Page 52 of Gabriel's Angel

“And so you should. You should also know that Marion and Gabe were never lovers.” She moved her shoulders a bit. “I can’t say that I know about all of my son’s affairs, but I do know that he and Marion only have art in common. Now, what did she say to upset you?”

“It was nothing.” Laura brushed her fingers over her temples, as if to soothe away an ache. “Really, it was my own fault, overreacting. She only mentioned that she’d met my first husband.”

“I see.” Annoyed, Amanda turned her sharp-eyed glance into the drawing room again. “Well, I have to say I find it very insensitive to bring up the subject at your wedding reception. One would have thought a woman like Marion would have more taste.”

“It’s over and it’s best forgotten.” Straightening her shoulders, Laura prepared to go back in. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t mention any of this to Gabe. There’s no reason to annoy him.”

“No, I agree. I’ll speak with Marion myself.”

“No.” Laura picked up her glass again and sipped slowly. “If there’s anything that needs to be said, I’ll say it myself.”

Amanda’s smile spread and she said easily, “If that’s what you’d like.”

“Yes. Amanda...” A decision made quickly, she thought, was sometimes the best. “Could I leave Michael with you one day next week? I’d like to go into the gallery and see Gabe’s paintings.”

***

Laura woke up out of breath and shivering. She struggled her way out of the nightmare to find herself in Gabe’s arms.

“Just relax. You’re all right.”

She drew in a big gulp of air, then let it out slowly. “Sorry,” she muttered, dragging a hand through her hair.

“Want anything? Some water?”

“No.” As the fear passed, annoyance took its place. The glowing dial of the alarm clock read 4:15. They’d been in bed for only three hours, and now she was wide-awake and restless.

With his arm still around her, Gabe lay back on his pillow. “You haven’t had a nightmare since Michael was born. Did something happen at the party tonight?”

She thought of Marion and gritted her teeth. “Why do you ask?”

“I noticed that you seemed upset, and my mother annoyed.”

“Did you think that I had an argument with your mother?” That made her smile and settle more comfortably against him. “No, in fact we get along very well.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I didn’t expect to make friends with her. I kept waiting for her to bring out her broom and pointed hat.”

He laughed and kissed her shoulder. “Just try criticizing my work.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Unconsciously she began to stroke her fingers through his hair. When she was here, like this, she believed she could handle anything that threatened her new family. “She showed me the mural in the parlor. The one with all the mythical creatures.”

“I was twenty, and romantic.” And he’d asked his mother a dozen times to have it painted over.

“I like it.”

“No wonder you get along with her.”

“I did like it.” She shifted so that she could rest her arms on his chest. There was only a little moonlight, but she could see him. She didn’t realize that it was her first completely unstudied move toward him, but he did. “What’s wrong with unicorns and centaurs and fairies?”

“They have their place, I suppose.” But all he was currently interested in was making love with her.

“Good. Then don’t you think the side wall in Michael’s room is the perfect place for a mural?”

He tugged at a curl that fell over her cheek. “Are you offering me a commission?”

“Well, I’ve seen a few samples of your work, and it’s not bad.”

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