Authors: Rochelle Alers
Summer lay in bed, her head resting on a mound of pillows, a cordless telephone anchored between her chin and shoulder. “I don’t believe it, Gram!
You
have a boyfriend?”
“What’s so wrong with me having a man friend?”
“Nothing, Gram. It’s just that this is the first time I’ve ever heard you talk about another man other than Grandpa.” She couldn’t remember her grandfather, who had passed away in his sleep from an enlarged heart the year she turned three. “Is he nice?”
“Very nice, baby girl.”
She smiled. Virginia Brown had always called her that. “Where did you meet him?”
“In church.”
“Wonderful. At least you know he’s a churchgoing man.”
“Amen. You know I can’t tolerate no heathen. Henry’s a widower. He lost his wife last year, and you should have seen those loose hussies sashaying around him like bees to honey. He said he picked me out because I wasn’t like the others.”
“Is he retired?”
“Now he is. He owns a construction company that he turned over to his boys. You should see what he had
them do to the house, baby girl. I have an enclosed deck on the back I can use all year round.”
“That’s fabulous. I can’t wait to see it when I come out there for Christmas.”
“I … I don’t think you should make plans to come to St. Louis for Christmas.”
Summer sat up. “Why not?”
“Henry is taking me on a cruise to Hawaii.”
“Oh.” The single word was loaded with disappointment.
“Of course we are going to have separate cabins. I told him I don’t hold with no fornicating business. After all, I’m a good Christian woman.”
Summer had to smile. “Of course you are, Gram.”
“How you doing, baby girl? You taking care of yourself?”
“Yes, Gram.”
She asked Summer the same two questions every time they spoke to each other. It was Virginia’s way of asking if her undercover work was going well. They had made it a practice never to discuss what she did for a living on the telephone.
“Have you met a nice boy?”
Summer’s expression brightened. “Yes, I have.”
There came a pregnant pause. “You did?”
“Yes. He’s very nice,” she said, repeating what her grandmother has said about her Henry.
“What does he do?”
“He’s a composer.”
“I thought you said you never wanted to get involved with someone in the entertainment business.”
“That was when I was in the business.”
“When am I going to meet him?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping to bring him home with me for Christmas.”
“If you want to do that I can always cancel my cruise.”
“Don’t you dare do that!”
“But I want to meet your young man.”
“I have several school holidays. We have a week off in February and the spring recess in April. We’ll plan something at the beginning of the year.”
She listened to the three letters her mother had sent to Virginia from South Africa. In all of the letters her mother had written that she was seriously thinking of retiring and returning to the States.
Summer wondered if it was too late for her and her parents to become a real family. How different, she thought, her family was from the Coles. She talked to her grandmother for another few minutes before hanging up.
She fought hard against the tears she refused to let fall when she thought of her estrangement from her parents. And now it was her grandmother. She did not blame Virginia for grasping companionship and a modicum of happiness after being widowed for thirty years. After all, she was entitled because not only had she raised her daughter, but also a granddaughter.
Throwing back the blanket, she headed for the bathroom. This was one of those times when she did not want to be alone.
Gabriel thought he was hearing things when the doorbell chimed throughout the house. His fingers stilled on the piano keys, and he listened again. It was the doorbell. Rising from the piano bench, he made his
way across the living room, through the entryway, and to the front door. He opened it, and froze. Standing on the porch was the last person he had expected to see. She was wearing a dark barn jacket, jeans, sweater, and boots.
“Do you think you could put me up for the night?”
Reaching out, Gabriel pulled Summer to his chest, rocking her from side-to-side. “Of course, baby.” He kissed the end of her nose. It was cold. “Come on in where it’s warm.” He took her overnight bag from her loose grip, pulling her into the house. He left the bag on a chair before he closed the door behind them.
Within seconds, Summer was enveloped in a soothing heat that warmed her inside and out. “I didn’t want to be alone tonight.”
Gabriel led her into the living room, easing her down to sit beside him on a love seat. He stared at her, seeing what she had tried to conceal: a profound sadness.
Wrapping his arms around her body, he settled her across his lap. “What’s the matter, darling?”
She told him about her telephone conversation with her grandmother, and her aborted plan to return to St. Louis for the Christmas recess.
He closed his eyes, feeling her pain and alienation as surely as it was his own. Didn’t she know how much he loved her? He certainly had told her enough. She wasn’t alone—she had him.
“There’s no way you’re going to spend Christmas alone, Summer.” Her head came up, meeting his gaze. “You’ll share Christmas with me, and my family.”
Summer shook her head. It was one thing to go to Florida as a guest in his sister’s wedding, but sharing
Christmas with the Coles went beyond social correctness.
“I can’t, Gabriel.”
“And, why not?”
“Because I’m not family.”
His eyes widened until she could see the dark brown centers in pools of gold. “But, you could be.”
For a long moment, she looked back at him. “How?” The single word was a breathless whisper.
“Marry me, Summer Montgomery.”
“I can’t,” she said quickly. If she married Gabriel it would compromise her mission—her true purpose for teaching at Weir.
His eyes darkened dangerously as a muscle twitched in his lean jaw. “Why not?”
She bit down on her lower lip. “I love you, Gabriel. I love you enough to want to spend the rest of my life with you. But…”
“What!” He’d spat out the word. It was the first time he’d ever offered to share his life with a woman, and she’d thrown his proposal back in his face.
Fool!
He was a damn fool.
At that moment he wanted to smash things. Yell, scream at the top of his lungs. How had he become so vulnerable so quickly? Summer touched his face, and he forced himself not to pull away.
“I will marry you,” she said in a quiet voice, “but not until the school year ends.”
“What?” he repeated.
She offered him a sensual smile. “I accept your proposal of marriage.”
He looked at her as if she had spoken a language he did not understand. “Are you saying yes?”
She curved her arms around his neck. “Yes, yes, yes!”
Gabriel stood up, cradling her to his chest. Relief and joy merged, making him lightheaded. He sat down again, dipped his head, and kissed her, sealing her promise.
“If you want to wait, then that’s okay with me.” He knew he would wait for an eternity if it meant having her in his life.
Her smile was dazzling. “Thank you.”
“Tell me what it is you want.”
“All I want is to become your wife and the mother of our children.”
He shook his head. “I’m not talking about that, Summer. I need to know if you want a large wedding, or something small and very private. Do you want to marry in Florida or in St. Louis? Do you want to live here or in Missouri?”
She placed her fingertips over his lips. “Enough, sweetheart.”
He pulled her hand down. “I want you to know that I’ll do anything for you.”
“Right now I want to go upstairs and have you hold me until I fall asleep.”
He nuzzled her ear, smiling. “Your wish is my command.”
At that moment she recalled Alexandra saying that the women in her family ruled, while their men served them. Is that what she had to look forward to?
Gabriel removed her jacket, boots, and socks. Next came her jeans and sweater. Clad in only her bra and panties, he carried her up the staircase and into his bedroom. Light from a table lamp in the sitting room
provided enough illumination for him to make out the bed.
Holding her effortlessly with one arm, he pulled back the antique quilt and placed her on the cool, crisp sheets. Sinking down to the mattress, he lay on his side, staring at her shadowy form. Pulling her closer, he held her until her breathing deepened and she fell asleep.
He found Summer to be an enigma. Just when he thought he had figured her out, she changed before his eyes like a chameleon. She was stubborn and willful, but then she was soft and giving.
He’d attended all the auditions for the spring musical, volunteering to accompany the students who either had forgotten or did not bring music. He’d found her patient when a student had an attack of nerves or stage fright. She usually told them to wait until later or come back another day.
He saw the excitement on her face when she discovered one with natural talent. He’d watched her dance and sing along with Robyn Phillips when she had performed her incredible rendition of Aretha Franklin’s hits. There was no doubt Summer would inspire her musical theater students to reach beyond themselves to become the best they could be.
She had fought him and her feelings the first time he’d invited her to Cotuit, but this time she had come without an invitation. She had come because she needed him as much as he needed her.
Summer Cole. He chuckled when he realized what the two words denoted. Mrs. Gabriel Cole. Summer Montgomery-Cole. He smiled. He liked the latter.
He slipped off the bed and went downstairs to extinguish some of the lights. Retracing his steps, he
walked into the bathroom to shower and brush his teeth. When he returned to the bedroom, Summer had changed positions. Her head lay on his pillow. He managed to move her without waking her, then slipped into bed and pulled her hips against his groin.
He closed his eyes, and within minutes he had joined her in sleep.
Summer woke early and slipped out of bed without waking Gabriel. She showered in the half-bath on the first floor. It was five-fifteen by the time she got into her car and headed back to Whitman. She had forgotten she was scheduled to meet Lucas at the diner at six-thirty. He was waiting for her when she walked in.
Smiling, she slipped into the booth opposite him. “Good morning.”
He stared at her sweater and jeans. “You didn’t jog this morning?”
“No.”
“What do you have for me?”
“Not much.”
“Give me what you have.”
Summer’s gaze narrowed as she studied her boss. “Are you in a hurry?”
Leaning back against the Naugahyde-covered booth, Lucas closed his eyes. “No. I’m just tired. I want to go back home and sleep.”
“Why didn’t you call me and cancel this meeting?”
He ran a hand over his hair. “I hadn’t thought about it.”
A shadow of annoyance swept over her face. “You
didn’t think about it, Lucas? I could’ve stayed in bed this morning.”
“With Gabriel Cole?”
She recoiled as if he had punched her again. “What are you doing, Lucas? Have you set someone up to watch me? Because if you have then you’d better call them off.”
“Everybody watches everybody.”
“That’s a load of crap, and you know it. Why me?”
His face reddened. “Because you’re spending more time in Gabriel Cole’s bed than you have been collecting evidence for us.”
She struggled to maintain calm. “I’m going to forget I heard that. I can’t collect what doesn’t exist. There was one incident of a girl being suspended for smoking weed in a bathroom.
One
, count it, one smelly joint,” she said through clenched teeth. “Somehow that doesn’t count as high-volume drug dealing.”
The orange-haired waitress came over to the table and placed Lucas’s order in front of him. She smiled at Summer. “Can I get you anything? We have raisin bread this morning.”
Summer shook her head. “No, thank you.”
Lucas picked up his fork. “Bring her a cup of decaf coffee.”
“I said I don’t want anything.”
Lucas glared at the waitress. “Bring it,
please.”
“Yes, sir.”
Summer stared at the woman’s retreating back. “I’m going to count to ten, Lucas. But if that waitress comes back before I finish counting, then you’re going to be wearing that cup of coffee. One, two three, four—”
“I’m sorry, Renegade.” Lucas closed his eyes for the second time. “I’m truly sorry.”
“I’m getting tired of your apologies. And I want you to stay out of my personal life. I may work for the government, but I’m still entitled to have a private life. And let me tell you before your snitch does, I’m engaged.” She saw him glance at her bare left hand. “Gabriel and I plan to marry next summer.”
A cold smile curled his thin lips. “Ain’t you a lucky son-of-a-bitch.”
“Which one am I? Lucky or a bitch, Lucas?”
“
Lucky
. All you have to do is flutter your lashes and you’ve managed to land one of the wealthiest men in the country. Not bad for a little girl from St. Louie.”
The cynicism of his remark grated on her, and this was the first time she could remember verbally sparring with her boss. “I stopped being a
girl
a long time ago.” She gathered her handbag. “There’s going to be a dance at the school on Halloween. It should be an interesting event. And in case you’re interested, I’m going with Gabriel Cole.” She stood up. “Leave a voice mail message on the cell phone when you want to meet again.” Reaching into her handbag, she pulled out a five dollar bill, dropping it on the table. “That’s for the coffee.”
She walked out of the diner, smiling at the waitress balancing a cup a coffee in her right hand. “I left your tip on the table.”
It wasn’t until Summer was seated in her car that the violent shaking began. Miraculously, she had successfully repressed her rage. It was obvious that Lucas Shelby was either experiencing burnout or meltdown, and the result was that she had become the receptacle for his bitterness.
Covering her face with her hands, she took deep breaths to force oxygen into her lungs. The constriction
in her chest eased. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was exactly seven. Retrieving her cell phone from her handbag, she scrolled through the directory and punched a key for Gabriel’s number. He answered after the second ring.
“Hello.”
She smiled. She loved hearing his deep, Southern drawl. “Hello.”
“Where are you, Summer?”
“I’m in Whitman. I have to pick up something at my apartment.”
“You could’ve left me a note telling me where you were going. When I woke up and couldn’t find you I thought you’d gone jogging. But when I didn’t see your car I came close to losing it.”
“I’m all right, darling. Let me pack a few more outfits, then I’ll be back. Have breakfast waiting for me.”
“What do you want?”
“Surprise me.”
His sensual laugh came through the earpiece. “You may regret saying that.”
“No way. I’ll see you in about an hour.”
“I love you, Summer.”
“Love you back.” Pressing a button, she ended the call.
She returned to her apartment, searched through her closet for a suit for Monday, and then filled her ubiquitous leather tote with jogging gear, sweatpants, and several changes of underwear. If she needed T-shirts she could always use Gabriel’s.
Gabriel was sitting on the porch waiting for her when she drove into his driveway. The moment she felt his arms close around her she forgot everything that had occurred that morning: Lucas Shelby, and his
scathing remarks, and that she was an undercover DEA agent.
“What’s wrong with you, Gabriel?”
He gave Summer a sidelong glance, white teeth sparkling under his moustache. “Nothing.”
He had practically thrown her into his car once he took her bags from her, leaving them on the floor in the entryway. He closed and locked the door to the house; within minutes he was speeding toward Boston.
“Nothing?” she repeated. “You’re acting like a crazy man.” Trees and telephone poles whizzed by as he increased his speed. “Slow down before you’re pulled over.”
His long fingers grazed the gearshift before he shifted into a higher gear. “You asked me to surprise you, and I’m going to grant your wish.”
“What I didn’t ask is for you to put our lives in jeopardy.”
The low racy car took a curve so tightly it felt as if they were standing still. Gabriel’s gaze was glued to the winding road in front of him. “Don’t worry about us, sweetheart. We’re going to live to be old and gray.”
She glared at him. “You’re gray now.”
He shook his head. “That’s cold, Summer.”
A mischievous smile softened her mouth. “I call it as I see it.”
“Are you saying I’m too old for you?”
“Maybe,” she teased.
“Too old to do what?” When she didn’t answer, he said, “I’m certainly not too old to lust after you.”
“Is that all you can come up with?”
“Do me a favor, darling?”
“What, Gabriel?”
“Look over here and see if
it’s
up.”
It took her several minutes to discern what the
it
was, and her face burned with embarrassment. “I… don’t believe you,” she sputtered. “You’ve got a dirty mind.”
“Yes, I do,” he confirmed, deadpan. “That’s because just looking at you, kissing you, and making love to you makes me
hot
—as hot as your name. So, don’t blame me for harboring what you call dirty thoughts. I’m a man with what I consider a rather healthy libido. However, what we’ve experienced together has been rather conventional.
“Then there are a few times when I want to share the unconventional, the unexpected with you. Today is one of those days. So, sit back and relax, Summer. I’m going to take you on a ride I hope you’ll remember for a long time.”
She did sit back, but something wouldn’t permit her to relax. All of her senses were operating on full alert when Gabriel maneuvered into a driveway leading to one of Boston’s finest hotels. A valet opened the door for her, helping her out, while Gabriel came around to escort her to the entrance.
The morning and afternoon passed in a blur of activity after they were shown to a suite with views of the city and the harbor. A continental breakfast awaited them, and an hour later a member of the hotel’s staff came and announced it was time for Summer’s scheduled day of beauty.
A consultant at the hotel’s beauty spa took down all of the information for her vital statistics before she
was shown to a dressing room to disrobe. She was massaged and exfoliated, then had fallen asleep for more than an hour after her massage. She was escorted into a steam room for another half hour. A tiny woman who reminded her of Kim Cheung led her to a charming café where she dined on slivers of apples and pears, a narrow wedge of low-fat cheese, and a cup of herbal tea.
She was shampooed, trimmed, blown-out, curled and waxed to remove superfluous facial and body hair. A manicure and pedicure followed. By this time she was ready to bite into anything that hadn’t moved for more than five minutes.
It was after five o’clock when she peered into a wall-to-wall mirror to see a face staring back at her she did not recognize. A makeup artist had done her face so skillfully that all she could do was stare numbly. He’d softened her eyes with a blending of shadows in hues of sable, mink, and silver fox. He’d also applied a soft dark brown powder to her waxed eyebrows. The redefined shape of her brows afforded an expression of her appearing slightly surprised. Her cheeks were flushed with a soft raspberry blush and there was only a hint of color on lips that appeared a glossy nude.
“You like?”
She smiled at the reflection of the man in the mirror. “Yes, I like.”
She liked everything: her hair, face, and the feeling of total relaxation she had not felt in years. Her bangs had been trimmed and fell in soft precision over her forehead. A hairstylist had relieved her of two inches of hair, and the result was a flattering blunt-cut style that barely skimmed her shoulders.
Another woman led her into a dressing room. A
classic sheath dress in a shimmering platinum-gray liquid satin hung from a padded hanger. Undergarments in the same pale gray and a pair of darker gray silk covered pumps sat on a nearby table, along with a bottle of her favorite perfume.
“Come, Madame Cole, I will help you to dress.”
Summer smiled. It was the first time anyone had called her Madame. And she wanted to tell the woman she was not Mrs. Cole. She would not claim that name until next summer.
Dots of perfume were applied to her wrists and pulse points before she put on her lacy underwear. The color reminded her of storm clouds. Sheer pale hose followed. She stepped into the dress, staring at her reflection. Sleeveless with a square-cut neckline, its style was similar to the dress she had worn to Alexandra and Merrick’s wedding.
“Your husband has exquisite taste in women’s clothing, Madame Cole.”
Summer nodded like someone in a trance. “Yes, he does.”
She removed the top off a small white box Summer hadn’t noticed before. “Now for your accessories.” The woman held up a single strand of large perfectly matched South Sea pearls. “Please sit down, Madame.”
Even without putting on the pumps, at five-eight, Summer towered over the diminutive woman. She sat, closing her eyes, feeling the weight of the exquisite baubles resting on her collarbone. A pair of pearl earrings was screwed into her pierced lobes.
“Here is your purse, Madame.”
Summer opened her eyes to see her holding a small gray silk-sateen bag from a silver chain. “Thank you.”
“Samples of your lip color and tiny packets with
pre-applied face powder are in the bag.” Summer took the bag. “Your shoes.”
Summer slipped into the pumps, smiling. They were a perfect fit. Everything she wore was a perfect fit. That explained why the consultant had requested her dress, shoe, bra, and panty size.
Rising to her feet, she smiled at the dresser. “Thank you so much.”
The woman returned her smile. “Thank you, and please thank your husband for his generosity.” She glanced at the clock on the wall over the door. “Come, come. He is waiting for you.”
When Summer had told Gabriel to surprise her, she never thought it would end with her spending a day of being pampered at a hotel spa. Gabriel could surprise her any day and anytime he wanted.
She was escorted down a carpeted hallway and out a door that led directly into the hotel lobby. Standing only a few feet away was Gabriel, grinning. Summer closed her eyes briefly and returned his grin with a dazzling one of her own.
He wore an exquisitely tailored charcoal gray double-breasted, single-buttoned wool and silk blend suit. The stark white shirt with a spread collar made his tanned face look even darker. A dark gray silk tie was knotted in an exacting Windsor knot. Her gaze moved with agonizing slowness over the sharp crease in his trousers falling at the precise break over a pair of black wingtip shoes. As her gaze reversed itself, he crossed his arms over his chest and she noticed a pair of simple silver and onyx cuff links in the French cuffs.
Summer wasn’t certain who moved first, but seconds later she found herself cradled against Gabriel’s broad chest. The scent of his cologne and aftershave
weakened her knees, and she clung to him like a drowning swimmer.
“I love the surprise.”
Pulling back, he stared at her professionally made-up face. “You look exquisite.”
She lowered her gaze, charming him with the demure gesture. “Madame Cole says,
merci
.”
His lifted his eyebrows in a questioning expression. “Is that what they’ve been calling you?” She nodded. “When I called the hotel to make a reservation the desk clerk must have listed us as Mr. and Mrs. Gabriel Cole.”
“Does that bother you?”
“Of course not. What bothers me is that I have to wait another eight months before it becomes official.”
Summer wanted to tell him that she would marry him the next day if she could. Reaching up, her ran her fingertips over his mustache. “Thank you for everything. And you’re right. I’ll remember this ride forever.”