Someone To Watch Over Me (Harlequin Super Romance) (19 page)

BOOK: Someone To Watch Over Me (Harlequin Super Romance)
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“No. It’s fine.” Isabella picked up her fork, so the waitress flitted off to greet another customer.

Gabe peppered his eggs and doused his pancakes in syrup. He’d taken a few bites when he realized Isabella hadn’t moved a muscle. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather choose a different dish?” he asked after swallowing.

Guiltily, she cut through her waffle. “Sorry. I…it’s…uh, great. Thank you for letting me order it.”

She carried the fork to her lips, but as Gabe went back to his meal, he noticed that Isabella secreted the portion she’d cut in the folds of her paper napkin.

“Isabella,” he said softly. “Don’t apologize every time I ask a personal question. I sure as hell don’t want you eating something you can barely manage to look at.”

“I’m sorry.” She dropped her fork. A shadow of fear replaced the routinely dead expression in her eyes.

“Dammit, Isabella! Did Benito force you to clean your plate when you were little or something?” He closed his eyes, shocked by her sudden pallor. “Trade plates with me.” Opening his eyes, he made the switch. “My mission tonight is to see you put something in your stomach. Anything. Dammit, woman, you’ll keel over if you keep losing weight.”

Wordlessly, she accepted his plate and at once popped a bite of egg into her mouth. Her hand quivered, but her color seeped back little by little as Gabe dug into the frothy strawberries and cream.

Finally, after several seconds, she again attempted to take the blame. “I don’t recall strawberry waffles being so sweet. My stomach balked. Here, please, this is what
you
wanted. Take some bacon. Honestly, it’s too much for me.”

“Okay, but only if you promise to eat one piece and all the eggs.” Gabe stabbed the remaining slices of bacon. He couldn’t possibly know how Julian had made mealtimes an ordeal, how he’d harangued her and the kids. It was all about control, the shrink had told her, and that she did agree with.

She didn’t quite clean up all the scrambled eggs. “I’m full,” she announced. “Gabe, really, I have no appetite,” she said when he looked skeptical.

“You don’t want to faint during the trial.” He decided to try a new tack and appeal to the one thing that seemed to drive her very existence.

“Absolutely not. Okay. I’ll try to eat a little every day.”

Pushing the half-demolished waffle aside, Gabe folded his napkin and drained his coffee cup. As he dug out his wallet, he broached a topic that had been on his mind. “I skied some in Bend this past winter before I closed the SOS books on Summer’s ranch, so I got to know the place. How about if I book our rooms for the trial?”

He’d said rooms—plural—so Isabella had no reason to believe he had anything inappropriate in mind. “Would you do that? I’m not familiar with Bend at
all. I’d be grateful. But…arrange it so that we split the bill.”

An objection rose to the tip of his tongue, but Gabe bit it back. “No problem. Now if you’re finished and ready to leave, I wouldn’t mind running by the furniture store I told you about last night. They’re open until ten.”

“Sure. I meant to apologize for dashing off before we had a chance to look at your brochures.”

“You were not happy with me, if I recall. Isabella, do you ever raise your voice when you get mad?” he asked. “Even a little?” He opened the restaurant’s outer door and they emerged into the cooler night air.

Making a show of buttoning her sweater, Isabella acted as if she didn’t hear his question.

Gabe wasn’t buying it. “I thought as much,” he said, unlocking the passenger door. He waited until she’d slipped in, which in the SUV put her level with his eyes. “Try it next time someone irritates you. I’ll bet they think twice about intimidating you again.” He shut her door with a soft click.

He hadn’t expected her to respond. In fact, he just wanted to plant the seed. Under all her pain and grief, a vital, fiery woman lay dormant. Flashes of passion she didn’t even know she possessed were what had first attracted Gabe. That passion still attracted him and made him more determined than ever to hang around for the long haul.

The furniture store they drove to was indeed open; they walked in with twenty minutes to spare.

“Oh, will you look at that luscious leather sofa and chair.” Isabella homed in on the very set Gabe liked best. More satisfied than he had any right to be, he
followed her over and showed her a palette of available colors.

“Definitely this shade of nut-brown. Not the one with reddish hues. I can see this set arranged in front of a blazing fireplace.” She stroked the sample, and Gabe quite frankly found himself wishing she’d touch him instead. Her fingers were delicate but strong. He’d seen how compassionately they’d ministered to a sick lamb. And also their strength when she kneaded bread dough.

“I’ve always coveted leather,” she murmured. “Julian said it was too expensive. And that I’d let the kids ruin it. Which wasn’t true. He never allowed them in the living room with food, drinks or toys, anyway.”

“Didn’t he know leather lasts a lifetime? The salesman said they put a finish on it now that makes it easier to clean. One of the reasons this group appealed to me is because the stuff’s…I don’t know…bounceable? I mean, I walked in and could instantly visualize a bunch of kids dressed in pj’s playing on these fat cushions.”

“Are you saying this is the set you’re considering?”

“Yep. And you picked the color I favored, too. I just didn’t know if it’d be too dark for that oak-paneled room.”

“I don’t think so. Did you know there are fantastic hardwood floors under that ratty rug of John’s? If it were me, I’d buy an area rug in blacks and reds and rusts. The Paiutes weave some beautiful ones. Of course they’re expensive. But if you drove out to the reservation, you’d get a better deal, and maybe they’d make you matching sofa pillows.”

“I like that idea. I knew you’d have an eye for what I needed to give the house character.”

She blushed. “Oh, you probably shouldn’t listen to
me. I do have ideas but not one iota of training. Julian hired a design expert to do our house. After all, what do I know?”

He eyed her speculatively. “You have a house?”

“Not…not really. Technically it’s half mine. Julian’s parents plan to use his half of the money to help pay for his defense. They demanded I sell. Recently I relisted it, and already there’s a sale pending. I can’t bear to drive past—even drive down the street.”

Isabella shut her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “Gabe, do you remember the woman who stopped at the Green Willow and spoke to me the other night? Her fiancé made an offer on the house. I’ve gotta tell you why I bolted from the restaurant. She came to the bakery wanting me to do her wedding reception…there…at the house.” Her voice cracked. Taking a deep breath, Isabella sank down on the sofa. “I know the Realtor didn’t tell her…what ha-app-ened there. I’m not blaming the agency, but I can’t cater her reception. So I made up the first excuse that came into my head. I said I was meeting my boyfriend later, and that I expected him to give me a ring. I implied I’d be planning my own wedding for September. I’m so sorry, Gabe. Who would’ve dreamed she’d turn up at the Green Willow and assume you were my fictitious boyfriend?”

Gabe knelt in front of her. “If the circumstances weren’t so tragic, the incident itself would be humorous. Chances of that happening have got to be one in a million. So that’s why you ran out like a bat out of hell. Jeez, why didn’t you say something? I’d have played along.”

“Lies always catch up to a person. I want you to know I went to confession and was given penance.”

“Penance? Hmm. Will they take it back and give you brownie points if I put a ring on your finger?” he teased.

“Gabe! Don’t make fun of something I take seriously. I’ve always been scrupulously honest. And like I told Trini, Julian’s defense team would love to dig up some dirt on me. I shouldn’t even be out with you this late. If someone in his family should see us, they’d blow it way out of proportion.”

“Why? You and Julian were divorced before he went nuts.”

“You don’t understand.”

“No?”

“It doesn’t matter. Could you take me back to Callanton?”

“Sure,” he said, helping her up from the soft couch. “But since we’re here, could you spare me ten more minutes? I see that the salesman I spoke with last week has finished with his other customer. I may as well buy this while I’m here. Otherwise I risk having it sold out from under me.”

“You’re buying it tonight? The entire set?”

He chuckled. “Yes. I just needed your opinion. You agreed with me, so why drag my feet? You haven’t suddenly changed your mind, have you?”

“No. But, Gabe, what if you take my word, and spend an indecent amount of money only to discover everyone else hates how it looks in your house?”

“Everyone who? It’s my house.”

“Everyone like…whatever woman you marry. You said you’ve decided it’s time to settle down and start a family. That process usually begins with marriage.”

Gabe shook his head. She really didn’t have a clue that he’d fallen for her. He’d turned his life up
side down to be near her, and she didn’t have a God-damned clue.

It was probably a good thing the salesman rushed up right then, or Gabe might have blown any chance he had with Isabella by blurting the truth. Instead, he filled out the forms, signed the credit slip and gave directions for delivery. He’d obviously put too much store in that last kiss he’d given her. Man, was he arrogant, assuming she’d get the message on the basis of a couple of kisses.

He didn’t doubt that the guys would rib him unmercifully about losing his touch. They used to call him Cool Hand Gabe for the phenomenal luck he had with women. That was probably all it had been, too. Luck. Obviously he needed to revise his methods to make any headway with Isabella.

Damn. She was the only woman who counted. The only one he wanted to impress.

Gabe unlocked her door and boosted her up into the Lexus. As he stuck his copy of the receipt between his teeth in order to steady her with both hands, she said, “This is probably tacky, but I’ve never met anyone who visited a furniture store twice, then—just like that—bought a whole living room full of top-of-the-line stuff. The people I know comparison shop.”

“Really? Don’t forget to buckle up.” He whistled an off-key tune as he walked around the hood. He felt as if he’d accomplished something tonight. When he climbed in, before he fired the engine, he conferred with Isabella over trying another CD. They eventually agreed on a U2 album recorded the year the group came out of retirement.

“Has Papa talked to you about how much time and money it takes to build an income-producing flock of
sheep? I thought I’d ask, as you seem bent on throwing your money around.”

“We discussed the prices wool and mohair topped out at this past shearing season. Benito said domestic demand for wool is up. I got the impression Angel and Louis would like to double the goat herd and add dairy goats, but Joe’s adamantly opposed.” Gabe turned down the music as they left the city lights behind. He wanted to hear what a knowledgeable bystander had to say on the subject.

“Mountain lions in these parts consider goat a delicacy. That’s one reason Joe’s against expanding the herd.”

“Yeah, but red fox prey on lambs. So that’s one reason. What’s another?”

Isabella lowered the music even more. “I’m sure if you asked Joe, he’d tell you. Our range, as well as Angel and Louis’s, currently run the maximum stock advisable to maintain healthy animals. Papa wants to buy more pastureland. To do that, he’d have to second-mortgage the house. Joe’s afraid Papa’s age makes such a big loan inadvisable.” She held up a hand when Gabe started to interrupt. “I already know what you’re going to ask. What about leasing more government-held space?”

“It is logical, given how long it takes to build high-peak production.”

“Yes, but ranchers have quotas for leased lands. I don’t know the formula, but they’re calculated in part on acres owned. Without expanding their current holdings, none of them can bump up their leased portions.”

“So, the only ways this operation can increase profits is to run more efficiently, gain higher output of wool and mohair from existing flocks, or add land.”

She nodded. “And the market fluctuates wildly from year to year.”

“Your family’s been honest with me about the volatility of the industry. The extent of their knowledge is amazing. Me, I think I’ve learned to tell the difference between the Romanovs and the Rambouillets. And that’s about all.”

“Yet you still come back day after day. I couldn’t believe it when Joe said you’d quit your job with SOS.”

“Talk about volatility. That agency depends entirely on the largesse of benefactors. Today, those creatures are scarcer than the rarest breed of sheep and goats.”

“Gabe, where are we?” Isabella leaned forward to peer out the front windshield.

“Nearly home, why?”

“I left my van in Callanton. It’s parked in front of Mr. Crosley’s office.”

“Damn, I forgot. Well, it’s too late to turn back. I’ll collect you in the morning and give you a lift to town.”

“We could go back now.”

“Doesn’t make much sense. We’re two minutes from home.”

“So we are.” She sighed. “Stop here. I’ll hike to the house.” Unfastening her seat belt, she gathered her purse and her pads of notes.

Gabe dealt her a look Isabella was beginning to recognize. “I’ve never thrown a date out in the middle of the road,” he said. “And I don’t intend to start now.”

“This wasn’t a date.” She felt heat stinging her cheeks. “Oh—did I forget to thank you for feeding me earlier?”

He turned into her drive, stopping well away from the light that spilled from the porch lamp. “Thanks
aren’t necessary, but I won’t turn down a good-night kiss.”

Before she was able to find a comeback, Gabe bounded out and around the SUV. Yanking open the passenger door, he tumbled her into his waiting arms.

If possible, this kiss took more starch out of her legs than the previous one. There was a roaring in her ears, and Isabella completely lost her grip on her purse. Her notepads slipped from her hands, as well. Something struck her foot, but she couldn’t identify what because her legs and feet had gone numb. With her hands freed, she grabbed Gabe’s shirtfront, and hung on for dear life.

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