Someone To Watch Over Me (Harlequin Super Romance) (16 page)

Helping her silently into her car, he saw by a clock tower down the street that it was going on seven. “I didn’t eat, and neither did you. I did pick up brochures on living-and dining-room furniture. We made a bargain, remember? I’d arrange for access to the law library, and you’d advise me on furniture. Meet me at my house in half an hour, okay? I’ll pick up a pizza on my way out of town.”

Isabella thought about the lengthy lecture she’d received from Father Espinosa about the dangers of lustful thoughts. She also recalled the twist of joy her stomach had given when Gabe came forward to greet her at the restaurant. Still, she intended to decline his invitation.

“All right. I’ll be there,” she said, shocking herself.

Gabe didn’t rush right over to his own SUV but stood gaping after Isabella’s retreating car. Damn, the woman tied him in knots. Maybe he should forget about raising sheep and furthering a relationship with Isabella Navarro.
Maybe.
But he hadn’t done anything reckless in many long years. It was about time he shook up his life.

W
HEN GABE REACHED
the only pizza parlor in town, he realized he’d forgotten to ask Isabella’s preference in toppings. As he didn’t want to leave her with too much time to change her mind, he ordered medium pizzas in three varieties. Plain cheese, sausage and mushroom, and one all-veggie. So what if he had a ton left over? He’d been known to eat cold pizza for breakfast.

The aroma tantalized him throughout the drive home.

He halfway didn’t expect Isabella to be at his house. His fear seemed warranted when he saw her car—or rather her sister’s car—parked alongside the catering van in the Navarro driveway. Gabe got out of the SUV, feeling downright discouraged.

“Boy, something smells delicious.” Isabella emerged from the shadows that ringed Gabe’s porch.

A stab of pure pleasure made him fumble the boxes. “And I’ve been thinking I’d have to bribe you to eat once I got here.”

“I wasn’t hungry until you opened your car door and the smell of the pizza hit me. By the way, I stopped for soda and beer. I was pretty sure your fridge was still empty. And I brought a spare microwave from my bakery. Use it until you get settled.”

He’d finally managed to collect the stacked pizza
cartons and close the door with his hip—still bruised from where several rams had butted him. “Ow, dang!”

“What’d you do?” She moved into the moonlight. “Gosh, are you planning a party? Tell me you didn’t buy all that for the two of us.”

“I brought several choices because I never thought to ask what toppings you liked. Don’t worry, it’ll keep. Any guy who spent time in the military considers pizza a staple.”

“The military? Oh, now it makes sense why Summer’s husband has such an odd assortment of friends.” Isabella opened the front door and stepped aside to let Gabe pass. In this neck of the woods, people didn’t lock their doors.

Gabe flipped on lights as he walked through the house. “Odd? That’s not very flattering.”

“I didn’t mean funny-odd. Eclectic, maybe. I could see a horse-trainer and a vet being pals. But Trini, Sylvia and I couldn’t figure out Colt’s close association with a lawyer and a car salesman. I mean, you guys seem as close as my brothers are.”

“I’m a CPA with a backup degree in law. Marc? Someone with his gift for blarney could sell anything. So happens he’s had a lifelong love affair with fancy cars. He could probably build one if he set his mind to it. In the beginning, in boot camp, we were four cocky kids who all had a lot of growing up to do. Say, the pizza does need reheating. Pick what you want. I’ll plug in the microwave. And thanks. I’ll return yours after I buy my own. I don’t know how John managed without one.”

“Here, let me do that.” Isabella attempted to relieve him of the plates he’d pulled from the cupboard.

He retained a firm grip. “You’re the one who had the bad day. Sit. Tonight you get to be the guest.”

She blinked at him. “I can’t let you wait on me.”

Gabe laughed. “Why not? There’s no law against it, is there?”

Sitting, she laced her fingers together. “Here in the valley, our families are pretty traditional. Women’s domain is house, food, garden, kids. Men take care of flocks, orchards and income.”

“Which pizza?” Gabe asked again.

Isabella frowned as she selected a narrow slice of cheese and one of the veggie pizza.

Gabe slid her plate into the oven, set out two glasses and asked whether she wanted soda or beer.

“Beer. Save the glass.”

He opened two bottles, adding those plus utensils and napkins to the items already on the table. “You run a business, Isabella. Yet, along with most of the women in your family, you worked night after night saving lambs. Seems to me that was in addition to what you normally do.”

“So, there are a few exceptions,” she said, accepting the plate he set in front of her. “Historically speaking, though, the exchange of tasks doesn’t go both ways. Isn’t that the case with your family, too?”

He removed his piping hot plate and took a seat opposite her. “My family?” He cut off a bite of pizza and chewed as long as he dared. Once he’d swallowed, he dodged her question. “My family was nothing like yours. For one thing, my folks were never home. I guess you could say the Marines ended up being my family.” He could’ve told her the family he’d been born into made dysfunctional appear normal, but something held him back.

During the time it took each of them to finish what was on their plates, Gabe admitted to having had a skewed view of life when he’d landed in the military at eighteen.

“One of the tough guys, huh?”

“I was pretty much a bad-ass kid,” he said, shrugging off the fact that he’d had a choice of three-to-five in prison for getting caught making book on horse races or four years in the service of his country.

“A lot of teen boys are filled with rage. Perhaps rage is what made you a survivor,” she half-mused. “It does keep a person going.”

“No.” Gabe shook his head. “Rage in any form is a mind-numbing emotion, Isabella. That’s not good. It’s debilitating. People have to move beyond rage or hate or whatever you want to call it, or they lose out on the important things in life.”

“You’re wrong. I’ll never stop hating Julian. I’m consumed by rage. It’s what gets me out of bed every morning, Gabe. It’s what keeps my heart from breaking into a million bits. Without anger, I’m afraid I’d feel nothing at all.”

She’d lashed out automatically. And fast. So, what was the best way to respond to the vehemence he felt in her every word? After a moment’s silence, Gabe lazily lifted his beer. “I didn’t say I recovered overnight, Isabella.”

Her eyes never strayed from his throat as he swallowed. The broad hand holding his beer remained rock-steady. Hers jerked spasmodically. The mere mention of her ex-husband made it hurt to breathe. “We’re talking apples and oranges. I’m quite sure any sins you committed as a teen can’t hold a candle to Julian’s.”

Gabe lowered his bottle and rolled it between his
hands. “There’s no crime worse than his. I’m not arguing that point. In fact, I’m not arguing any point.”

“It sounded like you were.”

He reached across the table and captured one of her fluttering hands. “I’m in your corner, Isabella.”

She snatched her hand away and sipped from her beer. Setting her beer down hard, she licked her lower lip. “I want Julian to rot in hell. Furthermore, I intend to see that he does. I’m hoping to learn a lot from the summaries of similar cases.”

“I doubt we’ll find any the prosecutor hasn’t already pulled up for review.”

“I’ll be looking at them from a different perspective. James Hayden is…so dispassionate about everything.”

“In first-year law, they stress objectivity. To reach this stage in his career, Hayden’s probably handled hundreds of cases as bad as yours.” Gabe helped himself to another piece of pizza and slowly ate it cold.

“That’s just it. To Hayden this is simply another case among many he’s prosecuted. Well, to me it’s more. Much, much more.”

Gabe wiped his fingers on his napkin and tossed it aside. “There’s such a thing as getting too close to a case, Isabella. Effective lawyers have learned to separate their feelings toward the person on trial from whatever heinous act he’s committed. Otherwise, they’d go off the deep end themselves. Which brings me to another question. Are you going to hold up okay, poring over abstract after abstract of cases that bear a resemblance to yours?”

“I will.”

She said it with such cold sincerity, Gabe believed her. At least he believed she’d give it her best shot. He sensed that she was hanging on by a worn thread, how
ever. Because of that, because of his sympathy, his compassion, he was moved to touch her face. Just a feather-light skimming of his fingers along her jaw.

Closing her eyes, Isabella savored the human touch, the warmth emanating from his very masculine hand. She leaned into his palm, even as some shadowy fear warned her to pull away.

Drawn by her fragility as well as her unexpected compliance, Gabe was shaken by how badly he longed to kiss her lips. Lips that were full, slightly parted and naked of lipstick.
His naked lips covering hers…

He rose out of his chair and braced his free hand on the table. He didn’t want to frighten Isabella into bolting, so he spoke quietly before she could react. “I’m going to kiss you, Isabella.” Gabe knew her eyes flew wide open. He closed the narrow gap, not giving her time to think or draw back.

He kept it light when he would’ve liked to deepen the kiss. His hand slid from her jaw to the back of her head, and he curled his fingers around her nape. What he
wanted
to do was thrust them under the silky knot of her thick braid.

The connection lasted longer than he’d thought she would allow. But not nearly long enough to put out the fire deep within his belly. Despite his reluctance, Gabe released her the moment he felt the slightest pressure of her head against his hand.

He stared directly into her eyes, trying to gauge her mood as he eased away. She made no move to slap him. That was good. And her breath was unsteady, and that, too, he took as a positive sign.

“It’s been half a lifetime since I’ve shared a kiss as sweet as that,” she whispered in a voice as strained as her breathing.

Sweet?
Gabe sank heavily into the chair, forgetting all about the bruises he’d sustained from herding stubborn sheep. But something loomed larger than his pain—the belief that there wasn’t a man alive who’d want the word
sweet
attached to the first kiss he gave a woman he’d been lusting after in his dreams. Fantastic, maybe. Sexy, definitely. But…
sweet?
Not on your life.

“You groaned. Was I that rusty?”

Gabe, who’d shut his eyes and flopped against the back of his chair, muttered, “I sat down too hard. I forgot my behind’s black and blue thanks to your father’s cantankerous sheep.”

“Did you do something to provoke the rams?”

“They take exception to my cutting out the ewes I’m trying to match with the newborn lambs.”

“Gabe, I think you’re supposed to pen the rams first. A ram’s role is to protect his ewes. Didn’t whoever assigned you the task warn how the rams might act? Surely it wasn’t Papa.”

“No. He and Louis are working one pasture. Joe and Angel are with the dogs in another. Rick!” Gabe shot bolt upright. “Why, that sneaky, low-down, no good bast—” He bit off the expletive the moment Isabella’s eyebrows shot up.

“I swear it’s not my imagination. Rick volunteered. He promised Benito he and Manny would give me a lift to the upper pasture and show me what I needed to know to cut out the proper ewes. Boy, I’ve been had.”

“Papa will skin Rick alive.”

“Don’t tell him. Rick’s waiting for me to bitch. Why else would he leave his orchard and drop by when we broke for lunch? I’ll bet he’s laughing his head off.”

“I don’t understand why he’d pick on you.”

“A guess?” Gabe drawled. “I’d say he sees it as protecting his flock.”

“His flo…? Oh? Me? Or Trini do you think?”

Gabe closed the pizza boxes and got up to store them in the fridge. “I haven’t kissed Trini. Haven’t shown any signs of wanting to, either.” His declaration came out muffled because his head was in the fridge.

“You only kissed me tonight. Rick can’t know that.”

“Right. But it’s been on my mind for a while. Guys sense these things in one another.”

Isabella stood up and put their beer bottles on the counter near the sink. “Rick’s not my keeper.” She stalked toward the back door.

“Wait a minute. It’s pitch dark out. I’ll walk you home.” Gabe grabbed a jacket off a hook nailed inside the laundry room.

“It’s barely a thousand yards. And it was dark when I brought myself over here.”

“Humor me.”

“Gabe,” she said in an unmistakably cautious tone. “I hope I’m not being presumptuous saying this—but don’t waste your time pursuing me. If you are, I mean. If that’s what your invitations and your kiss were all about, you need to give it up.”

“Mind telling me why?” he inquired mildly.

Isabella buried her hands deep in the pockets of the jacket she’d never removed while in Gabe’s house. “I should think that’s evident. I’ve got nothing to offer. Not to friends or family. I’ve got nothing to give to anyone. I’m empty. In here.” She placed a hand over her heart.

“You’re young,” Gabe reminded her. “You have two-thirds of your life ahead of you.” He took her
elbow and steered her around a pothole in the gravel road.

“Listen to me, Gabe. I’m trying to do you a favor. You’re wasting your time on something that can never be. I’m dead inside.”

As she said this, they reached the steps leading to the porch that surrounded the Navarros’ rambling farmhouse. A border collie trotted out to bark but soon returned to the sheep pen.

Gabe wasn’t in the habit of kissing any woman without warning. But he folded his arms around Isabella and leaned against the huge old mountain laurel that shaded the front steps. He felt the crunch of bark between his shoulder blades and noted Isabella’s gasp with satisfaction as her body touched his. While he had her off guard, Gabe kissed her in a way that could by no means be described as
sweet.
He devoured her lips until she grasped his face between her hands and kissed him back with equal passion.

They were both panting when they finally broke apart. In the light from the porch that filtered through the leaves, Gabe could see he’d left her lips rosy and damp. Isabella’s eyes, partially hidden by half-closed lids were less revealing. But he caught enough of a glimpse to know he’d evoked at least a glimmer of desire.

Tracing her bottom lip with the work-roughened pad of his thumb, Gabe waited until Isabella met his eyes. “No. You’re definitely not dead inside.” Dropping his hand, he turned and walked away and was soon swallowed in darkness.

Isabella wavered. She fought against the hunger welling inside her. She shivered from the cold wind,
which had suddenly sprung up, rattling the branches above her head.

Behind her, the door opened. Trini stepped onto the porch. “Bella, so you’re home. Mama thought she heard noises out here. It must’ve been you driving in. If my brakes are squeaking again, I’ll have Joe take a look at them this weekend.”