by D. L. O'Neal
"It is." He shrugged his shoulders. "I decided Cannibal suited him better. God knows, that blasted cat draws my blood every chance he gets." For a while there, he had actually entertained the idea that they might possibly get along. He was willing to bend that far to please Kalesia. Besides, Hannibal had fought on his side against Pompano. Gabriel guessed he had forgotten to inform that seven-toed beast of his change of heart.
"What does Kalesia think of the new name?" Della asked her new son-in-law curiously.
"I haven't told her yet," Gabriel admitted with a quirk to his mouth. She started laughing.
Della became serious, pinning Gabriel with a very direct gaze that was more than a little reminiscent of Kalesia. "Take care of my daughter, Mr. Steele. She deserves some happiness." She hesitated. "I know I haven't been the best of mothers. I never could understand that psychic stuff. But she loves you. I've never seen her so supremely confident. She has absolute trust in you, Gabriel Steele. Make her happy or you'll have to deal with me."
"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 swallowed hard. 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.
"Kalesia's made some unusual acquaintances lately," the older woman began delicately.
Gabriel smiled, appreciating her tact. "Badger? 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 proceeding 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 dryly. She smiled, reminding him again of Kalesia. She possessed the same impish amusement. "But that isn't exactly what I meant. I may be naive, 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. Gabriel frowned darkly. 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 steamy 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 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. They never could resist a good story.
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 first hand the woman who was capable of putting Gabriel Steele through the loops. Especially once rumor had spread that he had been one of them. Thank God only a privileged few knew exactly what a feat Kalesia 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 green 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 want.
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 mistress. 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, laughing uninhibitedly, 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 tantalized his senses.
Kalesia glanced down ruefully. "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 tipoff. 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.
Gabriel's 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 bright, "one might get the impression you were nervous about being left at the altar." She grinned. "Speaking of my family, in particular my mother, 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," Gabriel 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.
"Finish telling me about Badger. I didn't mean to disrupt your train of thought," Kalesia panted when her lips were free again.
"You disrupt my train of thought by simply being in the same room. 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, teasing it to a hard point.
"Mmm," she breathed as she moved to nibble his ear. "I've always found the bad guy sexier," and sank her teeth ever-so gently in his lobe. "There's something irresistibly sexy about a black hat."
Gabriel reacted as if he'd been touched by a bare wire. He twisted, pinning her beneath him. "Is that so?" he grinned wickedly. "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. She raked her nails down his spine, causing him to arch heavily against her thigh.
"Oh, yes, I like that." She teased his nipples with her lips. He quivered under her touch. He was just as vulnerable to her as she was to him. Her fingers found his aching shaft, molding him in her palm. Maybe more so, he decided, as 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 throatily, nipping a little viciously at the padding of muscle covering his shoulder.
"Definitely. It may take all night to properly get across my viewpoint." All thoughts of teasing flew out of Gabriel's mind as the reality of the day settled over him.
"Ah, love." Feeing all-powerful, he entered her, tormenting them both with a long, slow, exquisitely thorough joining.
"Gabriel?" Kalesia wrapped her legs around his hips, the small unicorn charm, tiny bells chiming as she moved restlessly.
"What?" he murmured through gritted teeth as he controlled the urge to thrust wildly.
"There is one advantage to wearing so much yellow," she said, framing his face between her palms and kissing the corner of his mouth.
Gabriel lifted his head, confused.
"You don't show any preference whether it is a boy or a girl."
"Are you...?"
"Not yet."
Laughter floated out over the river, turning the night into a warm, comforting place.
The End
D.L. O'Neal
D.L. O'Neal cannot decide whether she belongs in the past or in the future. She gets her love of history from growing up on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, where events of seventy years ago are talked of like they happened yesterday. The future, however, is alive with possibilities that hold endless fascination for her. Perhaps the present, after all, provides the best of both worlds.
She currently lives in Wyoming with her Arabian horses, two dogs, two cockatiels and several cats who rule the place. Don't miss her other Hard Shell title: A WARRIOR'S HEART.