"Pizza with the works, just like the lady ordered," he said. He reached into the sack he'd brought, coming up with two plates and a handful of napkins.
"It smells heavenly."
He lifted out a thick slice dripping with cheese and set it on a plate, which he handed to her with a flourish.
Charity picked the pizza up and bit into it, closing her eyes in ecstasy as the rich taste filled her mouth. Her tongue came out to catch a bit of sauce on her upper lip and Gabe was startled by a sudden flash of awareness.
He dropped his eyes, not wanting her to see what might be written there. He set a slice of pizza on a plate for himself, though he wasn't particularly hungry.
Careful, London, he cautioned himself. The attraction he'd felt for Charity had to be put aside—one of those sweet, foolish dreams that wasn't meant to be. She might welcome his presence now when any distraction was welcome, but there'd come a time when he was only a reminder of a painful and frightening episode in her life. If that time came when she was walking again, he'd bow out of her life without regrets.
He suppressed the doubting voice that suggested that the regrets were likely to be fierce and hard to shake off.
"Something wrong with your pizza?" Charity's question brought Gabe's head up to meet her quizzical expression.
"I always consider the first bite very carefully," he told her condescendingly. "There's an art to these things."
"Of course there is," she agreed. "And the most important aspect is how fast you can eat. Otherwise, someone else gets more. Another slice, please, gargon." Grinning, she handed him her empty plate.
Gabe pushed away the uneasiness he felt and settled down to a serious competition. At the moment the most important thing was to see her smiling.
"I cant believe that guy had the nerve to visit you!" Brian Williams scowled at his youngest sister, who returned-the look calmly. It was a source of unending wonderment to her that this certified genius who was revolutionizing the computer industry had a temper more suited to a guard dog.
There was none of the stereotypical computer nerd about Brian. No glasses, no hump-shouldered posture from too many hours at a keyboard, no ink stains on his shirt pocket. He actually looked more like an athlete, which he was, than a computer whiz.
"I don't see any reason why Gabe shouldn't visit," Charity said calmly.
"No reason?" Brian's blue eyes expressed his amazement. "Would you explain it to her?" he appealed to Diane and then gave Charity the explanation before Diane could say anything. "The man shot you. It's his fault you're in here. His fault you can't walk."
"Temporarily," Charity corrected, her voice tight. "Temporarily can't walk."
Brian paused, realizing how tactless his words had been. "Of course it's temporary," he said gruffly. "But that's not the point."
"No it isn't," Charity agreed. "Even if the paralysis were permanent, it still wouldn't be Gabe's fault. You weren't there, Brian. You don't know what the situation was. He risked his life to keep those men from shooting any of the hostages."
"Yeah, right. So they didn't shoot them. He did," Brian said with heavy sarcasm.
"It was an accident. I've told you that before. I'm the one who got in the way. If I'd stayed where I was, this wouldn't have happened."
"You were trying to save that woman's life," Brian said, leaping to her defense.
"And he was trying to save all our lives.'' She lifted her hand when he would have continued. "I don't want to hear any more about it, Brian. I know you're worried about me and I appreciate it, but I like Gabe and if he wants to visit, he's welcome."
Brian shut his mouth with an audible snap, glaring at her. Charity returned the look calmly. After a moment he looked away, muttering something about stubborn women and people who didn't know what was good for them.
"I'm going to get a cup of that stuff they call coffee," he announced abruptly. Charity watched him leave the room and turned to look at Diane.
"Don't start," she warned. "There's nothing wrong with Gabe coming to see me."
"Of course not, Char." But Diane's beautiful eyes showed her concern. "We just don't want to see you hurt. After all, Mom and Dad aren't here and we're the only family you've got."
"If you're trying to tell me that Mom and Dad wouldn't approve of Gabe, I don't buy it. Mom would have baked him some of her inedible whole-wheat oatmeal surprise cookies and Dad would want to know his opinion of teaching Latin in high school."
"Probably," Diane admitted, smiling reluctantly. The truth was, their parents had never met anyone they didn't approve of. They could have found something good in Jack the Ripper.
"It wasn't Gabe's fault," Charity said for what felt like the hundredth time.
"I know. I really do," she emphasized, catching Charity's disbelieving look. "I just worry that...well, you've got to admit you're sort of vulnerable right now." She spoke slowly, choosing her words with care. "I don't want to see you hurt, Charity. Neither does Brian."
"You think I might be reading too much into Gabe's visits?" Unconsciously Charity reached for the teddy bear Gabe had brought only that afternoon, saying he'd thought the bear looked like it needed some company. She kneaded her fingers in the soft, dark fur.
"This is the guy you mentioned the day before. . .before this happened." Diane's graceful gesture encompassed Charity's useless legs. "When we were having tea and I was bugging you about not dating. You said there was a man you found attractive. I remember the name, Gabriel London."
Charity frowned, trying to remember the conversation. That quiet afternoon seemed a hundred years ago. Yes, she remembered mentioning Gabe, but it had been just in passing. He'd popped into her head for some reason when Diane was urging her to date more.
"Just because I mentioned him, said he was attractive, doesn't mean I'm stupid enough to think the man is in love with me," Charity protested. "I know he's only visiting because he feels guilty."
"I'm sure he likes you," Diane protested.
"Sure he does. That's my problem, remember? Men always like me." Charity rolled her eyes to show that it didn't bother her a bit. "The only reason he isn't telling me about his girlfriend is because he feels sorry for me."
"Does he have a girlfriend?" Diane asked, and Charity knew she was hoping he did. If Gabe was already involved, there'd, be less chance of her getting hurt.
"I'm sure he does." She shrugged, ignoring the small ache the idea brought to her heart. "A man like Gabe isn't likely to be running loose." She plucked restlessly at one stuffed ear, wishing Diane would stop looking at her with that worried expression.
She wasn't a child who still believed in fairy tales. She knew perfectly well that once she was walking again, Gabriel London would walk right out of her life. But in the meantime, there was nothing wrong with enjoying his company. He made her laugh. These days, that counted for quite a lot.
It wasn't as if she were going to do something stupid ... like fall in love with him.
❧
"You cant go back to your apartment, Char. Be reasonable."
Gabe paused outside Charity's room. In the week he'd been visiting, he hadn't run into her sister or her brother, but it looked as if that was about to change.
"I don't see why not," Charity said, and Gabe wondered if it was his imagination that put an audible strain in her voice.
"How about the fact that there's a flight of stairs leading up to it? You can't manage those in a... in a wheelchair." Diane stumbled over the word.
Gabe winced at the mental image of Charity in a wheelchair. His hands clenched into fists in the pockets of his light jacket. There was still no feeling in her legs. The doctor claimed that it was just a matter of time. Her body had taken a tremendous, shock, it needed time to heal. She couldn't be impatient.
Easy to say if you weren't the one facing a wheelchair, Gabe thought fiercely. It wasn't right that Charity should suffer like this. It was his mistake, his misjudgment that had put her there. If he'd just shot a split se
cond sooner or later...
"Since I don't plan on going anywhere, I don't see that it matters." Gabe dragged his attention back to the conversation on which he was eavesdropping.
"You can't just shut yourself up in that apartment," Diane protested.
"Well, I'm not likely to be taking any long trips anytime soon," Charity pointed out, her voice beginning to sound a little ragged around the edges.
It was the sound of that stress that brought Gabe into the room. He'd gotten to know her in the past few days. He'd admired her determined cheerfulness even while he wondered what it cost her to smile when she must be screaming with fear and anger inside. He couldn't stand to hear the strain in her voice that said she was close to losing that control.
"Hi. Not interrupting, am I?" Both women turned to look at him as he pushed open the door. The brother wasn't there, he saw at a glance. A man the size of Brian Williams would be a little hard to overlook.
"Gabe." Charity's smile told him she was grateful for the interruption. "I thought you said you wouldn't be able to get in today."
"Well, there was a break I hadn't expected so I thought I'd drop by."
"I'm glad you did. I don't think you know my sister, Diane. Diane, this is Gabriel London."
"Actually, we've met," Gabe said, his eyes meeting Diane's and seeing the uneasiness there.
"You did?" Charity glanced at her sister, surprised that Diane hadn't mentioned meeting Gabe. "When?"
"The night you were brought in," Diane said. "Gabe was in the waiting room. With a friend of his," she added. "A very pretty woman."
Gabe wasn't sure just what the glance she threw Charity was meant to convey, but he didn't want Charity to get the wrong idea about Annie.
"My partner," he said easily. "She and her husband are friends of mine, as well." That should clear up any lingering impression that Annie was more than a friend, he thought. Though why it should seem important, he couldn't have said.
"Oh." The flat syllable could have meant anything, but Gabe had the feeling Diane Williams didn't like hearing that Annie was nothing but a friend, and a married one at that. He could ponder the reasons she might feel that way later.
"I thought I heard you talking about going home," he said to Charity. "Are they releasing you?"
"In a couple of days. There's really no reason for me to stay in the hospital. It's just a matter of waiting now. I can do the physical therapy as an out patient."
"Are you going back to your apartment?"
"She can't. There's about a thousand stairs leading up to her apartment. Maybe you can make her see reason," Diane said, willing to apply to any port in a storm.
"I'm not coming to stay with you," Charity told her, irritated. "The carpets in that apartment are about six inches thick. If I have to learn to use a damned wheelchair, I'm not going to do it on those carpets."
"I'll tear the stupid things up."
"I'm sure your landlord would love that. Besides, quite frankly, a week of living with you and we'd be at each other's throats. I love you dearly, Diane, but you are not my idea of a great roommate."
"I have a cleaning service," Diane said huffily.
"No cleaning service in the world could keep up with you." Charity reached out and caught her older sister's hand. "I really do appreciate the offer, but I need peace and quiet right now and those are not things I associate with you."
Diane looked as if she wanted to argue but couldn't. "Well, fine then. Don't stay with me. But you'll go back to your apartment and shut yourself in like a hermit over my dead body."
"I don't want to be a hermit," Charity said. "But it's the most practical arrangement. When Brian gets back from Europe, he can help me get upstairs and then he can take me to physical therapy a couple of times a week. He might as well use those muscles for something besides lifting barbells."
"I don't like it," Diane said sullenly.
"I don't, either." It was obvious that they'd forgotten Gabe's presence, from the surprised expressions they turned on him.
"Don't you start," Charity wailed in exasperation.
He shrugged. "Sorry. But I don't think it's a good idea. An apartment whose access is only by stairs is dangerous. What if there was a fire?"
"Exactly," Diane said in triumph, glad to have an argument Charity couldn't dismiss.
"Do you have a better idea," Charity asked sarcastically.
"Actually I do. You can move in with me."
Chapter 6
"What?" Charity and Diane spoke simultaneously, giving the word a stereo effect.
"Move in with me," Gabe repeated. "It's the perfect solution."
"I don't see how," Diane said, obviously removing him from her list of allies.
"That's because you haven't seen my place," Gabe said without rancor.
"Gabe, it's awfully nice of you to offer but you don't have to—"
"I know I don't have to," he interrupted. "I want to."
"But-"
"Before you start making objections, let me explain why it would be so ideal."
Charity subsided but her expression remained doubtful. Diane didn't even bother to look that positive. Gabe felt like an insurance salesman pitching a policy to a resistant client.
"I've got a house in Pasadena—a good neighborhood. It's one story, all hardwood floors. There're three bedrooms and two baths so we wouldn't get in each other's way."
"It sounds lovely but I don't—"
"There's also a pool out back that you could use for physical therapy. You wouldn't have to come to the hospital all the time, and my next door neighbor is a doctor," he added as a final incentive.
Diane's expression had gone from total rejection to interest. He could see that she liked the idea of having a doctor next door. Charity didn't look any more convinced than she had when he started.
"It's really nice of you, Gabe," she said. "But there's no reason for you to disarrange your life. My apartment isn't as bad as Diane makes it sound. And if it really won't do, then I can find someplace else."
"Why find someplace else when my place is so close to ideal?"
His hands braced on the foot of her bed, he leaned forward. It was important to him to get her to agree to this. She might say that it wasn't his fault that she still couldn't walk, but he would never believe it. He'd fired the shot that had put her in this hospital bed. There was a fragment of his bullet still inside her.
If he could help her, even in so small a way as giving her a place to stay, it might make it a little easier for him to sleep at night.
"You know, Charity, he could be right," Diane said thoughtfully. Charity gave her sister a surprised look. Wasn't it Diane who'd urged her to be careful about getting involved with Gabe? Seeing Charity's expression, Diane shrugged defensively.
"Well, it seems like a reasonable solution. There's no stairs to worry about and the pool would mean you could probably do more physical therapy than if you had to come into the hospital for it every time."
"I could stay with Brian," Charity suggested desperately, feeling as if a gentle trap was closing around her.
"Brian's place isn't big enough to swing a cat," Diane reminded her. "Besides, his hours are far from normal. He's as likely to be working at three in the morning as he is to be sleeping."
"I don't want to be in your way," Charity said, giving Gabe a pleading look.
"You wouldn't be," he assured her, knowing it wasn't what she wanted to hear. If she stayed with him, he could keep an eye on her, make sure she had everything she needed. Maybe in some small way, he could make up for putting her in here.
Charity looked from Gabe to Diane, seeing her fate already decided in their eyes. Staring down at the outline of her lifeless legs, she wanted to scream and pound her fists against the unresponsive flesh, demand that the feeling come back so that she didn't have to depend on other people.
She wanted to insist on going back to her apartment, her nice, safe little apartment where everything would be familiar and
normal. Only nothing was going to be normal until she could walk again. If she went back to her apartment, Gabe and Diane were both going to worry about her—Brian, too, when he came home. They'd feel obligated to check on her, to make sure she had everything she needed.
She sighed. Realistically she knew they were right. Walling herself up in her apartment wasn't going to make everything right again. And staying with Gabe would give him a chance to ease some of the guilt he shouldn't be feeling in the first place.
"If you're absolutely sure I wouldn't be in your way," she said slowly, lifting her eyes to meet Gabe's. His smile made her heart beat just a little faster than it should, a reminder that this move had some inherent dangers. She was going to have to be careful that while she was regaining the use of her legs she didn't lose her heart.
❧
"I don't know, sugar. You sure this is a good idea?" Annie frowned at Gabe.
"It's a great idea. I've got plenty of room and she needs a place to stay. What could be simpler?"
"You don't think maybe you're carrying this whole guilt thing a bit too far?" she asked, settling into her favorite perch on the corner of his desk.
"She can't walk because of me, Annie."
"Now, don't go getting your dander up, Gabriel." She lifted a soothing hand.
Gabe closed his eyes for a moment and drew a deep breath, forcing the tension out of his shoulders. There was no reason to snap at Annie. She was just concerned about him.
He opened his eyes and gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry."
"That's okay. What good are friends if you can't snap at them now and then?"
"That's an interesting view of friendship," he said, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles.
There were any number of reports sitting on his desk awaiting his attention. In twenty minutes they were supposed to observe a lineup, and in an hour they had to go convince a store owner to testify against a suspect they'd arrested.
At the moment the only thing Gabe could think of was the fact that he was picking Charity up at the hospital this afternoon and taking her back to his house. He'd done everything he could think of to prepare the place for her to manage from the wheelchair.
Charity's Angel Page 6