"I need a favor."
Jess was so angry at Gabe that she locked both the doors leading to her bedroom.
Despite their troubles to date, it was the first time she'd done that. She knew he'd think she was making the power play he'd accused her of, using sex as a bargaining tool.
But the truth was both far simpler and far more complex. Not only had she not forgotten his treatment of Cecily, she now had further evidence of his inhumanity in his inability to forgive Corey. And she couldn't imagine sleeping with a man capable of such cruelty.
A knot formed in her throat. She agreed Corey had made a mistake and a bad one at that, but surely everyone deserved a second chance? However Gabe was the one with the power. And he'd thrown Corey out without a single thought. What made it worse was that she hadn't been able to tell whether his action was rooted in decades-old pain, or simple cold-hearted vengeance.
Tears trickled down her face. Stupid, impractical tears. Even when she thought she had no illusions left, Gabe did something that splintered one and she realized she'd been clutching onto yet another dream that could never be. Her hand went to her stomach. Once again, she wondered what kind of a father he'd be. If he could condemn Corey so very easily, mightn't he one day turn on his own child because that child had broken the rules?
The scenario was excruciatingly easy to imagine. And it hurt. Gabe had always had the ability to wound her with his ruthless practicality, but she'd been able to bear that, cushioned by a layer of distance … by her love for Damon.
But that cushion was no longer there. And she was too terrified to ask herself why. All she knew was that Gabriel now had a direct line to her most vulnerable self, a truth she couldn't ever let him know, not a man so harsh as he'd proven today.
She fell asleep with that thought buzzing through her brain. When she woke, it was already far too late. Gabriel was carrying her to his bed and her arms were wrapped around his neck, her body betraying her even in sleep.
"What are you doing?"
"Taking you back where you belong." He sat on his bed with her in his lap.
She put a hand on his bare chest. "What if I don't want to be here?"
His answer was to kiss her, kiss her until her world spun and he became her sole anchor. She clung to him as she would to a life raft in a storm, his body muscular and powerful, protective and safe. But, of course, that was yet another illusion.
Breaking the kiss, she looked into that pitiless masculine face. Her pulse pounded in every inch of her skin. "I don't like you very much right now."
The blunt honesty didn't faze him. "That doesn't matter. You still want me."
Sliding his hand up her thigh, he began to kiss the vulnerable line of her neck.
She sucked in a breath and tried to push him away. But he cupped her with that big, rough hand that knew her needs so well. It was all she could do not to cry out. "That's-that's n-not how it should be."
He turned to place her on the bed, removing his hand so he could brace his body over hers. His next kiss was coaxing … gentle. Except it allowed no escape, wrapping her up in a cocoon of sexuality as real and as powerful as the man holding her prisoner. "We have passion. That's enough."
Fighting through the sensual haze, she found herself saying something she knew she shouldn't. "What about love?" It came out as a whisper so soft, she wondered if he'd heard.
He tangled his lower body with hers. "Love is for fools."
Those were the last words spoken by either of them as their bodies took up the conversation in a turbulent storm of hunger and unspoken need. Jess was drowning in what Gabe could do to her, but even in the midst of her pleasure, something struck her as different.
He'd never ever hurt her in bed, but tonight there was a carefulness, an aching tenderness to his touch that was new. He spent hours going over every inch of her skin, not letting her hurry him, no matter how she urged. In the end, she surrendered to that strange tenderness and it was another irrevocable step into the unknown.
After the haunting beauty of his lovemaking that night, Jess expected some change in their relationship, perhaps a new honesty born out of those intimacies. But even as she readied herself to face that change, hours turned into days and Gabe seemed to withdraw further and further from her.
It was true that she was busy preparing for the show, and he had to handle the rebuilding of the stables on top of the approaching lambing season, but notwithstanding all that, they seemed to connect less and less as the days passed.
That in itself might not have alarmed her if she hadn't begun to notice that Gabe refused to discuss the baby. At first, he was too busy to accompany her to the doctor's when she went for a check-up. She didn't pay much mind to that-he was hardly the kind of man who'd insist on following the pregnancy every step of the way.
But he became distant every time she brought up the topic-he never asked questions of his own volition. Part of her thought it was all in her imagination, what with the pregnancy seeming to turn her into a walking explosion of hormones. Another bigger part of her was convinced something was
seriously wrong. However attempting to bring it up with Gabe was like trying to run uphill against the wind.
Days passed and still she didn't push. Things were relatively smooth between them and she didn't want to make ripples, especially not when all she had were the very vaguest of misgivings. Their relationship might have gone on in this way for months if she hadn't picked up the business line one night.
"Angel Station." She sipped her coffee, her mind on the show which was only a week away. Another important date loomed much closer, falling this coming Saturday in point of fact. And Gabe hadn't said a word about it so far.
"Jess, is that you?" The voice was feminine, slightly husky and amused. "Acting as Gabe's secretary now?"
The coffee suddenly tasted like dust. "Hi, Sylvie. What can I do for you?"
"Actually, I needed to talk to Gabe about something." She paused. "Well, I'm sure you know, with the anniversary approaching."
Jess's hand squeezed the receiver. "It was nice of you to call."
"I couldn't not call, could I? I mean not many people know the truth. Oh, I suppose you do, don't you?"
Jess knew full well the other woman was being purposefully bitchy, but she couldn't help the hurt that sliced through her. The fact was that Sylvie was only able to do what she was doing because of Gabe. He'd made the decision to keep his wife in the dark about everything that mattered.
Gabriel returned at that moment. "Hold on, Sylvie. Gabe's here." Passing him the receiver, she took her coffee and walked out. This time she ignored the dangerous temptation to listen in and went to sit on the back steps. The stars sparkled bright overhead but she barely noticed them. It was hard to see beauty through the dull ache of an angry hurt.
She didn't move even when she heard Gabriel's footsteps a few minutes later. He sat behind her, his legs on either side of her body, the heat of his chest pressed to her back. But he couldn't warm the cold places in her heart.
"What did Sylvie say to you?"
Unsurprised by the question, she put down her coffee and wrapped her arms around herself. "Don't worry. She didn't tell me your secrets." She focused on the farthest star she could see on the horizon, a bright pinprick that offered hope even in the darkest of times.
A cruel lie.
Sometimes darkness was all there was.
Gabriel ran one hand down her arm. "Sylvie and-"
"I don't want to know." She could live her whole life without knowing about his relationship with Sylvie. "She's nothing to me. But you're my husband and I'd like very much to know what that means."
"Jess." A quiet warning.
"Food, shelter, sex." She ticked off the elements one by one, her voice outwardly serene though a strange fury roared in her blood. "The basic three. Oh wait, I forgot-a baby. You gave me that, too. But you don't seem to want that baby very much."
"I'll provide for our child."
"Like you provide for me?" she snapped. "Or like you provide for Sylvie?"
"We've had this conversation before."
"I don't think you're cheating, Gabe. At least not with your body." Shaking off his touch, she stood and turned to face him. "But what do you call it when you tell her things you don't tell me?"
He didn't rise but anger threaded his voice. "Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?"