by Fox, Susan
Pogo whined again and I let him pull me forward.
Gabriel fell in beside me, our hands still linked. “I don’t want to lose him again.”
“I don’t want that either.”
“I know you don’t.”
We were both quiet as we walked the last couple of blocks to English Bay. The beach was almost deserted under a starry sky, and I let an excited Pogo off his leash. “I shouldn’t do this, but he loves it so much, and he always comes when I call.”
Standing side by side, we watched Pogo streak down to the edge of the water, yap at the surf, dart away again to explore an interesting pile of kelp. An alarmed gull took flight and my dog scrambled after it.
“He loves chasing gulls,” I said. Pogo, the eternal optimist, pursuing impossible dreams and never losing hope.
“Have you done anything with Valente’s ashes?” Gabriel asked.
Startled, I gazed up at him. “No, not yet.” I remembered that, just before I put Valente to sleep, I’d told her to dream of chasing gulls on the beach.
“We should scatter them here. She can chase seagulls along with Pogo.”
My eyes filled. And, that suddenly, I realized something. I loved Gabriel DeLuca. “Shit.”
“What? Sorry, was that a bad idea?”
Really bad. I couldn’t let myself love him. Except, it was already too late.
“No,” I said quickly. “Uh, the ashes. Yes, that’s a wonderful idea. I was thinking of something else.”
“Okay,” he said warily.
He looked so puzzled, my beautiful Gabriel. I remembered him saying he couldn’t read me like he could other women. Thank goddess.
And then I remembered other things he’d said. That he couldn’t forget me, couldn’t think straight, that I made him lose control. Could Gabriel be falling in love with me, too?
I had fallen in love with a man who was totally wrong for me. And yet, he was the finest man in the world. If he could love me, too…
I gazed up at Gabriel, and the confusion in his eyes made me smile. Suddenly, everything about him made me smile. Could I imagine spending the rest of my life with this man? As Jimmy Lee would say, Hell, yes! What was unimaginable was being without him.
It was a light-bulb moment and it changed everything.
When I’d thought of my feelings as lust, I’d agonized over whether to give in to them. But love was different. Love was worth sacrifice and compromise. This was why I’d had so much troubling figuring out what to do about Gabriel. I’d been falling in love with him. Had he been doing the same?
Follow your hearts, Janice had said.
Yes, she was right. Now, if I could only persuade Gabriel to believe he had one, and to trust in it. In The Wizard of Oz, Dorothy had helped the Tin Man do that very thing. And look at Gabriel—he’d acknowledged to himself and his son that he cared. He was realizing that relationships were as important as causes.
He shifted and looked wary again. “What’s up, Isadora? You’re looking at me strangely.”
With love and calculation? Yes, my expression must be a little disturbing.
I reminded myself of what I’d said moments earlier. Men could be pretty thick when it came to dealing with emotions, and Gabriel was thicker than most. If I leaped into his arms and confessed my undying love, he’d turn tail and run faster than Pogo.
“We haven’t said a proper hello,” I said softly, in what I hoped was a seductive tone.
“Uh…”
I loved this. Loved throwing this man off balance.
“A hug is customary,” I said, “and maybe even a ki—”
His lips silenced me as he pulled me into his arms for a quick, savage kiss. “Can’t say I’m not obedient,” he murmured into my ear.
Obedient. Sure, he’d obey, but only when the command coincided with his own wishes. Definitely a cat personality. But I’d known that from the moment I saw him at the fundraiser and branded him a panther.
His lips nibbled my earlobe and his tongue caressed the sensitive flesh inside. Sensation shot straight through my body, down to my now-liquid center. I snuggled my body closer to his, arms tight around his waist, hips cradling his erection. What would it be like to feel him inside me?
I gripped his firm butt, pulling him closer, and he groaned softly. His lips left my ear and traveled down the line of my jaw. I tilted my head so my mouth met his, but instead of kissing him I suckled his bottom lip, every now and then pressing my teeth gently into his flesh.
Then I couldn’t resist any longer. I reached down between our bodies and gripped him. I could feel his heat through the fabric, burning into my hand. He thrust against me once, then grabbed my shoulders and jerked me away.
“Isadora?” His voice was ragged. “What’s going on? Last night you stopped me and tonight you ask for a kiss and then… Damn it, woman, you know I want you, but what about Richard?”
I checked the beach, saw that Pogo was playing happily. “Let’s sit down.” I walked over to one of the logs closest to the ocean. When I sat, Gabriel did too, leaving space between us. I moved closer so our thighs touched, and he didn’t move away. His hand rested on his thigh and I intertwined my fingers in his.
He turned toward me. “This is your show. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
I moved our hands higher, so the back of mine rested against his erection. His hand twitched, but he didn’t pull mine away.
“We both care about Richard,” I said.
“Didn’t we have this conversation last night?”
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Gabriel, we’re not responsible for what he thinks and feels,” I said tentatively. “One person doesn’t make another person feel a certain way. Different people react to the same event with quite different feelings.”
He nodded slowly. “That’s true. But I’m his father. I’m supposed to protect him.”
That, too, was true, and unarguable. “You can’t protect him from everything,” I pointed out. “He’s a grownup. He has to face the world by himself.”
Beside my hand, his erection was wilting. “I’ve betrayed his trust too many times.”
And that was unanswerable.
Except… “You didn’t promise him anything this time. It’s not like when you said you’d come to his graduation and then didn’t show up.”
“Oh, Isadora, I really want to let you win this point. But I have to say, surely there’s an implied trust. That I’m not going to”—he paused, then said, deliberately—”fuck his ex-fiancée.”
He was trying to shock me, to reduce whatever we had to its crudest terms. A week ago, maybe even a couple of nights ago, it would have worked. But I didn’t for a moment believe that if we had sex, it would be just fucking, for either of us.
I wanted to say that a person can’t help who he falls in love with. But I knew Gabriel wasn’t ready to admit to love. Would he ever be?
“If it had been Richard who broke up with me, rather than the other way around, would it make a difference?”
He frowned, started to say something, but I cut him off. “What if he and I had been sweethearts in high school and had been broken up for ten years?”
One corner of his mouth tilted. “An interesting argument, counselor.” Then he frowned in puzzlement. “Are you really trying to talk me into bed?”
“Isn’t it inevitable we’re going to end up there? I need us to find a way of living with it.”
His mouth fell open. “Well, damn,” he said slowly. “How do you always manage to surprise me?”
Beside my hand, his erection swelled again. I wanted to curl my fingers around him and speed the process. Was there any reason not to?
Before I could make my move, he sprang to his feet and jerked me up. “Now, Isadora. If it’s inevitable, then let’s damn well do it now.” He glanced out at the beach and yelled, “Pogo, come here!”
“N-now?” Oh goddess, what had I done? It wasn’t that I didn’t want him, but I was wearing plain cotton underwe
ar, hadn’t shaved my legs for a few days, and… “I haven’t washed the dinner dishes.”
Gabriel bent to clip Pogo’s leash to his collar. “Believe me, I don’t give a damn about your dirty dishes.”
Chapter 15
He grabbed my hand and, with me trailing him on one side and Pogo on the other, took off toward the sidewalk. I had to break into a jog to keep up.
Neither of us said a word until we were inside my apartment, kicking off our shoes. Gabriel released Pogo then turned to me. “Animals fed?”
I’d barely started to nod when he said, “Anything else you have to do? And if you say dishes, I’ll—”
“The couch—”
“Pulls out into a bed. I know.”
He strode into the living room and yanked the couch open, while I followed behind, clicking off the light in the hall, then the one in the kitchen. I really wanted to wash those dishes.
Instead, I took the duvet and pillows from the wicker hamper and tossed them on the bed. What had I gotten myself into? Gabriel was so experienced and I’d had only two lovers in my life. Maybe it was my fault the sex hadn’t been hot. Perhaps Gabriel would be disappointed and—
His hands gripped my upper arms. “You’re sure?”
I couldn’t look at him so I studied our feet, mine bare, his in black socks. I’d talked a good game back on the beach, but now I wasn’t sure of anything.
He hooked a finger under my chin and tilted my head up. I forced myself to meet his eyes, where I read his passion and his sincerity. If I said stop, he’d do it. He smiled and his whole face warmed. Yes, I loved Gabriel, and he was well on his way to loving me.
“What do you want, Isadora?”
I slipped my arms around his waist. “You. I want you.”
His arms came around me. “You’ve had me from the first moment I saw you.”
Remembering that moment, I grinned. “I thought you were a panther. Or a Greek tycoon.”
He chuckled. “I thought you were a model.”
“A model?” I couldn’t have heard him right.
We held each other loosely, resting in each other’s arms. Somehow it felt right to be reminiscing about the beginning of our relationship before we took the next, irrevocable step.
“Yeah, you were so slim and beautiful and classy. That perfect black dress, the elegant bone structure, artfully tousled hair.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Artfully tousled?”
“Hey, that’s how it came across at the time. Now I know it’s because you’re always running your fingers through it.”
Was I? “A model, eh?” Not that I particularly admired models, but I was flattered. “Here I thought I was such a plain Jane in that fancy crowd.”
He shook his head. “Never that. You’d stand out anywhere you went.”
The amazing and truly sweet thing was, I could see he believed it. And that made me more confident. So did the fact that, despite the civilized conversation we were conducting, Gabriel’s erection had returned, full force.
I kept expecting him to grab me and pillage my mouth the way he had last night, but the kiss, when it came, was a total surprise. His lips met mine gently, in a soft, barely there touch. “Isadora,” he murmured, his breath warm, scented pleasantly with merlot.
I moved forward, pressing my belly against his distended fly and tightening my hold on his waist, and tilted my head into his kiss. He nibbled around the edges of my lips, each caress sending a dart of pleasure, of arousal, singing through my veins. His tongue teased the crease of my lips. I’d have gladly opened for him, but this slow dance was seductive and I wanted to prolong it. I reached up to tangle my hands in his wonderful, silky hair. “Don’t ever cut your hair,” I murmured.
“Don’t ever grow yours.”
We kissed, standing beside my bed, for what seemed like hours, our tongues mating as our bodies, in subtle movements, tantalized each other through the layers of our clothes.
When I finally pulled back to see his face, he was as flushed as I felt.
He reached for the hem of my T-shirt, eased it up, then slipped the garment over my head. My bra was one of those soft sports-type ones without a hook, and he peeled it off as well.
“Perfect,” he breathed as, for the first time, he touched my breasts. “Everything about you is perfect.”
The hungry, possessive expression in his eyes, the reverence in his touch, told me he meant what he’d said.
He cupped, fondled, teased, then finally leaned forward and drew my aching nipple into his mouth.
I touched him through his suit pants, my whole body yearning for him.
But first things first. From the beginning, I’d longed to see his naked body. Now I undid his shirt buttons and folded the sides back, baring his lean, muscled torso. A scattering of dark, curly hair, nipples the color of milk chocolate, a thrusting ribcage that tapered into a narrow waist. I ran my fingers over him, exploring, feeling his nipples tighten at my touch. Then I shoved the shirt back, off his shoulders. He raised his arms so it could drop to the floor.
Strong shoulders, muscled arms, everything beautifully shaped. Power and grace combined.
We both reached to unfasten each other’s pants at the same time. “Me first,” I demanded.
He raised his hands to allow me access.
I undid the button, slid the zipper over his erection, then began to pull his pants down. I realized I was holding my breath. Unable to bear the suspense, I hooked the band of his underwear with my thumbs and pulled it down at the same time.
His cock sprang free, jutting boldly, proudly, demandingly.
My mouth, quite literally, watered.
“Going to carry on?” he asked on a husky, teasing note.
I sucked in a breath and continued to ease his pants down. Narrow hips, thick curls of pubic hair, strong thighs. More hair on his legs than his chest. Great legs. Finally, I peeled his socks off, knowing already that his feet were as well-shaped as the rest of him.
I rose slowly and stepped back so I could really see him.
“All right?” he asked, and now there was the slightest hint of nervousness.
He must know how attractive he was. Mustn’t he?
“Wonderful,” I breathed. “Even better than I imagined.”
“Spent some time imagining, did you?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Me too.” Now his voice was gruff. “Time to find out how close I came.”
In less than a minute he had me out of my cotton pants and panties. Then it was his turn to stand back and my turn to feel anxious. Very anxious. Until he raised his eyes and I saw the fire in them. “Fuck, Isadora. I was right. You should be a model, for a sculptor who understands how the lines of a woman’s body can sing with beauty.”
The man could go from Anglo-Saxon expletives to poetry in less time than it took me to draw breath.
He held out a hand and I took it, then he pulled me gently toward the bed. “Down,” he said firmly. For a moment I thought he was talking to me, but then Pogo leaped off the bed, shot Gabriel a reproachful look, and went over to lie on his rug.
“Lie down?” Gabriel said softly, suggestively, to me.
I pulled back the duvet, feeling self-conscious at the thought of his eyes on my naked backside. Then I scrambled onto the bed, and he was right behind me. Before I could worry about how to arrange my limbs gracefully, he was doing it for me, spreading me on my back, kneeling between my legs, bending down to kiss my breasts.
Sighing with pure pleasure, I stretched like a cat and offered myself to him. I wanted to explore his body too, but there’d be time for that. I would make sure of it. For now, his lips, his tongue, his fingers, filled my world.
When we’d kissed last night at Spanish Banks, there’d been a sense of urgency, but that was gone now. It felt as if we had forever to touch and taste, to enjoy.
Well, maybe not forever. My skin was super-sensitive, pricking to attention wherever he touched, each nerve ending shootin
g a spark of arousal that fueled the building fire. His fingers curled in my pubic hair, caressed the mound underneath, and his tongue slid between my thighs.
“Gabriel.”
That clever tongue strummed me, made me sing in a chorus of whimpers and moans. I reached down, tugging fiercely on his hair until he raised his head. “Together,” I whispered huskily. “I want the first time to be together.”
He rose and slid up the bed to lie beside me, and I reached down to circle his shaft, wrapping my hand around him like a glove, feeling him pulse and throb at my touch.
“Keep that up,” he rasped, “and you can forget about together.”
“No self-control?” I teased, trailing a finger around the crown.
“Not an ounce. Not with you.” He pulled away from my hand then kissed me gently. “Condom?” he murmured.
“Oh, uh…” It had been so long since I’d been with a new man that I’d forgotten about the awkward but necessary conversation. “I … I’m on the pill. And I’m, uh, clean. I give blood regularly. You do too, right?”
“Yeah. Besides, I always use a condom.”
“Sure, of course. So you, uh…”
He shook his head, slowly but firmly. “No. I don’t want to.”
From Gabriel, it was almost a declaration of love.
“Me either.”
He kissed me again, our mouths knowing each other by now, knowing the ways to tease and tantalize. I closed my eyes and felt his body cover mine, felt his hardness against my belly. I raised my legs and sucked in a breath as he slid down and pressed against aching flesh. I tensed, wanting him so much. What was he waiting for?
His mouth broke from mine. “Isadora. Look at me.”
My eyes flew open. He was so gorgeous with his dark skin, striking features, long, tangled hair. But the most beautiful thing was the expression in his chocolate eyes. Passion and longing—and love.
I love you. I didn’t say the words aloud, but spoke them with my eyes and my whole body. “Gabriel.”
And then he was inside me and I shuddered with the sheer joy of it. Our bodies had been made for each other.
I stroked down the long, sleek line of his shoulders and back, gripped his butt, and felt his muscles work as he pumped into me. Long thrusts that went so deep they pulled me inside out when he drew back, then tiny ones so intense and concentrated that the pressure built unbearably.