch when the first fat raindrop struck Jonni. It was followed by a second and a third. Thunder clapped the clouds and the rain splashed down. Her horse tugged nervously at the bit, trying to break into a gallop. She held it back, sparing a glance from the rough terrain to look at Gabe.
The much needed rain had come. There was a rejoicing light in her eyes to match the smile on her lips, but there was no such answering expression on his profile.
Her horse made a shying lunge side ways as lightning crashed nearby. Jonni felt the reverberation of the deafening thunder in the air. The wind came to whip the rain into sheets, soaking her clothes and plastering them against her skin.
One blinding flash of lightning was followed by another and another until the air around her seemed charged with electric particles. Danger heightened her senses as Jonni realized they were likely targets for the jagged bolts of fire.
"We've going to have to take cover!" Gabe shouted above the thunder. It rumbled and vibrated the earth like a herd of stampeding cattle. "That way." He pointed to an outcropping of sandstone ahead of them.
At the base, the sandstone had been hollowed by the elements. Altering their course they raced for the crude, cavelike shelter. The overhanging ledge that formed the rock roof was tall enough to enable them to ride under it, escaping the deluge of rain and splintering lightning.
The zebra dun snorted and danced nervously as Jonni dismounted. The recess carved into the sandstone formation wasn't very deep, but it was some twenty feet in length. There was room enough for the horses to stand side by side and be protected from the rain, except for what the wind drove in. Steam rose faintly from the heated flesh of the horses, wet from the downpour.
"Whew! That was some ride?" Jonni declared with a breathless laugh, revived and invigorated by the exhilarating flirtation with danger. "My clothes are saturated." She plucked the sodden material of her blouse and held it, away from her rib case to show how wet she was.
Gabe looked. And in that brief, black glance, Jonni was made aware of the revealing way her blouse had molded itself to her thrusting breasts. The wet material was almost transparent. A scorching heat licked through her veins.
But there was no reference to her suggestive appearance when he spoke. "You look like a young girl with your hair tucked under your hat like that." He took the dun's reins from her hand and turned away. "There's a dry rock over there. You might as well sit where you can be out of the rain."
A chunk of flat sandstone rested near the recessed wall of the cliff. Jonni walked over to it, subdued, while Gabe tied the horses to a stubby bush. Removing her hat and sitting on the rock, she shook her hair free. It tumbled about her shoulders. Because it had been protected by the hat, her hair was only partially damp, its blond color darkened by the faint moisture. At a wicked crash of lightning she looked out.
"How long do you think the storm will last?" she asked as Gabe walked over to where she was seated.
"It's too violent to keep this up for long." Although there was room on the rock, he made no attempt to sit with her. Instead he towered beside her, intimidating her with his size. He reached into his shirt pocket and took out the makings of a cigarette. He glanced down to see her watching him. "Do you remember how to roll a cigarette?" There was something gentle in his glittering look, a remembrance of old times, more companionable occasions.
"Yes, I think so." She nodded, warmed by the memories of when Gabe had taught her how.
"Show me." He passed her the tobacco and a dry cigarette paper.
Smiling confidently, Jonni took the makings from him. Gabe crouched beside her, sitting off his heels and balancing effortlessly on the balls of his feet. She formed the rectangular piece of paper into a trough and tapped a mound of tobacco into the center. With her fingertip she spread the shredded brown leaves along the paper trough.
"Am I doing it right?" She glanced brightly at Gabe as she lifted it to her mouth to lick the edge of the paper.
Before she could succeed, Gabe was reaching to take it from her. "You'd better let me do it." Part of the tobacco spilled as he took the paper from her hand.
Stunned by his abrupt behavior, Jonni frowned at him. "Why? What was I doing wrong?" She was certain she had been doing it correctly.
"Nothing." He licked the paper and rolled it around the tobacco. "I'd just forgotten what the sight of that pink tongue of yours could do to me."
Striking a match, he cupped the flame to the end of the cigarette between his lips. Jonni sat motionless, shaken by the injection of disturbing intimacy into the conversation. A turbulent, elemental tension raced through her. It had no connection to the savage storm raging around them. In agitation she rose to face the rain whipping into, their crude shelter. She felt excited, confused and unnerved all at the same time.
"Why did you have to say that?" she demanded of Gabe in a thin, taut voice.
"It's the truth." Gabe straightened to stand at her shoulder. "Why shouldn't I have said it?"
"Because." She flung the weak, unsupportable reason at him.
The freshly lit cigarette was arched into the storm. "Why does it bother you to know I'm aroused by you?" Gabe wanted to know. When Jonni tried to avoid his intent regard, a finger turned her back to face him and remained beneath her chin. "It isn't just the pink tip of your tongue. I'm aroused by the way the firm roundness of your breast fills my hand, the way your hips fit perfectly against mine, and the sexy, animal sounds you make in your throat when I arouse you."
"I don't!" Jonni denied the last.
"You do," Gabe insisted and drew her into his arms to prove it.
Thunder rocked the ground beneath her feet but Jonni didn't know the difference between it and the tremors of desire that shuddered through her system. The lightning paled in comparison to the golden flame his devastating kiss ignited.
Her fingers sought the silken smoothness of his slick wet hair. His hat got in the way of her curling fingers. In absent awareness, Gabe reached up and deftly flicked it to the back of the wall. Then his hand was back on her spine, arching her into the ever tightening circle of his arms.
The wind whipped in stinging droplets of water to pelt her cheeks, but Jonni was oblivious to the storm. She was out of control, existing only because Gabe was holding her, kissing her, touching her, caressing her. Yet not even that was enough. She wanted more. A hungry, whimpering sound came from her throat.
Gabe pulled his mouth from her lips to drag it near her ear. "Did you hear that?" he taunted. "That wild little mating sound you made."
Turning and twisting, Jonni's lips sought to regain possession of his mouth, but he eluded her. "Yes," she moaned at last.
"Do you make sounds like that for him?" he growled against her throat.
"Gabe, please!" She didn't want to make comparisons, not at a time like this. Trevor had been an expert in the art of love, but he'd never turned her bones into putty the way Gabe was doing.
In a burst of feline aggression she forced her hands inside the collar of his shirt and dug her nails into the hard flesh of his shoulders in an effort to assert her own needs and end the torment of his elusive mouth. She heard the sharp intake of his breath and felt the flinching of his muscles.
"Tell me, damn it!" He rapped the sensitive skin at the base of her neck in retaliation.
"It was never like this, Gabe," Jonni admitted in a breathless whisper. "Never."
He shuddered violently against her, as if some last barrier had finally been breached. Her admission was rewarded with a bruising kiss that made the previous moments seem less of a torment. Jonni responded to its blazing ardor with complete abandon. Gabe's hand forced aside the material of her blouse to seek the roundness of her throbbing breast.
Then he was dragging her to the ground as if caught in an undertow that not even he, with all his strength, could withstand. Jonni knew the glorious feeling — she was the subject of emotions too powerful to deny or resist.
The searing longings had her writhing and twisting beneath him as his mouth sought the dusty rose tip of her rain-moistened breast. Her fingers tugged his shirt open so she could feel the bareness of his fiery skin against her own. His mouth murmured her name over and over again as it moved against her throat, her ear, her cheek and finally her lips. His weight crushed her slim body onto the hard ground.
Lightning split open the sky in front of the cavernlike shelter. The dun horse neighed in alarm and strained against the tied reins. Its rear hooves danced backward, black-striped legs bumping into the entwining pair on the ground. Reacting with catlike reflexes, Gabe rolled Jonni out of reach of the trampling hooves and continued the same fluid movement onto his feet.
"Easy, boy, easy." His husky voice attempted to quiet the horse. "Easy, now."
The gelding was on the verge of bolting. Jonni sat up, shifting out of its possible path and drawing the front of her blouse closed. Gabe laid a hand on the tan rump and walked slowly to the horse's head. It rolled its eyes and snorted, but didn't elude the hand that reached for the reins. The ends were still tied to the branch, broken from the bush.
While Gabe remained there to quiet the horse, Jonni shakily began to button her blouse and tuck it securely inside her jeans.
Staring at that virile figure of manhood, she knew she wished the interruption had happened much later, after the ache in the pit of her stomach had been satisfied. And she was shattered by how willing she was to cast aside the laws of morality and fidelity she had been raised to respect. It simply wasn't possible to be in love with two men. Yet there she was, engaged to one man and eager to make love to another.
She rose to stand on weak legs, and the movement attracted Gabe's attention. Absently patting the horse's neck, he retied the reins and walked back to her. His hands moved to hold and caress the soft flesh of her arms. The smoldering light in his eyes told her he wanted to take up where they left off, and the temptation was sweet agony. Her hands rested naturally on his waist, but she didn't sway into his arms.
"I'm engaged." Troubled confusion and want shimmered in her eyes.
His dark gaze discarded its lazy, seductive look to widen in mockery. "Are you reminding me of that? Or yourself?"
Jonni winced as that gibe struck a vulnerable nerve. Her gaze dropped to the tantalizing hollow at the base of his throat. She absently studied the sinewy cords in his neck.
"There are so many things …" she began, and wearily shook her head. "I'm finding it all difficult to understand."
His grip tightened to demand her undivided attention. "I love you, Jonni." A muscle twitched in his jaw. "What's so difficult to understand about that?"
"No." She shook her head, not wanting to believe him, wary because she knew how much more complicated it would all become if he was telling the truth.
"Yes." The laughing sound he made lacked humor. "I love you. I've been in love with you for years. Half the time I've been like a rutting stag with out a doe. And the other half … the rest of the time, it's been pure hell."
The shock of his confession whitened her face. "I don't believe you. Not all this time."
"From almost the moment I set eyes on you," Gabe told her, his jaw hardening. "You were fourteen and your boyish figure, was just beginning to fill but. But you were beautiful even then. I tried to convince myself it was your beauty that fascinated me, but within a matter of months I knew it went a hell of a lot deeper than that."
"No." Jonni pulled out of his hold, rejecting everything he said. "It isn't true. You never so much as hinted to me, not even that time when I —
"When you developed a crush on me," Gabe interrupted to complete her sentence. "You'd barely turned fifteen then, Jonni, and I was twenty-eight. Believe me, I was tempted to nurture that juvenile adoration, but I couldn't trust myself to be satisfied with the innocent affection you wanted to give. So I trampled it into the ground and prayed that I could arouse it again when you matured into a woman."
In a gesture of agitation Jonni combed her fingers through the side of her hair. Gabe had always been skilled at hiding his thoughts, she knew this, but she was frightened by what he was revealing.
"In the meantime," Gabe continued, his narrowed eyes watching her changing expression, "I had to listen to all your boy talk about your dates, how many times your boyfriends kissed you and whether they were any good at it or not. Your adolescent love life nearly, drove me insane with jealousy."
"Why?" She turned on him, half-convinced but still doubting. "Why didn't you ever indicate that you were interested in me? Not in the beginning, but later on, when I was older."
"I did. When you were seventeen, I decided I'd waited long enough. I went to your father and told him —
"You went to my father!" The ground seemed to rock beneath her feet. "He knew all this?"
"Yes," Gabe admitted evenly, "I told him I was in love with you and that I wanted to start asking you out, if he had no objections."
Had her father kept Gabe from coming forward, she wondered. "Did he?"
"John had his doubts. I was a good deal older than you, and considerably more experienced. But he respected me for coming to him first before making my interest known to you. He gave me his permission."
"Jonni was thoroughly confused. "Then why didn't you ever ask me out?"
"I did."
"When?" she challenged.
"You'd just had an argument with that Jefferson boy who played football," Gabe began.
The memory came flooding back. "And you said you'd take me to the dance that Friday if I wanted to go," Jonni remembered, her eyes widening in astonishment.
"
As I recall, you turned me down flat, insisting that you weren't that desperate." His eyes were cold as they remembered the exact words of her rejection.
"I … I thought you were joking" she defended, "that you were just offering to take me because you felt sorry for me. I never dreamed …"
"No, you never did," he agreed flatly. "So I decided to wait a little longer until you finally looked at me and saw a man instead of a convenient shoulder to pour your troubles on. Unfortunately you got that crazy notion in your head to become a model and you took off for New York."
"I never could understand why you were so violently opposed to my going," she said in a marveling voice of discovery. After all this time, it finally made sense. "You kept insisting I'd hate New York and I'd never succeed."
"And the more I kept telling you that, the more determined you became to prove I was wrong. Every time we got into an argument over your leaving, I knew I was driving you into going, but I was too damned much in love with you to keep my mouth shut." There was a haunting agony to his tightly clipped admission.
"I never guessed, Gabe," Jonni murmured.
"No, I know you didn't. Which meant I still had a chance. I kept waiting for you to come home. A half a hundred times over the past six years, I've made up my mind that I was going to fly there and bring you back, but I never did. I told myself that if you were the woman for me, you'd come back. I even made a try at forgetting you." His mouth quirked in cynicism. "But, I couldn't walk by a newsstand or pick up a magazine without your face staring back at me."
"I did comeback, though." She had the feeling she was seeing Gabe for the first time, a man with deep, abiding emotions, strong and unshakable, a rock in a windswept desert.
"Yes, you came back. When I saw you step out of that plane, I didn't know if I was dreaming or whether it was really you. I'd been waiting for so long I thought my mind had snapped."
"But when I kissed you hello, you nearly broke my ribs pushing me away," Jonni accused, finding his actions that day at odds with his confession.