Under Fire: The Admiral (20 page)

“No. Your personnel info. Ages are
included.”

Ben’s eyes narrowed and his lips pinched into
a thin line considering what she said. “You’ve dated younger men.
Why not me?”

“How do you know I date younger men?”

He shook his head. “You’re a beautiful woman.
Every man we’ve passed, every man in the restaurant has given you a
second look. It’s an easy assumption. Answer my question. Why not
me?”

“You’re right, I am attracted to you. More
than any man I can remember, and I don’t want to be in your way.
I’m not what you need. Allowing this to go any further . . .”
And have you walk away.
She shook her head “I couldn’t . .
.”
I don’t want that kind of hurt
. “Better we acknowledge it
won’t work now. Get over it. Move on.” She was slipping back into
defensive mood.

“Why won’t it work?” he demanded. “I told you
I don’t want kids.”

“I’ve been around. I know what I’m talking
about.
I’ve
seen it happen before.” She glanced over to the
sandbox where several children played. “Men think it will work.
They marry an older woman and after a while decide they do want
children, a son, to pass on their name. To take to ball games,
hunting and fishing. The woman they’re with is too old and they
look around for a younger one to start their family with.” She
paused. “You could change, Ben.”

Ben said nothing. Gemma rose and took in the
peaceful park with its rows of clipped trees. “This was my fault
and I apologize. I should have had the courage to tell you why I
didn’t meet you.” She looked back to him. What had she been
thinking? “I don’t want to mess up your life. Go back to Baltimore,
find a woman who can give you everything you want and deserve.”

Ben glared at her, his jaw tightened. “You
think because you’re older than me you can treat me like a child.
Tell me what I can and can’t have. Make my decisions.

“Think again.

“I make my own decisions. I’m not going
anywhere. I don’t know if I deserve anyone as good as you, but
you
are what I want.” He leaned back on the bench, crossed
an ankle to the opposite knee and spread his arms across the back.
“Sit down, Gemma.”

She bristled at being given an order and he
read her expression.

“I know the admiral isn’t used to
taking
orders, but this once, suck it up.”

She said nothing.

“You are a powerful, brilliant, beautiful
woman that I’m pretty damn sure I’ve fallen in love with. If you
think for a minute I’m going to let you walk away from me without a
fight, think again. I repeat, I don’t want kids and age means
nothing to me.”

Gemma sat.

“But in ten years.”

“Don’t.” He shook his head. “We have no
guarantee we’ll see ten seconds from now. Don’t worry about ten
years from now.”

“But children, how can you be sure?”

“You said it. The kids I work with
are my
kids
. Seeing a kid that two months before had a scarf tied
around his face to hide a deformity gives me a smile. It’s all I
need. I understand your hesitation. For today, can we put that on
the back burner and enjoy each other? See some of Paris? I promise
I won’t pressure you into anything. We’ll take this slow. Get to
know each other outside the mayhem and adrenaline highs.”

She could tell him no, get up, leave and
without a doubt be miserable. Or she could take a chance and tell
him yes. Past experience said get up and run like hell. Instinct
said Ben was different. Her common sense said it was time to end
this shitty back-and-forth game she’d been playing. She swallowed
hard and nodded like a bobble head. “Okay. Slow.” Trouble was she
didn’t know if she could do slow. With her out-of-control emotions
all he had to do was kiss her, or hold her, and she’d drag him back
to her apartment and get naked.

“Today we see some sights. That’s all.”

“I can do slow,” she said, more to reassure
herself than to agree.

Ben’s body language completely changed. She
couldn’t take her eyes off his mouth. For a moment she thought he
was going to kiss her. What did she expect? Wasn’t staring at his
mouth an invitation to do just that? Instead he stood and offered a
hand.

“There’s a condition,” he said, gripping her
hand tightly. “No more talk about the age difference. Agreed?”

She nodded and stood. “Agreed.”

“Where do you want to start?”

They were so close all she had to do was lean
a little and she’d be up against him, feel his hard body against
hers.
Slow
was definitely going to be difficult. “We can
catch the Metro at the St. Paul stop. It’s not very far. We’ll go
right past your hotel.”

Slow.
Ben didn’t know if he could do
slow. When she put her hand in his it was all he could do to keep
from pulling her against him, kissing her until they both couldn’t
breathe. Then hauling her to his bare-bones hotel room. Lying on
top of her in that tiny bed and making love to her for days. Going
right past the damn place would be more than he could take.
“Already seen what’s on that street, can we take another
route?”

She pulled back and gave him a questioning
look. “Sure. We can go this way.” She gestured to the opposite side
of the park. “To another stop. The Bastille monument.”

“Sounds good to me.” He tipped her head in
the direction she gestured. “Lead the way.”

On the way they passed several ethnic
restaurants, salivated outside the window of a chocolate shop,
window-shopped storefront boutiques and a jewelry store whose
designs only included rubies and diamonds. The Bastille was a
surprise. There was only a monument-type thing marking the spot
where the long-destroyed Bastille had stood.

They exited the Metro at the stop before the
Louvre because Gemma thought it was more dramatic to enter the
famed museum from above rather than through the underground stop.
He was glad she’d insisted. The building was much bigger and
grander than pictures he’d seen. Gemma guided him to the oddly
out-of-place glass pyramid entrance. They took the escalator down
to the lobby, where hundreds if not thousands of squealing, excited
schoolkids speaking at least three different languages bounced
around. They’d stumbled into some kind of special school event. In
silent agreement they bolted for the exit. The Louvre would have to
wait another day. Outside Gemma gave him a brilliant smile that
made it even more difficult to keep his hands off her.

“Sorry about that,” she said as he
disappeared his hands into his pockets.

“We can walk to the Orsay from here. It’s
just across the Seine.”

“Great, as long as there’s not ten thousand
schoolkids there.”

“Come on.” She looped her arm through his and
guided him toward the crosswalk. “Won’t know till we get there.”
Her voice was light, happy, and as she pulled him along he could
see and feel she’d relaxed.
Fuck it!
He took his hands out
of his pockets and slipped an arm around her. “What’s in the
Orsay?” he said, rushing her across the street as the light
changed.

She slipped her arm around his waist. “Oh,
not much, just Manet, Monet, Renoir, van Gogh.” She pronounced
Gogh
properly, sounding like she was trying to get rid of a
hairball. “Toulouse-Lautrec and Gauguin, my absolute
favorites.”

Yeaph, she was definitely relaxing and he was
definitely in love. As they walked across the bridge over the Seine
he kept asking questions about art, encouraging her to talk. Loving
her enthusiasm, how she smiled and how it made him feel.

Ben looked up as they walked the sidewalk
beside the Musée d’Orsay. “What was this building before? It
doesn’t look like it was built as an art museum.”

“Train station. The glass roof gives an
amazing light to the art.” She stopped and looked around at the
street parking. “Oh, no.” She rushed ahead to the corner of the
building, where signs pointed to the entrance. She stopped dead,
turned, and spread her hands into a what-next gesture.

“What?” he said, catching up.

“They’re closed. That amazing glass roof I
was telling you about also leaks. When the city has heavy rain the
museum can be closed for a day or two after.”

“Shall we try for the Eiffel Tower or do you
think it will have collapsed by the time we get there?”

“I think it’s safe from us. It’s over there.
See?” He followed the direction she was pointing and sure enough he
could see the top. He turned back out to the street. “But I’m
getting us a cab. That looks way too far to walk.”

An hour later they were at the top of the
hundred-foot exclamation point taking in the magnificent view and
totally under the spell of Paris. Gemma pointed out the Arc de
Triomphe, the spirals of Notre Dame and Ste. Chapelle, the Sacré
Coeur church high on a hill in Montmartre. He pointed to a
butt-ugly square building not far from the tower. “What’s
that?”

Gemma laughed. “It’s an office building, but
the Parisians like to say it’s the box the Eiffel Tower came
in.”

Seeing her like this made his heart sing.
He’d barely looked at the sites she’d pointed out. He couldn’t tear
his gaze from her face, smiling so much his face hurt. “I’m ready
for a drink or cup of coffee, what about the restaurant here in the
tower?”

Gemma scrunched her face. “Not here, too
touristy. There are plenty of places close.”

“You’re the tour guide, Madame. Lead the
way.”

Chapter 16

They were in a café in the Rue Cler not far
from the Eiffel Tower and halfway through a bottle of wine and
platter of assorted cheeses and pâté when Gemma broke the
spell.

“What did Sammy tell you about me? About my
childhood?”

He freshened her glass while he considered
how much he should tell her and why she was asking him that now. If
he didn’t answer it would eat at her. Sour the rest of the
afternoon and evening. He poured the last of the wine into his own
glass and took a drink before answering. “First I want you to know
I coerced him into telling me where to find you and giving me an
idea what I’d done to make you blow me off, not return my
calls.”

Gemma narrowed her eyes and gave him a
what the-fuck are you talking about
look. Christ, she was
good at these withering looks. He could only imagine what it would
be like to have her really pissed with you.

“I told him I’d sue Guardian Air over the
accident.”

Gemma said nothing.

“He agreed to answer questions he could with
basics, no details. Any more would have to come from you. He wasn’t
sure you’d come here. Only a few people would know for sure where
you were, like your commanding officers and assistant.” He wondered
who an admiral’s commanding officer would be.

“You came to Paris not knowing if I was
here?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes. I came
here and had been standing across from your building for hours
before you came out.”

Her expression softened. “What is the reason
my son gave for my coming here?”

This is where it was going to get sticky. Sam
said she was an uncommonly brave woman who would stand and fight to
the death and he’d certainly seen that side of her. But when it
came to personal issues, she’d close herself off to love on any
level for fear of being hurt. As a child, parental love was
nonexistent. Three years after she married, her husband was killed.
She’d done the best she could for her family. She’d been
shortchanged in the love department so many times she walked around
with a half-dead heart. “Sam said his mother had experienced more
hurt in her life than any ten people.”

“He knows this how?” The hard look
returned.

“Your brother. Apparently your kids felt you
abandoned them.” Gemma stiffened and blinked. “Your brother thought
it was time to end that misconception. He told Sam and Danny what
you went through as kids. What the death of their father did to
you.”

“What”—she looked away for a moment then
back—“did he . . . tell them?”

“He said you were dirt poor and your parents
were drunks.” There was no reaction. She sat there as calm as if
he’d asked if she wanted more wine. “To protect you from your
parents when things got bad he hid you. In the house when you were
little. When you got older, he got you out of the house. Even in
the winter and at night.” Ben was no head doc but he knew enough to
know talking would help. She took a drink of wine and nodded. And
shit
, she said nothing. “Your brother said one time you went
missing. He found you in a cave.” She shifted uncomfortably in her
chair and looked out the window to the tower ironwork.

“That was the cave you told me about?”

Her breath hitched. “Yes.”

She had to have one of the crappiest starts
in life of any person he’d ever heard of, yet she’d gone on to make
something of herself and do for her children. Never asking anything
in return.

“Your brother told Sam about their father’s
death, how hard you took it. Married barely three years with three
small children, you opted to stay in the Coast Guard. You didn’t
want your children growing up dirt poor like you had.” He waited
until she returned her gaze to him.

“To help out, your brother and his wife took
the kids in. Your visits became more and more difficult. To reduce
the hurt on the children you opted to come less frequently.”

“What did Sammy say about all that?”

“He said he wished he’d known all along.”

She rested her fingers on the base of the
wineglass, moving it in circles on the marble tabletop, looking
intently at the ruby contents of the glass as if it were about to
give up the secrets of life.
Come on, Gemma, open up.
Talk
.

“He also said if I hurt you he would send his
sister to take me out.” Her head snapped up. “From what I’ve heard
about Olivia, she can and would do it.”