Renegade

by Alers, Rochelle

  The furniture, purchased before she had moved in, was serviceable with oak finishes; twin love seats were covered with white Haitian cotton, and the colors of white and yellow with green accents predominated.

  Her apartment was on the second floor of a two-story building, and she had to thank the Department for not having her live in a place where there was the possibility of someone stomping over her head at odd hours.

  Walking into the living room, Gabriel picked up a shopping bag and handed it to Summer. She peered into it, smiling. He had brought a bottle of wine, a loaf of Italian bread, and a plastic container filled with cannoli.

  “Oh, Gabriel,” she crooned, “I think I’m going to keep you around for a long, long time. You brought my favorite dessert.”

  “I’m glad I’m able to please you.”

  Rising on tiptoe, she kissed him. “You please me a lot.”

  Gabriel knew if he didn’t put some distance between himself and Summer she would become his dessert. He wanted to sweep the table of the dishes, place Summer on her back and feast on her like a starving man who had been deprived of food for a week.

  And it had been a while since he had taken a woman to his bed because of a promise he’d made to himself after he’d ended his last liaison—one that had become based solely on sex. He wanted not only Summer’s body, but her heart. He would not accept one without the other.

  “Where can I wash my hands?”

  She pointed to the short hallway outside her bedroom. “It’s to your left.”

  “I think we’re stuck with each other,” Gabriel remarked after he’d swallow a portion of the baked chicken with mustard, tarragon, carrots and leek. “You’re an incredible cook.”

  Summer had warmed the Italian bread and served it with garlic butter and a cup of yellow split pea soup she had flavored with a pinch of toasted cumin seeds.

  She took a sip of wine, staring at Gabriel over the rim of her glass. She hadn’t lingered in school after the dismissal bell, and had gone to the store to shop for the items she needed for dinner. By four, she had put the chicken in the oven, which left her plenty of time to shower and ready herself for Gabriel’s five o’clock arrival.

  Putting down his fork, Gabriel listened intently to the music coming from the speakers of a mini-stereo system on a shelf with books, magazines and several plants.

  “Nice.” The single word was pregnant with emotion. Closing his eyes, he said, “Piano, cello, flute, penny whistle, Healy Irish flute, fretless bass and oboe.”

  Summer’s jaw dropped. “How can you do that?”

  Gabriel opened his eyes. “Do what?”

  “Hear all those instruments.”

  He tapped the side of his head. “It’s all up here. I’ve trained myself to listen with my head rather than my ears.”

  “You’re a genius.”

  “No,” he said laughing. “I have studied very hard.”

  “Modesty doesn’t become you, Gabriel.”

  “Why?” He looked genuinely surprised at her assessment of him.

  “It doesn’t go along with the image.”

  “Who created the image, Summer?”

  “The media,” she said after a noticeable pause.

  “Exactly. They make up what they want to believe about a person, not caring whether anyone approves of the myth they’ve created. My father had his share of the spotlight, and before he was thirty, he was out of it. He enjoyed performing with his band Night Mood, but what he didn’t like was working nights and sleeping during the day. The guys in the band nicknamed him Dracula because he refused to go to sleep until he saw the sun come up.

  “He never got involved with drugs or slept with women when touring with the band. He had become an enigma, yet the media created their own image of how they saw David Cole.”

  “And that was?”

  “A rich playboy musician who lived hard and loved even harder.”

  “Is that the reason you’re so reclusive?”

  He shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe.”

  Silence descended on them once again, with only the sound of music filling the space, drawing them closer together. It was after seven when Summer brewed cups of espresso to accompany the delicate cannoli.

  Gabriel had remained in the living room, examining her small collection of compact discs. Most of them were selections featuring saxophones. He slipped two on the carousel. They were John Tesh’s Sax on the Beach and Sax by the Fire.

  Summer returned from the kitchen carrying the cups of espresso. Gabriel closed the distance between them, took the tiny cups from her, and pulled her into the living room.

  He eased her to his chest, arms curving around her waist. “You owe me a few more dances.”

  She knew he was talking about their quick departure from the dance club. Leaning back in his embrace, Summer curved her arms under his shoulders. “I’m sure we’ll be given other opportunities to dance together.”

  “When?” he whispered in her hair.

  “When we go away for that weekend.”

  Gabriel stopped suddenly, causing her to stumble, but he caught her, tightening his hold on her body. “What happened to our wager? Are you giving up that easily?”

  She turned her face into his shoulder, inhaling the seductive scent of the cologne on his shirt. “No. You want to spend a weekend with me, and I want the scholarships. As far as I’m concerned, I’m getting the better of the wager.”

  Gabriel wanted to tell Summer she was wrong. Both would be winners, because he knew if he spent a weekend with her, then he would want more. And the more would become every weekend of her life.

  He kissed her fragrant hair. “If that’s the case then I concede defeat.”

  Her head came up, her gaze narrowing. “What’s up, big dawg? You gave in too quickly.”

  He whinnied softly, eliciting a smile from her. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to look a gift horse in the mouth?”

  “Yes,” she crooned, “but they never told me I couldn’t kiss one.”

  One moment she was standing, then she found herself lifted off her feet as Gabriel fastened his mouth to hers. She held his head and returned his kiss with reckless abandon.

  Her lips parted, inviting his tongue to come and linger a while. She wasn’t disappointed when their tongues met and mated. The kiss was like the meeting of two lava beds, smoking and smoldering with a passion that threatened a second eruption.

  It was Gabriel, and not Summer, who ended the kiss. He wanted to wait, wait until he took her away with him. He noted her dreamy expression and her slightly swollen mouth. It was an expression he would never forget. If possible, she had become more beautiful, sensual. She was a woman who had been created to be loved.

  His fingers tightened around her wrists, bringing her hands down to her sides. “I think I’d better leave while I still can.”

  “What about dessert?”

  Angling his head, he ran the tip of his tongue over her lower lip. “I just sampled it.”

  Summer stood with her mouth gaping as he picked up his jacket off the love seat and walked to the door. Glancing over his shoulder, he offered her his lopsided grin. “Make certain you lock your door.”

  She returned his smile. “I will.”

  The door opened and closed, and he was gone. Summer waited a full minute before walking over to the door to slide the dead bolt into place. She returned to the dining area, picked up the lukewarm cup of espresso and sipped it.

  I like him. Her inner voice was talking to her again. “¡Mentirosa!” she whispered aloud. And she was a liar, because she knew she didn’t like Gabriel. She loved him! The two CDs had finished playing when Summer finally left the table and went to clean up the kitchen.

  It was almost eleven when she brushed her teeth and slipped into bed. She was asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.

  Eleven

  “Do you know how uncomfortable you make me, Renegade?”

  Summer glared at Lucas. “Please, d
on’t call me that.”

  “All right, Summer. Please order something to eat. I’m stuffing my face while you sit there like someone on a fast.”

  “You’re eating because you can’t cook.”

  Lucas Shelby’s blue-green eyes paled. “Order something!”

  “Is that a direct order?”

  He closed his eyes, while shaking his head. “No, Summer, it’s not.”

  The tense moment ended when she signaled a waitress. “I’d like to have a slice of raisin toast, a cup of decaffeinated coffee, and a small fruit cup.” The raisin bread was the only concession she made for the store-bought variety.

  “Sorry, miss. I don’t know if we have raisin bread.”

  Summer smiled at the buxom woman who had dyed her hair a bright pumpkin-orange shade. “If you don’t have any, then just bring me the fruit and coffee.”

  Lucas, waiting until the waitress had walked away, said, “Is that all you’re going to eat?”

  “What’s going on, Lucas? Why this sudden interest in my eating habits?” He picked up his mug, sloshing coffee over the rim and spilling some of it on the table. It was then that she noticed his hands were shaking. “Are you all right?”

  Nodding, he took a swallow of the steaming black brew. He replaced the cup on a napkin, then ran his right hand over his face. “I’m tired, Renegade. I’m thinking about getting out.”

  “What!”

  He leaned over the table. “I’m retiring next July. I’ve given my government more than thirty years of my life, and now I want to live my life my way.”

  “But … but you’re too young to retire, Lucas.”

  “You’re too young, Summer. I’ll be sixty in July, and I want out. I’ve sacrificed getting married and having children because I’ve been married to my job. Every three years I find myself mentoring more young cocky snot-nosed bastards who think they know everything because they have advanced degrees and computer knowledge. In less than ten years I’ll be calling them boss. I’ve had enough of this bureaucratic bull…” His words trailed off when he saw Summer’s expression. He flashed a quick smile. “I’m all right. Really.”

  She reaching out and placed her hand over his. “Why don’t you take a thirty-day leave? Just go somewhere and chill out.”

  “I’ve seriously considered it.”

  She let go of his hand. “Do it, Lucas.” Her voice was soft, soothing. She stared at the faint scar over his left eyebrow where she had kicked him. Her gaze moved up to his hair. Flecks of gray shimmered in the sandy-brown strands cut into a modified crew cut hairstyle.

  “I can’t. Not until this one is over.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen over the Christmas recess.”

  “That’s true with Weir. But I’m also supervising a few agents who have managed to infiltrate a group dealing drugs in a housing development near a school and senior citizen complex.”

  She whistled softly. “No wonder you’re tired. Don’t you know how to say no?”

  He shook his head. “No more than you know how to say no.”

  She smiled. “Touché, Lucas.”

  What she wanted to tell her supervisor was that she also planned to retire. She wouldn’t remain in long enough to collect a government pension, but she no longer cared. She had options. She could open a dance school, or teach criminal justice.

  Perhaps Lucas was right. He had been caught in a time warp. He was good enough to train recruits, yet not savvy enough to understand that wars were not only fought with manpower, but also with sophisticated equipment that required special skills.

  Lucas’s gaze narrowed as he stared at Summer. He found it odd that he’d always thought of her as a girl. But looking closely at her he realized she was a woman. Somehow she had changed, seemingly grown up in a matter of weeks.

  “How’s Gabriel Cole?” he asked, taking a wild guess as to who could be responsible for the change in her.

  “He’s okay.” Summer’s expression was impassive. None of what she was feeling showed on her face when Lucas had mentioned Gabriel’s name.

  “Just okay?”

  Tilting her chin, she regarded Lucas through lowered lids. “Have you come up with something on him?”

  “No.”

  “Then, why bring up his name?”

  “I just want to know if he’s responsible for putting the glow in your eyes.”

  “Is it that obvious?” She’d decided to be direct with Lucas. She knew it was only a matter of time when she would have to tell him that she was going away with Gabriel.

  Lucas smiled a warm smile for the first time since their meeting. “Yes, it is. Is it serious?”

  Summer shook her head. “No. We’re friends.”

  He wanted to tell her that women who looked like her did not become a friend to a healthy, normal male. But then, he thought, maybe Gabriel Cole wasn’t normal. After all, he was a musician, and they were known to lead rather jaded lives.

  “What’s happening at Weir?” He had changed the topic.

  “Not much. I’ll be auditioning students in two weeks. Eighty-four have signed up for the spring musical. I’m going to spend this weekend going over their profiles.”

  “That should take you into early October.” His forehead furrowed in concentration. “Why don’t we get together again the last weekend in October. If you come up with something before that time, then call me on my cell phone.”

  Summer nodded, smiling. “What are you doing, Lucas?” What had happened to their bi-weekly meetings?

  “I’m trying to give you what I missed.”

  “And that is?”

  “An alternative to spending your life chasing bad guys.”

  The waitress returned with her order. Meeting Lucas’s gaze, Summer smiled and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  Winking, he mouthed back, “You’re welcome.”

  Summer climbed the steps to the sleek jet sitting on the tarmac at Logan International Airport, its engines revving in preparation for takeoff. She was going to Florida with Gabriel for his sister’s wedding. And he was right about the Coles and short engagements. Alexandra Cole had officially announced her engagement one weekend and planned to marry the following weekend at her parents’ home in Boca Raton.

  When Gabriel asked her to accompany him, she’d encountered a momentary anxiety attack. The fact that she would meet Gabriel’s family did not unnerve her as much as the fact that she had nothing to wear to the wedding. He solved her dilemma, offering to take her shopping at Copley Place where he was certain she would find an outfit in one of the many specialty boutiques.

  It had taken her less than two hours to select a pair of Oscar De La Renta multicolored, silk-covered, sling backs, an exquisite beaded Judith Leiber evening purse in the muted colors of oranges, pinks, reds, black and green. The colorful shoes and bag were offset by a square-neck sleeveless raw silk black sheath that skimmed her body and ended mid calf. A matching long-sleeved jacket with side slits pulled her winning look together.

  Once they’d returned to his car with her purchases, Gabriel had kissed her passionately while thanking her for not subjecting him to spending all night in the shops while she made her selections. She returned the kiss, thanking him for paying for her purchases. The price tag on the shoes would have cost her more than half her weekly take home pay.

  The ceremony was scheduled to take place Saturday at 4:00 P.M., but Gabriel had informed her that family members had been gathering in Florida all week since David and Serena Cole had announced their daughter’s upcoming nuptials.

  Summer felt the protective warmth of Gabriel’s hand on her back as she stepped into the luxurious aircraft and was met by a man in a pilot’s uniform.

  “Welcome aboard, Miss Montgomery.” He introduced himself as the copilot, then shook hands with Gabriel. “Good seeing you again, Mr. Cole.” He took Summer’s weekender and garment bag from Gabriel.

  “Same here, Captain Gonzalez.”

  “We should be lifting off in abou
t fifteen minutes.”

  Gabriel nodded. “What time do you anticipate touching down?”

  “Clear weather, no wind—no later than six.”

  “Good.” Gabriel seated Summer, then sat down beside her. He placed a call to Florida on his cell phone, completed it, then took her hand in his, squeezing her fingers gently.

  Turning away from the large oval window, she met his gaze. “Do you think your folks are going to be surprised to see me?”

  “Very.”

  “Very?” she repeated. Peering closely at Gabriel, Summer saw the hint of a smile lift the corners of his mouth. “Didn’t you tell them you were bringing a guest?”

  “Nope.”

  “Ga-bri-el,” she wailed, stretching out his name into three syllables.

  “Don’t sweat it, sweetheart.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. I don’t want to feel like an intruder.”

  His eyebrows lowered in a frown. “How can you be an intruder? You are my guest.”

  It was her turn to frown. “How many times have you brought a surprise guest to your parents’ home?”

  “Never.”

  “Never?”

  He kissed the end of her nose. “You’re the first woman I’ve brought home to meet my folks.”

  “Why me?”

  Gabriel stared at Summer. Everything about her turned him on—from her brown velvet skin, black hair that flowed over her shoulders like a cloud whenever she did not pin it up, and her eyes—dark eyes like a deep well he wanted to drown in.

  Leaning to his left, he caught her lower lip between his teeth and nipped it gently. “Why not you, Summer? Didn’t I tell you before that I don’t want to stop this thing we have going on? I’m ready to fall in love.” He smiled as her eyes widened. “How about you, darling? Are you ready for me? For us?” he whispered against her lush mouth.

  She laid her left hand along his cheek, feeling stubble on his lean jaw even though he’d shaved earlier that morning. “Yes, Gabriel. I am,” she whispered, meeting his hot gaze.

  Gabriel closed his eyes at the same time a mysterious smile curved his mouth.