by Sharon Sala
"You do not go without me," he ordered, and disappeared.
Annie sighed. She should have known he would be like this. She kicked her toe furiously into the plush gray carpet and then winced when a small pain shot up her leg. How could she have known that hiring a solitary man like Gabriel Donner would become so complicated? Why did he have to come into her life when it was too late to matter?
A yellow cab pulled up into the parking lot of the apartment and honked. Annie looked out the window and then went to get her purse. She would only warn him once. If he missed the ride, it wouldn't be her fault.
"Cab's here," she said, barely loud enough for him to hear, and started out the door with her purse strap slung over her shoulder.
"Got your keys?" Gabe asked as he grasped the door at a point just above her head.
She swiveled around and glared, and then dug into her purse to check. She pulled them out and slapped them into his outstretched hand, then walked away, leaving him to shut and lock the door.
She was already in the cab when Gabe came sauntering down the walkway as if he had all the time in the world. For a big man, he moved with unusual grace. Annie tried not to stare, but it was impossible. She knew only too well how much man there was inside that denim. And in honor of the day, he'd unearthed a near-white shirt and a soft brown leather bomber jacket she'd never seen him wear.
She knew his entrance was going to make a quiet commotion in church, but there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. And then later, after they'd arrived and Gabe slid into the seat beside her and quietly clasped her hand, she knew that she wouldn't have changed a thing about him if she could.
* * *
Night slid across the horizon with little fuss. A car horn sounded from the parking lot as an impatient driver tried to hurry a dawdling friend. Gabriel set the last clean glass in the cabinet and then turned. The kitchen was clean. The leftovers had been covered and stored. The evening meal had come and gone with little more than polite conversation.
He sighed and slapped the dish towel down on the counter and went in search of Annie. She'd left nearly half an hour earlier to take a phone call, and she'd never come back.
The door to her room was slightly ajar. He pushed it aside and then stood in the doorway, frowning at the small lump she'd made of herself in the middle of her bed.
Curled knees to chin, her arms hugging herself to keep from coming undone. Annie lay wide-eyed and quiet, staring without bunking at the opposite wall.
Gabe inhaled sharply. A sick feeling came and went in the middle of his stomach, although there was no obvious reason for his uneasiness. A person had a right to quiet times. He could accept that. But the memory of her fixed attention during the church service that morning, and the near-panic he'd seen more than once in her eyes as she'd listened intently to the sermon, made him wonder. He was certainly no expert on religion. But the last time he'd checked, people weren't supposed to be afraid of it.
"Annie, are you all right?"
She jerked as if she'd been shot, unwound herself and sprang from the bed.
"I'm fine," she said, and turned away to smooth the wrinkles she'd made in the spread.
"Who was on the phone?" he asked, determined to get to the bottom of her withdrawal.
She shrugged. "A policeman. He called to tell me that Damon Tuttle made bail."
A rich chorus of unusually descriptive curses fell from Gabriel's lips. Annie turned and smiled at him in spite of herself.
"It's no big deal," she said. "Besides … I don't think it's humanly possible to do what you just suggested."
Gabriel glared. "If that punk comes anywhere near you again, I'll show you—and him—what a little imagination can accomplish."
"It doesn't matter," Annie said. "In two days school will be over. After that, it's immaterial what happens."
Gabriel covered the distance between them in two strides and took her by the shoulders.
"I don't get it," he growled. "Why the apathy, Annie? For weeks you've acted like all that matters is finishing the damned school year, and now you don't care about anything … not even saving your own hide."
She yanked herself out of his grasp and turned away, unwilling to look at him when she answered.
"School matters … at least to me. Besides," she said, and bit her lower lip to keep from crying, "this time next week you'll be long gone and I'll be forgotten. Right?"
Tears blurred her vision as she pulled aside the curtain in her bedroom and looked out into the street. Cars sailed by on a river of asphalt, honking horns in warning, like buoys bobbing in a sea of darkness, to let other drivers know they were passing.
Gabe slid his arms around her and pulled her hard against him until her shoulder blades dug into his chest in mute objection. He rested his chin at the crown of her head and closed his eyes against the pain.
Now it comes, he thought. Here's where she begins to blame me for making love to her without promises. "Is that what's wrong, Annie? Are you mad at me because I didn't say I … because I can't promise that we'll…"
She laughed and spun in his arms. He saw the sheen of tears in her eyes and felt like a heel.
"Lord, no!" she said, and threw her arms around his neck. "You are what you are, Gabriel Donner. I wouldn't want to change you … even if I could."
He let himself absorb the feel of her body against him, tried to ignore the dampness on her cheeks as she lifted her face for his kiss, and knew that she was lying. And as he took advantage of what she offered, he hated himself for not being able to call her hand.
* * *
The bell rang. At that same instant, the entire classroom full of students erupted into a shout of gladness. School was out!
Gabe stood at the back of the room and grinned, watching as the bulk of the class headed for the door in a single motion. They were a mass of humanity on the move. The noise level was just below painful as desks scooted and students shouted playfully back and forth to one another while continuing toward the exit.
Annie fielded comments and accepted the customary token gifts from several students, while waving goodbye to others.
Gabe moved toward her with a single intent. The worry lines around her mouth had deepened during the past two days, and try as he might to assure her that Damon Tuttle would threaten her no more, he felt he'd been unsuccessful. Surely, now that the students were gone and her responsibilities would soon end, she could relax.
Although her students had become accustomed to his presence, a few that had lingered behind slipped aside as he moved down the aisle, giving him the wide berth that his icy demeanor demanded.
Gabe sauntered past her desk on his way to the window, gazing absently toward the parking lot and wondering where he went from here. Leaving seemed inevitable … and impossible.
Bits and pieces of Annie's conversations with her students floated through the air above the noise, and then suddenly he homed in on a conversation that sent him spinning toward her in shock.
"Oh, Miss O'Brien, my little sister is so excited," one of the students was saying. "She's going to be in your class next year. I told her you were the best. She can hardy wait."
Annie's expression froze. The smile on her face never wavered. But the light in her eyes went out as certainly as if someone had taken a gun and blasted it away.
"That's quite a compliment," Annie said. "But I'm afraid your sister will have to take history from someone else. I won't be here next year."
"But why? You can't leave! It just won't be the same without you," the student cried.
Annie's chin quivered. It was all Gabe needed to see.
"What's left to do here?" he asked, his deep voice breaking into the round of complaints.
Annie shook her head without answering and started needlessly sorting papers on her desk as the last of the students drifted away, murmuring to themselves about the loss of a favorite teacher. And then they were alone.
"You didn't tell me you were going to
quit."
The accusation hung in the air between them. Annie looked up, her face full of anger, her words sharp, cutting the distance between them in short, staccato bursts.
"My contract was with the school district, not you didn't have to tell you anything. You're leaving remember?"
Gabe slapped the desk with the flat of his hand, and Annie had to force herself not to jump backward in response to the fury in his voice.
"Why, Miss O'Brien! Is that you I hear sounding so bitter … and resentful … and just possibly mad as hell? I guess you needed promises, after all." Gabe's words stung as his drawl ate into her conscience. "Why am I not surprised?"
Annie couldn't look him in the face. After all he'd done for her, she'd been reduced to lying to keep from begging him to stay. The echo of his harsh laughter was all he left behind as he walked out of the room, slamming the door after him.
She sank into her chair, crossed her arms on the desk and buried her face in them, unable to deal with what she had done. But it was her only option. She'd already faced that and the other facts bearing down on her with ominous persistence.
A dry sob burned her throat, but she refused to let it out. An old rhyme from her childhood floated to the surface of her memory, and she found herself muttering, "If wishes were horses then beggars would ride."
But no one was there to question the insanity of the comment or wonder why Miss O'Brien, who taught history on the south side of Oklahoma City, was taking out the contents of her desk drawers and methodically throwing them into the trash.
Nearly an hour later Annie left her classroom, refusing to admit that it was for the last time, and walked into the hallway, expecting to make the long walk to the front door alone.
Her heart skipped a beat as Gabe shoved himself away from the edge of a locker and fell into step beside her without speaking. A small catch in her breathing was all the notice she gave as he reached out and took her by the hand.
"Come on, Annie Laurie. Do what you have to do and then brace yourself. Tonight I'm taking you out."
She couldn't have been more shocked if he'd told her that he was getting a haircut and buying a three-piece suit. "But…"
He frowned and pointed toward the principal's office, where a gaggle of teachers was gathering.
"Go on … do your thing, teacher. When you're through, I'll be waiting."
Annie couldn't watch him leave. She was too focused on not crying in front of the others as the words "I'll be waiting" echoed inside her head and then settled into a hard lump in the center of her heart.
Oh dear God, Annie thought. Why now? Why did you do this to me now, when you know how futile it is?
But there was no answer, and, for Annie, no hope. She moved into line, smiling and nodding, thankful that most of the other teachers were unaware of her decision not to return. It saved her the anguish of making excuses she didn't have.
* * *
With dinner on the horizon and a rumbling in her stomach that reminded her about the lunch she'd skipped in order to check in textbooks, Annie fought with Gabe for a fair share of the full-length mirror in her apartment.
It was then, between his chin and the bottom of the mirror, that she looked up.
"Where are you taking me?" she asked.
"Are you through with your two-thirds of the mirror?" he asked, smiling a little to himself as he noticed that his snide remark got her goat.
"Be my guest," she said.
"I already am," Gabe said, and winked.
Annie stepped aside, then bowed dramatically. She would bite her tongue before she let him get the best of her.
She buckled the belt on her blue jeans and then ran a fingertip down the front of her plaid shirt, checking to see if she'd gotten all the buttons when she realized that he hadn't answered her.
"So … where are you taking me?" she asked again.
Gabe stood behind her, peering over her shoulder and combing his thick, dark hair. He stopped and looked, staring intently into the mirror until she was forced to meet the reflection of his gaze. Her eyes widened, turning them an even deeper shade of jade. "Well?" Annie wouldn't give an inch. His gaze slid across her face, as if imprinting it forever into his memory. The heat from his gaze made her shiver.
"With me," he said.
For Annie, it was answer enough.
Minutes later she followed him outside to his bike, and then put on the helmet he handed her without comment, wondering as she did why she'd bothered to fix her hair.
He squatted down beside the monstrous metallic ride to check it, unaware that Annie was taking in every aspect of his body and clothing.
Heavily muscled haunches stretched the denim tight across his legs as he stood and leaned across the seat to tighten a strap. Annie was thankful for the helmet's tinted visor, aware that she could look her fill without detection.
It was then that she began to realize how much Gabriel could see without being seen when he wore it himself. She shuddered. He saw entirely too much for her peace of mind as it was.
The long sleeves of his blue-and-white striped shirt were unbuttoned and rolled halfway up his forearms. He wore the same black boots he'd had when she met him, only now they bore a month-old shine. They were sporting the same single-roweled spurs.
The black leather vest he wore over the shirt was open and loose across his chest. In essence, he was still the same menacing man she'd first met in the parking lot of the quick stop. And yet, in Annie's eyes, he would be forever changed. She now saw beyond the obvious. Beyond the outer layers of his disguise to the man beneath. He had the appearance of a devil but the heart of a lion. Strong and faithful and constant.
Annie caught her breath as he moved toward her. The setting sun caught on the crown of his head and turned it to a halo of glittering jet. He winked and smiled at her, as if he could see beyond that smoky Plexiglas to the woman beneath. She shivered at his depth of perception.
The smile was almost the same one he'd given her the day they'd met. But not quite. While the change in their relationship had added to its texture, the last two days had given it a certain caution, as if he wasn't quite sure whether to share it with her or not.
"Are you ready?" he asked, and slung his leg over the seat, straddling the bike in an unconsciously enticing movement that reminded Annie of the way he covered her in bed.
Annie nodded. There were no words to say what she was feeling inside. She simply slid on behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist and waited.
Moments later the engine roared to life beneath them, and Annie inhaled, reveling in the joy of the moment, in just being alive. As the bike threaded into the traffic, Gabe's body moved beneath her hands, a powerful ripple of man and muscle.
She swallowed, closed her eyes and let herself pretend she was in control. It was as close as she'd come to lying to herself in months, and she knew it. Gabriel Donner wasn't a man to be controlled … or loved. He wouldn't stand for the former and couldn't return the latter. Either way, Annie was on a one-way ride, with defeat as her destination.
What else is new?
A wry grin tilted the corner of her mouth, but it was lost behind the helmet.
* * *
Chapter 5
«^»
"I should be the one paying the check. You've yet to accept a dollar from me, and it's just not right, Gabriel. After all, I did hire you to do a job."
Annie's words held a hiss of resentment and a lot of guilt as they stood beside the desk, waiting while the cashier totaled their bill.
Gabriel didn't even bother glaring as he paid for their meal. In his mind, they'd gone way past an employer-employee relationship, and there was no going back. Besides, to him, money was nothing more than a necessary evil. He took jobs when he needed them, and when he had enough money to last him awhile, he simply crawled on his Harley and never looked back. Accumulating worldly goods had no place in his life, although Annie would have been shocked at how much he'd managed to save over the
years.
He took the change the cashier handed him, stuffed it into his pocket and cocked an eyebrow at Annie, grinning when she pursed her lips and gave him what he privately thought of as her "schoolteacher look."
"It's not going to work, Annie. I'm not behind on schoolwork, so you can't suspend me. And I'm pretty sure you're not going to fail me. After all—" his drawl held her attention long after it should have, and made her miss the look in his eyes as he continued "—some of my abilities are beyond reproach, aren't they, sugar?"
He leaned forward and, in front of everyone standing at the door waiting to be seated, pressed a firm, sweet kiss directly on her pouted lips.
"Gabriel!"
Annie blushed two shades of red and glanced nervously around, checking to see who was watching. She should have saved herself the embarrassment by not looking, because everyone else was. Several giggles and a chuckle or two mingled in her mind with the fact that he'd just referred to their lovemaking and they both knew it.
She stared at a spot somewhere over his shoulder, then down at the floor, and finally breathed a sigh of relief when he took her by the hand and led her out the door of the steak house.
"You are impossible," Annie said, relishing the cool night air on her heated face.
Gabe grinned. "Nothing's impossible, Annie. I thought we'd already covered that subject—in bed."
She grinned in spite of her embarrassment and made a face.
He smiled and cupped her cheek with his hand. "It's good to see you smiling, Annie. I've missed it … and you."
Breath caught in the back of her throat. This man had a way of cutting past all the excess, polite conversation. He went for the jugular every time.
"I've just had a lot on my mind," she said. "I'm sorry."
Gabe nodded and than leaned forward and whispered "Climb on, woman. The night's not over yet I know where there's a soft bed, empty and waiting to be used."
Annie's heart thumped once in anticipation and then settled back into its regular rhythm. She put the helmet on, slipped on behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist in anticipation of the ride and what awaited her at home.