Cursed by Love (16 page)

Before she turned away, he reached out.
“Wait.” He pulled one flower from the bouquet and tucked it behind her ear,
brushing a light kiss across her lips. “Now, that’s beautiful.

Blushing again, she stuttered over a
thank you and resisted the urge to do the he-loves-me-loves-me-not petal test.
She turned with the bouquet and took the moment to get a grip as she arranged
it in a vase.

 The effort he’d made on his
appearance and the thoughtfulness that went into bringing her flowers worked in
making her even more attracted to him. More attracted than she’d been after the
Volkswagen foreplay they’d shared on Wednesday. And that was saying a lot.

The Volkswagen scenario had been basic
chemistry at work. But this emotional response to these sweet and simple
gestures shook her, lifting them beyond heated friction to something else.
Something more tempting than sex. Or something more tempting than
just
sex, anyway.

Molly knew little about automobiles, but
she stopped and gaped at the one parked in her driveway. “What a darling car,”
she said as he opened the door for her. “My dad would love this.” She stopped
and looked at him sideways. “It must be worth a fortune.”

“It is.” He chuckled, understanding her point.
“It’s a vintage Porsche, and it belongs to my friend, Max. He bought it as a
burned-out shell about three years ago and completely restored it. He’ll kill
me if I take it back tomorrow with as much as a squished bug on the
windshield.”

 When Gabe climbed behind the wheel
of the classic car, she noticed that his socks had happy little Mickey and
Minnie
Mouses
in tango, jitterbug, and waltz poses
dancing across a dark background. Nothing too obvious or noticeable, but a
whimsical touch of what she’d come to think of as the ‘real’ Gabe, the one
beneath the buttoned-down exterior.

“When I got dressed, I wondered if you’d
be picking me up on your Harley.”

He laughed. “I’d love to take you for a
ride on my Harley.” The way he said it made the idea sound exciting. And a
little bit dirty. “But it didn’t seem right for tonight.”

She gulped, and mentally fanned her
face. “I haven’t seen you drive anything else. Do you own a car?”

“Not anymore,” he said. “I sold it when
we started the company. Sierra needed a handicap-accessible van, and I’d rather
ride than drive anyway.”

She loved the way he made the gesture
out to be personal preference rather than a help to his sister.

“In general, maybe, but what about rain
and snow and other bad weather?”

“Granddad or other family members have
cars I drive sometimes. Have you been on a bike before? It’s not for
everybody.”

“I’ve ridden a few times,” Molly said.
“I love it, but it seems more like a special treat than everyday
transportation.”

“I spend so much time working, I don’t
get to ride with my motorcycle club much anymore. It’s a shame to let a good
bike sit. At least riding it as transportation gives me the chance to take it
out on the highway occasionally.”

“What motorcycle club do you belong to?”

“The Good Riders.”

She nodded as he said the name,
realizing she should have guessed. “You ride to benefit local causes or
charities. They sponsored a ride last year to raise money for one of the
students at my school who needed a heart transplant.”

“McKenzie Lawson?” he asked. “I rode on
that one. I hear she’s doing great.”

“She is. She’s back in school and the
money the Good Riders raised made a huge difference in providing the kind of
care she needed. Thank you.”

“My pleasure, believe me. Riding and
raising money for kids in need are two of my favorite things.”

“All the teachers promoted the ride and
worked the day of, to help coordinate. It was a wonderful event. Everyone from
the club was great, and watching all of you ride off together was an amazing
sight.” Molly wondered if she’d seen him or talked to him that day.

“Too bad I didn’t know you then. You
could have ridden with me.”

Her skin tingled at that thought. “I
would have liked that.”

“I’ll take you sometime, but for
tonight, I thought we should make a more subdued arrival.”

The rest of the way to the restaurant,
their conversation covered work, the weather, and the news of the day. To her
surprise, he focused solely on her and his driving and wasn’t interrupted by a
single call.

She’d been certain he’d have a comment or
two about the Volkswagen
Interruptus
of the night
before, or pressure her about the fate of the Sleeping Lotus. But no. So far
nothing but charming conversation and gentlemanly behavior, including
guiding his hand on her back and the chivalrous opening of doors.

He kept their destination a surprise
until they arrived at The Riverside—her favorite restaurant. One generally out
of her price range and saved for very special occasions.

Was it chance that led him to make
reservations here, or a deeper, symbiotic connection that had them operating on
the same wavelength?
She’d pictured him taking her someplace more casual, less expensive. Less
romantic.

Inside, the hostess seated them by a
window with an almost magical view of the Ohio River, streaked orange and pink
from the setting sun. The lights of the Cincinnati skyline winked on across the
water, giving the city an enchanting glow.

Molly smiled at Gabe as the waiter shook
out her napkin and draped it across her lap. Crisp linens and fresh roses on
the table added richness to the ambience. But the quality that made everything
perfect was having Gabe seated across from her, attentive, attractive, his knee
brushing hers.

The flicker of candlelight added intriguing
shadows to the planes of his face. His eyes and teeth flashed her way while
they discussed the entrees. They both chose the Chilean Sea Bass, lobster
mashed potatoes, and asparagus tips. The perfect wine completed the
movie-perfect meal.

“You look wonderful.” After the waiter
had left with their orders, she realized she couldn’t stop staring at Gabe. She
couldn’t keep her eyes off him, noticing everything from the sensual efficiency
of his hand movements to the more obvious roll of his strong shoulder and arm
muscles shifting beneath his jacket.

“So do you. Did I mention that before?”

“Yes, you did. Thank you.” She warmed to
the flattery. “Great suit, by the way.”

“From my days at P&G.” He dismissed
the subject with a shrug. “I had to dig deep into the closet to locate one.”

“You worked at P&G?” Her voice
elevated with surprise. Conservative was written all over him. But the
independence of running his own company suited him so well, she couldn’t quite
picture him in a corporate setting. “When?”

“A lifetime ago.”

After the wine and then their salads
arrived, he introduced the topic of the day. “Tell me more about Grandma Bella
and Grandpa
Jebediah
. We never did get back to that
on Wednesday.”

She smiled, eager to comply. “Besides
the scrapbook, I struck pure gold when I located Bella’s letters to her
sister.”

His hands stalled in the act of
buttering a roll. “The one who raised your great-grandmother?”

“Yes, her name was Rose. She was a noted
beauty, but very shy and the exact opposite of Bella. She married young and
kept scrapbooks and photo albums about her famous sister. The two of them
shared confidences, exchanging letters whenever they were apart. In fact, she
was keeping Bella’s baby daughter, Clarice, when Bella died. Rose adopted and
raised her.”

“That was a pretty common scenario,
wasn’t it? People frequently ended up raising the children of relatives in
those days.” He sniffed and swirled his wine before taking a sip.

“True. As a teacher, I see it happen a
lot, even today.”

“How did Bella end up marrying someone
else so soon after the end of her flashy engagement to
Jebediah
?”

Molly finished off the last olive from
her salad and put down her fork, eager to tell the tale. “At the famous
betrothal party,
Jebediah
announced that Bella would
give up her career when she became his wife. In a letter to Rose, Bella said
they’d never discussed such a thing, and she never intended to stop
performing.”

With the
reappearance of the waiter, Molly sipped her wine and waited. An assistant
server took away their salad plates and the waiter deposited their entr
é
es.

“And then what?” Gabe asked. “Did
Jebediah’s
chauvinism cause Bella to break off the
engagement?”

 “
Jebediah
believed the Sleeping Lotus was chock full of erotic physical powers. I read something
along those lines in one of the research books too. But apparently, he was told
that as long as the pieces were together, whoever owned it would experience a
powerful attraction and...” She groped for an appropriate euphemism. 
“...impressive staying power.” She twirled her charm bracelet on her wrist. “I
don’t know what his motives were. Maybe he didn’t want Bella trying her luck
with someone else, or maybe he needed the boost. After the engagement party, he
took half the Sleeping Lotus home with him, saying they would merge the two
pieces when the two of them were man and wife.”

 Gabe winked, clearly amused. “The
Chinese version of a chastity belt for her and Viagra for him.”

“Possibly.” Molly blushed, remembering
the attraction she’d felt for Gabe the night of the taping. “A few days later,
they quarreled bitterly and broke off the engagement.”

“So they were happy together until they
were given the Lotus and separated the halves.” Gabe twisted his handsome mouth
with the skepticism she’d come to expect.

“Whatever the reason, Bella was
devastated.” Echoes of their pain had wrenched Molly’s heart when she’d read
Bella’s letters. She shook off the memory and resumed relaying their relatives’
history.

“Soon after that,
Jebediah
wrote to her, asking her to forgive him. He hadn’t understood how much singing
meant to her. He said he hoped she would reconsider, but even if she wouldn’t,
if she would meet with him just one last time, he’d return his part of the
Sleeping Lotus as a gesture of goodwill.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Gabe said.

Molly pulled her notes from her purse.
She blinked to keep Gabe from seeing her teary reaction to the old tragedy.
“Not at all. It’s really sad. I quote, ‘Just like the two pieces of jade we
possess, may our hearts beat forever as one.’”

“The old dog. He intended to seduce her
into coming back to him, with the help of the Sleeping Lotus and some...
impressive staying power.”

“Yeah, but get this.” Molly shrugged
with a bit of a smile. “
Jebediah’s
letter was dated
March 22, 1910. The newspaper account of his death appeared the next day.”

“So we don’t know if they managed to
reconcile their differences or not, do we?”

Molly flicked through the charms on her
bracelet, disappointed that he couldn’t or wouldn’t see the story’s underlying
romance. “Bella believed he was on his way to meet her when he was killed.” She
gave a knowing nod. “While the two pieces of the Sleeping Lotus were
separated.”

He didn’t quite snort. “And she was so
heartbroken that she immediately married someone else and had a child with
him.”

Molly sprang to Bella’s defense. “When
she wrote a few months later to tell her sister about her quiet wedding to her
manager Henry
Bittberg
, she says that she’d had a
‘close’ relationship with him before her whirlwind and tumultuous romance with
Jebediah
. His death shattered her, but Henry was warm and
supportive and wanted to marry her.” Molly imagined the circumstances that
could make a woman change allegiances so quickly in a time of grief. “I think
she felt safe with him. Their relationship didn’t have the passion of her
relationship with
Jebediah
, but it didn’t have the
heartache either. And he certainly understood her need to perform, and
maintained an interest in her career, unlike
Jebediah
who opposed it.”

Gabe didn’t quite curl his lip in
disdain, but he looked doubtful. “Sounds plausible.”

“Doesn’t it?” Molly gave him a big
smile. “And that, my friend, is what they call provenance.”

“Hey, that’s right!” Gabe clinked his
wineglass to hers with an answering grin. “Congratulations, Molly! You did it.
Now we can sell the outrageous thing to the highest bidder.”

Molly bit her lip to keep from arguing
with him. With the evening off to such a promising start, she didn’t want to
ruin their dinner. But she couldn’t hide her hesitation.

“You’re still reluctant, aren’t you?”
Gabe leaned in and covered her hand with his. “The pieces were meant to be
together. Remember, Bella said even
Jebediah
agreed
about that. If not for his untimely death, he would have rejoined them.”

She turned her hand up, so that their
palms met and fingers entwined, forming a link between them where their pulses
beat in synchronization. “True, but it’s such a sentimental piece with so much
history attached for both our families, and who knows how many others through
the centuries?”

Gabe’s jaw hardened in the candlelight
and his fingers closed around hers. “I can’t afford sentiment. I have too many
people depending on me, Molly. At least consider selling it, please.”

The pleading almost undid her. She
doubted that he often asked anyone for help. She doubted he liked doing it now.
To refuse him point blank would be premature. It would ruin their evening and
whatever attraction was building between them. “You know I’m considering it.”

Uncomfortable silence camped out at
their table. Molly attempted to ignore the tension that kept Gabe stiff and
aloof. Understandably, he needed the money from the sale of the Sleeping Lotus,
but who couldn’t use some extra cash? Why was the money the most important
thing to him? She finished off her Sea Bass with a sigh.