Gabriel's Angel (21 page)

“Sometimes your paintings are like that,” she thought aloud. “Changing, shifting angles, with the colors intensifying from the core to the edges.” She nestled her head against his shoulder as they watched the new day dawn. “I don't think I've ever seen a more beautiful sunrise.”

His skin was warm beneath her cheek, his arms strong, firm with muscle, as they held her to him. She could feel the light, steady beating of his heart. She turned her face toward his as the first birds woke and began to sing. When love was so easily reached, only a fool questioned it.

“I want you, Gabe.” She laid her hand on his cheek, her lips on his lips. “I've never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

There was a moment's hesitation. She felt it, understood it, then coaxed him past it. This wasn't the time to think of yesterdays or tomorrows. Her lips softened and parted against his and her hand slipped back to brush through his hair.

“You were right,” she murmured.

“About what?”

“I don't think of anyone but you when we make love.”

He hadn't meant to ask her for anything. He found there was nothing he couldn't ask.

She was so beautifully open. It made it possible, even easy, to put that part of her life that left him angry and bitter aside. That had nothing to do with where they could take each other. With his mouth still on hers, he moved to the bed. She wrapped her arms around him as he lay beside her. For a moment that was enough.

Morning embraces, sunrise kisses, after a long, sleepless night. Her face was pale with fatigue, but still she trembled for him. The sigh that passed from her lips to his was soft and drowsy. Her body arched, lazy, limber, at the stroke of his hands.

The dawn air was balmy as it fluttered through the window and over their skin. She parted his robe, pushed it back from his shoulders, so that she could warm his skin herself. Just as slowly, he drew off her nightgown. Naked, they lay on the rumpled sheets and made long, luxurious love.

Neither of them set the pace. It wasn't necessary. Here they were in tune, without words or requests. Demands were for other moments, night moments, when passion was hot and urgent. As the light turned gray with morning, desire was deliciously cool.

Perhaps the love she felt for him was best displayed this way, with ease and affection that lasted so much longer than the flare of a flame. She moved with him and he with her, and they brought pleasure to each other that came in sighs and murmurs instead of gasps and shudders.

She felt the roughness of his cheek when she stroked her hand there. This was real. Marriage was more than the band she wore on her finger or the coming together full of need and excitement in the dark. Marriage was holding on at daybreak.

He would have scaled mountains for her. Until now, somehow, the full extent of his feelings for her had escaped him. He'd recognized the need first, the love later, but now he understood the devotion. She was his in a way no other woman could ever be. For the first time in his life, he wanted to be a hero.

When they came together, full light was pouring over the bed. Later, still entwined, they slept.

***

“I know I'm doing the right thing.” Still, Laura hesitated when they stepped off the elevator in Lorraine's hotel. “And, no matter what happens, I'm not going to back down.” She caught Gabe's hand in hers and held it tight. Lack of sleep had left her feeling light-headed and primed for action. “I'm awfully glad you're here.”

“I told you before, I don't like the idea of you having to see her again, to deal with her on any level. I can easily handle this on my own.”

“I know you could. But I told you, I need to. Gabe . . .”

“What?”

“Please don't lose your temper.” She laughed a little at the way his brows rose. The tension rising inside her eased. “There's no need to look like that. I'm only trying to say that shouting at Lorraine won't accomplish anything.”

“I never shout. I do occasionally raise my voice to get a point across.”

“Since we've gotten that straightened out, I guess the only thing left to do is knock.” She felt the familiar flutter of panic and fought it back as she knocked on the door. Lorraine answered, looking regal and poised in a navy suit.

“Laura.” After the briefest of nods, she turned to Gabe. “Mr. Bradley. It's nice to meet you. Laura didn't mention that you were coming with her this afternoon.”

“Everything that concerns Laura and Michael concerns me, Mrs. Eagleton.” He entered, as Laura could never have done, without an invitation.

“I'm sure that's very conscientious of you.” Lorraine closed the door with a quick click. “However, some of the things Laura and I may discuss are private family matters. I'm sure you understand.”

“I understand perfectly.” He met her level gaze with one of his own. “My wife and son are my family.”

The war of wills was silent and unpleasant. Lorraine ended it with another nod. “If you insist. Please, sit. I'll order coffee. The service here is tolerable.”

“Don't bother on our account.” Laura spoke with only the slightest trace of nerves as she chose a seat. “I don't think this should take very long.”

“As you like.” Lorraine sat across from them. “My husband would have been here, but business prevented him from making the trip. I do, however, speak for both of us.” That said, she laid her hands on the arms of her chair. “I'll simply repeat what has already been discussed. I intend to take Tony's son back to Boston and raise him properly.”

“And I'll repeat, you can't have him.” She would try reason one last time, Laura thought, leaning forward. “He's a baby, not an heirloom, Mrs. Eagleton. He has a good home and two parents who love him. He's a healthy, beautiful child. You should be grateful for that. If you want to discuss reasonable visitation rights—”

“We'll discuss visitation rights,” Lorraine said, interrupting her. “Yours. And if I have anything to say about it, they will be short and spare. Mr. Bradley,” she continued, turning away from Laura. “Surely you don't want to raise another man's child as your own. He hasn't your blood, and he only has your name because, for whatever reason, you married his mother.”

Gabe drew out a cigarette and lit it slowly. Laura had asked him not to lose his temper. Though he wouldn't be able to accommodate her, it wouldn't do to let it snap so quickly. “You're very wrong,” was all he said.

She sighed, almost indulgently. “I understand you have feelings for Laura. My son had them, too.”

The first chain on his temper broke clean in half. The rage could be seen in his eyes and heard in each precise, bitten-off word. “Don't you ever compare my feelings for Laura with your son's.”

Lorraine paled a little, but went on evenly. “I have no idea what she may have been telling you—”

“I told him the truth.” Before Gabe could speak, or move, Laura put a hand on his arm. “I told him what you know is the truth, that Tony was ill, emotionally unstable.”

Now it was Lorraine who moved, rising deliberately from her chair. Her face was flushed and pinched, but her voice was held at the same even pitch. “I will not sit here and listen to you defame my son.”

“You will listen.” Laura's fingers dug hard into Gabe's arm, but she didn't give way. “You'll listen now the way you never listened when I was desperate for help. The way you never listened when Tony was screaming for it in the only way he knew. He was an alcoholic, an emotional wreck who abused someone weaker than he. You knew he hurt me, you saw the marks and ignored them or made excuses. You knew there were other women. By your silence, you gave him approval.”

“What was between you and Tony was none of my concern.”

“That's for you to live with. But I warn you, Lorraine, if you open the lid, you won't be able to handle what comes out.”

Lorraine sat again, if for no other reason than the tone of Laura's voice and the fact that for the first time Laura had called her by her first name. That one change made them equals. This wasn't the same frightened, easily pressured woman she had known only a year before.

“Threats from someone like you don't worry me. The courts will decide if some loose-moraled young tramp will have custody of an Eagleton or if he'll be placed with those who can give him the proper upbringing.”

“If you refer to my wife in that way again you'll have more than threats to deal with.” Gabe blew out a long, narrow stream of smoke. “Mrs. Eagleton.”

“It doesn't matter.” Laura squeezed his hand. She knew he was on the verge of losing control. “You can't make me cringe anymore, Lorraine, and you won't make me beg. You know very well that I was faithful to Tony.”

“I know that Tony didn't believe that.”

“Then how do you know the child is his?”

Absolute silence fell the moment Gabe spoke. Laura started to speak but was held off by the look in Gabe's eyes. Color flooded into Lorraine's face again when she found her voice.

“She wouldn't have dared—”

“Wouldn't she? That's odd. You intend to prove that Laura was unfaithful to your son, and now you claim she wasn't. Either way, you have a problem. If she had had an affair with anyone. Me, for example.” He smiled again as he crushed out his cigarette. “Or haven't you wondered why we were married so quickly, why, as you've already asked, I accept the child as my own?” He let that thought take hold before he continued. “If she had been unfaithful, the child could be anyone's. If she wasn't unfaithful, you haven't got a case.”

Lorraine clenched and unclenched her fingers on the arm of the chair. “My husband and I have every intention of determining the child's paternity. I would hardly take someone's bastard into my home.”

“Be careful,” Laura said, so quietly that the words seemed to vibrate in the air. “Be very careful, Lorraine. I know you have no concern for Michael as a person.”

Fighting for control she so rarely lost, Lorraine settled again. “I have nothing but the gravest concern for Tony's son.”

“You've never asked about him, what he looks like, if he's well. You've never demanded to see him, even a picture or a doctor's report. You've never once called him by name. If you had, if I'd seen in you one ounce of love or affection for the baby, I'd feel differently about what I'm about to say.” The courage came without the need to muster it. “You're free to draw up the papers and initiate a custody suit. Gabe and I have already notified our attorney. We'll fight you, and we'll win. And in the meantime, I'll go to the press with the story of what my life was like with the Eagletons of Boston.”

Lorraine's nails dug into the material on the arm of the chair. “You wouldn't have the nerve.”

“I have that and more when it comes to protecting my son.”

She could see it, the calm, unshakable determination in Laura's eyes. “Even if you did, no one would believe you.”

“But they would,” Laura told her. “People have a way of recognizing the truth.”

Lorraine's face was set when she turned to Gabe. “Do you have any conception of what this kind of gossip could do to your family name? Do you want to risk your reputation, your parents' reputation, over this woman and a child who isn't even of your blood?”

“My reputation can handle it, and, to be frank, my parents are looking forward to a fight.” There was a challenge in his voice now that didn't have to be feigned. “Michael may not be of my blood, but he's mine.”

“Lorraine.” Laura waited until they were face-to-face again. “You lost your son, and I'm sorry for you, but you won't replace him with mine. Whatever the cost to protect Michael's welfare, I'll pay. And so will you.”

Putting a hand under her arm, Gabe rose, keeping Laura beside him. “Your attorney can contact us once you've made your decision. Remember, Mrs. Eagleton, you're not pitting yourself against a lone pregnant woman. You're up against the Bradleys now.”

The moment they were in the hall, Gabe pulled Laura against him. He could feel the tremors coursing through her, so he held her a moment longer. “You were wonderful.” He kissed her hair before he drew her away from him. “In fact, angel, you were amazing. Lorraine still doesn't know what hit her.”

The flush of pride was as warm and satisfying as anything she'd ever felt. “It wasn't as bad as I thought,” she said with a sigh, but she kept her hand in his as they walked to the elevator. “I used to be so terrified of her, afraid to speak two words. Now I can see her for what she really is, a lonely woman trapped by her own strict sense of family honor.”

Gabe gave a quick, humorless laugh as the elevator doors opened. “Honor has nothing to do with it.”

“No, but that's how she sees it.”

“Tell you what.” He pressed the button for the lobby. “We're going to forget about Lorraine Eagleton for the rest of the day. In fact, we're going to forget about her completely before long, but for now there's a little restaurant a few blocks away. Not too quiet, and very expensive.”

“It's too early for dinner.”

“Who said anything about dinner?” He slipped an arm around her waist as they walked out into the lobby. “We're going to sit at a table over the water, and I'm going to watch everyone stare at my gorgeous wife while we drink a bottle of champagne.”

She loved him for that. Then her heart skipped a beat when he brought her fingers to his lips. “Don't you think we should wait to celebrate until Lorraine gives us her decision?”

“We'll celebrate then, too. Right now I want to celebrate being witness to an angel breathing fire.”

She laughed and walked outside with him. “I could do it again. In fact . . .”

“What?”

She swept her gaze up to his. “I'd like to.”