Tapestry of the Past

by Alvania Scarborough

  “I intend to.” Della Brannigan would blanch if she ever began to comprehend the bond between Kalesia and him. However, that wasn’t something he was willing to share, not even with Kalesia’s mother. The unique bond he and Kalesia had was private.

  Kalesia had actually experienced his pain and rage. The fact that she had literally crept into years-old emotion, his emotion, still amazed him.

  Gabriel took a healthy taste of the punch and had to suppress a fit of coughing. The pink concoction packed a hidden wallop. He made a mental note to tell Wolf to keep Badger away from the punch bowl before the reception turned into a drunken brawl. Kalesia would never forgive him if he allowed her wedding day to be ruined.

  “My daughter has made some unusual acquaintances lately,” the older woman began delicately.

  Gabriel smiled, appreciating her tact. “Badger?” he asked, a slight wheeze in his voice. “He was honored to be Kalesia’s maid of honor.” Waiting at the altar, Gabriel had held his breath when the minister caught sight of the crusty CIA agent preceding the bride. The minister had blinked once, twice and then again at the neon purple cummerbund and matching jacket. To his credit, he had recovered his aplomb and begun the ceremony with hardly a pause.

  “And his colors went so well with my daughter’s,” she said, a dry note of amusement in her musical voice.

  Even in her fifties, the woman was a knockout. She smiled, reminding him again of Kalesia. She possessed the same impish amusement.

  “But that isn’t exactly what I meant. I may be naïve, Mr. Steele but even I can tell there is something most unusual about the majority of the guests present. Most of them seem cut from the same piece of dough.”

  Gabriel choked on the cautious sip of punch he had just taken. Wait until Wolf heard that some of the government’s best agents were lumped together with raw cookies! His eyes sought out Kalesia wanting to share his amusement with her.

  A dark frown wiped out his amusement. He could barely see her surrounded as she was by wave after wave of remarkably similar suits.

  Della was right. They all did look alike. Gabriel saw the curiosity and fascination on the men’s faces as they listened to Kalesia’s every word.

  And he knew the reason.

  They wanted to meet the woman with the warm, husky voice who dared to read erotic love scenes when she knew local and government authorities were recording every word.

  Gabriel had done his best to kill the interest and speculation but, despite his best efforts, word had gotten around about that stunt. Of course, Wolf, Sam and Badger hadn’t helped one iota. The idiots had laughed themselves sick relating the way he had damned near crawled the walls because he couldn’t monitor Kalesia’s reading habits.

  As a result half the sheriff’s office plus the government personnel involved in the operation, had begged, borrowed or stolen invitations so they could see firsthand the woman who was capable of putting Gabriel Steele through the loops. Thank God only a privileged few knew exactly what a feat his new bride had managed.

  And Kalesia just laughed and smiled with them all. He’d wasted his time giving her a lecture on the value of propriety. Obviously, nothing he’d said had made the slightest impact. He’d have to do something about that later.

  And there was still that matter of explaining his stand on a little judiciously applied retribution.

  Gabriel rubbed his forefinger up and down the cool glass. He looked forward to “discussing” the matter with her.

  With a start, he remembered Della. “They’re just paying their respects because she was critical in apprehending Senator Morne.” Gabriel deliberately left the impression that was the whole story.

  “Uh-huh,” she agreed with a distinct air of disbelief.

  It was with a sense of relief that Gabriel saw Harley motioning to him. He excused himself with more haste than grace. Kalesia and her mother definitely shared some traits. It made a man uncomfortable the way they looked at him with clear gazes that saw more than the surface.

  “Thought you might like to know the Feds are going after Morne first. It’s doubtful he’ll be extradited out of the States but because of the ballyhoo that’s been raised, it’s even more doubtful Morne will live to see freedom. Too damn embarrassing for the government.” Harley looked even more cynical than was his wont.

  Wolf soundlessly joined them. “What I don’t understand is why Morne thought you didn’t know Gabriel’s background. He admitted following Gabe’s career.”

  “Probably because I was on my way out by the time he had enough power to actually keep tabs on Gabe. He had no reason to look for me.” Harley turned toward Gabriel. “He was interested in your current movements as they concerned him, not your past. What he failed to take into consideration was that fate is a fickle bitch. She delights in using the most insignificant action or fact when least expected. Morne never even considered that I wouldn’t believe the scenario he planned to set up.”

  “I’ll tell you what I wonder,” Gabriel said, pensive. “I wonder the identity of the person he planned Pompano’s accident as a run-through for?”

  * * * * *

  Gabriel was jarred out of his reverie by the sound of the bathroom door opening. Backlit, Kalesia stood there in a silky nightgown before, an uninhibited laugh echoing on the night air, she ran across the room and sailed into his embrace.

  Gabriel grunted as he caught her and his arms closed about her. Laughing softly at her exuberance, he smoothed the diaphanous material of her gown, searching for the silken flesh under it. “Don’t you own any other color?” he demanded, nuzzling the still damp skin of her throat. The fragrance of exotic, oriental woods and magnolia tantalized his senses.

  Kalesia glanced down, a rueful arch to one elegant brow. “Too much, huh?”

  “You did wear a yellow wedding gown and a yellow garter,” he reminded her.

  “Umm, so I did. That reminds me, however. Talk about a mean and lowdown trick to play on Badger…tossing him my garter. The poor man turned absolutely crimson. I was afraid he was going to melt into a puddle and seep between the cracks of the floor.”

  “He deserved it,” Gabriel defended righteously. “I thought his behavior was too good to be true. He minded his manners during the ceremony like a perfect gentleman. That should have been the tip-off. If I had used the sense God gave a sand flea, I would have hustled him out the door immediately after the service.”

  “So, what was so strange about that? It was my wedding. Badger is my friend. He wouldn’t embarrass me for the world.” Kalesia played with the hair on his chest. She leaned down, tasting him delicately with the tip of her tongue.

  His stomach muscles tightened violently in response. He had to pull his mind back to what he was saying. “No,” he agreed. “He wouldn’t embarrass you but he wouldn’t hesitate a split second to have a go at my expense. Badger was on his best behavior because he had discovered a fresh audience for his outlandish tales. He didn’t want me to catch him until it was too late to put an end to them.”

  Kalesia tilted her head. “Outlandish tales.”

  “Your ‘maid of honor’ was busy as a bee after the ceremony regaling your entire family with several, highly colorful and totally improbable, exploits. I fully expected to find your father coming after me with a shotgun.”

  “It was too late for that. Shotguns and weddings only go together if the groom is unwilling. As I recall, you threatened dire harm to my body if I wasn’t at the church on time. In fact,” she drawled, eyes brilliant, “one might get the impression you were nervous about being left at the altar.” She grinned. “Speaking of my family, my mother, in particular, did I misunderstand her when she said you called my cat Cannibal?”

  Damn. He was going to have to speak to Della about telling tales out of school. “It’s more suitable,” he defended. “That cat has a decided penchant for blood. My blood.” He sipped at her lips, tracing them from one upturned corner to the other. His cock perked up and began to pay attention. He s
tripped the filmy nightgown from her impatiently.

  “Finish telling me about Badger. I didn’t mean to disrupt your train of thought,” Kalesia panted when he let her lips free again.

  “You disrupt my train of thought by simply being in the same room.” He buried his lips in the curve of her shoulder, tickling the soft, fragrant skin with the tip of his tongue. “Anyway, thanks to his meddling, your mother now regards me as a cross between Rambo and Dick Dastardly. Mostly, I get the impression, the latter.” Gabriel shuddered as she found his nipple with her fingers, teasing it to a hard point.

  “Mmm,” she breathed as she moved to nibble his ear. “I’ve always found the bad guy sexier,” she said, and sank her teeth ever-so gently in his lobe. She tugged. “There’s something irresistible and sexy about a black hat.”

  Gabriel reacted as if he’d touched a live wire. He twisted, pinning her beneath him. “Is that so?” he asked, feeling happy and carefree as he gave her a wicked grin. “Then come closer, my dear, so I can show you just how bad I can be!”

  He swept his hands down from her shoulders to her knees, lingering at the full swell of her breast, the indent of her waist and the lush curve of her hip. Then followed with his mouth, intent on igniting a need that would slowly drive Kalesia out of her mind.

  “Gabriel!” she moaned, her breath catching in the back of her throat as his tongue dipped into her navel. The sound was a siren’s sigh.

  “Do you like this, sweet witch?” he asked, brushing his cheek on her stomach, knowing the masculine rasp of his skin would drive her crazy. In response, she raked her nails down his spine, causing him to arch heavily against her thigh, the damp head of his cock marking her as his as he braced his fists on either side of her.

  “Oh, yes, I like that.” She teased his nipples, nipping and raking her teeth across the hard nubs.

  Fire shuddered down his spine, tightening his balls. He closed his eyes. God, she truly was the witch he named her. It should scare him, how vulnerable he was to her. Maybe it would have if she hadn’t been just as vulnerable to him.

  Warm, slender fingers found his aching cock, tracing the veins up the length of him, to just under the cap. She molded him in her palm. White-hot need exploded behind his closed lids.

  “Gabriel, is this part of your promise to explain your stand on fire and brimstone?” Kalesia whispered, nipping a little viciously at the padding of muscle covering his shoulder.

  “Definitely. It may take all night to get my viewpoint properly across.” All thoughts of teasing flew out of Gabriel’s mind as the reality of the day settled over him.

  “Damn, sugar.” Feeling all-powerful, he settled between her thighs and entered her, tormenting them both with a long, slow, exquisitely thorough joining. The smell of aroused woman, the feel of hot, silken wetness as she enclosed him in her welcoming grip, tested his will. He wanted to pound into her, a mindless thrusting that would bring them both to orgasm. He grabbed the last of his will and waited, letting her adjust to his size, the depth of his need. Tonight was her wedding night. He would make it special.

  Even if it killed him.

  Her nipples were flushed dark rose and swollen with need. He took one hard bud between his teeth and bit down with exquisite care until her breath caught. Mmm. She tasted so damn good. He sucked, swirling his tongue in the tiny indent in the middle of her nipple. She moved restlessly, small, erotic moans coming from the back of her throat. He let her flesh go with a soft sounding pop.

  He moved his hips, withdrawing until the head of his cock was just inside her entrance. Slipping his hand between them, he found her clit and gave it a flick before using her own wetness to moisten his finger. He rubbed circles around the engorged flesh. Her nails scored his hips as she pulled him hard against her.

  “Damn you, don’t play with me.”

  “But I like playing with you. It’s not every man who has his own personal witch to tease.”

  Her hand slipped between his legs, cupping his balls.

  His breath caught. Son of a bitch! She was hot. So hot she was burning him alive. He loved every minute of the sweet torture. He wrenched his mouth free, breathing heavily.

  Sweat sheened his shoulders, his arms trembled. He fastened his mouth on hers, tasting, teasing, seeking her sweetness the same way he sought his next breath. He slid back inside her, feeling the walls of her pussy close about him, gripping and milking his aching flesh as she sought fulfillment. A pulse of pre-cum slipped past his control. His lower spine tingled in warning. He was so close to coming.

  She caught a bead of sweat on the tip of her tongue as it ran down between his pecs. The small sensual gesture loosed the reins on his control. He pulled back and thrust hard, his fingers moving faster on her clit. Almost immediately, he remembered his vow to make this night special for her. He slowed the rhythmic thrust of his hips.

  She moaned a protest.

  “Gabriel, I need more. Move,” she ordered.

  A gaspy laugh burst past his lips. “You were the one who wanted to know all about my version of brimstone and retribution,” he reminded her. “I owe you for that scare you gave me.”

  “Now? You intend to chastise me for that now?” Her words ended in a note of raised disbelief.

  He dropped his head beside hers on the pillow and huffed a chuckle into her ear. “You did ask.”

  She put both hands on his cheeks and made him look at her. What she saw there must have reassured her. “Arrogant tomcat.”

  “You like cats.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, her arms going about his neck. She played with the damp strands of hair there. “But I love you.”

  About the Author

  Tall, willowy and drop-dead gorgeous, that’s me. Hey, it’s my fantasy! Actually, I’m a short, mumble-ty something, Southern girl. From the Outer Banks of North Carolina, where ghost and pirate tales reign, an over-active imagination is bred into my genes. When not writing, you can find me reading, riding my Arab or lost in a daydream.

  The author welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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