by Sharon Sala
Finally the bell rang for classes to change and the students left. It was obvious from the quick, sideways glances Gabe got, and the near-silent manner in which the newcomers took their seats, that word had spread swiftly in the halls of the high school.
And when noontime came .and the teachers drifted through the halls on their way to lunch, Annie O'Brien returned the favor by staring down any whispered comments about Gabe's presence and quietly introducing him to what he assumed were some of her friends and co-workers.
If it hadn't been so pathetic he would have laughed. Here he was, for the first time in his life able to experience what ordinary life was all about, and it was too late. For Gabe, it would always be too late.
* * *
The day was nearly over. Gabe sat at the back of the class, silent as a monolith, barely moving, never speaking, yet the entire day, his eyes had rarely drifted from Annie O'Brien.
He knew to the inch exactly how far up the blackboard her arm had to stretch before the fabric of her blouse cupped her breast and faintly outlined the nipple behind the cloth. He also knew that if she was facing the class when she smiled, the slight dimple at the left corner of her mouth wasn't evident. However, if her head was turned just so … and if she was really lost in what she was saying … it darted in and out like a pixie playing hide-and-seek.
He'd watched the sunlight play havoc with the hidden textures and colors of her hair until he'd had to mentally restrain himself from ignoring the fact that there was a classroom full of students watching every move he made. He had never wanted anything in his life as much as he wanted to bury his face in her hair. To inhale the scent of her, to feel her heat and taste the texture of her skin.
He shuddered at the thought and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, stretching his long, jeans-clad legs out in front of him to ease the pressure behind his zipper.
What he'd expected to be unmitigated boredom had turned out to be a treat. He'd read history. Hell, he'd even lived part of what she'd taught earlier in the day. But he'd never expected to fall under the spell of being taught that there was more to it than dates and events. Too much of his life had been wasted just trying to survive, and when that had failed, the rest of it had been—and was being—spent on doing what he'd been sent back to do.
Ancient history seemed to be her favorite class. Sixth period and the Trojan War brought her to life. He, along with the students, began to visualize the great, wooden horse slowly being rolled to the gates of Troy.
He smiled along with them as Annie related how the Greeks remaining outside must have waited impatiently for the soldiers encased within the bowels of the gift horse to climb out, drawing a picture with her words of how they'd emerged during the black of night and opened the great gate so that the Greek soldiers could come inside and conquer
The great devastation of the siege that followed was presented as if she'd actually been there. Gabe wasn't the only one to be jerked rudely back to the present when the bell rang for classes to change.
"So the next time someone tells you, 'Don't look a gift horse in the mouth,' you'll know exactly what they mean." And then she added, "Don't forget that you have to finish reading The Iliad by Friday. It will be part of your final exam."
She laughed at their dismayed objections and took their good-natured grumbling as it was meant. One of the girls even paused on her way out the door to whisper something to Annie, and then ducked her head when Annie impulsively laughed and hugged her before shooing her out.
But Gabe was oblivious to the students' groans on the subject of finals. He was too busy trying to get past the realization of his own devastation as he watched Annie hug the teenage girl.
He was jealous. He wanted her to smile at him and share whispered nothings in his ear. And as he looked past the thought to the emotion behind it, he decided that he'd finally lost his mind.
He'd heard of the phenomenon, but mistakenly imagined that it only befell little boys. But Gabriel Donner had been mistaken. Regardless of his age and the reason for his presence, he'd only spent one day in a classroom and already he'd fallen for the teacher.
In sudden panic, he grabbed his sunglasses from his pocket, slid them quickly onto his nose and glared through their darkened lenses, daring anyone to see through the mirrored reflection to the truth behind.
He couldn't be in love. For Gabriel Donner there was no future in loving. His future had ended the day the rope tightened around his neck. And regardless of the fact that he'd been returned intact to the earth on which he'd been born, for him, a future no longer existed. Only time … a waiting period that was soon coming to an end.
Annie gathered up the papers from her desk, sighing as she lifted the stack that would have to be graded tonight.
"Let me," Gabe said, and took them from her arms before she could object. "You did all the work today," he said by way of explanation, and stood aside for her to precede him from the room.
"Another day, another dollar," Annie said, and gave him a weary smile that made him stumble in his tracks.
Luckily for him she didn't notice him falter. She was too busy focusing on the two men standing at the end of the hallway.
"Oh, great," she muttered.
Gabe looked up, expecting to see Damon Tuttle and some of his friends. Instead, he recognized Allen Baker, the school administrator, but he didn't know the other man.
"Annie?"
The question in his voice stopped her progress, and she turned to face him. If he hadn't known Annie's fighting nature, he might have imagined he saw tears in her eyes. But that couldn't be. After facing down a gang of toughs and calmly dealing with the fact that her car had been demolished, surely two well-dressed men wouldn't be what it took to bring her down.
"It's the school superintendent," she said. "He's everyone's boss."
"Not mine," Gabe said quietly, and offered his elbow as they started down the hall.
Annie took a deep breath. It was odd what strength she'd gained from Gabe's two small words.
"Miss O'Brien." Censure was thick in Millard Penny's voice.
"Mr. Penny."
Annie stood steadfast, unwilling to give an inch. And with Gabe by her side, it was incredibly simple, after all.
"I don't like what I've been hearing," Millard Penny said, glaring at Gabe.
"I can imagine," Gabe answered, surprising everyone, including Annie, with his interruption. "What startled you most?" he asked. "The fact that one of your teachers was being assaulted and sexually harassed on a day-to-day basis … or the fact that Baker here chose to ignore it?"
Allen Baker stiffened, as if someone had just shoved a hot poker up his rear. Annie stifled a grin, and slid one step closer to Gabriel as he continued.
"As I'm sure you've already realized, or you wouldn't be here, the media would have a field day with that information, wouldn't they?" Gabe asked.
He paused while Millard Penny digested his announcement, then grinned engagingly, tossing the problem right back in the superintendent's lap with his next remark. "What exactly did you have in mind? I can assure you, as Miss O'Brien's bodyguard, I'm willing to work in conjunction with any other security you authorize."
Penny was speechless.
And then Gabe's smile disappeared, and his eyes grew stormy. "However, you do realize that I am not budging from her side until she, and she alone, decides to dismiss me. I take my work seriously … very seriously."
Millard Penny stared. First at Annie, then at Allen Baker, then back at Gabriel. He wiped his hand across his face, dislodging the jowls hanging over his too-tight collar far enough that his chin quivered as he answered.
"I can see that this incident is going to take further study." He glared at Baker as if suddenly willing to lay the blame for the entire mess at his feet. "And as far as my teachers' security goes, you can rest assured that that is always uppermost in my mind."
"Thank you, Mr. Penny," Annie said. "I'm glad you've recognized my side of the problem." She
stared pointedly at Allen Baker, then looked up at Gabriel.
He saw her determination being replaced with exhaustion.
It was that moment when he knew that as long as Annie O'Brien had a fight that needed to be fought, he was her man. Like it or not, love be damned, she needed him. And it felt good … real good.
Gabe handed her his helmet. "Put this on, Annie. We're going home."
They left the two men arguing in the hall.
* * *
Chapter 3
«^»
After the hectic day and the constant state of defense in which they'd spent it, the apartment was a welcome haven. Gabe was beginning to understand Annie's love of plants. They were something alive with which she could share her space, and they didn't talk back.
Annie's face was pale, the tension lines around her mouth deep and drawn.
"You look beat. Why don't you take a nap?" Gabe suggested as he set the papers to be graded down on the kitchen table.
She gestured toward the stack and tried to smile, but a muscle jerked at the back of her neck, reminding her that the headache she'd been trying to ignore all day was about to take over.
"Maybe I will lie down for a minute," she said. "But I don't have time to sleep." Her lip trembled, and she looked everywhere but at Gabe. "Not yet. Not this soon."
He looked down at his watch. "At least rest until I get back. I've got an errand to run."
She shrugged and handed him her keys. "You'll need to get back in," she said, stumbling toward her bedroom as the pain at the back of her neck overwhelmed her.
Gabe looked at the keys and frowned. He couldn't understand her apparent lack of concern regarding his presence. She treated him as if she'd known him all her life. It just didn't make sense.
And as for her headache, he'd seen others like it before. He stuffed her keys in his pocket and followed her, afraid she was going to need help getting where she was going. He was right. He caught her as she staggered.
"Annie, are you all right?"
Uncertainty filled him as her head lolled against his shoulder. Only hours earlier she'd been ready to fight tigers … and Damon Tuttle. Now she couldn't even get herself to bed.
"I stubbed my toe," she mumbled, unwilling to admit how weak she felt, and covered her ears with her hands, dreading the sound of her own voice. "My head hurts."
"I know, Annie." he said softly. "I know."
Without a word, Gabe lifted her into his arms and carried her to her bed. Her face was a contorted mixture of misery and embarrassment as she struggled to help herself.
"Let me," Gabe said, and pulled off her shoes. "Got anything for the pain?" he asked, as he entered her bathroom and began shuffling through the shelves of her medicine cabinet.
"Brown bottle … bottom shelf," she mumbled, then groaned as the words vibrated against her eardrums.
Gabe picked up the bottle and frowned. Prescription medicine. No over-the-counter stuff for Annie. He read the label and frowned again. Strong prescription medicine. He hoped she wasn't hooked on the stuff. She wouldn't have been the first to get unintentionally addicted.
He filled a glass with water, then carried it and the bottle back to Annie's bed. The mattress gave beneath his weight, rolling her gently against his thigh as he scooted close beside her.
"Open," he ordered, and slipped the prescribed dosage between her lips. By that time her teeth were chattering from the tension, and a few drops of water slid out the corner of her mouth as he tilted the glass.
She swallowed, then dropped back onto the pillow with a groan, unaware of Gabe's fingers gently blotting the trickle of water before it stained her blue silk shirt.
He swallowed harshly as his hand touched her skin. Just as before, her body was satin to his touch. As her eyelids fluttered between the daylight and dusk hovering at the back of her mind, he cradled the side of her cheek, absently testing the pulse at the base of her neck. It was racing.
Gabe leaned back, smoothing her tousled hair away from her forehead, and felt tiny beads of sweat across her brow. Something was wrong. He hoped to God she wasn't getting sick. He knew even less about healing than he did about school, but today it seemed as if he was about to get a dose of both.
She sighed as blessed sleep claimed her, missing the tender touch of his hand and the fire that kindled in his eyes as he leaned down and kissed the curve of her cheek.
"Just rest, Annie. Rest," he whispered. "I'll be back."
* * *
Annie opened her eyes. The glow from the streetlights coming through the slats in her blinds told her that it was dark. Where had the evening gone? Then she remembered the headache and vague impressions of being put to bed like a child. She bolted up as if she'd been shot and raced out of her room and across the hall, half expecting to see that a big man and his duffel bag bad gone missing. She was right.
"Oh, no," she groaned, and ran toward the living room, afraid of what she would find next. What she didn't expect was to hear the hum of her washer and dryer in the alcove off the kitchen, or the smell of warm pizza drifting in the air.
"I saved you some pizza," Gabe muttered, pointing toward a half-open cardboard box. "It's a good thing you woke up. I've graded as far as I can go. I was never much good at stuff like this, but I can at least follow your key."
He waved her answer sheet in the air, then leaned back and grinned.
Annie stared. This was the last thing she'd expected to see. He was grading her papers … and he wasn't wearing enough clothes for her peace of mind. And then she remembered the pizza.
"You bought food?"
He nodded.
"I'm sorry," she muttered, running a shaky hand through her tousled hair. "You're spending your money on me, and we haven't even discussed salary."
Gabe noticed the nervous way she kept glancing at him, then remembered his disheveled state and grinned.
"Sorry about my, uh…" He waved toward his near-bare body and shrugged, as if to say be had no choice. "I'm doing laundry."
His grin told her that he was obviously lying. He wasn't sorry about a thing, and Annie knew it.
"What exactly is that you're wearing?" she asked, trying not to stare at all that expanse of tanned body and hard muscle.
"Your tablecloth. It was the only thing big enough to wrap around me. I don't think flowers do much for my manliness, but…" He shrugged and waved toward his makeshift sarong to make his point.
He could have saved himself the trouble. It was impossible to ignore his manliness … any of it. Annie tried not to stare in the direction the sweet-pea-and-ivy print was climbing, but she couldn't help noticing that it had climbed right up his leg and wrapped itself around his…
"Supreme," he said.
You certainly are, Annie thought, and then jumped as her own thoughts reminded her that she was losing control.
"What?"
"The pizza," he said, pointing toward the box again. "I got supreme. And you'll have to grade this stack," he said, as he shoved the papers toward her.
"I can't believe you did that, but thanks," she said, pointing toward the papers; and then took a bite of pizza. She muttered a near-silent curse as a string of cheese fell onto the edge of her collar.
Gabe stood up. And as he came toward her, bells and buzzers began to sound. Annie's eyes widened. So much man in so little fabric.
Fear interceded as she watched him coming closer and closer. She began backing up, until the kitchen wall halted her flight and left her helpless and pinned, the slice of pizza clutched tightly in her hand.
Without saying a word, Gabe reached out, lifted the string of cheese from her collar and dangled it in front of her lips. Stunned by the unexpected action, Annie opened her mouth like a baby bird as Gabe dropped the cheese inside.
Her heartbeat rode her racing pulse like a winded jockey as she watched him, certain that he was about to eat her … or her pizza, whichever came first. He did neither.
Instead, he gently moved her aside
and opened the door behind her. It was then that she realized why she'd been hearing bells and buzzers. The washer and dryer had finished their cycles simultaneously. He was merely getting his clean clothes out of the laundry.
"Why don't you sit down to eat, Annie?" he asked. "You need all the rest you can get. I never realized that teaching could be such a headache."
He grinned at his own wit as he disappeared down the hall in a swath of sweet peas and ivy. He returned a moment later, dragging long-legged blue jeans along the carpet, with a handful of white cotton briefs clutched against his chest.
"I am going to sit down to eat," Annie said unnecessarily, and plopped down in the chair he'd just vacated.
The chair was still warm from his body, and the suggestion it sent drifting into her mind had her out of it in seconds and into the one on the opposite side. She'd had all the excitement she could take for one day. Thinking about big bikers and their warm behinds did nothing for her peace of mind.
* * *
The evening passed without further upheaval, as did the next few days. One week turned into two, and then, before she knew it, they'd actually developed a routine of living together that was almost comfortable.
It was his proper, almost blasé attitude and her own casual acceptance of his presence in her life that—most of the time—made her forget how truly male he was. But she was reminded all too vividly one weekend when she looked up from the chair in which she was sitting to see him burst through the door, half naked and mad as hell.
"Where is your shirt?" It was the first thing that came to mind, but Annie knew the moment she'd asked that it was the worst question she could have asked.
Gabe grinned, but not with humor. He stalked past her and continued down the hallway toward his room without answering.
Annie got up from her chair, pulling absently at her white T-shirt and shorts to straighten them as she followed. It was then that she saw the small path of blood splattered on the floor in his wake and felt a moment of panic as she realized that it had to be Gabe who was bleeding.