She had a hard time believing this. “What did you think it was?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t have a clue. In Esmeraldas I told you my name and you shut down. I can be a world-class asshole. Thought maybe something I did preceded me.”
“No. Your personnel info. Ages are included.”
Ben’s eyes narrowed and his lips pinched into a thin line considering what she said. “You’ve dated younger men. Why not me?”
“How do you know I date younger men?”
He shook his head. “You’re a beautiful woman. Every man we’ve passed, every man in the restaurant has given you a second look. It’s an easy assumption. Answer my question. Why not me?”
“You’re right, I am attracted to you. More than any man I can remember, and I don’t want to be in your way. I’m not what you need. Allowing this to go any further . . .” And have you walk away. She shook her head “I couldn’t . . .” I don’t want that kind of hurt. “Better we acknowledge it won’t work now. Get over it. Move on.” She was slipping back into defensive mood.
“Why won’t it work?” he demanded. “I told you I don’t want kids.”
“I’ve been around. I know what I’m talking about. I’ve seen it happen before.” She glanced over to the sandbox where several children played. “Men think it will work. They marry an older woman and after a while decide they do want children, a son, to pass on their name. To take to ball games, hunting and fishing. The woman they’re with is too old and they look around for a younger one to start their family with.” She paused. “You could change, Ben.”
Ben said nothing. Gemma rose and took in the peaceful park with its rows of clipped trees. “This was my fault and I apologize. I should have had the courage to tell you why I didn’t meet you.” She looked back to him. What had she been thinking? “I don’t want to mess up your life. Go back to Baltimore, find a woman who can give you everything you want and deserve.”
Ben glared at her, his jaw tightened. “You think because you’re older than me you can treat me like a child. Tell me what I can and can’t have. Make my decisions.
“Think again.
“I make my own decisions. I’m not going anywhere. I don’t know if I deserve anyone as good as you, but you are what I want.” He leaned back on the bench, crossed an ankle to the opposite knee and spread his arms across the back. “Sit down, Gemma.”
She bristled at being given an order and he read her expression.
“I know the admiral isn’t used to taking orders, but this once, suck it up.”
She said nothing.
“You are a powerful, brilliant, beautiful woman that I’m pretty damn sure I’ve fallen in love with. If you think for a minute I’m going to let you walk away from me without a fight, think again. I repeat, I don’t want kids and age means nothing to me.”
Gemma sat.
“But in ten years.”
“Don’t.” He shook his head. “We have no guarantee we’ll see ten seconds from now. Don’t worry about ten years from now.”
“But children, how can you be sure?”
“You said it. The kids I work with are my kids. Seeing a kid that two months before had a scarf tied around his face to hide a deformity gives me a smile. It’s all I need. I understand your hesitation. For today, can we put that on the back burner and enjoy each other? See some of Paris? I promise I won’t pressure you into anything. We’ll take this slow. Get to know each other outside the mayhem and adrenaline highs.”
She could tell him no, get up, leave and without a doubt be miserable. Or she could take a chance and tell him yes. Past experience said get up and run like hell. Instinct said Ben was different. Her common sense said it was time to end this shitty back-and-forth game she’d been playing. She swallowed hard and nodded like a bobble head. “Okay. Slow.” Trouble was she didn’t know if she could do slow. With her out-of-control emotions all he had to do was kiss her, or hold her, and she’d drag him back to her apartment and get naked.
“Today we see some sights. That’s all.”
“I can do slow,” she said, more to reassure herself than to agree.
Ben’s body language completely changed. She couldn’t take her eyes off his mouth. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. What did she expect? Wasn’t staring at his mouth an invitation to do just that? Instead he stood and offered a hand.
“There’s a condition,” he said, gripping her hand tightly. “No more talk about the age difference. Agreed?”
She nodded and stood. “Agreed.”
“Where do you want to start?”
They were so close all she had to do was lean a little and she’d be up against him, feel his hard body against hers. Slow was definitely going to be difficult. “We can catch the Metro at the St. Paul stop. It’s not very far. We’ll go right past your hotel.”
Slow. Ben didn’t know if he could do slow. When she put her hand in his it was all he could do to keep from pulling her against him, kissing her until they both couldn’t breathe. Then hauling her to his bare-bones hotel room. Lying on top of her in that tiny bed and making love to her for days. Going right past the damn place would be more than he could take. “Already seen what’s on that street, can we take another route?”
She pulled back and gave him a questioning look. “Sure. We can go this way.” She gestured to the opposite side of the park. “To another stop. The Bastille monument.”
“Sounds good to me.” He tipped her head in the direction she gestured. “Lead the way.”
On the way they passed several ethnic restaurants, salivated outside the window of a chocolate shop, window-shopped storefront boutiques and a jewelry store whose designs only included rubies and diamonds. The Bastille was a surprise. There was only a monument-type thing marking the spot where the long-destroyed Bastille had stood.
They exited the Metro at the stop before the Louvre because Gemma thought it was more dramatic to enter the famed museum from above rather than through the underground stop. He was glad she’d insisted. The building was much bigger and grander than pictures he’d seen. Gemma guided him to the oddly out-of-place glass pyramid entrance. They took the escalator down to the lobby, where hundreds if not thousands of squealing, excited schoolkids speaking at least three different languages bounced around. They’d stumbled into some kind of special school event. In silent agreement they bolted for the exit. The Louvre would have to wait another day. Outside Gemma gave him a brilliant smile that made it even more difficult to keep his hands off her.
“Sorry about that,” she said as he disappeared his hands into his pockets.
“We can walk to the Orsay from here. It’s just across the Seine.”
“Great, as long as there’s not ten thousand schoolkids there.”
“Come on.” She looped her arm through his and guided him toward the crosswalk. “Won’t know till we get there.” Her voice was light, happy, and as she pulled him along he could see and feel she’d relaxed. Fuck it! He took his hands out of his pockets and slipped an arm around her. “What’s in the Orsay?” he said, rushing her across the street as the light changed.
She slipped her arm around his waist. “Oh, not much, just Manet, Monet, Renoir, van Gogh.” She pronounced Gogh properly, sounding like she was trying to get rid of a hairball. “Toulouse-Lautrec and Gauguin, my absolute favorites.”
Yeaph, she was definitely relaxing and he was definitely in love. As they walked across the bridge over the Seine he kept asking questions about art, encouraging her to talk. Loving her enthusiasm, how she smiled and how it made him feel.
Ben looked up as they walked the sidewalk beside the Musée d’Orsay. “What was this building before? It doesn’t look like it was built as an art museum.”
“Train station. The glass roof gives an amazing light to the art.” She stopped and looked around at the street parking. “Oh, no.” She rushed ahead to the corner of the building, where signs pointed to the entrance. She stopped dead, turned, and sprea
d her hands into a what-next gesture.
“What?” he said, catching up.
“They’re closed. That amazing glass roof I was telling you about also leaks. When the city has heavy rain the museum can be closed for a day or two after.”
“Shall we try for the Eiffel Tower or do you think it will have collapsed by the time we get there?”
“I think it’s safe from us. It’s over there. See?” He followed the direction she was pointing and sure enough he could see the top. He turned back out to the street. “But I’m getting us a cab. That looks way too far to walk.”
An hour later they were at the top of the hundred-foot exclamation point taking in the magnificent view and totally under the spell of Paris. Gemma pointed out the Arc de Triomphe, the spirals of Notre Dame and Ste. Chapelle, the Sacré Coeur church high on a hill in Montmartre. He pointed to a butt-ugly square building not far from the tower. “What’s that?”
Gemma laughed. “It’s an office building, but the Parisians like to say it’s the box the Eiffel Tower came in.”
Seeing her like this made his heart sing. He’d barely looked at the sites she’d pointed out. He couldn’t tear his gaze from her face, smiling so much his face hurt. “I’m ready for a drink or cup of coffee, what about the restaurant here in the tower?”
Gemma scrunched her face. “Not here, too touristy. There are plenty of places close.”
“You’re the tour guide, Madame. Lead the way.”
Chapter 16
They were in a café in the Rue Cler not far from the Eiffel Tower and halfway through a bottle of wine and platter of assorted cheeses and pâté when Gemma broke the spell.
“What did Sammy tell you about me? About my childhood?”
He freshened her glass while he considered how much he should tell her and why she was asking him that now. If he didn’t answer it would eat at her. Sour the rest of the afternoon and evening. He poured the last of the wine into his own glass and took a drink before answering. “First I want you to know I coerced him into telling me where to find you and giving me an idea what I’d done to make you blow me off, not return my calls.”
Gemma narrowed her eyes and gave him a what the-fuck are you talking about look. Christ, she was good at these withering looks. He could only imagine what it would be like to have her really pissed with you.
“I told him I’d sue Guardian Air over the accident.”
Gemma said nothing.
“He agreed to answer questions he could with basics, no details. Any more would have to come from you. He wasn’t sure you’d come here. Only a few people would know for sure where you were, like your commanding officers and assistant.” He wondered who an admiral’s commanding officer would be.
“You came to Paris not knowing if I was here?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes. I came here and had been standing across from your building for hours before you came out.”
Her expression softened. “What is the reason my son gave for my coming here?”
This is where it was going to get sticky. Sam said she was an uncommonly brave woman who would stand and fight to the death and he’d certainly seen that side of her. But when it came to personal issues, she’d close herself off to love on any level for fear of being hurt. As a child, parental love was nonexistent. Three years after she married, her husband was killed. She’d done the best she could for her family. She’d been shortchanged in the love department so many times she walked around with a half-dead heart. “Sam said his mother had experienced more hurt in her life than any ten people.”
“He knows this how?” The hard look returned.
“Your brother. Apparently your kids felt you abandoned them.” Gemma stiffened and blinked. “Your brother thought it was time to end that misconception. He told Sam and Danny what you went through as kids. What the death of their father did to you.”
“What”—she looked away for a moment then back—“did he . . . tell them?”
“He said you were dirt poor and your parents were drunks.” There was no reaction. She sat there as calm as if he’d asked if she wanted more wine. “To protect you from your parents when things got bad he hid you. In the house when you were little. When you got older, he got you out of the house. Even in the winter and at night.” Ben was no head doc but he knew enough to know talking would help. She took a drink of wine and nodded. And shit, she said nothing. “Your brother said one time you went missing. He found you in a cave.” She shifted uncomfortably in her chair and looked out the window to the tower ironwork.
“That was the cave you told me about?”
Her breath hitched. “Yes.”
She had to have one of the crappiest starts in life of any person he’d ever heard of, yet she’d gone on to make something of herself and do for her children. Never asking anything in return.
“Your brother told Sam about their father’s death, how hard you took it. Married barely three years with three small children, you opted to stay in the Coast Guard. You didn’t want your children growing up dirt poor like you had.” He waited until she returned her gaze to him.
“To help out, your brother and his wife took the kids in. Your visits became more and more difficult. To reduce the hurt on the children you opted to come less frequently.”
“What did Sammy say about all that?”
“He said he wished he’d known all along.”
She rested her fingers on the base of the wineglass, moving it in circles on the marble tabletop, looking intently at the ruby contents of the glass as if it were about to give up the secrets of life. Come on, Gemma, open up. Talk.
“He also said if I hurt you he would send his sister to take me out.” Her head snapped up. “From what I’ve heard about Olivia, she can and would do it.”
“Olivia knows?”
“I had the impression that Sam told her recently.”
Her expression softened. “I had no idea. Thank you for telling me.” She chewed on her lower lip, something he was learning she did when considering what she would say next. “Tell me about your scar.”
“My scar?” He glanced down and his hand rose to his side reflexively. “Why?”
“You know a lot about me, now it’s my turn to learn about you. I can’t help wonder why a reconstructive surgeon would keep a scar like that when he didn’t need to.”
Okay. At least she was talking, not about herself but it was better than nothing.
“I keep it to show patients what can be done.”
She gave him a puzzled look.
He blew out a breath between clenched teeth. Talking about the scar and what happened after the accident wasn’t any easier for him than it was for her to talk about her life. “Those five inches of scar is less than one fourth of the original scar. There are also surgery scars that have been erased.”
“I’m sorry. I . . .”
“It’s okay. I told you, that accident changed my life. That night when you said the Big Guy had plans for me, He did. When I have a patient who is hesitant or doubtful about what I can do for them, I hand them a picture of what my scars looked like before surgery and take off my shirt. They know I’ve been through what they have and they can be helped.” He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “What you did that night. I can’t begin to tell you the far-reaching ramifications.”
The hand under his turned and twisted and for a moment he thought she was trying to escape his grasp but she wasn’t. She laced her fingers between his and squeezed.
“It did for me too. I thought you had died that night. I thought I’d failed. That by making the decision to stay with you and not go to the first house for help I’d caused your death. Killed you. It consumed me. I thought about Coast Guard rescue crews making those kinds of decisions every day. I developed a training program to evaluate the most effective and safest way to reach the point of rescuing a person. Make the approach as important as the rescue. And it makes a difference for the crews knowing that
they absolutely are doing their best.”
Talking about her job was a beginning.
Gemma’s heart and soul felt light, free. It was like stepping out of a suit of armor.
Sam and Olivia knew why she’d left them with her brother. And Danny knew. He didn’t die thinking she’d left him.
They weren’t angry.
She was released from thinking a bad decision she’d made caused a man’s death. These things had held her captive, yet they’d formed who she was.
This man across from her was being patient and caring. Everything she knew about him said he was a good man. A good doctor. It couldn’t have been easy telling her what he’d learned from Sam. Each passing moment with him worked to erode her fear and give her the courage to trust. Stop running. Her pulse picked up. Her breathing turned to short gasps as she fought tears. Madame was right about Ben. He is a real man. “What would you like to do now?”
Ben looked surprised but only for a moment. “I want to see Notre Dame. Then I want to take one of those dinner cruises on the Seine I read about on the plane and drink way too much good wine.” He reached across the table and stroked her cheek with the back of a finger. “Or anything you want to do. I just want to be with you,” he said softly and moved his hand to cup her cheek. She turned into it and kissed his palm.
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
They took a cab to Pont Neuf and strolled across the bridge, then along the Seine. The afternoon turned cool and Ben insisted on buying her a shawl from a vendor stall. The grizzled man repeatedly assured them it was cashmere, although it clearly wasn’t, showing them the label sewn at the hem. She and Ben dutifully looked unable to contain their laughter when they saw that cashmere had been spelled casahamere. Ben paid the man full price even though Gemma thought the vendor would’ve taken half his asking price.
At the cathedral they walked the outside before entering. Ben bought a brochure describing the exterior. A brochure written in French. After several obviously incorrect translations, Gemma took it from him. Her descriptions of the façade, gargoyles and flying buttresses were interrupted every few feet by Ben asking if the cash-a-mere-a was keeping her warm. It was. More to the point, he was. His smile, his humor, his gentle touches that graduated to holding hands when they entered the grand cathedral made her very warm.
Under Fire: The Admiral Page 15