He moved out of the house and she shut the front door for him. In silence he carried her to the truck. She opened the door and he slid her onto the seat.
For a tiny fraction of a second her arms lingered around his neck...or did he imagine it?
He checked her face to be sure.
Their eyes met and he knew. It slammed into him and locked his chest and stole his breath.
There was knowledge there. He could read it as plainly as newsprint. Wanting. Aching desire. No, something even beyond that. It writhed between them.
His gaze fell to the pure bow of her lips. Full, ripe pillows, unmarred by lipstick right now, but tender and parted slightly. Behind them, the pure white of her teeth and the pink of her tongue. The temptation to kiss her lips was like a vice squeezing his chest. He could feel her breath fanning his cheek and it was like a super-heated butterfly touch of electricity.
Her lips moved. Formed a word. "Yes," she whispered.
Yes, kiss me.
Seth's breath stopped. His heart seemed to stop.
He looked up into her eyes. It would be so easy to lean forward the few inches that separated them and take the kiss. His whole body seemed to pulse with the drive to push his lips against hers.
What would she taste like? Ambrosial honey, for sure. His groin tightened at the prospect.
For long seconds he hung there, torn by the temptation hovering so very close. He curled his hand into a fist by her hip. Her slender hip.
He wanted that kiss with a power than coiled in his gut and squeezed his heart, and for that reason, he wouldn't take it. Not now.
He remembered something Gabrielle had said earlier. He lifted his hands to unwind her arms from around his neck and put them in her lap. "Not until you've seen me bleed, Gabrielle." He wasn't surprised to find his own hands were shaking. "Not until then."
He forced himself to close the door on her and walk around the truck to the driver's side and climb in. He felt like Tin Man. All steel limbs and joints.
They were almost to Jasper and the turn off to Jasper Park Lodge before Gabrielle spoke again. The short day was growing dark and she had pulled the shirt collar up around her face. Her voice came out of the folds. "My father will want to meet you."
"I had a feeling he would," Seth said. He was relieved to hear his voice emerge evenly once more. He took a breath. "I'm sorry. About before."
"Don't be," she said quickly. She sat up, emerging from the shirt, and gave him a quick smile. "Actually, if there's one thing I regret out of this whole day, it's the loss of my camera and laptop."
He knew she was trying to shift the subject again. She was damned good at it. But he was a stubborn S.O.B., according to his superiors. He shook his head. "I wanted to, Gabrielle. I still do. But I won't...not until you know why I want to. Not until you trust me."
"That could take a millennium or two. I don't hand out trust too easy." She tossed her head, throwing her hair forward and ran her fingers through her hair, tousling it. Change of subject again, Seth realized. "Why complicate matters?" she said, looking at him with her arms up, her hair up, with a sexy sideways slant that he thought he even recognized from some movie or another. "Why not just call it what it is? Sex, nice and easy."
Anger touched him. "Because it's not just sex and you know it."
Silence greeted his response. He glanced at her, and saw she was hunched back down into the shirt again. Retreat. Defense mode.
He gritted his jaw and reminded himself of the titanium layers. But even titanium could be handled. Manipulated. One layer at a time was the way.
For a cold, sane moment, he asked himself why he was bothering to try and handle her at all. This one was trouble. Gabrielle Sherborne was a spoilt, selfish wild child too used to getting her own way.
Besides, she was totally out of his league, in terms of money, influence and power.
But she had blushed. He focused on that. The blush had been genuine. He had touched the core of the real Gabrielle Sherborne, even just for one fleeting moment.
And then there was the kiss she had offered him.
His whole body tightened as he was immersed in that moment again. Damn.
"I don't know what that was back at the cabin, Gabrielle. I've never felt it before," he said softly. "Have you?"
Her answer took a long time. But finally, her voice emerged from inside the shirt. "No."
Victory. He took a deep breath. "Then it's not just sex and we need to figure it out." He turned the truck into the road that led to Jasper Park Lodge.
"'We?'" she responded. "Come January second, I'm flying back to New York, Seth. What makes you think I'm even interested in finding out?" She was using a disinterested drawl, one that even Seth didn't believe. "You might have served as an adequate distraction over the Christmas break, as Dad insisted on dragging us all up here. But now, with all this crap, I don't think you're worth it as a distraction, either." It was such a poor attempt at lying, Seth was almost astonished.
He braked, bringing the truck to a slewing stop, and turned to face her. "You're afraid," he said. "I understand that—"
"Damn it, Seth, will you get me out of this goddam car!" she screamed at him, her chest heaving. The shirt fell away from her face and he finally saw her eyes. Tears filled them. And fear.
He lifted his hand, a soothing motion. "Okay, okay." He got the truck in gear again, his heart thudding in his chest.
The lights of the main building of the lodge were just ahead. Lots of floodlighting, which he knew she would want to avoid. "Where do you want me to take you?"
"My father's main cabin," she said stiffly. He could hear the unshed tears in her voice. It made him feel sick with self-loathing. He'd done that.
He followed her instructions, steering the truck through well-ploughed lanes between private cabins and chalets, heading toward a sprawling cabin that was built out over the lake. It had seven bedrooms and its own dock.
"Seth, the sum total of what you don't know and don't understand about me would stagger you," she said softly, as they approached the well-lit portico of the luxury cabin.
He pulled up under the portico and turned off the engine. "You make yourself sound like an old woman."
"Sometimes I feel like I'm ninety," she confessed.
"Sometimes, so do I," he said honestly.
There were people boiling out of the double doors of the cabin. She grimaced and looked back at him. "Brace yourself," she warned.
Before he had time to ask her what she meant, the people were at the truck. He was forced to open the door and step out to meet them, for they had already opened Gabrielle's door and were pulling her out and into their arms, all speaking at once.
Chapter Three
"My name is Darlene," the gorgeous blonde said, showing Seth into yet another room in the chalet. "I'm Mr. Sherborne's executive associate. He'll be with you in a moment. Would you have a seat?"
Seth looked around the room. It was obviously being used as an office. A desk with in-laid leather panels dominated the corner, with armchairs pulled up to it. But he didn't want to sink into one of those and lose his footing. "Thanks," he said, setting his butt onto the arm of a sofa against the wall.
Darlene smiled brightly, pushing a hand into her very short hair. A nervous mannerism. He was putting her on edge. "Well, can I get you something?" She waved towards decanters on the sideboard.
"Coffee, thanks."
Her hand dropped. "Er...espresso, macchiato...?"
"Just black."
She smiled again. "I'll be right back."
"I'm sure you will." He crossed his arms and she almost jumped. He knew then she was aware of who he was. Not just his name, but his record. That was the reason for her nervousness. Only people familiar with his history got jumpy around him like that. She almost but not quite skirted him on her way to the door and that confirmed it. Someone had checked up on him since Gabrielle had phoned Daddy. Which meant Daddy had a very long arm indeed because Seth wo
rked for people who didn't like their names mentioned loudly.
Very interesting.
Then Cameron Sherborne himself walked into the room and Seth knew he was in the presence of a man with a very long arm indeed. Seth had met more than his share of truly powerful men—politicians, businessmen and world leaders. He knew how to measure true power. Sherborne had it in spades. There were no grandiose gestures. It radiated along with the complete assurance that enveloped him.
Sherborne didn't sit behind the desk. He didn't need the shield. Instead he walked over to Seth and held out his hand. "I owe you my thanks," he said. He spoke with an interesting preciseness. "Gabrielle made light of it, but I've seen what's left of the Mustang and the side of your truck and I've listened to enough stunt men over the years to know that what you did today was more than many men would have had the courage to try, let alone the stamina and speed of thought to pull off. For that I thank you. It's a paltry return for your services, but I have a feeling that anything more would feel like an insult to you."
"Yes, it would." Seth had been braced by Gabrielle's warning to somehow defend himself against Cameron Sherborne. Now he felt his shield slipping in surprise. "You're an insightful man."
Sherborne settled himself on the front edge of his desk. "I'm a relieved one, Mr. O'Connor. With your skills, you may already be aware that we've done a background check on you. These things are standard procedures in our family whenever a stranger appears amongst us, so you must not feel insulted about being singled out, or that we are suspicious of you in any way."
"I'd figured it out," Seth agreed. "But I doubt that you found out as much as you think."
"I know that you're part of Joint Task Force 2, Captain O'Connor," Sherborne said calmly.
Seth took a breath. Then another. "You do have reach, if you were able to dig up that fact." He could feel his heart slamming against his chest.
Sherborne held up his hand. "Oh, I won't pass it around. We also understand discreet in our family, too. I confess I find it puzzling that Canada does not make nearly as much fuss of its bona fide war heroes as America does."
Sweat broke out on his temples. "Just how much do you know?" Seth whispered, his lips dry.
Cameron Sherborne's eyes were almost identical to his daughter's, but Sherborne's gaze was hardened steel. "Afghanistan, Honduras, Haiti, the Sinai, the Persian Gulf...should I go on?"
Seth shook his head. All of it. Sherborne had all of it.
"Relax, Captain. I'm not about to trade Canadian military secrets away. I was making a point."
"You made it," Seth said and wasn't surprised to find his voice emerged hoarse. His military record was supposed to be buried so deep even his immediate commanding officer only knew his name, rank and serial number. He didn't wear dog tags so that he could maintain a civilian appearance outside of operational status.
"I haven't quite made the point I intended to make," Sherborne said in his precise manner.
Seth drew another breath, building endorphins, recovering. "And that was?" he said politely.
"If there's anyone in the world that can take care of my daughter, it's you. You've amply demonstrated that fact just today."
"Gabrielle has demonstrated for the last few years that she's doing a fine job of taking care of herself," Seth pointed out.
Sherborne smiled sourly. "Perhaps. The long term polls aren't in on that yet and I don't want to wait for the results." He stood up. "I can make arrangements tonight, Captain O'Connor, to wire one million U.S. dollars into any bank account you care to name. All you have to do is marry my daughter."
* * * * *
Gabrielle pulled her hand back from the door as if it had suddenly turned into molten steel. Had she just heard her father say what she thought he'd just said?
She froze outside his study, her heart thundering. Please let me have misheard, she begged the heavens.
She clutched her hand to her chest and her other hand over her mouth, afraid that she might give her presence away with her breath, or her heartbeat, which was thudding in her ears, and must surely be loud enough to be heard in the next room.
"I'm sorry?" Seth said inside the study, as if he, too, had misheard. But his tone was flat. He had heard well enough. He was giving her father a chance to recant. To reconsider his offer.
So Gabrielle knew she had heard it properly, too. Her father really had offered Seth a million dollars to marry her. She closed her eyes, as humiliation and fury battled each other in her gut, and she wondered whether to bust into the study and confront them, or just slink away and hide her head in shame. Did she really want to look Seth in the eye after this?
Instead, she turned and rested her back against the wall next to the door of the study and shamelessly eavesdropped. The family room was empty because everyone was waiting in the other den for her father to finish his business so they could start the movie. She wouldn't be interrupted unless Darlene came back.
"One million dollars is not a buy off," her father explained evenly. "It's not even intended to be an inducement. Consider it an investment start up, if you like. I know what they pay captains in the Canadian army and in this family, an afternoon's shopping trip would set you back six month's salary."
"Now you really are insulting me," Seth said, his tone angry.
"I'm asking you to marry my daughter. Where is the insult?"
"You should ask Gabrielle that question."
"You find my daughter objectionable to look at?" her father pressed.
"I'm leaving now."
The door opened further. Gabrielle slid quickly along the wall, away from the door.
Seth stepped out of the door.
"My offer still stands," her father called after him.
Seth turned back to face him. Cold anger flickered in his eyes and his jaw was flexed. "It can stand until the earth stops revolving. Your million dollars is quite safe."
Then Seth's gaze shifted to the side and found her. His chest lifted, as if he drew a sharp breath. "Gabrielle," he said softly.
Darlene stepped around him. "Mr. O'Connor?" She was holding a coffee cup in one hand and had a bunch of files tucked under her other arm.
"I'm done here," Seth said, taking the coffee cup from her. "I believe Mr. Sherborne will see you now." He opened the door for Darlene, ushered her in and shut it behind her. Then he dumped the coffee cup on the side table that stood next to the study door and moved quickly to stand in front of Gabrielle.
"You heard," he said simply.
She nodded. She could see the anger in his eyes, still. "It could have been worse," she said softly. "What if he'd dangled ten or fifteen million instead of a paltry one million? How much harder would you have found it to walk away from that?"
Seth shook his head. "It wouldn't have made any difference at all. Don't try to make light of this, Gabrielle. It's your life he's trying to sell."
"It's yours he's trying to manipulate, too," she pointed out. "I've had twenty-eight years of it. You had five minutes of it. I tried to warn you, didn't I?"
"Yes, you did." He smiled and she saw the anger disappear. "Your father really is a master power player, isn't he? No wonder you've been at odds with him for so long. I'm beginning to understand some of the stories behind the headlines, now."
"This is unusual, even for him," Gabrielle hurried to add. "My father is a political player, but this is...this really takes the cake, Seth. I've never known him to do something this shameless."
"Perhaps he has no limits when it comes to his daughter?" Seth suggested.
"His other daughters, perhaps. Not me," Gabrielle said sadly. "That's part of the vast tracts you don't understand about me and my family, Seth. He just sees this as a quick way to off-load a trouble-prone daughter onto some poor schmuck with a knack for saving her ass."
He stepped closer to her and his big hand cupped her jaw. "I don't know much about your family. You're right there. But I think you're wrong about your father."
His heat
and scent stole into her senses and she was glad she was already leaning against the wall, for she had to lock her knees and prop herself against the weakening wave of lust and wanting that washed through her. She lifted her head to look up at him.
"We'll see," she managed to answer.
"You changed into your own clothes," he murmured. "Is this what you normally wear around here?"
The little skirt and silk stockings and the satin camisole were a thousand miles away from the yoga pants and jeans she had been schlepping around in the cabins away from the prying eyes of the media. She had put them on because she had known she would see Seth again. He had already seen her at her dowdiest. The stilettos were high enough that she reached his shoulder, but she still had to lift her chin to look up at him.
"I...er...yes," she lied.
His smile warmed and the expression in his eyes grew hot. "I like it," he said. His hand dropped to the camisole. His fingers barely grazed her skin, but it made her gasp. With a brush of the tips of his fingers, the top button of the camisole fell open, revealing most of her cleavage.
Her heart was thundering against her ribs. "Seth," she whispered.
He leaned closer still. She could feel the heat of him radiating against her. The brush of his jeans against her ankles sent weakening waves of pleasure up her legs.
Gabrielle wanted him to press against her and pin her against the wall. She almost moaned with the need to feel his weight against her.
Seth’s lips were next to hers. His gaze locked with hers. "Your father has made it impossible for me to stay here," he said softly.
She clutched at his wide shoulder, as cold fright tore through her. "No, Seth...you have to ignore him. If you let him influence your behavior in any way at all, you're letting him win."
"If I stay, Gabrielle, you're not going to know why."
She gripped his shirt, bunching it in her fist. "I'll figure it out for myself. You said it yourself, Seth. You'll bleed for me. Right?"
Fatal Wild Child Page 3