Authors: Rochelle Alers
“Wait until the time is right to act upon it,” she whispered, then parted her lips to accept the heat of his kiss. It sang through her veins like the words of the love song they’d just shared. Somehow she found the strength to pull away. Running her forefinger down the length of his nose, she gave him a demure smile. “I think it’s time we close this nightclub.”
He nodded, smiling. “We’ll reopen it again after I prepare dinner for you.”
“You cook?”
“A little.”
Summer gave him a skeptical look. “Why can’t I believe you whenever you say that word?”
Rising to his feet, he pulled her gently off the floor, brushing a gentle kiss across her forehead. “I thought in the eyes of the law everyone is considered innocent until proven guilty.”
She wanted to tell him that she was the law, but held her tongue. Instead, she enjoyed the protection of his arm around her waist as they made their way to the kitchen.
Summer sat in a dining area in the kitchen, across the table from Gabriel, her gaze fixed on the outline of his mouth under the black mustache. The facial hair was new because in all of the photographs she had seen of him he had been clean-shaven. The mustache changed his face, adding maturity and character.
She wasn’t certain which of his features she liked best: his hair or eyes. The thick, wavy salt-and-pepper hair flowing down his back was masculine and
very
sexy. Then, there were his eyes—large gold-flecked and penetrating. It was as if they missed nothing, and there were times when she believed he could see what she managed to hide: a sensual longing she had never felt before. And she was mature enough to know that if she did sleep with Gabriel it would only elicit a physical dependence on him—a dependence she could not risk because of her dangerous masquerade.
She felt lethargic after eating a cup of flavorful lobster bisque, a whole grilled red snapper with grilled asparagus spears, cherry tomatoes, husked sweet corn and shiitake mushrooms in yellow bell peppers. She had barely touched a green salad of endive, watercress, romaine, and spinach leaves tossed with a balsamic vinaigrette dressing.
Gabriel hadn’t permitted her to assist him when he prepared everything in half the time it would have taken her. She had sat on a high stool watching him move around the spacious kitchen with the same familiarity and ease he had exhibited when playing an instrument.
Summer took a sip of sparkling water, musing.
He doesn’t need a woman, not when he can take care of himself
. Gabriel had a home built for his personal needs and professional specifications. He was a more than competent cook, and he had the resources to go anywhere he wanted and whenever he wanted. He had it all: looks, talent, and money.
Gabriel raised his head and caught Summer staring at him. His gaze dropped from her eyes to her throat, where a pulse throbbed with her increased respiration, and down to the soft outline of her breasts under the long-sleeved polo.
“Tell me about Summer,” he said in a quiet voice.
She stared over his shoulder. “There’s not much to tell.”
Gabriel put down his fork. “Tell me what little there is.”
“I was born thirty-three years ago on the first day of summer. Hence my name.” She watched Gabriel’s expressive eyebrows flicker with this disclosure. “My parents met in medical school and married during their third year. After their internship and residency, they decided to join the Peace Corps. They were assigned to a remote village somewhere in Peru. Once my mother discovered she was pregnant, she came back to the States, while my father stayed. Six months after my birth, my mother rejoined my father, leaving me in the care of my grandmother.”
Leaning forward, Gabriel shook his head in disbelief. “Are you saying your grandmother raised you?”
An expression of hardness settled into Summer’s delicate features. “She fed me, combed my hair, taught me my prayers, attended the parent-teacher conferences, and encouraged me to pursue a career in theater.”
“When did you see your parents?”
“They returned twice a year for short visits. They came back to stay the year I turned five. Mother was pregnant again. I suppose the impending birth of a second child quelled her wanderlust. Mother and Father bought a large house. I didn’t want to leave my grandmother, so Mother asked her to come live with us. The happiest day of my life was when Mother brought Charles home from the hospital and we all gathered around the crib to tell him how beautiful and special he was.
“My mother stayed home for four years. Once Charles was enrolled in a private nursery school, she joined my father on staff at a municipal hospital. They worked long hours and different shifts, so it was Gram who stepped in once again, becoming my surrogate mother.
“All of my friends thought it was cool that I had two parents who were doctors. What they didn’t know was that I would’ve given anything to have a mother and father who worked a nine-to-five. At least I would’ve seen them more than I did.”
Lowering her head, she stared down at her plate, struggling with the resentment that surfaced when she least expected it. She lifted her chin, meeting Gabriel’s stunned gaze across the table. “After Charles was killed my parents contacted the World Health Organization for an overseas assignment. They’re now in
South Africa working as part of a medical team hoping to stem the spread of AIDS.”
Picking up the goblet, she took another sip of water. “When I have my children I will
never
abandon them—not for anything or anyone.”
Gabriel stared at Summer, unable to believe she had changed in front of his eyes. Her expression was filled with a cold loathing that frightened him. He met her gaze, seeing pain, pain he was helpless to vanquish.
And if you had my children you would never have to abandon them—not for me or anything
.
A band tightened around his chest when he realized his unspoken thoughts. What was wrong with him? In the past he had never considered marriage or fathering a child. It wasn’t something he wanted. He was content, living day-to-day, writing and possibly teaching music. He had volunteered to participate in the cultural arts grant program after interning at a middle school during his graduate studies.
His passion with music he fully understood; his reaction to Summer he could not.
Perhaps, he thought, he shouldn’t try to analyze his feelings. He would follow his own advice and enjoy their time together without a declaration of love or a commitment.
Covering one of her hands with his, he tightened his grip when she attempted to free herself. “Do you know what kind of man you’d want to marry and father your children?”
Summer’s cold resentment vanished, and she couldn’t keep herself from laughing. Shaking her head, she said, “No. How about you, Gabriel? Have you selected that special woman you want to spend the rest of your life with?”
“No.” There was no expression on his face. He released her hand. “Do you want to begin work on planning the concert tonight, or would you prefer we start early tomorrow morning?”
Summer glanced at her watch. It was after seven-thirty and she was beginning to feel fatigued. She usually got up before five to jog her requisite three miles, and covering three classes a day for the injured instructor had tested her mental stamina.
“Tomorrow.”
“How about a movie before we turn in?”
She smiled. “Sure.”
“Why don’t you select one while I clean up the kitchen?”
“Let me help you.”
“No, Summer.”
“Yes, Gabriel.”
They stared at each other, neither willing to concede. In the end, it was Gabriel. “Okay.”
Summer sat on the love seat next to Gabriel, his right arm resting over the back. The rhythmic cadence of drumming came through hidden speakers as the opening scene from
Last of the Mohicans
appeared on the large screen. She loved history, and because Daniel Day Lewis was one of her favorite actors, she had chosen the film. The fingers of Gabriel’s left hand tapped on his thigh, keeping tempo with the magnificent soundtrack.
“We could use a tune like that one,” Summer whispered to Gabriel. The scene was a group of actors dressed in Eighteenth-Century costumes dancing to the music of an Irish reel.
He nodded. “That’s from “The Gael,” he said softly.
She experienced a flutter in the pit of her stomach in the next scene as Hawkeye kissed Cora Munro, the character played by Madeline Stowe. Gabriel’s arm had slipped down to Summer’s shoulder, his fingers tightening as he pulled her closer.
Summer felt herself being drawn into the lives of the characters on the screen and that of the man holding her in his protective grasp. All of her resistance fled as she slumped lower, her head resting on his solid thigh. Reclining, she stared at the screen in the darkened room while Gabriel’s fingers traced the outline of her ear and the column of her neck.
After a while, she closed her eyes with the soothing stroking motion, falling into a deep dreamless sleep.
Gabriel knew by the measured rising and falling of Summer’s chest that she had fallen asleep. Staring at the serene expression on her face, he loathed having to move her. Reaching for the remote, he paused the DVD.
Gathering her gently in an embrace, he stood up, walked out of the media room and made his way up the staircase. She did not stir when he placed her on the bed and covered her with a quilt. Moving over to the French doors, he drew the pale silk drapes over the floor-to-ceiling glass.
The antique clock on the mantel softly chimed the quarter hour. It wasn’t ten, much too early for him to retire for bed. It was a Friday night, the beginning of the weekend and he did not have to get up early for classes the next day. He took one last look at Summer, then walked out of her bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him.
* * *
Gabriel sat on the porch, rocking gently. He had pulled on a cotton sweater over his T-shirt to counter the cool nighttime temperature. The sound of water washing up on the beach was calming and hypnotic, and he tried not thinking about the woman sleeping in an upstairs bedroom, but failed miserably.
He had found her feisty, but then without warning, she exhibited a vulnerability that tugged at his heart. Her mother and father were alive, yet she had grown up separated from them for more than half of her life because of their humanitarian causes. Didn’t they know that their only cause should have been raising and nurturing their children?
She had referred to her parents as Mother and Father instead of Mom and Dad. How different it had been for him, his brother and sisters. There had never been a day when as children they did not awaken in their own beds and not see either their mother or father. Once his mother decided to resume her nursing career, she had become a private duty nurse. Serena Morris-Cole refused to accept a case that would take her away from her young children at night, because of her ritual of talking to each one before they recited their nightly prayers.
Gabriel became suddenly alert when he heard the distinctive sound of an automobile’s tires on the sand-littered road. He stood up. A car he did not recognize maneuvered into the driveway and stopped in front of the two-car garage. He waited, not moving, for the driver to alight from the mid-size vehicle. Distinctive lines fanned out around his eyes when he recognized the slender figure striding toward him.
Gabriel bounded off the porch, arms outstretched.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” He was not disappointed when he felt the warmth of his sister’s embrace and her soft kiss on his cheek.
“I had to see you and give you my good news.”
Cradling Alexandra’s face between his palms, he smiled down her while shaking his head. “You could’ve used the telephone, Alex.” There was a hint of laughter in his voice.
“I was already in Boston so I thought I—”
“When did you get in?” he asked, interrupting her.
“This afternoon. I had a scheduled meeting with several members who are overseeing the northeast Trust’s Waterfront Historic Action League in New Bedford.” She had come to support the WHALE project, whose focus was the rehabilitation of a fire-damaged commercial building in the historic whaling community. “I’m scheduled to fly out of Logan tomorrow morning at eleven. I came because I have good news for you.”
As an architectural historian, Alexandra Cole had become a liaison for the National Trust for Historic Preservation’s Northeast Region, which included Connecticut, Delaware, Massachusetts, Maine, New Hampshire, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, and Vermont.
“Come inside and we’ll talk.” He led Alexandra up the porch and into the house. Gabriel loved both his sisters, but Alexandra was his favorite because Ana had her twin brother, Jason. It was Alex he’d watched over and sought to protect because she was sentimental and passionately romantic. As a child she’d go into hysterics and pine endlessly whenever a family pet died or ran away, and their father finally had to issue an edict: no more pets.
Directing her into the family room, Gabriel studied his sister. At thirty, she appeared incredibly chic. Her stylishly cut short curly hair framed a doll-like face with large gold-brown eyes, a pert nose, and full mouth. A black wool crepe suit, ivory silk blouse, black leather pumps, a strand of perfectly matched pearls around her neck and studs in her pierced lobes completed her corporate look. The summer sun had darkened her olive skin. She could have easily become a model for a tanning lotion.
Easing her down to a love seat, he held one of her hands. “Do you want something to eat or drink?”
Alexandra shook her head, smiling. “No, thank you. I ate dinner at the hotel before I left.” She glanced around the room. “I really like what Aunt Parris has done here. Your house looks like a home. All you need is a wife and a few kids to make it look completely lived-in.” She had purchased a two-bedroom condominium in Arlington, Virginia.
Gabriel ignored his sister’s reference to a wife and children. He peered closely at her. “Tell me your good news.”
A mysterious smile curved her full lips. “I’m getting married.”
Gabriel was momentarily speechless with shock. Whenever he spoke to Alexandra she hadn’t mentioned she was dating anyone. A muscle in his jaw tensed.
“Who is he?” The three words were squeezed out between clenched teeth.
Alexandra stood up and walked over to the French doors overlooking the rear of the house. Strategically placed floodlights illuminated the backyard. “Please, Gabe.”
Rising to his feet, he closed the distance between them. “Please what?”
Her hands closed into tight fists, her nails biting into the tender flesh of her palms. “Don’t say it like that.”
“How else can I say it, Alex?” His voice was low, soothing. “You come to me in the middle of the night with the news you’re engaged to be married. I’m shocked, stunned and surprised.”
Turning around, Alexandra stared up at her brother. “I thought you would be happy for me.”
“I am, Alex. But … but it’s so unexpected. You never said you were seeing anyone.” Her mysterious smile was back. “Do I know him?”