Bound By Marriage(18)

"You're a determined woman. I'm sure the show will be a success. But  Jess," he used a finger to tip up her chin, "that game you were playing  during dinner? Don't ever try it again."

Shocked at the quiet fury beneath the calm words, she stared at him. "Why not?"

Self-preservation went out the window-she'd rather have Gabe's passion,  even if it was in the form of anger, than a safe life. It would have  been a startling realization had she been able to think logically.  "Should I have sat there like a dumb rock while you looked down Sylvie's  cleavage?"

He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger. "No, my darling  wife, that you can't accuse me of. If I want to see a woman's body, I do  it in private.

You, however, were putting on quite a show for your friend."

"Oh, please," she muttered. "I'm wearing a cardigan! How much more conservative could I get?"

"Right now, I can see straight down to the tops of your breasts and the  edges of your bra." His tone was on the lethal side of dangerous.

Blushing, she resisted the urge to cross her arms over her chest. "You  have a different vantage point. And that's not what I was getting at."

"Which was?"

She gripped the edge of the bed. "As you've pointed out on many  occasions, you married me because I'd be a nice, easy, well-behaved wife  who'd do what you wanted. Fine. I'll be that wife," she promised  rashly. "But get one thing straight-I'm not some doormat you can tread  on whenever you like, with whomever you please."

He released her chin and pulled her to her feet by her upper arms. "Be very careful what you accuse me of, Jess."

The sane woman in her said she should stop, that she was pushing him too  far, but she was beyond rational thought. "Tell me, Gabe, is that why  you wanted a compliant wife too much in your debt to dare make waves? So  you'd be able to have your cake and eat it, too?"





Chapter 11





White lines bracketed his mouth. "I'm not the one who parades around  wearing my love for another man like some kind of damn holy grail."

Her head snapped back from the chilling impact of his words.

Tightening his hold on her arms, he almost lifted her off the floor.  "Don't think you're going to free yourself to chase after him by pinning  false accusations of infidelity on me!"

"Do you really think I'd do something like that?" she whispered, bruised  to the core. "His wife's in the hospital and they're about to have a  baby."

"Cut the act, Jess. You were very good to Kayla but how much of that was  because of guilt, huh?" Setting her free in a sudden movement, he  thrust a hand through his hair. "If Damon walked into this room right  this second and asked you to marry him, you'd accept in a shot, pregnant  wife or not!"

Blood freezing in her veins, she dropped down to her previous position  on the bed. "Get out." It was a quiet sound. "Leave me alone."

"That's your response to the truth, turn tail and hide?"

She raised her face, desperate to conceal the tears choking up her  throat. "You just gave me a very good indication of what kind of a  person you think I am-the kind who'd not only break her own marriage  vows, but also ruin the life of a woman and an unborn child. Why would  you want to be in a room with me anyway?"

Gabriel was asking himself the same question. Every time Jess got near  Damon, she lit up like a damn light bulb. There was no doubt in his mind  that if the chance presented itself, she'd always choose the other man.  Gabe should have walked away the second he realized that. Instead, he'd  married her.

And now he found himself no longer happy about her devotion to Damon,  regardless of the fact that it was keeping her from asking things from  him he had no desire to give. Worse, he couldn't seem to stay away from  her. It was purely the sex, he told himself. Jess was a lover unlike any  he'd ever had.                       
       
           



       

"I married you for things other than conversation," he said, furious  with her both for her love for Damon and the way she'd flirted with that  lawyer. "Having sex with you doesn't have to involve liking you."

Jess went very quiet for an instant. Then she stood and began undoing  her cardigan. "Fine. Let's do it and get it over with so I can go to  sleep."

"You think you can keep up that expressionless face after I touch you?"  he taunted, pushed to the brink. Bed was the one place where she was  utterly his.

"The second I take you into my arms-"

"I might be in your arms," she interrupted, streaks of red high on her cheekbones, "but it's not you I'm thinking about."

Gabe felt every muscle in his body lock. Not trusting himself in the  same room as her, he walked out and slammed the door behind him. Damn  her. And damn him for being fool enough to think he could escape the  curse of the past. He was, after all, his father's son.

Jess collapsed onto the bed and, muffling her sobs with her fist, tried  not to think of anything. But her mind wouldn't stop. She was pregnant  by a man who saw her as the worst kind of lying, cheating fraud.

And there was no way out. If she left him he'd sell her family home to  the developers without the least hesitation. Gabriel Dumont hadn't  reached his position in life by being thwarted. He'd made her his wife  and he'd keep her his wife.

But something had changed inside of her. For the first time, she found  herself considering an act which had always before seemed  impossible-sacrificing Randall Station. Agonizing pain twisted up her  body in a silent denial. The station was more than a place, it was the  last living memory she had of her parents. On that land, she could  imagine they were with her even today, ready to shower her with more  love than she knew what to do with.

Sitting by and letting their epitaph be so cruelly cheapened was more  than she could bear. And the only way to ensure its safety was to remain  in this marriage that threatened to tear her to shreds.

After what had happened the previous night, Jess was simply craving  peace and quiet the next morning, but a phone call altered that.

"Richard," she said, taking a seat in her studio. "Thank you so much."

"Don't thank me. You did the work." He sounded so pleased she could  almost see his smile. "I loved every one of your pieces of course, but I  think portraits are your strong suit."

"Yes." She liked faces, liked capturing the stories told by wrinkles and  laugh lines, downturned eyes and flirtatious smiles. "They're what I  enjoy the most."

"Good, because that's the element I want to build the show around." A  small pause. "You have a real gift, Jess." His tone had shifted, become  more intense, charm falling away to reveal the driven man who'd made a  name for himself in a very competitive field. "It's true that you have  some way to go in terms of the maturity of your style, but the rawness  of your work right now has its own strength."

She felt less nervous now that he'd said that-wholesale praise would  have been a little unbelievable coming from a man as notoriously tough  as Richard Dusevic.

"Strong enough for a show?"

"I wouldn't have made the offer if I'd had any doubts on that score." A  statement so blunt, it could have come from Gabriel. "Your work is  honest, brutally so sometimes.

"You don't hide behind affectations or polish and you don't allow your  subjects to hide either. I'm going to ask you to paint me, though it  scares me what you'll see."

His words triggered a precious memory.

She'd painted her mother once, a long time ago. Beth Randall had taken  one look at that simple acrylic portrait and said, "Jessie, honey, you  painted my soul."

If only she could see her husband as clearly, but he was colored in inky black.

Opaque. Unknowable. "Where do we go from here?"

"We'll work together to select the pieces and if at any stage we don't  think it's a go, we can delay it. So don't stress yourself. That's my  job."

After the positive nature of that call, she felt considerably more  focused, more confident. The feeling stayed with her throughout the day  and by the time she sat down to dinner with Gabriel that night, she'd  made up her mind to extend an olive branch. They couldn't go on this  way, not with so much at stake. It was while she was in the act of  bracing herself to break the silence that the phone rang again.

"It's a girl!" Damon cried. "And bloody healthy despite coming three  weeks early. She doesn't even need an incubator. Man, this kid was  determined to be born!"