Fire Brand (29 page)

“Take a long time,” she whispered huskily. Her hands touched his hard face, tracing his eyebrows, his cheekbones, his mouth and nose, as he moved with exquisite slowness. “Take a long, long time.” She gasped, and his mouth touched hers with easy affection.

“Marriage gets better every day,” he breathed. He looked down and so did she, catching her breath at the contrast between his dark, hair-roughened body and her soft, pink one, at the intimacy of seeing where they touched, how they touched.

Her face turned red as he looked up. “Yes, it awes me, too,” he whispered huskily. “And I've seen it before. But with you, it's a miracle of togetherness, a sharing of all we are. I love you very much, Mrs. McCayde.”

“Oh, Bowie... I love you,” she moaned. Tears filled her eyes, but she kissed him so that he wouldn't see them. Her arms lifted around him and she moved sensuously against him, which made him even hungrier, incited him to urgency.

“Don't let me hurt you,” he breathed roughly.

“You couldn't,” she whimpered. Her eyes closed. Her teeth ground together. “You couldn't, not...ever!”

The side of the pool was hard at her back, but his hands slid there, protecting her from the abrasion. He groaned into her open mouth as his hips began to echo the feverish urgency of his tongue penetrating her lips, probing the soft sweet darkness of her mouth, finding the emptiness there and making it throb with the need to be filled.

She felt her legs twining around his, holding him, as the rhythm grew shuddery and strong. She whispered something, and cried out. The heat was there again, like a brand, burning her, filling her with molten flame. She bit into his shoulder helplessly as the waves washed over her and lifted her, convulsively, into heaven.

She opened her eyes at that moment and saw his face—saw it corded and contorted with the anguish of fulfillment, even as the sound broke from his tight lips and his body arched into hers with the savage throb of ecstasy in his voice.

His eyes opened as his coiled muscles relaxed. He looked directly into Gaby's eyes. Incredibly, the sight of her watching him made his body begin to shudder all over again. He caught her hair and held her face while his mouth burned down into hers, and he waded into the shallows, with her body still part of his.

He lifted his head when they were knee-deep and his eyes were black as night. “Again,” he breathed roughly. “I have to have it again.”

She smiled faintly as she met his lips. He put her down to get out of the pool, a tremor in his arms as he helped her out and lifted her onto one of the loungers under the sun roof.

“Will it hold us?” she whispered as he came down over her.

“Who the hell cares,” he ground out. “Gaby!”

His stamina overwhelmed her. He kissed her until she was dizzy, touched her in ways he never had, took her to the brink and pulled her back, over and over again, until she sobbed.

“I can't stand it!” she wailed.

“Yes, you can,” he bit off against her mouth. His hands contracted hungrily on her hips. “Lift up. Hard. Hard!”

He controlled her movements, her mind, her heart. He rolled over and lifted her onto him and held her while she learned the rhythm and let him guide her. It was incredible the second time. She almost fell in her anguished release, his hands holding her thighs to keep her upright, his voice breaking with the sweet pain of fulfillment.

He pulled her down at last and his big hands soothed her while they both strained to breathe, their heartbeats shaking each other.

“I've never done it like that,” he whispered finally, when she was still and faintly trembling against his broad, damp chest.

“Before,” she whispered, smiling as she lifted up to put her mouth gently over his.

“Before,” he agreed. His soft eyes searched hers. “I couldn't love you more if I worked at it all my life,” he whispered. “You're my world, Gaby.” His eyes darkened. “You're my very life. Now I know how Ted felt when his wife died and he ran the truck into the river. I'd just as soon be dead if I had to face a future without you in it.”

“No,” she whispered, her eyes tearing up again as she put her fingers to his hard mouth. “No, you're strong. You'd go on...”

“No, I damned well wouldn't,” he said curtly, moving her hand to his chest. “I've never loved anyone before. I never could again—not like this.”

Terror shot through her. She bit her lower lip and tried to find the right words. How could she tell him that she was leaving him? How could she admit that she was going away?

“Stop looking so terrified,” he murmured as he brought her back down against him and sighed. “You're not going anywhere, and neither am I—except to bed,” he mused, chuckling, “before Montoya and Tía Elena get the shock of their married lives.”

“They won't be back until ten,” she murmured lazily.

“It's five after ten,” he whispered.

She shot up, her wide eyes stunned. He lifted his waterproof watch and showed her the dial.

“Doesn't time fly when you're having fun?” he mused, his black eyes twinkling.

“They might come in here!”

“Yes, they might.”

She jumped up, grabbing at her robe. She shouldered into it, still damp, and threw Bowie's towel to him. “Get up, do,” she coaxed. “What will they think if they see us?!”

He chuckled as he got up, lazily, and wrapped the towel around his hips. “They'll think we've been swimming,” he murmured, tongue in cheek. “Unless you blush like that in front of them.”

“I can't help it,” she said shyly.

“Amazing,” he sighed. “Especially in view of the fact that you seduced me,” he added wickedly. “I've never enjoyed anything as much in my whole life. You might keep that in mind.”

“Oh, I will,” she assured him.
I'll live on it all my life,
she added silently.

They came out of the pool area together just as Tía Elena and Montoya came in the door. Gaby greeted them, mumbled something about changing out of her wet bathing suit, smiled sheepishly, and shot up the staircase like a bullet.

Bowie was still laughing about it when he came to bed minutes later.

She got up before dawn, careful not to rouse Bowie, and dressed in a suit and high heels, barely pausing to put on makeup and brush her hair. Then she stood beside the bed and looked down at him, tears misting her vision as she let her eyes adore him one last time. It was for his own good. She had to remember that, and not weaken. If she stayed, she put him at risk—him, Aggie, Casa Río, and everything he held dear. She didn't dare think about what he'd said—about what he'd do if he lost her. She had to believe that he'd go on, because he was strong. He was very strong. He'd make it.

She wanted to kiss him, just once more, but she was afraid she might wake him. He was a light sleeper at best, despite the way she'd tired him out the night before. She still blushed, remembering how sweet it had been to make love with him. Amazing, she thought, that just when her old nightmares and fears were put to rest, the past should come back to threaten her again.

With a weary sigh, she forced her eyes away from him and turned. She opened the door silently and closed it. Then, with tears hot in her eyes, she crept down the staircase.

Montoya and Tía Elena would still be asleep. They arose just past dawn. She had less than ten minutes to get her suitcase and get out of the house before she was discovered. She didn't dare let anyone see her with her things in a bag, leaving Casa Río. She had to just disappear.

She reached into the hall closet where she'd hidden the suitcase, past the sports equipment, and gently pulled it out. She'd taken only what she had to have. She had her savings passbook in her purse, with enough money in her account to tide her over until she could get another job.

With a heart like lead in her chest, she gently closed the closet door and picked up the bag.

She turned to leave, and ran straight into Bowie, who'd been standing at the foot of the staircase, watching her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

G
ABY
COULDN
'
T
EVEN
SPEAK
.
She tried to get words out, but they wouldn't come. Bowie looked down at her without any particular surprise on his lean face. He was wearing jeans and nothing else, so obviously he'd dressed in a hurry. And he was smiling, tenderly, as his black eyes held hers.

“I can explain,” she began finally, knowing she couldn't.

“I already know,” he replied. “Everything.”

“But you couldn't!” she burst out. “You said you'd tried already...!”

He took the bag from her and put it down. Then he picked her up gently and carried her into his study, kicking the door shut. “I did try, years ago,” he agreed. He sat down in his big armchair with Gaby in his lap. “Mrs. Bartholomew isn't the kind of woman who gives up. She called me yesterday at my office.”

Gaby burst into tears. She put her face in her hands and cried until her throat hurt.

Bowie held her close, rocking her. “Shhh,” he whispered softly. “It's all right, baby. There's nothing in the world to be afraid of. It's all over. You're safe. You're with me, and you're safe.”

“They'll hurt you.” Her voice broke. She lifted eyes dark with terror. “My father killed Mrs. Bartholomew's son when he attacked me! We ran, oh, God, we ran, and I hoped... But she found me...and now she'll put it in all the papers. I can run away!” she whispered feverishly. “If they can't find me, they'll leave you alone!”

“Gaby.” He put his fingers gently across her wild mouth. “Hush. I said it's all right. Mrs. Bartholomew doesn't want to hurt you, or me, or any of us.”

She shuddered a little with reaction. “What?”

“It's a long story, but I can abbreviate it,” he replied quietly. “Your father didn't kill her son.”

“But he did, I saw...!”

“Your father hit him, and there was a lot of blood,” he whispered. “There was even a preliminary and very premature story in one of the local papers to the effect that he had been murdered. But he didn't die that night, Gaby. He died in the hospital, two days later, of a heart attack. An autopsy was performed, at the request of the family. He died of valve disease—calcification of the heart valves. He must have known he had a heart problem for a long time, because the symptoms would have been obvious. But he drank heavily, and he wouldn't see a doctor. The blow concussed him. It didn't kill him.”

Gaby buried her face in his chest and wept. She wept for her father, who'd died in a mental institution, overcome by the thought that he'd murdered another human being. She wept for herself, for all the long years that she'd been haunted by what had happened that night. She wept for the Bartholomews, who'd suffered so much because of their son.

Bowie smoothed her long hair. “Mrs. Bartholomew said they'd looked for you and your father for years. They finally traced him to the place he'd died. He was a minister at one time, wasn't he, Gaby, and that was why what happened was so horrible for him. Taking life was against everything he believed in.”

“Yes,” she whispered, wiping away the tears. “We were poor, but he was a good man, Bowie. He was never affectionate, but he was good to me, and he took care of me the best way he knew.” She sniffed. “I've lived with it for so long,” she whispered, shaking. “I've been so afraid that they'd find me one day.”

“They did, from the wire service photo of our wedding,” he continued. “They wanted you to know the truth. It was important to Mrs. Bartholomew that you weren't hiding or afraid that you might be prosecuted even today. There was no crime. There was no guilt—only theirs, that they hadn't known he was harassing you. She is delighted to know that you're married to a moderately successful man, and that you're happy. And you are, aren't you, honey?” he asked tenderly.

She clung to him hungrily and kissed him—tender little kisses, all over his face. “Oh, I'm happy,” she whispered brokenly. “So happy! Bowie, I was going away...”

“Yes, I know.” He kissed her back. “I wanted you to tell me. I was hoping, up until the last minute, that you'd trust me enough—especially after what happened in the pool last night. That was goodbye, wasn't it?” he asked gently.

She nodded, wiping away the tears. “I wanted to leave you a good memory.”

“It was that. But losing you would have killed me.” He searched her eyes, and he wasn't smiling. “I wasn't kidding. I meant every last word I said to you. You're my world—all of it.”

The tears came back. She kissed him with her whole heart. “I couldn't bear to see you hurt because of me,” she whispered. “It killed me to leave, but they could have ruined you.”

He shrugged. “So I'd have gone back to construction work. But I'd much rather lose the business, and Casa Río, than lose you,” he said simply. “A man can't live without his heart, little one.”

She leaned her forehead against his with a soft sigh. “That's how I felt, because you're my heart, too.” She closed her eyes. “I don't have to go? I can live with you forever?” she asked in a small, awed voice.

His big arms pulled her to him. “All my life, and all yours.” His eyes closed on a hard sigh. “I hope I can live up to you,” he added quietly. “You can't know how it touches me, that you'd have sacrificed your happiness for me.”

She pulled back and looked into his haunted eyes. “Bowie...wouldn't you have done exactly the same thing for me?” she asked gently, smiling at him.

He took a slow breath and smiled back. “Yes.”

“Now who's going to have to live up to whom?” she teased, and smiled against his warm, hard mouth.

“Just what is your real name?” he asked several heated minutes later.

“Gabrielle Cane,” she replied.

He frowned. “But you said that was an assumed name.”

She grinned. “Yes, I did. To throw you off the track, so you wouldn't try to find out anything.”

“For God's sake,” he said.

“Didn't it ever occur to you that I'd have had to falsify all my records—Social Security, learner's license, and so forth?” She gave him a demure glance through her lashes. “The authorities have unpleasant ways of dealing with people who do that sort of thing.”

“No, it never occurred to me.” He chuckled. He pulled her down again and wrapped her up with a heartfelt sigh. “It doesn't matter in the least, now. You're Mrs. McCayde—all mine.”

“That works both ways. I never dreamed I'd be free of the past one day,” she said, still stunned by the suddenness of it all. She stared across his bare chest to the window. “I've been haunted for so long, Bowie. I can't believe I'm actually free.”

“Yes, you can. I'll make you believe it.” He kissed her forehead with breathless gentleness. “We start here, Gaby. Together.”

She smiled and looked up at him with her heart in her eyes. “Yes. No more nightmares. No more lies. No more secrets. And I guess that means I can unpack, doesn't it?”

“Later,” he said when she tried to get up. His mouth found hers, and she melted into him, wrapped up like his greatest treasure in his big, loving arms.

* * *

O
NCE
THE
PAST
was put into proper perspective—it took a few days for Gaby to resolve it all—life seemed to move at a slower, less taxing pace. Work went on as usual, and there were no lawsuits.

The one sour note in her life was that she wasn't pregnant. She hadn't told Bowie what she suspected until she'd gone to the doctor, but what she thought was pregnancy was only a missed period. There was still hope, of course, and Bowie's ardor didn't cool a bit as time went by. She knew that one day her fondest hope would be realized, so she was content to take it one day, one lovely day, at a time.

Gaby had found the prospect of a double wedding with Aggie and Mr. Kingman delightful, and it was. She and Aggie chose matching street-length dresses in an antique white color, styled like wispy feminine dresses from the 1920s, with matching veils. Aggie blushed like a girl as she spoke her vows. Bowie and Gaby took their own vows a second time, and with even more reverence, because the love they shared was deeper now, and stronger than ever.

It seemed as if half of Arizona came to Casa Río for the reception. Gaby's friends from the Phoenix and Lassiter newspapers were in attendance, along with Bowie's construction gang chiefs and board of directors. Mr. Kingman had plenty of family attending besides his two sisters, and with them came his foreman, and a number of familiar faces from the rodeo circuit.

Gaby was staring adoringly at her husband when Harvey paused beside her with a second glass of champagne, which he put into her empty hand.

“Congratulations, again,” he said.

She grinned at him. “I think we both deserve some. We're the toast of two newspapers, lest you forget, and if we threatened to resign, I really think Bob might offer us a partnership.”

He laughed himself. “Imagine, and we didn't even get sued.”

She shrugged. “Mr. Samuels is apparently used to being sued. He does make money, and I can understand that some communities would be desperate enough to let him in.” She glanced at Harvey somberly. “The worst of it was that I felt like I was coming out against agriculture, and that isn't so. Nobody is more on the side of farmers and ranchers than I am.”

“This was a different situation,” he reminded her. “We did what we had to, to protect the ecology. We can't resent that.”

“I suppose not. But it worries me that we've cost Lassiter a lot of jobs.”

“We'll find a way to get more—without having to sacrifice the quality of life for it.”

“Will we?” She smiled sadly. “I hope so.”

“Stop glowering.” Bowie grinned as he joined them. “We're supposed to be celebrating.”

“We already are,” Harvey assured him. He lifted his glass. “Congratulations.”

“On my wife or my stepfather?” Bowie asked with a wry glance at a beaming Mr. Kingman. “I'm quite happy with both, thanks.”

“It shows,” Gaby told him, leaning against his side with a warm, happy sigh. “I'm pretty happy myself.”

“That shows, too,” Harvey said, smiling. “I'd better go and rescue Bob from the competition. See you.”

Gaby nodded, watching him go. “He's not a bad man at all, you know,” she mused. “He's a good reporter, too.”

“I know another good one.” His arm brought her close. “Have I ever told you how proud I am of you?” he asked sincerely. “You did a hell of a job on that story.”

“I did my best,” she corrected. “I hope it was good enough. But I still worry about having done what was best for the community,” she confessed. “Bowie, all those jobs...”

He bent and kissed her gently. “Don't carry the weight of the world on your shoulders—especially not today. Come on. I want you to meet my new in-laws.”

She was delighted with Mr. Kingman's sisters and family, and so was Aggie. As the reception wound down, she wondered at the ease with which the two families seemed to fit together. Staring up at her handsome husband, she sighed with pure pleasure at the way things had happened in her life—at the random factors that had led her to Arizona, and to Bowie. It was enough to convince her that there was no such thing as coincidence. She slid her arm around his hard waist and smiled up at him, her eyes soft with love. It couldn't get better than this, she thought. Nothing could be as wonderful as standing in the arms of the man she loved, with a whole lifetime ahead of them to discover everything there was to know about each other.

But, Bowie was still keeping one secret from Gaby. For the next few weeks he worked unusually long hours and attended meetings with city council members that he kept from her newsy nose. Until one Monday afternoon, when he put her in the ranch pickup and drove her out to the site where he'd made love to her for the first time. There he showed her the blueprints and pending council approval for his development project.

She sat down heavily on the running board of the truck with the plans in her hands.

“Bowie, this is incredibly big,” she burst out. “What is it?”

“A retirement complex,” he said. “It will cater to elderly people—an age group that can't do much damage to the surroundings. There'll be a shopping mall, complete with grocery store and pharmacy, and a resident doctor and clinic—even a vet.” He grinned. “And over here,” he pointed to another square on the blueprint, “is a small museum and library which will house all the artifacts and history of this area. The entire complex won't use a fraction of the water an agricultural outfit would, and we've designed it with water conservation in mind, right down to the plant material in the landscaping. The whole thing will cost $3.5 million. We can get some federal funding, and the city council is kicking in a bit. There are grants we can apply for from private industry, and I'm furnishing the construction labor. You wanted jobs for Lassiter, honey. Here they are.”

She couldn't even think. She jumped up and threw her arms around him, laughing as she hugged him. “I think you're terrific,” she murmured happily.

“I'm glad you appreciate me,” he returned, grinning. “It's nice to know that I have my uses.”

She grinned back. “I can think of a couple...”

“Can you?” He bent and kissed her lazily. “The first time was here,” he said, the smile fading. “I hurt you.”

She put her hand over his mouth. “I loved you,” she replied. “And I left the past behind here. There aren't any scars on me from what happened—not even one.”

He let out a heavy breath. “Thank God for that. It haunted me for a long time.”