Page 49 of Gabriel's Angel

How might things have been if Gabe had been an ordinary man, a man of ordinary means? They might have found a little house with a little backyard and been swallowed up by anonymity. A part of her yearned for that, for the simplicity of it.

But that was wrong. Laura fastened the earrings she’d bought the week before, starbursts of blue stones. If Gabe had come from a different family and a different life, he wouldn’t be the man she loved. The man she was almost ready to believe was beginning to love her.

There was nothing about him she wanted to change, not his looks, not his manner. She might wish occasionally that he would share with her a bit more of his thoughts and feelings, but she continued to hope that someday he would.

She wanted to be a full part of his life—lover, wife and partner. So far, she had come to be the first two.

When the door opened, she turned.

“If you’re about ready, we’ll—”

And he stopped and stared. This was the woman she’d only told him about, the one who had graced the covers of magazines and modeled silks and sables. Long-limbed and slender, she stood in front of the beveled mirror in a dress of midnight-blue. It was very simple, leaving her shoulders and throat bare, then caught like a wish at her breasts to fall ruler-straight to her feet.

She’d wound her hair up, swept it back, so that only a few wheat-colored curls escaped to tease her temples.

She was beautiful, gloriously so, yet even as he was drawn to her, he felt as though he were looking at a stranger.

“You look wonderful.” But he kept his hand on the knob and the room between them. “I’ll have to paint you like this.”Beauty on Ice, he thought, cool, aloof and unapproachable.

“I took your advice on the color.” She picked up her purse, then clasped and unclasped it as she wondered why he was looking at her as though he’d never seen her before. “And I avoided bows.”

“So I see.” She should have sapphires, a collar of them, around her throat. “It’s still a bit cool. Do you have a wrap?”

“Yes.” Irked by his tone, she walked to the bed and snatched up a wide silk scarf in a riot of jewel-like colors. It was then that he noticed that the back of the skirt was slit to the thigh.

“I imagine you’ll create quite a stir in that little number.”

She cringed inwardly, but, falling back on appearances, she managed to keep her face calm. “If you don’t like the dress, why don’t you just say so?” She swirled the scarf over her shoulders. “It’s too late to change, but believe me, I won’t wear it again.”

“Just a minute.” He grabbed her hand as she started through the doorway. He could feel the smooth gold of her plain wedding ring on the index finger of her right hand. She was still his Laura, he thought as he linked his fingers with hers. He’d only had to look in her eyes to see it.

“I have to get Michael ready,” she mumbled, and tried again to move past him.

“Do you expect an apology because I’m human enough to be jealous?”

Her face went still, her eyes blank. “I’m not wearing it to attract other men. I bought it because I liked it and I thought it suited me.”

He brought a hand to her face and swore roundly when she jerked. “Look at me. No, damn it, not at him, at me.” Her eyes lashed back up to him. “Remember who I am, Laura. And remember this—I won’t tolerate having my every mood, my every word, compared with someone else’s.”

“I’m not trying to do that.”

“Maybe you’re not trying to, but you do.”

“You expect me to turn my life around overnight. I can’t.”

“No.” He ran his thumb over the ring again. “I don’t suppose you can. But you can remember that I’m part of your new life, not your old one.”

“You’re nothing like him.” It was becoming easier to let her hand relax in his. “I know that. I guess sometimes it’s easier to expect the worst than to hope for the best.”

“I can’t promise you the best.”

No, he wouldn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. That was the beauty of him. “You could hold me. That’s as close as I need to get.”

When his arms came around her, he pressed her cheek against the shoulder of his black evening jacket. It smelled of him, and that made the last twists of tension dissolve.

“I suppose I was jealous, too.”

“Oh?”

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