Someone To Watch Over Me (Harlequin Super Romance) (24 page)

They were interrupted by the waiter and quickly ordered their meals—chicken for him, salmon for her.

“Gabe, I’m really sorry Rick’s acting like such an ass.” She poured them each more wine.

Taking her hand, he toyed with her fingers and was grateful she didn’t pull away. “If I had a sister, Isabella, I’d probably be worse than Rick.”

“I believe so. If I was in any position to be more than friends with a man, Gabe, well…” she cast down her lashes and blushed. “I’d pick you,” she blurted.

Astonished, he groped for words that wouldn’t slide past the clog in his throat. Luckily, their meals were delivered, and they spent the next hour eating and getting to know more about each other. He found out Isabella liked poker.

She learned he’d visited places in the world where
she’d traveled only in books. Gabe had such a vivid way of describing them, she believed she’d step out of the restaurant and find herself somewhere exotic. A place with white sandy beaches and swaying palms.

It was the most relaxed either of them had been in a while. They lingered over the last of the wine. Finally, since neither wanted coffee, they had no choice but to leave.

Isabella slid her arm through Gabe’s as they sauntered through the crisp cool night. He paused, drew her beneath a pine, and kissed her softly. They kissed quite a few times before they all but fell, panting, through the front door. “Your perfume drives me wild,” he admitted, licking his way from her ear and down her neck.

“Likewise,” she murmured, shedding her coat, uncaring that it hit the floor even as she swayed forward seeking another of his lethal kisses. Her hands busily untied his tie. “You must own stock in a tie company. Do you know they all match your eyes?”

“A tie is a tie is a tie,” he murmured.

Isabella’s shoes hit the floor, one after the other. She dispensed with them at the same moment she slid her hands between Gabe’s shirt and his jacket, which rapidly landed on the carpet, followed by his loafers and then his shirt.

Catching her hands, he walked her backward to his bedroom, all the while running a row of wet kisses from her ear to the round neck of her little black dress. Her zipper slid down with a hiss as he tumbled her onto his wide, soft bed. This time the hiss escaped Gabe’s parted lips as the silk dress slithered between them, exposing Isabella’s creamy skin and a nothing of a black bra.

She wiggled out of the dress. Then as he watched with blue eyes turning silver in the shaft of moonlight streaking across the bed, she slowly peeled off her sheer black panty hose.

He’d rolled to the side, allowing her room to complete her mission. He felt his heart slam up into his throat. When it dropped back, it beat in four-four time. Parts of his brain went numb with wanting her. He heard the snick of his belt buckle, and before every shred of good sense failed him, Gabe pulled her against his chest and asked in a roughened voice, “If this isn’t leading all the way down the path, stop me now. Otherwise I don’t think I can be responsible. But…I’m not prepared.”

“Shh. I have an IUD.” She wedged a space between them and covered his lips with two trembling fingers. “Don’t talk. Don’t think. Just…do.”

Gabe was ready. More than ready. And she’d extended all the invitation he needed. He stripped off what remained of his clothes, only taking time to make sure Isabella was equally ready.
She certainly was.
Yet she looked so beautiful and so fragile lying there in the center of his massive bed. Imbued by a rush of tenderness, he bore most of his considerably greater weight on his arms as he entered her little by little by little. Even though his arms shook and sweat plastered his dark hair to his brow, Gabe maintained that position until he felt her open, submit fully and cry out in pleasure. He rolled off her then, letting her set the pace for what followed.

For several hours, the world receded as Gabe tasted the passion he’d always believed Isabella was capable of giving. And she gave without reservation, filling his heart with a joy greater than he’d ever known.

T
HE SUNLIGHT WOKE
I
SABELLA
.
She lay still a moment, disoriented and unsure of her surroundings. A strange but pleasant lethargy weighted her body, making it oh-so-tempting to nod off to sleep again.

Beside her the mattress dipped and shook a little. Suddenly, a shadow loomed above her, blocking the ribbon of sun. A man’s chest pressed against her back. Isabella screamed.

“Whoa! Whoa, there.” A scratchy masculine voice sent her diving frantically for the sheet, which had slipped to her waist.

Julian? Oh, God!
For a panicked moment she fought to untangle her limbs.
Where was her nightgown? Gone!
Fear slammed through her as Isabella discovered she was naked.

“Isabella, stop! What is it? Are you having a nightmare?”

Gabe, groggy himself from a long night of making love, rolled toward her and attempted to soothe her with gentle hands. He strung soft kisses along the pulse thundering in her neck. Feeling her flesh jump crazily under his lips left Gabe hard, and left him wanting her all over again.

Practically tearing the sheet from the bed, Isabella moved back against the headboard. Once again large
hands reached for her. A gruff but imploring voice asked what was wrong.

Gabe. Gabe. Not Julian. He hadn’t come back to torment her.
Dropping her head onto her knees, Isabella tucked them against her chest. She moaned as memories of a long, passionate night washed over her. “I’m sorry. Gabe, I’m so sorry.” Lifting her head, she stared at his unshaven morning face. His thick, dark hair was endearingly spiked.

“Stop apologizing, dammit. If you and I remotely felt the same last night, there’d be no damned need for the word
sorry
to pass between us.” Gabe flung off the rest of the sheet and stalked around the bed to face her.

She blanched. Last night she’d only felt Gabe’s fitness as they rolled and tumbled across his bed. In daylight, his sculpted body, tanned except for a pale narrow strip starting low on his hips, left her mouth dry and her throat parched. “I’m…sorry,” she breathed, unable to help herself.

He threw up his hands and strode to the window, where he stood with one arm braced against the frame to support his forehead. He said nothing, but the rigid muscles of his back shouted his feelings clearly enough.

“I’m not in the habit of waking up with a man in my bed,” she said by way of explanation. “I don’t know what’s…correct.”

He turned and drilled her with smoldering eyes. “A good morning kiss would’ve been nice.”

She ran a hand through her heavy, disheveled hair. “What time is it? Court convenes at nine.”

Gabe bent his head and stared through the door at
the kitchen clock. “If that clock’s right, it’s ten to eleven.”

“What?” she shrieked, bounding off the bed. “My Lord, it is.” She’d found her watch among the folds of her black dress and discarded underwear. “Why didn’t you set an alarm?”

His slow sexy smile shook her. “The last time we made love, the clock said 4:00 a.m. Getting up—getting any part of me up—after that seemed a remote possibility.”

Not responding to his provocative remark, she began to frantically gather her clothing. “If we hurry, we can be there for start of afternoon session. I’ll shower first.”

“Why don’t we shower together and say to hell with the session?” Crossing the room, he lifted her, the sheet and the clothes she’d collected, and swung her around.

“Quit it, Gabe.” She sounded so stern, he set her down at once.

“Last night was—” She broke off as his bright blue eyes narrowed.

“Go on.” He crossed his arms. “Last night was…what?”

She angled her chin upward. “A result of too much stress. Too much wine after worrying about Christina. Speaking plainly—last night was a mistake, Gabe.”

He wasn’t able to cloak his pain fast enough. He recoiled as if she’d slapped him. Indeed, it felt as if she had. Reeling from the blow, he kicked the bedspread aside and searched for his suit pants and shirt. “Last night you began as a bundle of nerves. If you continue to sit in court day after day, you’re gonna self-destruct.”

“I thought I’d made it clear. Nothing is more important than this trial. Nothing.”

“Yes. Well, the outcome’s going to be the same whether you kill yourself over it or not.”

“Julian has to pay. With prison time. I want him sentenced to a hundred years.” Her face was white, her eyes stark, burning holes. “I thought you understood me.”

Gabe yanked on his pants and gentled his tone. “One way or another, they’re locking the bastard up, Isabella.” He zipped his pants and slung his shirt around his neck. “Asylums aren’t exactly the Ritz, you know.”

“Javier and Elena chose a private sanitarium. It’s like a resort. I won’t have him lounging his life away among the birds and flowers. Antonia loved flowers. Julian took all that away. I hate him. I hate him.” She clutched her clothing to her heaving breast. Her dark eyes were bottomless, and a bit wild.

“Isabella, hate is eating you alive. Listen to me. You’re not going to heal yourself until you dig deep inside and forgive the man who’s caused you pain.”

“
Forgive
him? That’s blasphemy.” She was shaking all over. “If I live to be a thousand I’ll never, ever forgive that man. A parent should protect his children from harm. Julian used them to punish me. I asked the family court judge not to give him unsupervised visitations. They didn’t listen. I knew he was mean and manipulative. No one would listen. Well, I’ll make them listen now. I’ll
make
them listen.”

If Gabe had ever doubted that Julian Arana was a bastard, a man who’d subtly abused his wife, he doubted no more. “I understand what you feel. I’ve sort of been there, Isabella. Not to this extent…but I
know what it’s like to hate. It can emotionally cripple you. Forgiving someone who hurts you isn’t easy. It’s tough. Damned tough. But I’m here to tell you, your life will stall where it is now if you don’t get past the betrayal.”

“If I wanted psychobabble, I’d go to a shrink.”

“Maybe you should,” Gabe said. “They make you see—”

“Get out! You’d no idea what I’m feeling. My heart is bleeding inside. Go. I never want to see you again.”

“Isabella…” He said quietly, tentatively.

“Go. I’ll phone Rick or Joe or Louis to come get me.”

Because Gabe feared he might have pushed her too far, too fast, he yanked his things from the closet, jammed them in his suitcase and after one last worried glance at her, he pressed his key into her limp hand. “The rent on the cottage is paid for a month. Get someone in your family to stay with you when they start the trial.” Brushing a light kiss on her hair, Gabe made sure she’d come out of her catatonic state before he left.

Feeling anger spewing up from her toes, Isabella pitched the key across the room and knew satisfaction when it bounced off the wall. How dared he counsel her to forgive a man as purely evil as Julian! Who was Gabe, anyway? What gave him the right to spout off to her about forgiveness?

It was a question that nagged her on the cab ride to the courthouse. And bothered her enough to sow seeds of doubt during the trip back to Callanton with Joe, who’d come to take her home for the weekend.

“What happened to Gabe? Manny was pretty sure he said he’d be able to attend the rest of the jury se
lection process with you. But then, Manny’s been a head case lately.” Joe grinned the Navarro grin. “You’d think Christina was the only woman in the world who ever delivered a baby. Sorry, I had to say that. So, what’s with Gabe?”

“Something came up.” Isabella curled into a corner of Joe’s truck.

“You seem depressed, Bella. On TV, that prosecutor fellow acted real happy over who’s gonna be on the jury.”

“Hayden managed to seat three more women. He says that’s significant. Joe…has Gabe said anything about his background any time the two of you have talked?”

“Nothing that I recall. He’s a good sport. Catches on to things fast. He’s generous. I say that because of the lease terms he gave Papa and me on his pastures. He could’ve asked a lot more. Why? He say something to make you doubt him?”

She shrugged listlessly. “No.” She didn’t want to tell Joe about the blow-up she’d had with Gabe. Being an older brother, he might think he had to defend her. But judging by the way he scowled at her now, she needed to give him some other reason. “The other day Rick said we didn’t know beans about Gabe. Not where he came from or why he suddenly appeared. Or why a
maketo
would buy land in a Basque community.”

“I guess technically he is a stranger.” Joe scratched an ear. “Gabe’s savvy enough about land to know that the only other good piece that’s been on the market was the Forked Lightning. His buddy, Colt, waltzed off with that prize. Say, if you want to check up on Gabe, talk to Quinn. Sounds as if they’ve been friends a long time.”

“Hmm. Maybe. So tell me about our new niece. Is she as cute as Manny claims?”

G
ABE HAD
beaten Isabella to the punch. As she rode home with her brother, he sat, pouring his guts out over coffee in Summer Quinn’s kitchen. Summer’s son Rory was visiting Jesse Cook, a Paiute rancher who lived beyond the open range circling the Forked Lightning. Tracey Jackson, Marley’s nephew and Summer’s cattle manager, was off moving a herd to greener pastures. Summer’s housekeeper and her husband had gone to Callanton for groceries.

“Everyone thinks I’m too pregnant to leave the house,” Summer said, pouting just a little. “They can’t seem to get it through their heads that I’m barely four months along.” She set a mug full of coffee in front of Gabe and took the seat across the table from him.

“Four months?” That news jolted Gabe out of his own preoccupation.

“Bullpucky. Now I’ve shocked you. Coltrane will probably have my head.”

“Isabella says that in place of swearing. She must’ve picked it up from you. Oh, you didn’t shock me, Summer. I think it’s cool. Colt’s gonna make a fantastic dad.”

Summer slouched in her chair. She rubbed her belly, part of which was exposed only because she could no longer snap her jeans. “Do I detect a sad note somewhere in that statement?”

Gabe cracked the knuckles on his left hand. Something he’d stopped doing after the Marine Corps shrink got hold of him. “I’ll probably never have what Colt’s found here with you, Summer.”

“Why not?” She blew on her tea. She’d served
Gabe strong black coffee, but for the sake of her baby, she’d begun drinking herbal teas. “I happen to know John Campos’s ranch is prime grassland. We hear you’re going great guns renovating his house, too. Not that we heard it from
your
lips, my friend.”

“Yeah. I’ve been kinda busy. I wasn’t referring so much to the Forked Lightning itself, Summer, but to you and Rory—and this new baby.” He shrugged. “That’s unfamiliar territory to me.”

“Coltrane said you had a crappy childhood.” Summer pressed a sympathetic hand briefly to Gabe’s wrist.

“Crappy sums it up, though I’m not complaining. It’s more the other stuff I envy. Good folks, a loving wife. Kids,” he said bleakly.

“If you went to town occasionally, you might find a woman who’d be a loving wife.”

“Isabella is so consumed with hatred for her ex, I wonder if she’ll ever open herself up to love.”

“Isabella?” Summer’s eyebrows shot up. “Gabe! I did warn you at the wedding reception. You didn’t listen to a word I said, did you?”

He shook his head, staring miserably into the black depths of his coffee. “Her family hasn’t been able to attend court with her during the jury selection over in Bend. They wanted to, but that freak hailstorm left them all in a bind. You probably know how it is with sheep and orchards.”

“So you’ve been going with Isabella?”

“I rented a cottage at a gated resort. So she wouldn’t be bugged by reporters. Last night we, uh…she, uh…today we had a big row. She tossed me out of her life.”

“Ah. But you two—I mean, she let you get close
enough to…to…” Summer groped for polite words to ask if they’d shared a bed.

“Dammit, that’s not news a guy wants blabbed around. Not if he cares about the woman.”

Summer smiled. “Why, Gabe. I believe you’ve fallen in love with my friend.”

“For all the good it does.” Planting his elbows on his knees, he scrubbed his face hard with both hands.

“Did you tell her?”

“Like she’d listen.” He shook his head. “She said she never wanted to see me again.”

“You dope. All women want to know they’re loved. Especially by the man they, uh, let into their bed.”

He just kept shaking his head.

“Then what you have to do is show Izzy how much you care. It’ll have to be something grand, I think. Could you maybe skywrite
I love you
over top of the courthouse? Or spread ten million rose petals from your bed to hers.”

“Yeah, sure. I try that and her brother Rick will draw and quarter me.”

“I was kidding.” Summer fluffed a hand through the air. “I forgot she’d moved home. Well, you get the idea. I’m sure you’ll think of the perfect gesture, Gabriel. Hey, do you want to stay for dinner? Colt’s due home in an hour. Maybe he’ll come up with a better plan.”

“I would stay, but I have to run a check over to my contractor’s office so he can bank it tonight. He’s ready to buy my kitchen cabinets. Going without cabinets wasn’t an issue when I thought I’d be staying in Bend another week or so.”

“Okay, but don’t be a stranger. I hope you don’t
mind my telling Colt. We promised not to keep secrets from each other.”

“That’s good. Secrets can be as damaging to a relationship as hate.”

Summer walked him to his SUV and bestowed a sisterly good-luck kiss.

Gabe mulled over Summer’s suggestion on the way into town. He had doubts about some off-the-wall romantic gesture carrying any weight with Isabella. And stuff like that wasn’t really him. His off-the-wall years were far in the past.

It was after Gabe had delivered the check to his contractor’s office in Callanton that he chanced across an opportunity. A For Sale sign stuck in a plot of ground adjacent to the city park had caught Gabe’s eye. Asking around, he discovered it was less than half the size of a city lot. Even the bank manager who had the lot for sale said it wasn’t really buildable. It had come to him in lieu of a bad debt.