Releasing her shoulders, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. When she closed her hands over his, she brushed the raw skin of his knuckles. "I never thought you'd be the type to punch another man." It seemed so emotional an act when control was everything to him.
"Violence runs in the family."
"You're too smart to accept such a facile explanation." She leaned fully into him, no longer fighting the effect he'd always had on her. Her body accepted him, knew him, needed him-sensuality was simply one aspect of that craving.
"Anyone would have lashed out after what he said."
"Defending me, Jess?"
"I'm only telling the truth."
"So was Damon," he said after a long silence. "Though I suppose you could argue my father rarely ever actually beat my mother. He preferred to break her spirit in ways that didn't leave a mark. I think he'd nearly succeeded until that day when he tried to drag Angelica into the basement."
She was so worried about disrupting the moment she barely dared to breathe.
"My mother snapped, though I didn't know it then. That night, after my father passed out drunk on the couch, she gave us all a glass of milk."
"You hate milk," she said without thinking.
He hugged her tighter. "I didn't realize you knew."
"I told you, I'm your wife." And she'd keep fighting for that to mean what it should.
"My mother knew, too, and she didn't usually force any on me." His voice was calm but she read the emotional truth in the merciless discipline with which he held his body. "That day, I threw it into a planter when she wasn't looking.
"Then, after everyone else had fallen asleep, I snuck out to go exploring at a pond about a mile from the house. By the time I came back, the house was in flames and when I tried to run inside, the people who'd come to help dragged me out."
She ran a hand gently up his arm. "But you were burned."
"I was faster than they expected. Got into the hallway seconds before a beam collapsed."
"The fire," she whispered, a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. "It was your mother."
Chapter 16
"I' m pretty certain the milk was drugged. It was verified that none of the others had even tried to get out. And there was incontrovertible proof of the fire having been deliberately set." His voice didn't shake, didn't fracture under a load which would have crippled many men. "They assumed it was my father but I knew it couldn't have been. Once he passed out, he stayed that way for eight hours or more."
All she wanted to do was hold him. But would he accept the tenderness? "It was ruled an accident."
"It's a small town and the men in power at the time were good friends of my father's. They decided the truth would serve no purpose other than to make my life hell, so they buried it. It wasn't until I was sixteen that I pushed them to confirm what I already knew."
Stunned at what she'd learned and what it told her about the man who was her husband, she tried to find the right words. "You're nothing like him."
"Enough, Jess." He brushed back her hair and kissed the soft skin of her nape.
"I don't want to talk about this ever again."
It wasn't in her nature to give up, but they'd come so far today. Turning in his arms, she let him sweep her under in a dark wave of masculine heat. And for the first time, she didn't fight the surrender. In any way.
The next week passed by in a blur of happiness. Gabriel was no Prince Charming, but the man did have a way of melting a woman's insides when he decided to smile. And he'd been smiling a lot more often of late.
So when Jess ran into Corey at the grocery store, she felt terrible at being so happy that she'd forgotten the hardship he had to be going through … forgotten this aspect of Gabe's personality. Ruthless practicality might be part of her husband's nature, but it hurt her to think of him as callously unforgiving.
About to take the coward's way out and leave, she was caught off-guard by Corey's shouted greeting. Walking over, she smiled at both him and the little girl in his arms. "Hello."
"This here's Christy. My daughter," he explained, as if afraid she wouldn't remember.
"Nice to meet you, Christy. Your daddy's told me all about you."
The shy child half hid her face in her father's neck but Jess could see her smile. She felt even worse. "Corey, I'm so sorry about what happened."
Corey shook his head. "It was my fault. Mr. Dumont was right to be piss-I mean angry," he substituted, glancing down at his daughter. "I would have been mad as anything, too, if that had been my wife and all. I wanted to tell you I quit.
Smoking, I mean. For good."
"That's great." She was stunned by his lack of bitterness. "Do you still want me to do the sketch?"
"Would you?" At her nod, he grinned. "Could you do it from a photo?"
"Sure. If that's what you want."
"It's just that we won't be in town for long. I came back to pick up my mom and Christy. Needed time to set up things." His smile was very young. "The work's a little different with the vines and everything, but I think I like it even better than station stuff."
Relief rushed through her as she realized he must've found employment in a wine-making region. "Oh, I'm so glad for you."
"Anyway, we'd better be getting on home. It was nice talking to you Mrs.
Dumont."
"You too, Corey. Good luck with your new job." She was about to move on when he slapped his forehead and stopped.
"I'm such a dolt." He made a face. "I wanted to thank you."
"Thank me? For what?"
"For talking to Mr. Dumont. I figured it must've been you." His expression was so sincere she felt her world rock on its axis. "If he hadn't called his friend in Marlborough, I might've been looking for work forever."
Jess somehow managed to nod. "Have a safe trip."
"Thanks. And don't worry, I won't stuff up this chance."
Watching him leave, she put her hand on one of the shelves and tried to steady her mind. Gabe had not only listened to what she'd had to say, he'd acted on it.
Then why hadn't the dratted man told her?
Because he wanted to keep her at a distance.
So long as she thought of him as unnecessarily harsh, she'd never fully trust him, which played right into his hands. For her husband, a man who'd loved and lost everyone who mattered, her mistrust was far easier to accept than either her love or her care.
Jess's face cracked into a slow smile. Too damn bad for Gabe that she'd just found him out.
Buoyant after what she'd learned, she was almost ready to tell Gabe everything about her own feelings, willing to take a chance on the man she knew him to be.
Perhaps she'd whisper it to him in bed, she thought, knowing she had to choose her moment.
"So," she asked after dinner that day, curled up on the sofa in his study, "do you want to know if it's a boy or a girl when I'm far enough along for them to tell, or do you want it to be a surprise?"
"I don't want to know."
"Really? I don't know if I'm going to be able to stand the suspense."
"That's not what I meant." He put down the fax he'd been examining. "I told you, I don't want to be a father. Don't involve me in anything where my participation isn't strictly necessary."
Staring at the implacable mask of his face, she tried to find some hint of softness. Of hope. "But Gabe, now that we've talked … You're nothing like him. You don't have to worry about hurting your child."
He circled his desk to face her. "Don't try and psychoanalyze me on the basis of something you know less than nothing about. I've made my decision."
Feeling dread chill her blood, she unfolded her legs and stood. "You can't mean that."
He ran a hand through his hair. "I won't ignore the kid if that's what you're worried about. I just want him or her around as little as possible."
"And how will being shipped off to boarding school and summer camps from such a young age make our child feel loved?"
His cheekbones stood out against skin stretched taut. "I'll take care of everything the baby needs."
"I see." And she did, far too clearly. "Love isn't part of the bargain?"
"It never was."
She flinched at the brutal execution of all her silent hopes and dreams. "I made that bargain for me. You're not going to cheat our child out of it!"
"I never lied to you about who I was."