by Gina Wilkins
“I hope you’re paying him well,” was all she said to Gabe, forcing her voice to sound as cool as his. “You’ve just put his life at risk. Something tells me that’s not what he had in mind when he took this case.”
8
THE CABIN seemed almost unbearably quiet after Blake’s departure. Page and Gabe sat in the living room, trying not to stare at each other. Page thought she would go crazy if one of them didn’t say something soon.
She cleared her throat. “I don’t suppose Blake will have any new information before morning.”
His expression rather brooding, Gabe shook his head. “No. Probably not.”
“Should you call your family? Let them know you’re all right?”
Again, he shook his head. “I’ve told them I’ll be out of town for a few days. That’s all they need to know for now.”
Page plucked at a string that dangled from the hem of her top. “How is your family?” she asked, giving in to the curiosity that had been building inside her.
“They’re fine. Mother fell just before Christmas and sprained her back, which kept her down for a while, but she seems much better now.”
“How awful for her. As active as she is, she must have hated being laid up.”
He glanced at her, as though wondering whether she really cared about his mother’s discomfort or was just making conversation. “Yes. She did.”
He didn’t seem inclined to continue the conversation, but Page persisted, needing to fill the silence between them. She nodded toward the stack of photographs Gabe had replaced on the coffee table after Blake had examined them. “The picture of you and Gabriel at the park—I couldn’t believe how much he’s grown. He looks very much like you.”
“That’s what my mother and my sister both say. Curt sort of resents it,” Gabe said, grudgingly responding to her efforts as he mentioned his brother-in-law.
Page had been especially fond of Gabe’s only sister during the brief time she’d known his family. “Is Annie still working for Dr. Shewmaker?”
He nodded. “She still seems happy running his office.”
“Good for her. I’ve...I’ve missed them all.”
The look he shot her made her bite her lip. “They missed you, too,” he said. “I wasn’t the only one you hurt when you took off.”
She flinched.
He sighed. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I guess I’m on sensory overload right now. A lot has happened today,”
She nodded. They fell silent again.
Gabe finally shoved a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. “We’re both dead on our feet,” he said, making her struggle to suppress a wince at his unfortunate wording. “Let’s get some rest. You take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
She didn’t question the sleeping assignments. Nor did she argue. “Fine.”
“I’m going out to nail that plywood back into place over the window. You can have first shot at the bathroom.”
Page glared at him. “It isn’t necessary to nail me back into the bedroom. I’m not going anywhere.”
There was really no point in trying to escape tonight She had no idea where they were, and Gabe would just follow her, anyway. She knew when to bide her time.
He sighed impatiently. “I’m not nailing you into the bedroom. Obviously, that didn’t work before. I’m simply covering the glass again. I’d just as soon not have anyone peering into the windows without our knowledge.”
She shivered. “That’s a pleasant thought.”
“Yeah, well, this situation has me thinking that way.”
A few minutes later she heard him moving around outside, using the full moon for illumination as he hammered at the plywood with what sounded like a large rock hitting the nails still stuck in the board. She rubbed her hands over her face, dreading the next few hours.
Alone all night in a cabin with a man who was legally her husband. A man she’d once given her heart and her body to with equal abandon. A man who looked at her now as though he could hardly stand to be in the same room with her.
She took a deep, unsteady breath, and reminded herself that she’d locked the hurt away with those other feelings that were too intense for her to handle now. And then she headed for the bathroom to get ready for bed.
She didn’t wear a nightie, but a large black T-shirt over a pair of gray sweatpants, with white tube socks. Hardly sexy sleeping attire—but she wasn’t trying to seduce anyone. She was only interested in being ready to run at a moment’s notice, if necessary.
Or so she told herself.
She was in bed by the time Gabe came back into the cabin. He’d taken his time outside. Had he been patrolling the premises for signs of danger? Or trying to avoid being alone inside with her for as long as possible?
Either way, she decided she didn’t really want to know.
He went into the bathroom without looking at her as she lay in the darkened bedroom. The door closed with a snap. Lying on her side, idly fingering the chain around her throat, she stared blindly at nothing, and listened to his movements. She heard the shower running, and pictured him stripping off his clothes and stepping beneath the water.
She gulped and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to close out the disturbing image. It didn’t help. The picture stayed in her mind with unsettling clarity.
.She told herself she was suddenly hot because the cabin was stuffy with all the doors and windows closed. There was no air-conditioning, no fan to move the air. She didn’t want to believe her sudden heat had anything to do with the mental image of Gabe lathering himself with soap.
She ached. Until Gabe had held her while she’d cried a few hours earlier, it had been two and a half years since she’d allowed herself human contact. She’d almost forgotten how nice it felt to be touched. Hugged. Stroked.
Loved.
And, oh, God, it hurt.
This was exactly what her stalker wanted, she reminded herself despairingly. He wanted her to be achingly aware of her solitude. He wanted her to crave companionship with a need that bordered physical pain. He wanted her to know exactly how it felt to be totally alone, even when surrounded by others. He would be delighted to know how much she was suffering now.
What had she done to him to deserve this?
“Page?”
She jumped at the unexpected sound of Gabe’s voice from the shadows. “What?”
“You okay?”
She wondered if she’d made some sound in her misery. “I’m fine,” she said.
“I’ll be on the couch, if you need me.”
She nodded against the pillows, then remembered that he couldn’t see her clearly in the darkness. “All right”
“G’night.”
“Good night, Gabe.”
He hesitated in the doorway a moment longer, as though there was something else he wanted to say, and then he turned and moved away. Page slowly let out the unsteady breath she’d been holding.
THOUGH SHE HADN’T expected to, Page slept awhile. She woke with a dry mouth and the feeling that her dreams had been disturbing, though she couldn’t remember the details. There was no clock in the bedroom, but she’d left her watch on the nightstand. She groped for it, and pushed the button to illuminate the dial.
Three a.m. Monday, she remembered.
It was hard to believe it had been Saturday morning when Gabe had found her in Des Moines. So much had happened in such a short time.
She was still tired, but she didn’t expect to go immediately back to sleep. She needed a drink of water. She wondered if she would be able to slip into the kitchen without waking Gabe.
Telling herself she shouldn’t risk it, she rolled onto her back and tried to sleep. But her thirst wouldn’t be ignored. The room seemed to get stuffier, her mouth drier. Finally she sighed, tossed the sheet aside and swung her legs over the side of the bed.
Her socks made no sound on the hardwood floor as she tiptoed across the room to the open doorway. Gabe had apparently left a light on in the ki
tchen. Keeping her eyes fixed on that welcome glimmer, she made her way carefully past the couch where he lay, his breathing deep and even.
The dim light over the stove was burning when she entered the kitchen. She was glad Gabe had thought to leave it on. It provided all the illumination she needed to find a plastic tumbler in the cabinet and fill it with water from the tap. She tipped the glass back and drained it gratefully.
There was a tiny window over the sink, a round piece of glass that resembled a ship’s porthole. The owner hadn’t bothered to board that one, and Page stood for a moment gazing out at the moonlight silvered woods.
She saw no other lights, no evidence of any civilization near the little cabin. She was torn between optimism that the stalker would never find them in such an isolated place, and fear that there would be no one to help them if he did.
“What are you doing?”
The husky growl caught her unprepared. Page gasped and whirled, stumbling against the countertop, the plastic tumbler falling from her hand to clatter against the linoleum floor.
“It’s just me,” Gabe said, stepping into the soft light to reveal an expanse of hard bare chest above the cotton gym shorts that was all he wore. “Chill out.”
She had a hand pressed over her racing heart. She glared at him, annoyed at his casual attitude about scaring her half out of her wits. She tried to ignore how very good he looked, his tanned skin gleaming in the soft light, his coffee-brown hair tousled from sleep, his amber eyes heavy and glittering.
“I didn’t hear you get up,” she said.
“I thought you might be trying to leave again.”
“I was getting a drink,” she said haughtily. “I told you I wouldn’t try to leave.”
“Yeah, well, I tend to be a bit skeptical about your promises these days.”
The words stung. She crossed her arms defensively over her chest, and swallowed the automatic protest that sprang to her lips.
Gabe grimaced and shoved a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry,” he muttered. “That wasn’t necessary.”
“No. It wasn’t.”
“I’m just tired, I guess.”
She nodded stiffly. “I’ll let you get back to sleep, then. I’m sorry I disturbed you.”
She moved toward the doorway, intending to breeze past him, but he remained where he was, blocking her path.
Looking at him uncertainly, she paused. “Was there something else?”
He started to speak, then closed his mouth and shook his head. “No. I guess not.”
He moved aside.
She tingled all over as she passed within touching distance of all that bare male skin. She kept her hands carefully at her sides.
He followed her to the bedroom. “Page?”
She laced her fingers in front of her and turned toward him. He stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the faint light from the kitchen. She couldn’t see his face, and she doubted that he could make out her expression, either. “Yes?”
“How long were you going to keep running? How did you think this would end?”
“I don’t know.” She spoke softly, but her voice seemed to echo in the silent shadows. “I told myself I would run as long as I had to. Maybe I was foolishly hoping he would come to his senses one day and leave me alone. I haven’t had much time to think or to plan during the past thirty months, only to react.”
“You never considered calling me? Asking for my help?”
The hurt was still there, in his voice. The sense of betrayal. Of wounded male pride.
“We’ve been over this, Gabe. I was afraid to involve you.”
“You thought I was so incapable of taking care of myself? Of you?”
“I didn’t want to take the chance. I couldn’t risk your life,” she repeated stubbornly.
“Damn it, Page.” His voice was raw. “You keep saying you left me to save my life. Didn’t you ever stop to think that without you I had no life?”
She caught her breath. “I’d been on my own for a long time,” she tried to explain, wishing there was something she could say to soothe his pain. “I was used to being alone, to dealing with my own problems. But you—you had your family. Your friends. Your business. I was in your life such a short time. I—”
His curse was vicious. Earthy. Unexpected.
“You are my wife,” he said, his voice strained. “Three weeks, three years—or thirty—it wouldn’t have mattered. Everything changed for me when I married you. We were supposed to be a team,” he finished bitterly.
She closed her eyes, swaying slightly on her feet. “I know. I wanted that, too. But he came so close to killing you with that falling beam. I was so afraid...”
She opened her eyes, willing him to understand. “There were so many times I wanted to call you. So many times I wanted to tell you everything. To beg you to forgive me. But when he killed Buddy—my kitten—I realized how cruel he could be. And when he killed poor Detective Pratt, a trained police officer, I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to go after you.”
Her breath caught. “I didn’t want to leave you, Gabe. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. The past two years have been sheer hell for me, but I’ve gotten through them because I believed I was doing the best thing for you. I told myself if I had to spend the rest of my life on the run, it would be worth it, because no one could ever take away my memories of the twelve perfect weeks I’d had with you.”
She didn’t add that she hadn’t even allowed herself to savor those memories during the time she’d been away from him. It had simply hurt too much to remember.
“And you really thought I could forget those weeks?” he asked, sounding incredulous. “Just put our marriage behind me and go back to the way things were before I met you? You honestly thought my feelings were that shallow?”
“I—No...”
Had she thought it would be so easy for him? Had she had so little faith in the love he’d claimed for her that she’d thought he could put it behind him and go on as if he’d never met her?
She still remembered how amazed she’d been when Gabe Conroy, the handsome, virile, dashing young man she’d fallen in love with almost at first sight, had told her he’d felt the same way about her.
She’d been shy and inexperienced and awed by the intensity of her feelings for Gabe. She’d fallen in love for the first time in her life. She’d been literally swept off her feet by Gabe’s passionate, whirlwind court-ship—but had she failed to comprehend how much it had truly meant to him?
“I’m so very sorry I hurt you, Gabe,” she murmured. “If there had been any other way...”
He sighed wearily. “There was another way, Page. You could have told me.”
“I wouldn’t risk your life,” she repeated. How many times had she already told him that? How many more times would it take before he believed that she’d had no other choice?
“Why can’t you understand,” she asked, “that I loved you enough to give up everything for you?”
“And why can’t you understand,” he asked roughly, “that we should have faced this together? I know you’d been accustomed to handling everything on your own before we met, but when you married me that was supposed to have changed. We married for better or worse, remember?”
“Until death do us part,” she whispered with a shiver. “And that was an ending I just wasn’t ready to face.”
“We keep coming back to the same place,” he muttered, sounding discouraged. “You say you’re sorry, but you still won’t admit that you were wrong to leave.”
She swallowed a huge lump in her throat. “I couldn’t let him hurt you,” she whispered.
“And yet you almost destroyed me,” he answered starkly.
Another sob ripped through her. “I’m—Oh, God, Gabe, I only wanted—”
Before she’d even realized he’d moved, he had her in his arms. He held her in a desperate, almost painful grip, his face buried in her hair. She felt the fine tremors running th
rough him, and she clung to him, offering comfort, seeking something she was afraid to define.
His skin was so warm. She’d almost forgotten how the muscles rippled beneath the surface, how the coarseness of hair contrasted so deliciously with the sleekness of flesh. She could feel his heart hammering in his chest. His erection swelling against her abdomen.
He still smelled faintly of soap and shampoo from his quick shower. Nestling against him, she closed her eyes and indulged herself in experiencing him with her other senses.
His mouth moved against her cheek, and then closed over hers. Page lost herself in the kiss.
She’d been alone for so long. For so long, she’d dreamed of him holding her like this, comforting her, sheltering her from the pain, the fear.
A groan rumbled deep in Gabe’s throat, making his chest vibrate against her breasts. He worked his hands beneath her loose T-shirt to stroke her bare back. His palms were warm against her skin—hot. Greedy. He slid one hand lower to pull her more snugly against him.
He wanted her. She had no doubt of that. He made no effort to hide the evidence. But was there more? He’d loved her once—did he still? Were the old feelings still there, buried somewhere beneath the hurt and the pain?
“Page,” he said, his voice raspy. Shaken. “I—”
She pulled back to look at him, straining to see him in the darkness. She saw only the feverish glitter of his eyes. The hunger. The need.
A need that seemed to match her own.
She placed her hand gently against the rock-hard line of his jaw. For the first time in so very long, they were together. Alone. They had this one night.
If nothing else, she thought wistfully, maybe she’d been given a chance to properly say goodbye to him. A chance that she had been too afraid to take before.
“I’ve missed you, Gabe. I’ve missed you so badly.” She ran a fingertip over his mouth, and felt his lower lip quiver beneath her touch. She remembered the first time he’d kissed her. How she’d known even then that her life would never be the same.