by Diana Duncan
She swung open the door. Moonlight streamed through a gap in the curtains, illuminating the center of the room, where Gabe thrashed on the bed.
"Please. Please, no," he begged. "Don't."
She hurried to his side, and bent over the writhing man. "Gabe?" Her fingertips touched his warm cheek.
His strong hands grabbed her upper arms. The room spun as she whirled through space. In an instant, she was thrown on her back onto the mattress. His hard weight pressed her body down, held her immobile. His hand clamped over her mouth. His forearm squeezed her throat.
Panic screamed through her. Her vision darkened around the edges as she struggled to breathe. She kicked and squirmed, clawing at the steely arm across her throat, her muffled cries smothered to tiny squeaks.
Suddenly Gabe jerked. His loud gasp echoed in the silent room. "Tessa?" He snatched his hands away. "Oh, God," his sleep-roughened voice rasped into her ear. "Are you all right?"
Trembling all over, she gulped in huge draughts of air.
"Talk to me, honey." His shaking hands cradled her face, soothing, stroking. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"
She swallowed. "I'm fine. You were having a nightmare—"
"Yeah." He was shaking so hard the bed vibrated beneath them. "That happens." He buried his face in her neck.
She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. "It's all right," she soothed.
Still trembling, he clenched his fists in her hair, clinging to her like a security blanket. "Don't leave me," he whispered brokenly.
Her heart turned over. "I'm here." She rubbed his damp, taut-muscled back. "Who hurt you so badly, Gabe?"
He quivered in her embrace, clearly fighting for control. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, his shaking eased and he lifted his head. The agony in his eyes stabbed into her soul. "I'm—I'm okay."
He closed his eyes for a heartbeat. When his thick lashes floated up again, only a raw shadow of pain remained, the rest shoved back into the secret part of him he hid so well. "I'm sorry. It's survival training. Reflex. Don't ever touch me without waking me first." He choked out a ragged laugh that held more torment than humor. "That's what happens when you sneak in here in the middle of the night. Next time you want into my bed, just ask."
She was in Gabe's bed. Tessa's hammering pulse kicked up another notch. Her robe had opened in the struggle and her bare legs were intimately entwined with his slightly rough, muscled thighs. His scent bombarded her, warm and fresh and blatantly male. Her stomach clenched. Flames licked through her, burning out of control.
Gabe had sworn he wouldn't kiss her again unless she asked. She stared into his eyes. If she asked now, how would he react? Would he tense, like Dale? Would he laugh?
Or would he cover her mouth with his. Devour her. Slide his lips down her neck, then move lower to quench the fire raging inside her.
As though he read her thoughts, Gabe's pupils dilated. His hungry gaze scorched her face, the feeling as hot and compelling as if his fingertips had stroked her skin. His heart thundered against her own. But he didn't move. He waited, exactly as he'd promised, his taut weight immobile on top of her.
All she had to do was ask.
She drew a shuddering breath. "Gabe?"
"Yeah, honey?" His raw, husky growl shivered up her spine.
She gulped. "Do you think you could get off me now?"
He whispered a curse and scrambled off her like she had the plague.
Gathering her robe closed, she fled to her room.
She slammed her bedroom door and fell against the panel, sickened to her soul, her chest hollow and aching. She didn't know if she despised herself more for nearly betraying Dale…
Or because she hadn't had the guts to stay with Gabe.
* * *
Chapter 9
« ^ »
The dark, rich smell of coffee enticed Tessa awake. The clock on the nightstand read 10:00 a.m. She hadn't slept this late since her bout with the flu last winter. She combed her fingers through her curls before she shrugged on her robe, belting the sapphire silk tightly on her way to the kitchen.
Dressed in a body-hugging gray T-shirt and faded jeans, Gabe sat at the small dining-room table with the Sunday paper spread in front of him. Faint blue smudges marred the skin beneath his eyes. He took a sip of coffee. "Mornin'." He didn't meet her gaze, focusing somewhere near her chin.
"Good morning." She crossed to the coffeemaker and poured a generous helping of the steaming, fragrant brew before taking a chair opposite him. "About last night—"
He stiffened. A muscle twitched in his cheek, his distress radiating across the table. Obviously, he didn't want to talk about his nightmare. This morning, the light that normally shone from him had dimmed, revealing the shadows under the surface. Shadows he tried so hard to hide. She relented. None of her business, anyway. "Never mind. I have a list of errands to complete before the rehearsal this afternoon."
He dropped his head forward and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Okay."
"If you don't want to come with me—"
"No." He straightened. "You're not going alone. I'm ready when you are."
After a quick shower, she clipped back her hair, donned brown tweed slacks and a rust-colored knit twin-set, then chose a beige suit and matching pumps to change into at the church.
Wearing a gray wool sport jacket over his T-shirt and jeans, Gabe entered the front door as she stepped into the living room. He still wouldn't meet her gaze. "Car is clean."
A horrible suspicion made her stomach lurch. "You mean—do you suspect a bomb?" she whispered.
"A precaution." He thrust his fingers through his hair, making the short, raven strands stand on end. "Nobody knows our location, but I don't take your safety for granted. I won't let anybody hurt you, so relax." He opened the door. "Let's go. We're driving Miss Tessa in the 'Vette today."
Tense and anxious, she couldn't help but watch the side mirror as he drove into the city.
"Earth to Tessa. I asked what our first stop should be."
Belatedly, she realized he'd spoken to her. Twice. She opened her day planner. "I need to run by the bank and check on the ATM. Then Mario's Bakery, right around the corner."
"They pay you to service that machine on your day off?"
"No, but I want to. I feel a responsibility to make sure things at the bank function smoothly."
He grimaced. "Responsibility. Such ugly language so early in the morning."
"Why do you pretend like you don't care about anything? I know better."
His lean, capable hands convulsed on the wheel, the knuckles white. "What you see is what you get." His mouth quirked in a humorless smile. "Like I said before, a rolling stone gathers no chains."
And no foundations, no support. No love. She absorbed his grief like a physical blow. Her heart contracted. In reality, the good-time guy was a solitary, lonely man.
He parked at the curb. "The bank, ma belle. You going inside?"
"No, I'll try a withdrawal." She felt Gabe's intent gaze focused on her as she walked to the machine. The ATM spit out forty dollars without a fuss, so she pocketed her card and hustled back. As she reached the car, the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She paused with her fingers on the door handle. If she didn't know better… Her gaze darted to the left.
Gabe appeared beside her before she finished the thought. He shielded her body with his as he flung open the door and shoved her inside. Hand inside his jacket, his gaze swept the deserted sidewalk before leaning down to ask, "What?"
"Nothing." She sucked in a shaky breath. "I've felt jittery since I realized you searched for a bomb this morning."
His gaze scanned the block again before he returned to the driver's seat. "We're going home."
"No! The rehearsal is this afternoon, and since Frederick flaked out, I've got to confirm the details and pay the balances today." She put her hand on his forearm, tempered steel under the soft wool. "It's anxiety. Everything is fine."
"Yes." A relieved sigh whispered out of her.
Inside Mario's, the warm, yeasty smell of fresh-baked bread tantalized her nostrils. Mario looked up from behind the glass counter, gifting her with a beaming smile. "Miss Beaumont. You have come to confirm?" He opened his order book.
"Yes. Chocolate cake with peach blush roses."
His bushy gray brows furrowed. "But your mama-in-law ordered the all-white poppy seed with white fleur de lis."
She might have known. Good thing she'd decided to double-check everything and pay the remaining balances in person. "I would prefer to stick to my original order. The chocolate, please." No matter what Lucille thought, Tessa wasn't about to let the other woman control her. And if push came to shove, who would Dale support, her or his mother? She tuned out the little warning voice that said "Lucille" and crossed bakery off her list.
Mario wrote on his tablet. "All right. Now, Lucille, she wanted a plain white bow on the top."
She studied a display of tiny figurines. Tearing her gaze from a raven-haired groom embracing an auburn bride, she shook her head. "Bride and groom. Blond groom, auburn bride."
Beside her, Gabe inhaled sharply. He stalked to the window, fidgeting with the buttons on his jacket while she paid.
Their next stop was Petal Pusher Florals. Gabe held open the glass door and silently followed her past tiers of rainbow-colored blooms. The perfumed bouquets sweetened the autumn air with warm memories of summer.
A crystal vase overflowing with apricot roses caught her attention. "Mmm. My favorites." Unable to resist, she reached out a fingertip to stroke the velvety peach petals before leaning down and burying her nose in the tea-scented softness.
Gabe choked. She jerked her gaze up and saw him running a finger around the collar of his T-shirt. "What's the matter?"
Scowling, he pivoted, nearly knocking over a pot of yellow mums. Ramrod-stiff, he stared at a purple-and-white sympathy arrangement. "Nada."
She sighed. Though blessed with abnormal patience, even Dale hated shopping. For fly-at-warp-speed Gabe, this must be torture.
The florist arrived bearing Tessa's wedding folder. Tessa nixed Lucille's purple-and-white orchids and requested apricot roses instead. If it resulted in a showdown at the church, so be it. No matter what, nothing was going to stop her dream of security and having a family.
Tessa consulted her list. "Wedding gown. Bernard's Bridals is two blocks over and one down."
When Gabe didn't move, she prompted him. "Hello?"
He blinked, shaking his head. "Two blocks over and one down," he parroted. Even though he was right beside her, his mind seemed miles away.
They entered the bridal store, where he dropped into a chair outside the fitting room. Leaning back, he stretched out long, hard-muscled legs, his arms crossed over his chest. While she waited for the clerk, Tessa wandered over to a nearby evening-wear display.
"Here you are, Miss Beaumont." The clerk returned, bearing her Victorian lace gown. "Oh, and Mrs. Winters selected something special for you last week. I brought it along for your approval." The clerk held up a filmy pink negligee, so sheer Tessa could see through the fabric to the store beyond.
The clerk draped the nightgown against Tessa. "Lucille is right. This hot little number will turn any man from teddy bear to tiger. Your husband won't be able to keep his hands off you."
All the blood drained from Tessa's face. Light-headed and queasy, she groped for the dress rack to steady herself.
A strangled cough burst out of Gabe. He surged to his feet. "I'll be outside." He rushed out of the shop like his pants were on fire.
The clerk zipped her dress into a garment bag. Tessa declined the provocative negligee and joined Gabe. He was pacing the sidewalk. Though the temperature hovered near a pleasant sixty degrees, sweat beaded his forehead and upper lip.
"Are you all right?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" he snapped, wiping his face on his sleeve. "All this froufrou girly sh…crap is getting on my nerves, that's all."
This man had robbed her bank with cool control, played chicken with speeding police cars and calmly dispatched a gun-toting giant. But he was falling apart while running errands?
Enlightenment belatedly dawned. "I'd forgotten. When you kidnapped me, you mentioned marriage being akin to prison. Your phobia must be nearly as bad as mine to the ocean."
"Uncomfortable, yeah," he muttered. "But I've never unraveled before."
She looked at his grim face, then her watch. Only an hour until the rehearsal. "Let's grab some sandwiches and head for the park. We can eat and relax before the rehearsal."
"Don't change your plans on my account," he growled. "I'm a big boy, I can hack it."
"I'm a little frazzled and could use some fresh air myself. It's a beautiful day." She slipped her arm through his. "Daffy's Deli is right up the street. They make a killer pastrami sub."
He covered her hand with his, giving her fingers a squeeze. "Careful. I might start to think you actually like me."
She liked him all right. More than she wanted to admit. She squelched the disturbing thought as she stashed her wedding gown in the car. They strolled down the block, arm in arm. "Stay out from under my desk and we'll get along fine."
He stopped so suddenly, she stumbled, and he had to catch her. He pointed at a boutique window. "That's perfect for you."
Tessa stared at a mannequin wearing an amber crepe sheath and matching jacket. "Too bright and too short." And the form-fitting cut would reveal way too much of the body underneath.
He snorted. "Give me a break. The skirt hits two inches above the knee." He tugged her hand. "That aged whiskey color exactly matches your eyes. Try it on."
"No." But she wanted to. The dress was beautiful.
He wiggled his impudent brows. "It's on me. A wedding gift." He pointed at the mannequin's feet. "Including footwear. Aren't those Italian?"
She groaned inwardly. Buttery brown leather pumps, exquisitely crafted. How could any sane woman resist those shoes?
"And a purse, too. You're on your way to your wedding rehearsal. Don't you want to knock 'em dead?"
Lucille would disapprove. But maybe the snappy outfit would inspire a spark of interest in her fiancé's eyes. "You should be a used-car salesman. I have a perfectly good suit in the car, but who can resist this temptation?"
"If only you found me that irresistible all the time." He chuckled.
Truth be told, the longer she knew him, the harder he was to resist. In every way. Their gazes met. Held. As if he'd read her mind, heat flared in his eyes. A short, awkward silence ticked by until she jerked her gaze back to the dress. What was the matter with her? She had a wonderful man waiting at the church. She banished her idiotic imagination and determinedly marched through the boutique door.
Twenty minutes later, she strode up the sidewalk wearing the gold sheath, accessorized by brown Florentine leather pumps and a matching purse. Brand-new topaz earrings set in lacy gold filigree dangled from her ears.
Gabe smiled. "Did I mention that you look fantastic?"
She felt wonderful, too. To be perfectly honest, in the few weeks since Gabe had burst into her life, she'd had more fun than in her entire steady, well-planned existence. An answering smile lifted her lips. "Merely six times. But thank you. Again."
"No sweat. My pleasure. Now the only thing that will make me happier is chow. My stomach thinks my throat's been cut."
Luckily, the deli wasn't busy, and within fifteen minutes they arrived at Laurelwood Park with sandwiches, coffee and chocolate éclairs tucked in a white paper bag.
Tessa chose a table near the pond, and Gabe slid onto the bench across from her. She handed him his coffee and sandwich.
He bit a giant chunk out of the sub, and his face lit up. "Mmm, you're right, these are great."
"I told you." A smile tugged at her lips as she poi
nted at a gaggle of squawking ducks charging across the pond. "Let's save our crusts for those guys. They look hungrier than you."
One corner of his mouth quirked. "Okay, but they're not getting my éclair. It looks melt-on-your-tongue soft and sweet." His eyes sparkled with a familiar roguish glint for the first time in far too long. "Exactly the way I like it."
Warmth tingled over her. One look from him and she nearly incinerated. Dale had never affected her that way. Guilty heat flooded her cheeks. Dale had stood by her for two years. Soon, Gabe would be nothing but a memory. "You must be recovered from shopping. You're back to your normal obnoxious self."
Gabe wiggled his eyebrows. In the midst of the teasing action, he tensed, and his alert gaze darted over her shoulder.
His unexpected, taut wariness jolted her. "What?" She whirled, looking behind her.
"It's okay. Eat."
Just like at the ATM, a creepy feeling put her on edge. She tried to shake it off. Gabe's watchdog attitude must be getting to her. Either that, or these odd pre-wedding jitters.
When they'd finished their meal, she stood. A walk in the brisk autumn air might help. "Let's walk around the pond."
They strolled the path, stopping to toss their crusts into the water and laugh at the ducks who rushed to squabble over the crumbs. As they rounded the trail at the far end, Tessa noticed Gabe sneak a glance over her shoulder. Again. Sudden chills wracked her with a shiver. "Maybe we better head for St. Michael's."
Without any warning, he grasped her arm and steered her toward an oak tree. He pushed her against the broad trunk. Planting both hands on either side of her head, he leaned down. "Shh." He bent closer. "Look at me and smile, like we're having a cozy chat. Don't look to either side."
She went ice-cold. Her heart kicked into high gear. "What's happening?"
"Maintenance shed twenty feet to your left. There's a guy behind the corner, watching you. I think he's been following us." His gaze held hers and she stared into the cool, alert depths. He was about to conduct business again.
She started to shake.
"The tree is between you and him. Stay put. Unless bullets start flying. In that case, hit the ground."