by Diana Palmer
I feel more like a battleground, she typed. Rough morning.
He typed back lol, laughing out loud. Same here. Okay. Shall we slay Alliance until our blades are no longer thirsty?
She laughed back. That sounds very nice.
* * *
A COUPLE OF hours of play, and she felt like a new woman. She signed off, told her friend good-night, had a light dinner and went to bed. She knew that she was hiding from life in her virtual playground, but it was at least some sort of social life. In the real world, she had nothing.
* * *
SARA LOVED OPERA. The local opera house in San Antonio had been closed earlier in the year, although a new opera company was being founded. However, she had to have her opera fix. The only remaining one within reach was in Houston. It was a long drive, but the Houston Grand Opera was performing A Little Night Music. One of the songs was “Send in the Clowns,” her absolute favorite. She was a grown woman. She had a good car. There was no reason that she couldn’t make the drive.
So she got in the Jaguar and took off, in plenty of time to make the curtain. She’d worry about coming home in the dark later.
She loved anything in the arts, including theater and symphony and ballet. She had tickets to the San Antonio Symphony and the San Antonio Ballet companies for the season. But tonight she was treating herself to this out-of-town spectacular performance.
She was looking at her program when she felt movement. She turned as a newcomer sat down, and she looked up into the pale, laughing eyes of her worst enemy in the world.
Oh, darn, was what she should have said. What she did say was far less conventional, and in Farsi.
“Potty mouth,” he returned under his breath in the same language.
She ground her teeth together, waiting for his next remark. She’d stomp on his big booted foot and march right out of the building if he said even one word.
But he was diverted by his beautiful companion before he could say anything else. Like the other woman Sara had seen him with, at another performance, this one was a gorgeous blonde. He didn’t seem to like brunettes, which was certainly to Sara’s advantage.
Why in the world did he always have to sit next to her? She almost groaned. She bought her tickets weeks in advance. Presumably so did he. So how did they manage to sit together, not only in San Antonio at every single event she attended, but in Houston, too? Next time, she promised herself, she’d wait to see where he was sitting before she sat down. Since the seats were numbered, however, that might pose a problem.
The orchestra began tuning its instruments. Minutes later, the curtain rose. As the brilliant Stephen Sondheim score progressed, and dancers performing majestic waltzes floated across the stage, Sara thought she’d landed in heaven. She remembered waltzes like this at an event in Austria. She’d danced with a silver-haired gentleman, an acquaintance of their tour guide, who waltzed divinely. Although she traveled alone, she’d shared sights like this with other people, most of them elderly. Sara didn’t do singles tours, because she wanted nothing to do with men. She’d seen the world, but with Gabriel or senior citizens.
She drank in the exquisite score, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the song that was one of the most beautiful ever written, “Send in the Clowns.”
* * *
INTERMISSION CAME, BUT she didn’t budge. Wolf’s companion left, but he didn’t.
“You like opera, don’t you?” he asked her, his eyes suddenly intent on her, drinking in her long black hair and the black dress that fit her like a glove with its discreet bodice and cape sleeves. Her leather coat was behind her in the seat, because the theater was warm.
“Yes,” she said, waiting with gritted teeth for what she expected to follow.
“The baritone is quite good,” he added, crossing one long leg. “He came here from the Met. He said New York City was getting to him. He wanted to live somewhere with less traffic.”
“Yes, I read that.”
His eyes were on her hands. She had them in her lap, with a death grip on her small purse, her nails digging into the leather. She didn’t seem to have a care in the world, but she was wired like floodlights.
“You came alone?”
She just nodded.
“It’s a long way to Houston, and it’s night.”
“I did notice.”
“Last time, in San Antonio, it was with your brother and your ward,” he recalled. His eyes narrowed. “No men. Ever?”
She didn’t reply. In her hands, the purse was taking a beating.
To her shock, one big, beautiful, lean hand went to her long fingers and smoothed over them gently.
“Don’t,” he said tersely.
She bit her lip and looked up at him unguardedly, with the anguish of years past in her beautiful dark eyes.
He caught his breath. “What the hell happened to you?” he asked under his breath.
She jerked her hands away, got to her feet, put on her coat and walked out the door. She was in tears by the time she reached her car.
* * *
IT WAS SO UNFAIR. She hadn’t had a flat tire in years. She had to have one tonight, of all nights, on a dark street in a strange city many miles from her San Antonio apartment. When Gabriel and Michelle were gone, she didn’t like staying by herself on the small property in Comanche Wells. It was remote, and dangerous, if any of Gabriel’s enemies ever set themselves on retaliation. It had happened once in the past. Fortunately, Gabriel had been at home.
She’d already called for a tow truck, but the account she used was briefly tied up. It would be just a few minutes, they promised. She hung up and smiled ruefully.
A car approached from the direction of the theater, slowed and then whipped in just in front of where she was parked. A tall man got out and came back to her window.
She froze until she realized who it was. She powered the window down.
“This is a hell of a place to be sitting with a flat tire,” Wolf Patterson said shortly. “Come on. I’ll drive you home.”
“But I have to stay with the car. I’ve called the tow truck, and they will be here in a few minutes.”
“We’ll wait for the wrecker in my car,” he said firmly. “I’m not leaving you out here alone.”
She was grateful. She didn’t want to have to say so.
He chuckled softly as he got a glimpse of her expression when he opened the door of her car. “Accepting help from the enemy won’t cause you to break out in hives.”
“Want to bet?” she asked. But with a resigned sigh, she got into his car.
* * *
IT WAS A MERCEDES. She’d never driven one, but she knew a lot of people who did. They were almost indestructible, and they lasted forever.
She was curious about the windows. They looked odd. So did the construction of the doors.
He saw her curiosity. “Armor plating,” he said easily. “Bulletproof glass.”
She stared at him. “You have a lot of people using rocket launchers against you, do you?”
He just smiled.
She wondered about him. He spoke several impossible languages. He wasn’t well-known locally, although he’d lived in Jacobs County for several years. Of all the spare tidbits of information she’d been able to gather about him, he’d once worked for the elite FBI Hostage Rescue Unit. But apparently, he was involved in other activities since then, none of which were ever spoken about.
Gabriel found him amusing. He only said that Wolf had moved to Jacobsville because he was looking for a little peace and quiet. Nothing more.
“My brother knows you.”
“Yes.”
She glanced at him. He was looking at his cell phone, pushing through screens, apparently sending emails to someone.
She averted her eyes. He was probably talking to his date, maybe apologizing for keeping her waiting.
She wanted to tell him he could go, she’d wait for the wrecker alone; she wouldn’t mind. But she did mind. She was afraid of the dark, of men
who might show up when she was helpless. She hated her own fear.
He glanced at her hands. She was worrying the purse again.
He put away the cell phone. “I don’t bite.”
She actually jumped. She swallowed. “Sorry.”
His eyes narrowed. He’d been deliberately provoking her for a long time, ever since she ran into him with her car and then accused him of causing the accident. She was aggressive in her way. But alone with him, she was afraid. Very much afraid. Such a beautiful woman, with so many hang-ups.
“Why are you so nervous?” he asked quietly.
She forced a smile. “I’m not nervous,” she said. She looked around for car lights.
His eyes were narrow, assessing. “There was a pileup just outside the downtown loop,” he told her. “That’s what I was checking for on my phone. The wrecker should be here shortly.”
She nodded. “Thanks,” she said jerkily.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Do you really think you’re that attractive?” he asked in a cool drawl.
Her shocked eyes went up to meet his. “Excuse me?”
There was something ice-cold in his look, in his manner. She was bringing back memories he hated, memories of another beautiful brunette, provocative, coy, manipulative. “You’re sitting there tied in knots. You look as if you expect me to leap on you.” His sensual lips pulled up into a cold smile. “You’d be lucky,” he added provocatively. “I’m very selective about women. You wouldn’t even make the first cut.”
She stopped twisting the purse. “Lucky me,” she said with an icy smile. “Because I wouldn’t have you on toast!”
His eyes flashed. He wanted to throw things. He couldn’t leave her here alone, but he wanted to. She made him furious.
She started to get out of the car.
He locked the door from a control panel. “You’re not going anywhere until the wrecker gets here.” He leaned toward her abruptly, without warning.
She shot back against the door, suddenly trembling. Her eyes were wide and frightened. Her body was like taut rope. She just looked at him, shivering.
He cursed under his breath.
She swallowed. Swallowed again. She couldn’t even look at him. She hated showing that weakness. Aggression always provoked it. She’d never dealt with her past. She couldn’t get over it, get through it.
Headlights came up from behind and slowed. “It’s the tow truck,” Sara said. “Please let me out,” she choked out.
He unlocked the door. She scrambled out and ran to the vehicle’s driver.
He got out, too, cursing himself for that look on her face. She’d done nothing to cause him to attack her, nothing except show fear. It wasn’t like him to attack women, to threaten them. He was disturbed by his own response to her.
“Thank you for staying with me,” she told Wolf in a hunted tone. “He’s going to drop me off at my apartment and take the car to the dealership,” she choked out, indicating the elderly driver. “Good night.”
She ran to the wrecker and climbed up into the passenger seat while the driver worked at securing her car.
Wolf was still standing beside his car when the tow truck left. Sara didn’t even turn her head.
* * *
GABRIEL WAS HOME for a few days. Sara went to Comanche Wells to cook for him.
He noticed her subdued attitude. “What’s wrong, honey?” he asked softly as they drank coffee at the kitchen table.
She grimaced. “I had a flat tire, coming home from Houston after the opera.”
“At night?” he asked, surprised. “Why did you drive? Why not take a limo?”
She bit her lower lip. “I’m trying to...grow up a little,” she said, managing a shaky smile. “Or I was.”
“I hate to think of you sitting in the dark waiting for a wrecker,” he said.
“Mr. Patterson saw me there and stopped. I sat in his car while the wrecker got to me.”
“Mr. Patterson?” he mused. “Wolf was in Houston, too?”
“Apparently, he likes opera, too, and there isn’t a company here right now,” she said through her teeth.
“I see.”
Her expression was tormented. “He...he didn’t even do anything. He just turned in his seat and leaned toward me. I...reacted like a crazy person,” she bit off. “Made him mad.”
“We’ve had this discussion before,” he began.
“I hate therapists,” she said hotly. “The last one said I wanted people to feel sorry for me, and I probably overreacted at what happened!”
“He what?” he burst out. “You never told me!”
“I was afraid you’d hit him and end up in jail,” she returned.
“I would have,” he said harshly.
She drew in a breath and sipped coffee. “Anyway, it wasn’t helping.” She closed her eyes. “I can’t get past it. I just can’t.”
“There are nice men in the world,” he pointed out. “Some even live right here in Jacobsville.”
Her smile was world-weary. “It wouldn’t matter.”
He knew what she’d gone through. He hadn’t known that the rape attempt wasn’t the first one, that their stepfather had spent months making suggestive comments, trying to touch her, trying to get her into bed long before he used force. That, combined with the court trial, had warped Sara in ways that made Gabriel despair for her future. What a hell of a thing to happen to a girl at the age of thirteen.
“You love children,” he said quietly. “You’re dooming yourself to a life all alone.”
“I have my entertainments.”
“You live in that virtual world,” he said irritably. “It’s no replacement for a social life.”
“I can’t cope with a social life,” she replied. “I have never been more sure of anything.” She got up and bent to kiss his forehead. “Leave me to my prudish pursuits. I’ll make you an apple pie.”
“Bribery.”
She laughed. “Bribery.”
* * *
GABRIEL WAS AT the feed store the next Friday when Wolf Patterson came in. He was scowling even before he saw Gabriel.
“Is she with you?” Wolf asked.
Gabriel knew who he meant at once. He shook his head.
“Is she crazy?” he asked. “Honest to God, I stayed with her in my car until the wrecker came, and she acted as if I was bent on assault!”
“I’m grateful for what you did,” Gabriel said, sidestepping the question. “She should have taken a limo to Houston. I’ll make sure she does next time.”
Wolf calmed down, but only a little. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his expensive jeans. “She ran into me with the car, you know. Then she blamed me for it. That started the whole thing. I hate aggressive women,” he added shortly.
“She tends to overreact,” Gabriel said noncommittally.
“I don’t even like brunettes,” he said curtly. His pale eyes flashed. “She’s not my type.”
“You’re certainly not hers,” the younger man pointed out with a grin.
“Who is?” Wolf asked. “One of those tofu-eating tree huggers?”
“Sara...doesn’t like men.”
Wolf raised an eyebrow. “She likes women?”
“No.”
Wolf’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not telling me anything.”
“That’s exactly right,” Gabriel replied. He pursed his lips. “But I’ll tell you this. If she ever showed any interest in you, I’d get her out of the country by the quickest means available.”
Wolf glared at him.
“You know what I mean,” Gabriel added quietly. “I wouldn’t wish you on any woman alive, much less my baby sister. You still haven’t dealt with your past, after all this time.”
Wolf’s teeth were clenched.
Gabriel put a hand on his shoulder. “Wolf, not all women are like Ysera,” he said softly.
Wolf jerked away from him.
Gabriel knew when he was licked. He smiled. “So, how’s the wargaming?
”
It was a carrot, and Wolf bit. “New expansion coming out,” he said, and smiled. “I’m looking forward to it, now that I’ve got somebody to run dungeons with.”
“Your mysterious woman.” Gabriel chuckled.
“I assume she’s a woman,” he replied, shrugging. “People aren’t usually what they seem in these games. I was complimenting a guildie on his mature playing style, and he informed me that he was twelve years old.” He laughed. “You never know who you’re playing with.”
“Your woman could be a man. Or a child. Or a real woman.”
Wolf nodded. “I’m not looking for relationships in a video game,” he replied easily.
“Wise man.” Gabriel didn’t tell him what Sara did for amusement. It really wouldn’t do to sell her out to the enemy. He hesitated and glanced toward the street. “There’s a rumor going around.”
Wolf turned his head. “What rumor?”
“Ysera got away,” he reminded the other man. “We’ve searched for over a year, you know. One of Eb’s men thinks he saw her, at a small farm outside Buenos Aires. With a man we both remember from the old days.”
Wolf’s face tightened as if he’d been shot. “Any intel on why she’s there?”
Gabriel nodded grimly. “Revenge,” he said simply. His eyes narrowed. “You need to hire on a couple of extra men. She’d have your throat slit if she could.”
“I’d return the favor if I could do it legally,” Wolf returned with faint venom.
Gabriel slid his hands into his jeans pockets. “So would the rest of us. But you’re the one in danger, if she really is still alive.”
Wolf didn’t like remembering the woman, or the things he’d done because of her lies. He still had nightmares. His eyes had a cold, faraway look. “I thought she was dead. I hoped...” he confessed quietly.
“It’s hard to kill a big snake,” the other man said flatly. “Just...be careful.”
“Watch your own back,” Wolf replied.
“I always do.” He wanted to tell the other man about Sara, to warn him off, to avert a tragedy in the making. But his friend didn’t seem really interested in Sara, and he was reluctant to share intimate details of Sara’s past with her worst enemy. It was a decision that would have consequences. He didn’t realize how many, at the time.