Page 5 of Gabriel's Angel

“You shouldn’t be carrying heavy things.”

Her brows lifted. Surprise came first. No one had ever pampered her. And certainly her life, which had rarely been easy, had been hardest over the past seven months. Then gratitude came, and she smiled. “Thanks, but I’m careful.”

“If you were careful, you’d be in your own bed with your feet up and not snowbound with me.”

“Exercise is important.” But she sat and let him set out the dishes. “And so’s food.” With her eyes closed, she breathed in the scents. Hot, simple, fortifying. “I hope I didn’t put too much of a dent in your supplies, but once I got started I couldn’t stop.”

Gabe picked up half a sandwich that was thick with cheese, crisp bacon and sliced hothouse tomatoes. “I’m not complaining.” The truth was, he’d gotten into the habit of eating right out of the pan over the kitchen sink. Hot food made with more care than hurry tasted one hell of a lot better from a plate.

“I’d like to pay you back, for the bed and the food.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He scooped up clam chowder while he studied her. She had a way of sticking out her chin that made him think of pride and will. It made an interesting contrast with the creamy skin and the slender neck.

“That’s kind of you, but I prefer paying my own way.”

“This isn’t the Hilton.” She wore no jewelry, he noted, not even a plain gold band on her finger. “You cooked the meal, so we’ll call it even.”

She wanted to argue—her pride wanted to argue—but the simple truth was, she had very little cash, except for the baby fund she’d scrupulously set aside in the lining of her suitcase. “I’m very grateful.” She sipped at the milk, though she detested it. The scent of his coffee was rich and forbidden. “Have you been here long, in Colorado?”

“Six months, seven, I guess.”

That gave her hope. The timing was good, almost too good. From the looks of the cabin, he didn’t spend much time poring over the newspapers, and she hadn’t noticed a television. “It must be a wonderful place to paint.”

“So far.”

“I couldn’t believe it when I walked in. I recognized your work right away. I’ve always admired it. In fact, my—someone I knew bought a couple of your pieces. One of them was a painting of a huge, deep forest. It seemed as though you could step right into it and be completely alone.”

He knew the work, and, oddly enough, he’d had the same feeling about it. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought it had been sold back east. New York, Boston, perhaps Washington, D.C. If his curiosity about her persisted, it would only take a phone call to his agent to refresh his memory.

“You didn’t say where you were traveling from.”

“No.” She continued to eat, though her appetite had fled. How could she have been foolish enough to describe the painting? Tony had bought it, or rather had snapped his fingers and arranged for his lawyers to buy it on his behalf because Laura had admired it. “I’ve been in Dallas for a while.”

She’d been there almost two months before she’d discovered that the Eagletons’ detectives were making discreet inquiries about her.

“You don’t sound like a Texan.”

“No, I suppose I don’t. That’s probably because I’ve lived all over the country.” That was true enough, and she was able to smile again. “You’re not from Colorado.”

“San Francisco.”

“Yes, I remember reading that in an article about you and your work.” She would talk about him. From her experience men were easily distracted when the conversation centered on themselves. “I’ve always wanted to see San Francisco. It seems like a lovely place, the hills, the bay, the beautiful old houses.” She gave a quick gasp and pressed a hand to her stomach.

“What is it?”

“The baby’s just restless.” She smiled, but he noted that her eyes were shadowed with fatigue and her complexion was pale again.

“Look, I don’t know anything about what you’re going through, but common sense tells me you should be lying down.”

“Actually, I am tired. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to rest for a few minutes.”

“The bed’s through here.” He rose and, not certain she could get up and down on her own, offered her a hand.

“I’ll take care of the dishes later if...” Her words trailed off as her knees buckled.

“Hold on.” Gabe put his arms around her and had the odd, rather humbling sensation of having the baby move against him.

“I’m sorry. It’s been a long day, and I guess I pushed it further than I should have.” She knew she should move away, pull back on her own, but there was something exquisite about leaning against the hard, sturdy body of a man. “I’ll be fine after a nap.”

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