Gabriel's Gift

by London, Cait

  She almost smiled at the hurried way he swished the towel around her, as if she were his prize to carry off, to claim. Just once he searched her expression. “This is your mother’s house,” he noted unevenly. “I would not want to dishonor Anna.”

  “She would want you here—with me.”

  He lightly tugged a damp strand of her hair. His words were an uneven mix of whimsy and need, as though he had dreamed of her. “I had hoped you would be waiting in my bed.”

  “I’m not a woman to wait, Gabriel. Especially not now,” she whispered and locked her arms around his shoulders. He was warm and safe and strong against her. She’d been terrified for him, afraid that this time the cougar’s fangs would find that muscled throat, tearing—

  “You need me.” The tone was arrogant, masculine and pleased, and Gabriel’s grin teased her. Then that dark, fierce hunger coursed through his expression, his arms tugging her close. In the next heartbeat, Gabriel dived in to take—just as she wanted.

  Whatever instinct that caused Gabriel to come straight to her, to need her to soothe him, Miranda rejoiced in the truth of that wonder. She reveled in how his hands roamed over her, shaking and possessing as they caressed. She met the fierce hunger of his mouth, fused to hers, slanting for a tighter fit, tongues playing, suckling. Suddenly he lifted her higher, her toes inches off the floor as he carried her, kissing her all the while, back to her bed.

  Fire and flash, skin burning, Gabriel came down upon her. There was that hard hunter’s look as he studied her, his hands possessing her, tormenting her. She did not fear that look, but reveled in it. Shaking with passion, she lifted to kiss his throat, to taste that dark, mysterious exotic skin. He inhaled roughly as she bit him gently, kissing the small wound. When she caught that flat nipple in her lips, tugging at it, Gabriel let out a muffled shout, jerking fractionally away from her.

  In the shadows, his narrowed eyes burned at her as she arched beneath him. Gabriel’s trembling hand slid down her hip, then to her thigh, stroking her. “You’re a furnace, sweet Miranda.”

  She smoothed his long, powerful back, his firm buttocks and slid him a look. She loved being desired, flirting a bit, a game she’d never played. “Miss me, did you?”

  Gabriel nuzzled her neck, her ears, her forehead and nibbled at her ears. He rubbed his chest side to side, looking as if he were luxuriating in the softness of her breasts, the hardened nipples etching his skin. There was that quick, hot look down at their bodies as if the sight gave him unexpected delight. “I feared for my backside every step.”

  She laughed at that, a wild, free joy soaring through her. Above her, Gabriel was too still, watching her and when the laughter faded, she met his hunger, his body coming sleekly into her keeping. The pounding hunger rose quickly, once, twice and Gabriel held her poised, tormenting her as the riveting pleasure tore her apart. “Beast,” she whispered shakily, her heart pounding violently.

  He moved slowly then, surely, fulfilling them both and leaving her limp and breathless within his arms. His mouth leisurely roamed her breasts, then he turned her to her stomach, kissing a trail down to the small of her back. She tensed as those white teeth nipped her bottom lightly, playfully. Then he moved to cover her, his face pressed into her throat, his lips tantalizing. “I think it is you who missed me.”

  “Smug, arrogant—”

  Then Gabriel turned her again and this time the taking was sweeter, almost dreamlike, until he rested gently upon her. She listened to the night and to her heart, and smiled, for this time, Gabriel could not deny whatever burned between them. He hadn’t argued about what was best for her, or made any choices other than following his instincts. She kissed his forehead and smoothed that wonderful back, and wondered how his child would look, lying as closely to her breast.

  In the morning, Miranda stood fully dressed in her business slacks suit, studying the man in her bed. Clearly exhausted from his hunt and from the lovemaking throughout the night, Gabriel slept heavily. The flower print of her sheets and pillowcases only emphasized the dark power of his body, those rippling muscles as he sprawled. She couldn’t resist bending to kiss the small of his back, admiring the cords and muscles that quivered from the light touch.

  He’d come to her, not taking time to control his need to see her. That gift alone was enough to cause her to smile all the way to Noah Douglas’s Investment Service office.

  Later that morning, Gabriel stiffened as Koby Austin walked along beside him on Freedom’s unique historical street, lined with two-story buildings. Koby sniffed the air. “Smells like spring flowers or a woman’s shampoo—uh, oh, that’s you, isn’t it, Old Shot in the Butt.”

  Gabriel’s dark look caused Koby to grin. “A legend in your own time. Shot by the woman who is courting you. Helpless as a baby—Okay, I see you’re not exactly happy this morning.”

  When Koby strolled down to the Wagon Wheel for his morning coffee break, Gabriel glanced at the men on the street. Every one of them grinned back at him. Apparently the whole town knew of Miranda’s ill-fated shot. Koby was right, Gabriel wasn’t in a good mood. When he’d awakened, he’d expected Miranda to…his expectations were wrong. Tanner had explained that Miranda had taken two part-time jobs and her pickup was now parked beside Noah Douglas’s sleek black Mercedes. John Lachlan at the bank was her other employer. Gabriel frowned, uncomfortable with his dark, surly mood. Both men were known wife-hunters and Miranda would be a match to either one.

  He entered the feed store, and filled a small sack with beans for the garden she had tilled. He studied the bag and knew that Miranda could have her own garden at Anna’s. Which would she choose? Would she come back to him?

  Gabriel rubbed his jaw, considering the bins of seeds. He had not taken time to plant a garden, but then he hadn’t had a woman to please, either. In quick order, he filled other sacks with lettuce, corn and squash. He glanced at the sticks that would become berries and thought of how Miranda enjoyed serving homemade wine, remembering her mother’s recipes for jams. He added those to his purchase and John, the clerk, looked over his glasses at Gabriel. “Doing a little spring shopping before going hunting, are you? I see you’re wearing those moccasins and you’ve got that sharp, eagle-eyed look as when you were tracking that renegade bear. Heard you got that cougar, and those photographers passing through town said the pictures of you tangling with it were going to be in the magazines. Reckon even celebrities take time to make spring gardens. You’ve never been in here buying seed before. It’s a first garden for you, is it? Say, you never answered me. Are you going on another hunt?”

  Gabriel thought of the woman he needed to see this morning, and nodded, then exited the feed store. He could have cooked her breakfast, tried for less head-on, demanding, possessive lover technique, immediately bedding her. Even a stallion might nuzzle a mare before mating…. He wanted to be affectionate, dammit. He opened the door to the office and removed his Western hat, holding it in one hand and his other arm filled with the sack of his feed store purchases.

  Miranda stood next to Noah as they studied the paperwork columns on an ultramodern desk. Gabriel froze; they looked so much in tune, Miranda suiting the upscale look of Noah, her gray slacks suit expensive and fluid as she straightened. Her watch was slim and practical as was the dainty beaded chain around her throat. Her gray pumps said she liked comfort as she worked, the cream silk blouse completing the picture of a businesswoman not often seen in Freedom Valley. Her bright look, that rosy flush, reminded him of the passion they’d shared as he braced himself to—To do what? It was her right to choose her life, not his.

  Would her former lover come for her? Would she take him again?

  “Gabriel,” Noah murmured, his gray eyes taking in Gabriel’s clothing, his tracking moccasins, and the way his fist gripped his hat.

  “Noah.” Gabriel wished he had changed; Noah’s three-piece suit was classy and expensive. His hands weren’t rough and callused, and his financial resources were enough to buy Miranda an
ything she wanted. Gabriel’s fingers tightened on the paper sack and it rustled slightly. Miranda seemed like a creature from another world—sleek, modern, efficient—moving toward him. He was stunned by her kiss as she stood on tiptoe, her hand curving behind his head to draw his lips down to hers.

  Gabriel trembled, shocked that she would exhibit such affection so openly. Her lips burned his and—Had he imagined that playful nip of her teeth? His heart leaped, bursting with pleasure, and when she drew away, he resisted the urge to pack her over his shoulder and take her home where she belonged. He pushed back that old-fashioned instinct to claim her, for he would have to learn new ways if he was to keep her, to please her. “You’ll wait for me, won’t you, Gabriel? I’ll be just a little bit longer here and then I’d like to buy you lunch, if you have time?”

  Time? He’d already waited a lifetime. Yet the custom of the woman to provide for him rankled. “I have time,” he said, and eased into a chair in the waiting area.

  She is a warrior, he thought, watching Miranda punch keys on her laptop, showing the results to Noah. A printer began to purr, spitting out paper, and Miranda whipped the list from the machine, studying it. She quickly circled items, recalculated the statistics and showed the results to Noah. Gabriel sucked in his breath as Noah bent over her desk, nodding as she showed him the results of her study. “You’ve done it. You’ve pinpointed the best balanced retirement fund mix that I can offer my farming and ranching clients. Make this a full-time job, Miranda, and you can name your price.”

  Noah hugged her briefly, took one look at Gabriel and cleared his throat. “I’ll just take these back to the office and study them.”

  After he had gone, Miranda tugged up her suit sleeve, glanced at her watch and smiled. “Time for lunch. Ready, Gabriel?”

  She frowned at the blond man entering the glass doors, careful of the huge wrapped presents he carried, topped by a toy panda bear. Dressed in a stylish black leather jacket, his crisp waving hair was neatly trimmed, his black sweater and flowing black pants were obviously tailored and expensive. His loafers were “city” and highly polished. He moved toward her, smiling warmly, clearly at home in the office setting.

  “Scott,” Miranda murmured softly, and Gabriel tensed at her tone. This was her former lover, a man who propped his designer sunglasses above his head. Gabriel noted the sleek red sports car parked outside.

  At last, the father of her child had come to make amends. Gabriel breathed quietly, aware of Miranda’s flush as she glanced at him. Rough and wearing his hunting clothing, he must look shabby in comparison to the well-groomed man she had loved, arms brimming with presents. The sack Gabriel held rustled—his gift to her of garden seeds and blackberry starts.

  As they stood together, Miranda and the man, Gabriel thought that they were a matched pair—stylish, businesslike, expensive.

  Then she stared at the gifts, the reminder of her lost baby obviously sharp and painful, the man’s voice was smooth and cultured as he talked to her. Though the words were indistinct, the plea was there, a man trying to recover a treasure he had tossed away. Gabriel noted the pale color of her cheeks, the way her fingers gripped the toy bear, her expression rigid. She shook her head, her mouth moving, but the office was silent.

  Gabriel could feel her pain—leaping within her, tearing at her. He hadn’t realized he was standing, moving toward her to protect her.

  “It’s my baby. I want to see it. You can’t deny me that,” Scott was saying. “Look, Miranda. I made a terrible mistake. My mother and dad want to know their grandchild. We’ll work this out—”

  “Will we?” Miranda’s voice was hard, cutting through the shadows. “You’re a little late, Scott. I lost the baby.”

  “You deliberately—” Scott swung to look at Gabriel, taking in his rough appearance. “Who’s this?”

  Gabriel smiled tightly and placed his sack on the floor. He stood slowly, and Miranda’s eyes widened at the cold, silent threat. “You’re not in this, Gabriel. I’ll handle—”

  “Am I not?” Gabriel’s words were spaced and extremely careful.

  “You don’t waste any time, do you, Miranda?” Scott asked harshly. “Was it really my baby? Or his?”

  Five seconds later, Scott stormed out of the glass doors, taking the presents with him. His red sports car roared out of Freedom.

  Noah leaned against the wall, his arms folded, and grinned at Gabriel. “Well, that was something you don’t see every day—Miranda slugging a man.”

  Gabriel grinned back as Miranda paced back and forth, muttering to herself, gesturing wildly with her hands. “True.”

  “She’s got a mean right cross,” Noah said. “I’d remember that, if I were you, Gabriel.”

  “I…am…a logical person, a lady, and…I have never, ever hit anyone like that before,” Miranda said, shaking her head as if to clear it. Her hand trembled as she stared at it. “To think that he would have the nerve—”

  Noah chuckled. “I bet he won’t again, whatever he did.”

  “Men!” Miranda continued to pace and mutter and then glared at Gabriel. “I was only defending you. He could have hurt you.”

  At that Noah roared with laughter, doubling over. Miranda turned like a gunfighter, eyeing him and Noah blinked, his laughter dying. “What did I do?”

  She frowned at Gabriel and took his jacket in both her fists, trying to shake him. “Don’t say one word. And do not tell Kylie or Tanner about this. Do not tell anyone. I can’t believe I—Uh!”

  “Sometimes you talk too much,” Gabriel said as he patted the soft backside draped over his shoulder. He took the sack Noah placed into his free arm and strolled through the open door, carrying Miranda.

  On the street, Gabriel placed her on her feet, let her straighten her clothing and search furiously for words. Then he took her hand and drew it to his lips, sucking her fingers one by one as she stared, stunned, at him. “Thank you for defending me,” he said softly and tried to smother his grin.

  “Arrogant, hardheaded, muscle-bound—You can’t just pick me up and tote me down half a block, saying ‘Nice day, isn’t it?’ to anyone you meet, and—” Miranda paused, licked her lips and the look she gave him all the way down and all the way up caused his blood to heat. In his mind, he saw her nestled beside him, her body pale against his. He saw her laughing up at him, the wind tossing her hair, her cheeks rosy. Miranda shivered and said, “If you keep looking at me like that, we won’t make it to lunch. I’ll have to cancel my afternoon job at John’s bank.”

  “You like working with numbers, don’t you? It’s a game for you, isn’t it?”

  “I do…yes. But there are other things I enjoy, too. Something I do not enjoy is having you look at me in an office and watching your thoughts cross your face. You think I’m leaving, don’t you? That I’m off to some fictitious high-paying job, some penthouse, some world without you.”

  “It is not for me to say,” he stated carefully, because she had captured his thoughts too perfectly. He wasn’t certain he liked her ability to interpret his expressions, especially when he thought he had them hidden. “But I would come to you, my woman, my heart.”

  “You can say the loveliest things,” she whispered, studying him with that sultry look that said she, too, remembered their passion.

  At the Wagon Wheel Café, Gabriel nodded at Fidelity who was stealthily considering Luigi as he circled Willa. “I see you two are working at this relationship. Five points, Gabriel. I saw how you squired Miranda down the street and held her hand. I worried about the lack of affection—those little demonstrative hugs and looks that are unique to people in love.”

  “It is for Miranda that I allow myself to be courted,” Gabriel said stiffly, ill at ease with the thought that she would be paying for his meal.

  “Of course. You are endearing yourself to all the Women of the Council by the way you are allowing her to set the rules. We had thought that you might be difficult in accepting our traditions. You’re very old-f
ashioned in your way, too.”

  “I may change the rules, but it does not mean that they are less honored,” Gabriel warned softly, and was unprepared for Fidelity’s delighted chuckle.

  “But of course,” she said as if she had expected him to challenge the Founding Mothers’ traditions.

  When they were seated in a booth, Gabriel placed the feed store sack on the seat beside him. He stiffened when Miranda’s foot slid up his leg and her toes rested intimately on his thigh. He reached for her foot, caressing it. “Having fun?”

  She grinned and his heart leaped again, filled with sunshine. “More than you know. What’s in the sack?”

  “Beans…corn…blackberry starts…for you.” He was embarrassed that he had not brought a gift more suiting a lover.

  “For me?” Miranda’s delighted tone caused Gabriel to relax slightly. “How did you know? Oh, I…” She stood slightly, bent over the booth and reached for him. Her kiss left Gabriel shaking and dazed. He leaned back in the booth, tried to breathe and tried to stop from glowing as Miranda carefully unpacked the small sacks from the large one, lining them up on the booth’s table.

  “This morning, I emptied the rest of your mother’s jars and washed them.”

  Her eyes were shimmering with tears. “You knew how difficult that was for us, how much we missed her.”

  “It was a small thing to do.”

  “No, it wasn’t. It was very, very thoughtful. Mother’s jars were so special to her. She took great care with them. Some of them came from her mother. I missed canning with her, filling those jars. Every cucumber had to be standing upright, matched in size, for dill pickles, the bread and butter sweet pickles sliced exactly right. A handful of less than ripe strawberries added to the jam mix, to keep the taste more fresh. Green beans had to be snapped just so. Nothing was wasted, even the green tomatoes were pickled before the frost came. She had such a hard financial time after Dad died. But she raised us without a complaint.”