Page 47 of Gabriel's Angel

“I won’t be long.” She waited until she was alone, then closed her eyes, hoping she had the courage to carry out her plans for the rest of the evening.

***

She hadn’t been just a woman in so long. Laura stood in front of the mirrored wall, fogged now from the steam of her bath. She looked like a woman. Her nightgown was the palest blue, nearly white. She’d chosen it because it had reminded her of the way the snow had looked on the mountains in Colorado. It fell down her body from thin straps and a lacy bodice. She ran her hand down it experimentally. The material was very thin and very soft.

Should she wear her hair up, or wear it down? Did it matter?

What would it be like to be Gabe’s wife... really his wife? She pressed a hand to her stomach, waiting for the nerves to ebb. Memories threatened to surface, and she fought them back. Tonight she would take Amanda’s advice. She would think not of what had been, but of what could be.

She loved him so much, but she didn’t know how to tell him. Words were so difficult, so irrevocable. Worse, she was afraid that he would take her love with the same discomfort and disregard as he did her gratitude. But tonight... she hoped tonight she could begin to show him.

He was stripping off his shirt when she opened the door to the adjoining bedroom. For a moment the light coming from behind her fell over her hair and ran through the thin fabric of her gown. All movement stopped as though it were a play, just as the curtain rose. He felt the heat and the tightening in his stomach.

Then she switched off the bathroom light. He pulled off his shirt.

“I checked on Michael.” Gabe was surprised he could speak at all, but the words sounded normal enough. “He’s sleeping. I thought I might work for an hour or two.”

“Oh.” She caught herself before she could twist her hands together. She was a grown woman. A grown woman should know how to seduce her husband. “I know you lost time this afternoon when I went out.”

“I liked taking care of him.” She was so slim, so beautifully frail, with her milky white skin and that blue-white gown. The angel again, with a fall of blond curls instead of a halo.

“You’re a wonderful father, Gabe.” She took a step toward him. She was already beginning to tremble.

“Michael makes it easy.”

Should she have known it would be so difficult to simply cross a room? “Do I make it hard, to be a husband?”

“No.” He lifted the back of his hand to her cheek. Her eyes were shades upon shades darker than the flow of silk she wore. He drew back, surprised by his own nerves. “You must be tired.”

She bit off a sigh as she turned away. “It’s obvious I’m not very good at this. Since seducing you isn’t working, we’ll try the more practical approach.”

“Is that what you were doing?” He wanted to be amused, but his muscles were tight with tension. “Seducing me?”

“Badly.” Opening her drawer, she drew out a small slip of paper. “This is my doctor’s report. It says that I’m a normal, healthy woman. Would you care to read it?”

This time his lips twitched. “Covered all the bases, did you?”

“You said you wanted me.” The paper crumpled in her hand. “I thought you meant it.”

He had her arms before she could retreat. Her eyes were dry, but he could see, just by looking, her fractured pride. The burden he already felt grew heavier. What they had was still so tenuous. If he made a mistake it might vanish completely.

“I meant it, Laura, started meaning it from the first day you were with me. It hasn’t been easy, being with you, needing you, and not being able to touch.”

Gingerly she laid a hand on his chest and felt his muscles tighten. “There’s no reason you can’t now.”

He slid his hands up to her shoulders so that his fingers brushed over the thin straps of her gown. If it was a mistake, he had no choice but to make it. “No physical one any longer. When I take you to bed, there can only be the two of us. No ghosts. No memories.” When she dropped her gaze, he drew her closer, challenging her to lift it again. “You won’t think of anyone but me.”

Whether it was a threat or a promise, he lowered his mouth to hers. Her hands fluttered, then were trapped between their bodies.

It was only the press of lips upon lips, but her blood began to pound. The stirring he could cause so easily started in her stomach and spread, long before his hands moved over her, long before her lips parted.

Her hands were imprisoned, but she didn’t feel vulnerable. His mouth wasn’t gentle, but she didn’t feel afraid. As the kiss deepened, as the intimacy grew, she didn’t think of anyone but him.

She tasted as she had the very first time, ripe and fresh. With his tongue he plundered her mouth, greedy for the flavor of her. There would be no turning back now, not when she was caught close in his arms and the lights were dim. He could hear her shuddering breath, and the steady ticking of the pendulum clock in the hallway. It was dark, it was quiet, they were alone. And tonight he would take a wife.

Her heart thudded against his bare chest, adding excitement. He ran his hands over her, feeling the smoothness of her skin, the slickness of her gown, feeling every tremble and every sigh his touch incited.

Greedy, he nipped his teeth into her lip as his hands moved lower. Passion sprung out, from him, from her, mixing together in a sudden, breath-stopping fury. Then he felt her body give against his in the ultimate gift of trust. The emotions that rose up in him tempered his desire. Tenderness, achingly sweet, more precious than diamonds, took its place.

---