Beauty and the Feast (9 page)

Gabe had to take a piss, but he decided to wait until Eva fell into a deeper sleep, and he didn’t want to remove the ice bag from her forehead just yet. He wondered if it was even going to be possible with his hard-on. He nearly laughed when he thought about those commercials that said,
if you experience an erection lasting more than four hours, see your doctor.
Crap. He’d been uncomfortably erect since he’d laid eyes on her upturned rear-end in the parking lot. Gabe freed a hand and unzipped his jeans. He sighed with relief. Eva stirred momentarily. She murmured in her sleep and wrapped an arm around his waist, nestling deeper into his shoulder. Her hand was mere inches from the head of his swollen cock. Gabe shifted a little to give her more room. If this woman was going to touch him, by God, Gabe wanted her to know who she was touching and what. Besides, his self-control was hanging by a thread and he didn’t want to risk an accident. She might accidentally push him over the edge. Eva was vulnerable, but Gabe was no heel who took advantage of an injured woman, no matter how much he wanted her. No. If he was going to make love to her, when he made love to her, he wanted Eva awake, alert and responsive. Gabe tightened his arm around her shoulders. Whether she knew it or not, she would become a lot more than his little chef. Gabe groaned in anticipation. The food Eva prepared for him would be nothing compared to the taste of the woman herself.

Eva woke just after sunset. Her eyes felt gritty and there was something cold and wet smashed against her cheek. For a few moments, she couldn’t remember why she was in bed or why her knees were burning, why her palms felt raw or why her head hurt like hell. When she reached up to touch her forehead, she found a wet plastic bag filled with cold water stuck to the side of her face. As she peeled it away, her hands brushed against a hard male body lying next to her. Eva inhaled sharply. Gabriel Abbott. It hadn’t been a dream. She really had crashed on her bike near Domaine Chandon, and Gabe really had found her and brought her home on his motorcycle. He’d bathed her knees and her hands and put medicine on them, and he’d made an ice bag for her. He’d taken out her ponytail and he’d stripped off her clothes. Eva could feel her cheeks flame. She was surprised she didn’t catch her pillow on fire. She ran her hands slowly, cautiously, down her sides. She wore the boxers and old tee shirt she used for pajamas. Gabe had put those on her, she remembered now.

Moving carefully so as not to disturb the sleeping man, Eva reached between her legs, wondering if she’d maybe done something she didn’t remember, but as far as she could tell, she hadn’t. She wasn’t certain if she felt relief or disappointment, but she decided upon relief. If by some miracle of fate she ever did make love to Gabriel Abbott, she didn’t intend to be semi-comatose during the experience. Maybe afterwards, but not during.

Eva turned and studied Gabe’s face in the half-light. Jesus, he was beautiful. In sleep, his features relaxed, softened. A thick lock of chestnut brown hair fell across his brow in a gentle wave. He had the kind of hair a woman wanted to bury her hands in while she was fucking him. Eva felt herself blush again.

Although Gabe’s eyes were closed, Eva had gotten a good look at them in the sunlight at Domaine Chandon. They were a dark, deep, emerald green, wide set, with enchanting tiny laugh lines in the corners when he smiled. His nose was aquiline, his jaw strong and masculine, with a pronounced shadow beard that she could see despite the poor lighting. Eva suspected he hadn’t shaved since Friday morning. She was tempted to run her fingers along his cheek and down his jaw, but she didn’t dare take such liberties. Eva rolled her eyes. Liberties. He’d already stripped her naked for Christ’s sake.

Eva glanced at his mouth with longing, noting his full, sensuous lips. They were slightly parted in sleep and she wondered what he would taste like if she licked him. If she were to slide her tongue… Instead, Eva slid a bit farther away. She tried to remember when she had last been with a man, and she couldn’t come up with a date. It had been a very long time.

Eva’s eyes traveled the line of tendons down his neck and she gauged the width of his strong, broad shoulders. She saw that he’d crossed his arms over his chest. Her quilts were pulled up to his waist, covering what Eva knew to be a very significant piece of him. Her cheeks felt on fire again as she remembered how her fingers had accidentally brushed against his erection on the ride home. At least she thought it was an erection. She supposed it could have been a very big wallet stuck in a very unusual place.

As Eva looked at the man, she was struck by the notion that he must be quite strong, both in body and in mind. When she’d heard his voice in the parking lot and turned around, she’d been aware of an intensity, an energy in the air about him despite his grin. He seemed almost hungry, like he’d been starved at some point in time. Eva bet he was a man who didn’t take anything for granted. A man who worked hard, fought hard, played hard. Someone who didn’t suffer fools lightly. He reminded her of an intelligent, opportunistic, predator. A wolf. That’s what he reminded her of, the alpha male of the pack, the wolf who led the others on a hunt and established the pecking order. Gabe was definitely not the wolf left behind to baby sit the cubs, although Eva had to admit he’d done a pretty damn good job of babying her.

This was a first, Eva mused. She’d never before allowed a man into her bed. Oh, she wasn’t entirely inexperienced. She’d had sex, just not very often and never in her house.
Napa
wasn’t exactly hook-up city. She hadn’t been with a man since before she’d moved here, and when she’d lived in
San Francisco
, she’d made it a point to be cautious. According to her older brothers, every single man had one goal, and that goal was to get into a woman’s pants. Or under her skirt. They’d done their best to instill in her a healthy respect for her own body, even if they spent all their time trying to do exactly what they warned her about. It wasn’t that Eva was afraid of men, she wasn’t. She was picky. She liked to think she had discriminating taste. Not just any man would do. Watching Gabriel Abbott sleep, she knew without a doubt that he wasn’t just any man.

Eva slid out of bed, being careful not to wake Gabe. Her knees were stiff and sore, but she wanted to brush her teeth and she desperately needed a shower despite the fact that she knew it would sting. She felt about as grungy as she’d ever felt in her life. She tiptoed out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her.

The simple act of brushing her teeth had never felt so good. Eva turned the faucet and let the water warm up in the tub before she closed the shower curtain and switched on the shower. She decided she’d better go for lukewarm water, because hot and steamy, no matter how tempting, might be too harsh. She stepped into the tub carefully, keeping her back to the stream of water. Even so, Eva cringed when the water first hit her knees. Within a few minutes, the discomfort had subsided, and she washed her hair and scrubbed the sweat from her body. She took a good look at her knees and decided they weren’t so bad. She’d had worse over the years. It would be a pain to wear shorts to work all week and the scabs were going to be unsightly, but there wasn’t much she could do about it.

Eva climbed out of the tub and dried off. She smoothed her favorite lotion over everything, even the raw spots. The antibiotic ointment would have to wait until Gabe woke up. She didn’t know where he’d put the tube. She towel dried her hair and quickly braided it. The only clothes she’d brought into the bathroom were the boxers and the old tee shirt she’d been wearing, so she pulled them back on and padded into the kitchen. The least she could do was make Gabe something to eat. She assumed he’d eventually wake up and he’d be hungry. It would be nice to have something ready, to thank him for his help.

* * * *

Gabe woke to singing. The room he lay in was dark and it took him a moment to remember where he was. When he smelled Eva, he knew. Gabe reached for her, but the spot where she’d lain was empty. He leaned back on the pillows, crossing his arms behind his head, and listened. It was an old Bonnie Raitt song, one he’d always loved—Angel from
Montgomery
. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the music. At first he thought Eva had turned on a CD player, but after listening for a few moments, he realized that there were no instruments accompanying the singing voice. It was all Eva. When she finished the song, she launched into a raw rendition of Lowell George’s Dixie Chicken. Gabe found himself grinning. If Eva would be his Dixie Chicken and he would most definitely offer to be her Tennessee Lamb. Gabe reached down to make sure he was covered in case she happened into the bedroom. He was relieved to find that she had thrown a quilt over his open fly. Maybe he’d covered himself. His memory was pretty vague.

Eva must be feeling better or she wouldn’t be up and about, and singing her lungs out. Her singing voice kept a smile on his face. It was smoky, peaty, and right on key. She sounded exactly the way she sounded when he’d awakened her with his late night phone calls. Warm, cuddly, sexy as hell. Just as Gabe began to wonder what she was up to, his nose started twitching and his stomach began to growl. She was cooking. If his nose was right, she was making Reuben sandwiches. Shit, he hadn’t had a good Reuben since the last time he was in
Chicago
and he’d taken his sister and her family to a deli.

Gabe adjusted his jeans and made sure to zip them up before he climbed out of bed. He stepped into the hallway and looked for the bathroom. When he came out of the bathroom, he ran into Eva just coming to wake him. He took a look at her long legs as she approached and he noticed that she wasn’t quite as stiff as he expected her to be. Despite the scrapes on her knees, she moved with an athletic grace he found extremely appealing. She still wore the man’s boxers she’d slept in. They hung on her slender frame so she’d rolled the waistband several times to keep them up. The ragged tee shirt didn’t cover much. Light from the living room shone through the thin cotton, framing her narrow waist and the gentle flare of her hips. He felt himself stir at the sight of her erect nipples poking against the material. He decided to be polite and look at her face.

“How’s your head?” he asked, studying the bruise on her forehead. She’d pulled her dark red hair back and braided it.

“It’s all right,” Eva replied. “It’s just a bump.”

“And the knees?”

“Sore.” She shrugged. “They’ll be better by the end of the week. Gabe…” she began.

“Hmm?” Gabe raised his eyebrows and waited.

“Thank you. Thanks for bringing me home and cleaning me up. I’m… I’m… I have to admit, I’m more than a little embarrassed.”

Gabe felt his mouth twitch. “Why would you be embarrassed? Because I cleaned your cuts or because I stripped you naked and feasted my eyes on your beautiful body?”

Eva’s mouth opened and she sputtered for just an instant before she covered her flaming cheeks with her hands. Gabe heard a muffled, “Oh crap,” and he laughed.

Gabe took hold of her hands and he lifted them away from her face. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Eva. It was my pleasure. Truly. I would go so far as to say you are now in my top ten list of remarkable experiences.”

“Really?” Eva shot back, grinning now. “How high do I rank?”

Gabe ran a thumb across her luscious bottom lip. He heard her sharp intake of breath. “Number two, maybe.”

“Not number one?” she whispered.

“Give it time,” he teased, “I haven’t tasted you…yet.”

Eva lifted her chin. Gabe stared into her eyes, asking permission without saying a single word. He could see uncertainty warring with her strong desire to challenge him to do exactly what he threatened. Taste her. Everywhere. Starting with that delicious mouth of hers. He watched as Eva’s lips parted in anticipation, and he knew which side won. Before she could change her mind, Gabe slid a hand under her braid and he cupped the back of her head. He rubbed his lips against hers, as if testing the waters. Eva sighed softly in response, accepting him, but at the same time, Gabe felt one of her hands press firmly against his chest as if holding him at bay. For an instant, he didn’t know which part of her to listen to, but then her tongue flicked delicately over his lips and he shut his mind up and kissed her.

The moment Gabe’s lips touched hers, Eva felt like butter left too long in the hot summer sun. At the same time, a tiny voice in the back of her mind reminded her that she really didn’t know the man at all. She’d been in his home, even in his bedroom. She’d strolled his gardens, picked his herbs, cooked for him, tasted his wines. Yet she truly didn’t know a thing about the man. The idea of pushing him away flashed through her brain, but her body decided not to listen. Her body responded automatically to the delicate touch of his mouth against hers. Before she knew what she was doing, Eva had licked his lips. Gabe’s body replied instantaneously. In fact, he practically combusted. An arm slid around her waist and Eva found herself drawn firmly against his hard chest, while the hand at the base of her skull tilted her head back to allow Gabe easier access to her mouth.

Eva had been kissed, but not like this. Not by a man this hungry. Not ever. His tongue explored her mouth liberally, uninhibitedly. It tangled with her own, tasting her as if she were a rare wine. Without realizing it, Eva dug a hand into Gabe’s thick hair and pulled him even closer, while her other hand clung to his shoulder. Eva felt the wall behind her back as Gabe rubbed his long, hard length against her, the material of her boxers moving with him as he pressed himself against what Eva considered her sweet spot. Caught entirely off guard by the strength of her desire, she heard herself whimper, feeling helpless, pleading for more.