To Have and to Hold (9 page)

Swearing under his breath, Gabe picked up the portable handset she'd appropriated for this room and barked out a rough, “Hello.” His face froze over almost instantly. “It's one in the morning.”

Jess didn't know how she knew it was Damon calling, but when she held out her hand, Gabriel slammed the receiver into her palm. “Get rid of him,” was his terse instruction.

Thankful he'd at least passed her the phone, she didn't get in much more than a word before Damon began to speak. Gabe gave her a disgusted look when she didn't immediately hang up, and started to leave. She grabbed the front of his shirt. “Wait.”

Covering the mouthpiece, she looked into her husband's furious eyes. “Something's wrong with Kayla. They're at the clinic with Dr. Mackey and Damon's losing it. He thinks they might not be able to save the baby.”

If he'd shaken off her hand, she wouldn't have been surprised. But what he did was take the phone and speak directly to Damon. “Jess is going to get changed. We'll be there soon as we can.”

B
y the time they got to Kowhai, the rescue chopper was on its way. But Dr. Mackey—the one who met them at the clinic door—was clearly still very worried.

“Can you tell us what's happening?” Jess asked. “Damon said something about the baby….”

“Kayla's looking like she might go into premature labor. I've put her on meds to delay it but…” He shook his head. “That's not actually the worst of it—her blood pressure's far too high for safety.”

Jess didn't need to be told that the clinic had neither the equipment nor the resources to deal with either half of the situation. “What do you want us to do?”

“Get Damon out of here. He's frantic and that's not helping. I'm going to go back in to check on her.”

Damon walked out of the only patient room at that very moment. “Jess, I don't know what to do.”

Hugging him close, she glanced over at Gabe. Her husband nodded.

“Come on,” he said to the younger man. “Why don't you help me put out landing beacons in the parking lot?”

Looking glad to have something to do, Damon followed him out. Jess waited until Dr. Mackey had emerged from Kayla's room to ask if she could go sit with her.

“I think that would be good, Jess.” Dr. Mackey rubbed at his eyes. “I'm going to call the hospital and make sure they're ready.”

Walking into the room, Jess took a seat beside Kayla's bed, not sure what her welcome would be. “Hey.”

The other woman's pale face broke out into a genuinely relieved smile. “Oh, Jess. I'm so glad you're here.” When she held out a hand, Jess took it, wanting to help her in any way she could. The irony of being a comfort to the very woman who'd been the cause of what Jess had always considered her greatest heartbreak, wasn't lost on her. But at that moment, Kayla was in pain and Jess could do nothing but feel for her.

Twenty more nerve-wracking minutes later, the chopper arrived. “Gabe, will you tidy up the lights?” Dr. Mackey asked as he jumped in with his patient and Damon.

Gabe nodded. “Don't worry about it.”

They stood aside as the chopper took off in a rush of wind, then set about clearing the mobile landing lights. The work went fast and they were on their way home not much later. When Gabe tugged her into his room after an exhausting ride back, she didn't argue.

They fell asleep intertwined and Jess had no thoughts of getting up any time soon. However Gabe stirred after what had to have been only a couple of hours at most. Jess knew stations didn't run themselves, but even in the short time that she'd been his wife, she'd noticed he had a real problem delegating authority.

“Let Jim handle things,” she said, voice scratchy with sleep. “Get a few more hours rest.” Picking up the phone, she passed it to him.

He looked down at her with an inscrutable expression. But he made the call and settled in beside her again, tugging her body flush against his. Jess had a moment to be amazed at the wonder of Gabe listening to her before tiredness washed over in her in an inexorable wave.

* * *

“Damon rang,” Jess told Gabe over dinner that night.

“Kayla's stable. They've also got the labor stopped for now, but the doctors are keeping her under observation. They think she might give birth despite the drugs.”

“Do you want to go to the hospital?”

Their eyes met across the table, his revealing nothing no matter how hard she tried to read them. “There's no need. Damon's with her and he seems to be calm now.”

“I wasn't thinking about Kayla.”

The steel of the fork cut into her flesh, she was squeezing it so hard. “I was.” So, the fragile truce formed between them in the early hours when they'd helped Kayla and Damon was over. It was just as well. She'd been in danger of forgetting the humiliating conversation she'd overheard last night—a conversation which had proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that she meant less than nothing to Gabe.

They finished the meal in silence and Jess went up to her bedroom. However sleep was the last thing on her mind—the situation with Kayla had set off a mental warning bell earlier today. She'd only had to glance at her diary to confirm the disquieting realization. Thankfully, she'd had the foresight to buy a testing kit in L.A., well aware that if she did the same in Kowhai, it'd be all over town in about three seconds flat.

Not wanting to chance an interruption, she'd forced herself to wait till after dinner and Gabe's retreat to his study. Now she had a bare minute's wait left, a minute that could change her life forever. Emotions crashed through her like thunder. Fear. Anticipation. Joy. Sheer terror.

She'd gone into this marriage blithely assuming she could give Gabriel an heir. What she'd never once factored into her decision was how she'd feel at bringing a child into the world with a man who might never love that child. How could he? Her husband seemed incapable of any tenderness.

The timer on her watch went off.

Looking down at the indicator, she steeled herself for either result.
“Oh.”

Somehow, she was on the bathroom floor, her entire body a mass of tremors. Her first instinct was to tell Gabriel but something stopped her. She needed time to get used to the idea herself, time to build shields around the huge vulnerability that had just opened up in her heart and soul.

She was going to have a baby.

Gabriel's baby.

And the second he found out, she'd lose any hope she had of making him see her as something other than a vehicle to give him his heir. Jess couldn't let that happen, though she also couldn't articulate why. It simply seemed integral that there be an indefinable
more
between them. But if Gabe learned about the baby, he'd see no reason to change—not when he could have everything he wanted on his terms.

No, she couldn't tell him. Not yet.

* * *

Despite her utter certainty that she'd made the right decision, she barely slept that night and spent most of the next day trying to come to terms with her pregnancy. Her nerves were frayed to a breaking point by the time she slipped into a simple black dress that evening. Sleeveless and with a scooped neckline that barely skimmed her cleavage, it kissed the top edge of her knees and followed the lines of her body.

It was the sexiest dress she owned. Which wasn't saying much—Sylvie was certain to be draped in something stunning.

Jess's gaze drifted to the closet…to the wine-red sheath she'd bought in a mad moment and never worn. And if she didn't get around to wearing it soon, it wasn't going to fit.

“Stop thinking about it. You'll need all your wits tonight.” Giving a decisive nod, she put her foot on the bed and picked up a fine black stocking topped with lace.

She had the second one halfway up her leg when Gabriel pushed through the door. She went motionless as his eyes trailed up her leg and over the bare skin of her thigh. And then he began to walk toward her. Dressed in a pair of black pants and a deep green shirt that seemed oddly familiar, he was enough to stop any woman in her tracks…even one as conflicted as Jess.

Coming to a standstill beside her, he put a hand on her raised knee. A prisoner to her own inexplicable need, she watched as he bent to place a single kiss on her upper thigh. Shockwaves of sensation rocked through her. And she knew that for all its gentleness, it was a brand, a silent statement that she belonged to him.

When he straightened to his full height, the raw desire in his eyes threatened to burn. “Finish it.”

She should have protested his order but her mind was out of her control, hijacked by the potent masculinity of this man she lacked the power to resist. His finger traced the lace edge as she completed the task, but he made no effort to stop her from putting her foot on the floor. Yet even with both feet on the ground, she couldn't quite find her sense of balance.

“I need to put on my shoes.” The words came out on a breathy whisper that sounded like an invitation.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, Gabe turned her so she faced away from him. She was about to ask him what he wanted when he stroked his hands down her side, fingers tracing over the curves of her breasts.

She screamed at herself to resist but her body was already caught in the web Gabe alone could weave. Reaching her hips, he tugged up her dress, bunching it in his hands until the hemline hovered at the top edge of her stockings. Shocked at the clawing power of the need inside of her, she tried to back away from herself but ended up with her body flush against his.

His lips met the curve of her neck even as the hardness of his arousal thrust against her, further electrifying senses saturated almost past bearing. “Gabe.” It was a plea.

He ran his lips along the shell of one ear. “Hold your dress for me.”

Once again, she knew she shouldn't obey, shouldn't give in to him. He'd destroy her defenses when she needed them so desperately tonight. But her hands were moving before the thought ended, her body a stranger to her will. Letting her take over the task, he ran his hands up along her sides and then, to her surprise, pulled back.

Feeling oddly ambivalent about the reprieve, she motioned to drop the hem. He pressed against her once more. “Hold it.” A soft command coated with the authority of a man used to giving them.

She scowled. “Why?”

“Because I'm otherwise occupied.” He nudged her gently forward until she stood in front of the mirror.

“What—?”

“This.” He strung something cool and beautiful around her neck.

“Gabe!” The glitter of the teardrop emerald flickered in the mirror, its brightness cradled by the soft darkness of the valley between her breasts.

Closing the clasp, Gabe stroked his fingers along the gold of the necklace to pick up the emerald. His knuckles brushed the upper curve of her breast, causing her to hold her breath until he replaced the pendant in the valley for which it seemed tailor-made.

“Beautiful.” One of his hands came to rest on her hip.

“I can't—” she began, stunned at the expensive gift.

“No arguments.” Moving around her, he leaned his body against the vanity and pulled her into the vee of his thighs.

She finally dropped the hem. “Why? We're fighting.” Her hand drifted to the cool beauty of the emerald.

In response, he ran his own hands up under her dress, shocking a short, ultimately feminine sound out of her. Releasing the emerald, she braced herself against his shoulders.

“You're my wife,” he said, as if that was reason enough.

“But you've—”

He kissed the words from her lips, his hands sliding around the back of her thighs to cup her bottom. His hold was incredibly intimate and when he pulled her closer, she went, wrapping her arms around his neck.

His fingers traced the edge of her panties. “What color?” he asked against her mouth.

“Black.” Her heart slammed into her ribs with punishing force. There was something very possessive in Gabriel's eyes tonight, something untamed and wild and all the more exhilarating for it. Her next words came from a part of her that she hadn't known existed until this moment. “And so is the bra. A matching set.”

He smiled and it was so slow and satisfied, her stomach tumbled. “Jessica darling, are you trying to make us late to the party? Your way of winning our little stand-off?”

In truth, she'd forgotten about it. “You're the one who interrupted me.” She was blindingly conscious of one of his hands moving to the front of her body.

“S
o I did,” he murmured, reclaiming her lips even as his hand pushed aside the gusset of her panties to thrust two fingers deep into a body more than primed by the slow seduction. Pleasure erupted inside her almost instantaneously. Pulling away from the ravaging fury of his mouth, she threw back her head and rode his fingers, feeling herself clench and unclench with vicious strength. She was on the verge of an explosive climax when he withdrew them.

Dazed, she swayed on her feet as he switched position to stand behind her. Instinct made her brace her hands on the vanity, her hair a tumbling mess around her face. When she raised her hand to push it back, she caught sight of the primal intensity driving Gabe—her husband was
not
in control tonight. That was all the warning she got before he shoved up her dress and slid inside her.

Crying out, she tried to move with him, but his rhythm was too fast for her to follow. “Please, please, please.” The whimpers were so needy she couldn't believe they were her own.

Gabe's arm came around her waist and his teeth scraped lightly over the sensitive skin of her neck. “Now, Jess. Now!”

She fractured under the command, everything female in her glorying in the wildness of that harsh masculine voice. At the last second, their eyes met in the mirror and Jess knew they'd crossed a line. The question was, what lay on the other side?

* * *

They were forty minutes late to the party. Jess's dress had been wrinkled beyond repair, so after a quick shower shared with a surprisingly playful Gabe, she'd put on a fitting pencil skirt and thin V-neck cardigan, both in black. The pendant glowed against her flushed skin. Gabe had insisted she put her stockings back on and she'd acquiesced—she liked the idea of him thinking her sexy, especially since Sylvie was going to be around.

Gabe's shirt, on the other hand, had emerged magically unscathed and he'd pulled it back on. It was only as they were walking through Sylvie's door that Jess realized the color almost perfectly matched his eyes. She scowled. Gabe might be wealthy and powerful, but he was also a man's man—fashion was not in his repertoire. The fact that he'd chosen something with that much care for Sylvie's party, stuck in her craw, dispelling what remained of the sensual afterglow.

The birthday girl beamed at Gabe, giving him a kiss on the cheek in return for his gift of a bottle of premier wine. “That green does wonderful things for your eyes, darling.”

Jess wondered if it would be catty to ask why she didn't deserve a welcome kiss, too. Amused by the thought, she leaned into Gabe's hold. Sylvie's eyes went straight to the emerald. She covered it well but Jess glimpsed a definite spark of anger. And no matter how petty it was, that reaction made her very happy.

“I can't take any of the credit. Jess is the one responsible.”

Jess was so startled by Gabe's comment she couldn't say a word.

“I didn't know you had such a good eye.” Sylvie gave her a bright smile that could have cut glass. “You're always so…simply dressed.”

“I prefer to leave things to the imagination.” Jess smiled and pointedly avoided glancing at the plunging neckline of her rival's very short black dress. The irritating thing was that Sylvie looked sexy when anyone else wearing that outfit would have crossed the line into trashy.

Thankfully, another late arrival entered behind them and they were able to move on.

“What did you mean about me being responsible?” she asked the second they were out of earshot.

He raised an eyebrow. “Last year, my birthday.”

“Oh.” Now she remembered sending him that spontaneous gift. “I wasn't sure I got the size right.” Or that he'd even like it.

He ran his knuckles down her cheek. “Obviously you were keeping an eye on my body long before you left.”

Blushing, she couldn't help but recall their wild encounter in front of her mirror. Gabe smiled and reached over to pick up two flutes of wine from the tray of a passing waiter.

Jess found her wits quickly. “Actually, can I have juice?”

He switched her drink and handed it over. “I thought you liked white wine.”

“I don't feel like it tonight,” she lied, wondering how long it would take him to figure out why she didn't want to drink. Gabe had a mind more efficient than many a computer but maybe this one time he'd be blind for a little while longer.

At that moment, a landowner Jess knew only vaguely walked over. “Gabriel, I've been wanting to talk to you.”

Smiling at the man's wife, Jess made small talk for a few minutes before another couple joined them and picked up the conversational ball. It left her free to observe and the foremost thing she noticed was that she was standing in the midst of the most powerful people in the room.

The second was that even the older ones looked to Gabe for advice, their respect for him far deeper than she'd ever realized. For the first time, she had a misgiving about their marriage unconnected to Gabe's inability to offer the slightest crumb of tenderness.

Although she'd grown up on a station, it had been a very small one and her father had never taught her the business side of things. Neither was she an accomplished hostess or conversationalist, when it was patent that Gabe needed all those things in his wife. She wouldn't go so far as to call herself a country bumpkin, but she
was
moving in social circles way beyond her own.

“Everything all right here?” Sylvie slid into the group on Gabe's other side.

“It's a fabulous party,” one of the older women exclaimed. “The perfect mix of people.”

“I wanted to keep things intimate, limit it to my close friends.”

Jess knew Sylvie wasn't grandstanding. Part of a respected and wealthy family, she'd grown up circulating amongst these people. Jess was the odd woman out.

“I think dinner's ready to be served,” Sylvie announced. “Why don't we head into the dining room? I've put place cards at the table—thought it'd be fun for us to mingle.”

Jess had an odd feeling she knew exactly where the other woman would be sitting and with whom. She wasn't far off the mark. Though Sylvie hadn't placed herself at the head of the table but in the middle, she'd put Gabriel to her right and another man to her left.

Jess faced the birthday girl, having been sandwiched between a woman known nationwide for her society parties, and a fashionably dressed male who she thought was supposed to be Sylvie's official date.

Gabe stood up, wineglass in hand. Everyone went silent. “Since Sylvie's parents are out of the country, she's asked me to do the toast.” He looked down at the other woman. “I think you'd all agree that Sylvie's achieved some amazing things with her career at a very young age.”

Jess gripped her hands together under the table, telling herself that Gabe's comments were no reflection on her.

“She has every reason to be happy with where she is today and to celebrate this birthday with pride. I invite you all to join me in congratulating her on everything she's accomplished so far and will continue to accomplish. Happy birthday Sylvie.”

Cheers sounded around the table and a beaming Sylvie put her hand on Gabe's arm as he sat back down. Jess made herself look away by sheer effort of will. She refused to give Sylvie the satisfaction of appearing a needy, jealous wife. At that second, her eyes clashed into those of the man beside her.

He smiled. “I'm Jason.”

“Jess.” She tried to relax. “So, Jason, what do you do?”

“I'm a lawyer, I'm afraid. Oh, excuse me.” He turned away to answer a question from the woman on his other side.

“Jessica, my dear, I've been waiting to speak to you.”

Surprised, Jess looked to her left. “Mrs. Kilpatrick?” What could they possibly have to speak about?

“Why didn't you tell me you were such an artist?”

Caught completely by surprise, Jess lowered the juice glass she'd just picked up. “But how did you know?”

“Would you believe I've been friends with Richard Dusevic for years? Last week we were both in Australia for an important show. The whole time, he was champing at the bit to get back because his assistant had rung to say that the package from J.B. Randall had arrived.” Mrs. Kilpatrick's smile lit up her whole face. “After all that, I had to see the paintings for myself, so I stopped by his gallery before flying down last night.”

Jess looked up at the sound of Sylvie's laughter and found Gabe smiling at the blonde in a way he never did for his wife. Stomach in knots, she forced her attention back to Mrs. Kilpatrick.

“You could've knocked me over with a feather when I found out J.B. Randall was none other than our very own Jessie!”

“So, Richard liked my work?” Jess asked, hand threatening to crush the glass as Sylvie laughed for the second time.

“Oh, listen to me blather on. I made him promise that I'd be the one to tell you, being that I've known you since you were a child. He wants to put on a solo show for you!”

Jess was stunned—a solo show for an unknown artist was almost unheard of. But even the depth of her excitement at the astonishing opportunity couldn't quell the anger she felt at seeing Sylvie continue to flirt outrageously with Gabriel. He didn't seem to be encouraging her but neither was he doing anything to halt her.

“Will you do me a favor?” Jason asked a few minutes later after Mrs. Kilpatrick's attention had been claimed by someone else.

“What?” She wrenched her eyes from the couple across the table. “Oh, sure. What is it?”

The handsome man leaned close. “Flirt with me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Look,” he said, putting an arm along the back of her chair, “this might be Sylvie's party, but she invited me here as her date.”

“So?”

“So the fact that she's apparently planning to ignore me the whole night is not sitting well.” He raised an eyebrow. “And if I'm not mistaken, it's your husband she's trying to reel in.”

Jess narrowed her eyes. “Gabriel isn't that easily led.”

“But don't you want to make him a little uncomfortable? Stupidly childish of us, I admit, but I don't see him stopping her.”

“He can hardly move away,” Jess argued, though she'd had the exact same thought mere seconds ago. Something in her was very, very angry at Gabriel right now. Given what she'd overheard two nights ago, it was blatantly clear that he and Sylvie had had a far deeper relationship than she'd ever before realized. He might have married Jess, but it was Sylvie to whom he'd told his secrets. And that was a betrayal Jess couldn't forgive.

Jason leaned closer. “Would it help to know that your husband has suddenly developed an interest in our side of the table?”

It took a huge effort for her to not look in Gabe's direction. “I suppose you think that's your doing?”

“Of course it is. I'm rich, gorgeous and successful, not to mention charming.”

“You're a menace, too.” She laughed despite herself.

Something in Jason's face underwent a subtle change. “You know, I think I want to flirt with you for real.”

“Contain yourself.” Jess knew she was treading dangerous waters but she didn't give a damn. However it had nothing to do with Jason. He was nice enough and undeniably charming, but the man at the center of her thoughts sat on the other side of the table.

Her mind screeched to a halt. Since when had Gabriel become the man she thought about most often? It had always been Damon who occupied that special place in her heart and soul. But now Gabriel was there and that terrified her.

“Do you ever travel up to Auckland?” Jason asked, retrieving a business card from his pocket.

She smiled at the thought of the proposed show. “I will be soon.”

“Visit me.” He passed her his card.

Jess put it carefully beside her plate. “I'm married.”

“Doesn't stop some.”

“It stops me.” She held his gaze.

He gave a rueful shrug. “Keep the card anyway. You might need a lawyer someday and I'm damn good.” Removing his arm from her chair, he reached for his wineglass and clicked it against the glass she'd just picked up.

Jess managed to keep her head down until after she'd taken a sip of juice and spooned up some pudding. Her pragmatic nature said that Gabriel had likely not even noticed Jason's little charade, and even if he had, he'd hardly have taken it seriously. Still, something in her hoped otherwise.

Taking a quiet breath, she looked up…into the pure green focus of his eyes. All the air rushed out of her lungs and her hand rose to curl around the emerald. It was impossible not to relive the ecstasy of what had taken place between them after he'd put it on her, but she dropped her hand soon as she saw that same knowledge in the sardonic curve of his mouth.

However the damage had already been done. With a single look, Gabriel had let her know that he'd seen through her ridiculous attempt at provoking jealousy…and that it had meant nothing to him. Because in the end, she was his.