A Damaged Trust (13 page)

“Are you sure?” She nodded. Gabe continued, “Well, if you don’t mind, I think I will. Actually, a shower sounds great.” He stood, made as if to go, and the hesitated, swivelling his head back toward Carrie as she finished up the salad, her head bent and her mind concentrating on her work. “You know,” he commented, “you really are terrific.”

She looked startled. “Why, what brought this on?” she asked and grinned at him. Gabe looked very big to her, his dark face highlighted by his sparkling eyes.

He was leaning against the doorpost. “I know a great many women who would be upset at having to cook when they expected an evening out,” he told her. “And here you are, to all appearance, enjoying yourself. Girl, I think you’re nuts!”

Carrie laughed, and said,” Haven’t you ever heard what fun it is to do something at someone else’s house? If I was cooking at home, I’d be upset! No, that’s not true—I wouldn’t be. You’re tired, and I’m just being obliging, that’s all. Take me out some other time to make up for it.”

He nodded. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day. Next time, I promise, it’ll be my treat.” He winked at her and disappeared.

Carrie found a few magazines and brought them to the kitchen after setting two places in the dining room. She then checked the steaks that were sizzling in the pan on the stove. Another five minutes, she decided, would do it. Then she made herself comfortable at the table and started to leaf through the magazines, sipping now and then at her glass of wine, managing to finish it before Gabe came back downstairs.

“Soon she got up to check the steaks, and they were perfect. As she began to dish them onto a serving plate, a noise behind her made her look briefly over her shoulder. Gabe stood in the doorway, his hair damp and brushed neatly, and wearing a starched white shirt that was unbuttoned at the throat and rolled up at the elbows. He had on a pair of faded but clean jeans that stretched tight over thighs and hips. He looked revived, invigorated, and incredibly good. Carrie tried to concentrate on the steaks.

“Can I help with anything?” he asked, coming close and peering over her shoulder. His warm breath fanned her cheek and she could smell the fresh, soapy clean scent that was him, and no cologne. She breathed in deeply before answering.

“You might grab the salad from the refrigerator, and any salad dressings there might be,” she told him as she carried the steaks into the dining room.

He looked into the refrigerator. “Hmm,” he muttered, searching the cubicle. “We have French dressing, bleu cheese, and Italian.” This was called out loud enough so that Carrie could hear him.

“I like bleu cheese,” she called back.

“Bleu cheese for the madam, and the gentleman would like a touch of Italiana, please.” This floated out of the kitchen in an Italian accent. Carrie started to laugh as Gabe came into the dining room precariously balancing the two bottles of salad in one hand while carrying the salad bowl in the other. She quickly went to the rescue and caught the dressings just before he dropped them.

“Thank you, me kind lady.” Gabe’s Italian accent suddenly turned Irish, and Carrie was hard put to it to finish her meal that evening, for all her laughing. The simple meal was excellent, although afterwards, she couldn’t remember what her steak tasted like. She was completely entranced with Gabe—his deep voice, his gleaming smile, the elegant movement of his hands.

He appeared as interested in Carrie as she was in him. She was fully aware of how his eyes followed her every movement and how his face lit up when, after she left to put away the uneaten salad and start some coffee, she came back into the room.

“Would you like to move into the living room for the coffee?” he asked her as they relaxed after the meal. She started to tidy the table up, but he forestalled her. “Leave that. I’ll clean it up later—no, really, I mean it. You’ve done more than enough for tonight.”

“All right, okay, I’m quitting.” She laughed at him from across the table. “Now, can I have my hands back, please?” Gabe had grabbed both of Carrie’s hands as she reached for the plates.

He grinned at her. “I’ll think about it.” Carrie jumped a little as she felt the warm, hard pressure of his fingers begin to stroke the backs of her hands, imprisoned still in his grasp. He, of course, felt her jump and this made him smile even more, but he refrained from saying anything. Instead, he let go of her hands. She felt disappointed.

“I’ll go and check on the coffee,” she said quickly and lightly, and jumped up from the table. As she moved into the kitchen, she heard footsteps from behind and glanced back.

“I’ll help.” Gabe was right behind her. In fact, he was so close that she felt unaccountably nervous.

“No, that’s all right, really. I don’t need any help,” she said, too fast. Then she shut up and told herself crossly how stupid she was sounding.

“You’ll need help with the tray if we’re going into the living room,” he replied calmly as he continued following her nevertheless. “I will carry it in for us.”

She quickly fixed the tray with everything they would need, then followed Gabe into the other room as he carried the tray. He moved, straight to the low table in front of the couch and set it down carefully. “Shall I pour?” she asked quietly. He nodded.

“If you don’t mind.”

“A natural slave, that’s what I am,” laughed Carrie. Gabe watched her with every sign of being fascinated, and she was well aware of the fact. It was a heady feeling, this sensation of mutual attraction between herself and such a handsome male. In fact, it was overpowering, and when she handed him his cup of coffee, she leaned back and deliberately tried to steer the conversation to something that was intelligent and requiring thought. Gabe allowed himself to be drawn into a discussion of photography. Soon they were arguing pleasantly about different viewpoints about various things, then Carrie persuaded him to get out some of his work so that she could look at it. When she saw some of his pictures, she was astounded.

“These are absolutely splendid!” she gasped as she leafed through a few photos. Gabe merely smiled. “Don’t look like that, they really are. I know you aren’t believing me, but I think you’ve got some definite talent for capturing a certain mood. This scene is excellent.” She held up a shot.

“I’m just a good amateur,” Gabe spoke quietly as he settled back comfortably with, a fresh cup of coffee. “You know I can’t hold a candle to your stuff.”

“I don’t agree!” Carrie sat bolt upright on the couch as she prepared to argue vehemently. “I’ve gone to school and studied photography and you haven’t— that’s the only difference between us. Look, see this picture? That is every bit as good as any of the pictures that I’ve shot.”

“You’ve really gotten upset, haven’t you?” asked Gabe with amusement. She started to blush. “No, now don’t go all embarrassed over it, for heaven’s sake! I’m just a little bit surprised, that’s all.” He studied her face. “You’re very serious about all this, aren’t you?”

Carrie refused to look at him, her face taking on a slightly mulish look. She set down her coffee cup and started to stack up his pictures very carefully.

“Carrie,” he said. She looked up then. “Can you see the difference between the two of us? I like this sort of work, and I enjoy spending my free time on it, but you love everything about it. And because of that love, you can achieve a whole different quality than I will ever be able to.” Gabe set down his coffee cup as he spoke.

“What do you love, Gabe?” Carrie stared off into space as she impulsively asked the question. All of a sudden, she was all tensed up as she waited for his answer.

It was a long time in coming. After a bit, he started to speak quietly, almost with a note of surprise in his voice. “I love the way your eyes take on a kind of spark whenever you get excited about anything.” She blinked. It was not what she had expected him to say. She looked down at her hands and relaxed them consciously. They had been all clenched up on her lap. Gabe’s voice sounded closer as he continued, “I love the line of your neck, the curve of your nape.”

His finger followed the delicate curve as he spoke, sending an unexpected shiver down her neck. She jumped, but made no attempt to move away, loving the feel of his warm hand cupped against her neck.

“And do you know what I’d love right now?” he asked as he slid up by her and stared down into her face. She stared back and found she couldn’t look away. His eyes were so large, and the lashes ridiculously long for a man. Her eyes travelled down the line of his cheekbone and the strong curve of his jaw, to his lips. He was speaking again. “What I’d love to do right now is to kiss those soft, soft lips…”

His lips weren’t soft at all as he suddenly descended on her mouth. The feel of his mouth moving so sensuously on hers shocked Carrie into a stillness as she experienced a fierce wave of sexual longing. Her hand felt its way up to his muscled neck, and then her other hand moved to the open collar of his shirt as she began to kiss him back. Gabe sighed deeply; she felt his chest heave with her hand. Then she was gathered up tightly in his strong arms and pulled down on the couch.

When she was released at last, both she and Gabe were breathing heavily, unsteadily. Her hands went up to her hair and began to pull the rest of the pins from its tangled mess, finding the ones he had missed. Her hands were shaking as she dropped them back into her lap, clasping them together.

Gabe stood abruptly after watching her try to tidy her hair, and began to pace the room in long and impatient strides. Carrie, her eyes drawn to the movement, looked his way and found him raking his hair back with one hand, tousling it worse than she had, and he headed over to a small cabinet and poured himself a drink. He stood with both feet wide apart and drank it swiftly down. Her own throat ached when she imagined the burning liquid coursing down his throat. There wasn’t anything said for quite a few minutes.

“I think I’d better take you home now,” he said suddenly, and she glanced up again. She didn’t pretend to misunderstand him, but instead got up quickly and looked about her for her scarf. Gabe found it by the couch, in a crumpled heap.

She took it silently and draped it around her neck without bothering to tie it, then she stared off into space for a moment, her brows drawn together.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Did I bring my purse with me?”

“I don’t think you did.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she sighed. “You can always let me know if I did.”

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yes.”

They walked out to the car in silence, each apparently wrapped up in private thoughts. Carrie climbed into the passenger side of the car as Gabe climbed in on his side. He set a sedate pace for the trip back and after they had reached the road, she pushed the button to roll down her window, and the glass slid smoothly down. A fresh, cool draught of air wafted through the open square and she settled back low in her seat, relaxing and breathing in the good summer breeze. She sensed rather than saw Gabe relax by her side, the silence becoming something very companionable and comfortable. It was a good feeling, this sense of sharing the calm summer night. Stars winked down from incredible heights in a brilliant splatter of light. It was almost like the light from a sparkling dewdrop that caught the morning sun, only concentrated a thousand times. Carrie concluded that the night was more like the winking essence of a jewel, the stars like the clear fire of a diamond.

“What if—” she started suddenly. Gabe’s attention switched from the empty road ahead of him to Carrie’s pensive, upturned face, but she didn’t continue.

“What if…what?” he asked with a smile.

“What if it were possible to take the stars out of the heavens and string them all in a row to make a necklace out of all those winking lights?” Carrie mused, a dreaming look on her face. She laughed. “Stupid, huh?”

“I think it’s a very beautiful thought. Better than a necklace of diamonds, even,” Gabe softly put in. The car had stopped moving, but Carrie hadn’t noticed it yet. Gabe put his head forward and craned his neck to look upward. “But I think I like them better where they are. Up there, the stars look so mysterious and unearthly. Down here, on heavy earth, they wouldn’t look so nice.”

“I think you’re right. Besides, isn’t the whole of heaven one big necklace for earth the planet, with everyone benefiting from its glory?” She smiled at this thought. “And,” she pointed out, “nobody can steal it, either.”

At this he laughed, and Carrie had to join in. She had sounded so ridiculously satisfied when she had said it. She suddenly looked around. “Oh, good lord, I didn’t even know we’d stopped!” she exclaimed. “We’re here—or there—at least, I’m home. That was a quick drive.”

Gabe nodded. “Too quick, at least for me.” He looked deeply into her eyes. “I enjoyed this evening. I’m sorry to see it end so soon.”

She whispered, “I know. Me too.” She searched his face. “Call me?”

A slow smile warmed his face, causing two deep grooves down the sides of his mouth. “Just try and stop me,” he promised swiftly.

He walked her to the front door and waited until she had it unlocked and open. Then, taking her shoulders with both hands, he turned her until she was facing him and staring straight into his eyes. He smiled another slow, heart-stopping smile and kissed her gently on the cheek. It was indescribably beautiful.

Carrie didn’t bother destroying the mood with words. She merely smiled back at him, went into the house and locked the door behind her. After all, there was nothing to say.

Chapter Six

“You know, I really don’t want to go,” Carrie confided to Emma, as she pulled on her shorts over her swimsuit.

Emma, perching on Carrie’s bed, snorted. “Then, don’t go.”

“Oh, I can’t back out now, and you know it. Besides,” Carrie stopped for a moment with her hands on her hips and shook her head exasperatedly, “Steven and Ralf have been trying to get me on a rafting trip for years. They’d be very disappointed in me if I didn’t go.”

“And so would Gabe?” Emma shrewdly guessed the root of Carrie’s thinking, and the younger girl flushed but didn’t prevaricate.