BULLETPROOF BRIDE (15 page)

He and Peter Richards arrived at the table simultaneously. Clearly nervous, Tessa introduced Gabe to Peter as her cousin Val. She needn't have worried. Peter barely noticed Gabe as they shook hands, unaware that "Cousin Val" and his new employee "Gabe Bond" were one and the same.

Peter released Gabe's hand and smiled at Tessa, but the courtesy looked
forced
. "Tessa, would you care to dance?"

"Yes, thank you." She sighed softly, seemingly resigned to her fiancé's non-reaction to her dancing with another man.

And with good reason. His expression pleasant, Dale sipped his wine. Gabe watched the couple circling in time to the music. Peter's face appeared haggard as he bent stiffly toward Tessa, engaging her in intense conversation.

Gabe waited until the dance was nearly over to approach them. "Mind if I cut in?"

Tessa frowned, but Peter turned her over without a word.

Careful to hold her at a respectable distance, Gabe took her in his arms. A new song
began,
a slow ballad. He tried to ignore the tug in his heart at the scent of her familiar sweet cloud of warm vanilla. "What was that all about?"

"Peter's upset because Neil and Donald got into
an another
argument. Neil can't stand Kiki, and vice versa. He and Donald have been on the outs ever since the marriage."

The crowded dance floor made maneuvering difficult. He drew her close, lying to himself that it was only to avoid a collision. She felt like she belonged in his arms. He squelched his longing. "Did he say what caused the argument?"

She sighed. "They have huge differences about how to run the company. Donald is conservative, while Neil dreams big. Neil's willing to take risks to expand, no matter how costly."

"Sounds promising. I'm going to see what I can find out." Reluctantly, he returned her to Dale. "Stay put," he murmured in her ear. "And don't do anything I wouldn't."

"A short list, Mr. Bond."

Grinning at her retort, he exited the ballroom and sauntered down the plush burgundy carpeted corridor. He arrived in time to see a man he recognized from
intel
photos as Neil slam out of a private room. Neil furiously brushed past Gabe and stalked out the exit. So much for eavesdropping.

Gabe reentered the ballroom. Looking for Tessa, he homed in on their empty table,
then
scanned the couples on the dance floor without success. His jaw clenched on a rush of emotion he refused to acknowledge as anxiety. She was supposed to stay in sight. Finally, he caught a glimpse of her and Dale walking out a pair of double doors, onto the brick terrace.

He discreetly followed. For her own safety, he needed to keep her in sight. Dale wouldn't be able to deal with an aggressive magazine salesman, much less a real threat. To afford them privacy, yet still keep an eye on Tessa, he ducked behind a large potted plant.

The couple strolled to a bench in the corner. They sat facing the fountain in the center of the deserted patio. Tessa scooted closer to Dale and rested her hand on his thigh. "I'm glad no one is out here. We don't get much time alone."

"No, we don't. But after the wedding that will change." Her fiancé picked up her hand and cradled her fingers tenderly in his, but edged his body away slightly.

Gabe drew his brows together. Hmm. Interesting reaction.

Tessa reached up and stroked her fingertips along Dale's wide jaw. Her hand slid behind his neck. Then she urged his head down and kissed him full on the mouth.

Sucker-punched, Gabe's guts cramped. The air slammed out of his lungs, and he squeezed his eyes shut. His fists convulsed around the plant, the rough bark cutting into his palms. He sucked in a painful breath, wrestling with the urge to rush over and yank her out of the other man's arms.

It wasn't his concern.

Not his problem.

None of his business at all.

Then why did it hurt so damn much?

He repeated the mantra ten times before he dared open his eyes.

Dale was kissing her back, but his posture was ramrod-straight. He didn't appear at all comfortable with the intimacy.

Very interesting reaction.

Tessa pulled back and stared up at her fiancé. Even from where he crouched, Gabe could see her pain and confusion. Though he didn't want the other man to desire her, at the same time he wanted to smash Dale's face in for hurting her. Torn by his battling emotions, he gripped the plant harder, struggling to regain his equilibrium.

"Dale, do you," Tessa asked in a shaky voice. "Find me … desirable?"

Gabe held his breath, waiting for the answer.

Dale's Adam's apple jerked convulsively. "Of course I do, but this really isn't a good time or place—"

"It's never the time or place." Tessa jumped up and paced in front of the fountain. "I know I'm not exactly a femme fatale, but you did ask me to be your wife. You must be attracted to me, and yet you've never—we've never—"

Dale stood. Gently, he turned her to face him. "When the time comes, I promise I'll be everything you need in a husband. You'll never want for anything." He enveloped her in a chaste hug. "We should get back inside and join your co-workers."

She huffed out a sigh and nodded. Dale led her back into the ballroom.

So, they weren't lovers. That was the most interesting of all. What was wrong with the
Gomer
? If Tessa were his woman, Gabe would never let her out of his arms.

His heart thundered painfully against his ribs. She wasn't his, and never would be. His temples echoed the pounding of his heart as they throbbed in a clamoring duet. Good thing he'd taken those aspirin. Too bad they didn't do anything to ease the empty, burning ache in his chest.

Tessa rolled over in bed, hugging the pillow. A bleary glance at the clock showed nearly
3:00 a.m.
Her second sleepless night in a row. Both times over men. Last night, she'd worried about her passionate response to Gabe. Now she lay here fretting about Dale's lack of response to her. And hers to him. She'd felt nothing when she'd kissed him. Maybe she was one of those people who didn't feel strong emotions. She never had.

But that wasn't entirely true. Because lately, she'd experienced plenty of incredible feelings.

With Gabe.

Since they'd met, she'd run the gamut from terror to exhilaration. She'd never felt more vital and alive.

She sat up, combing her fingers through her tangled hair. This useless train of thought had to be derailed. Now. Dale was a good man. She cared about him, and he cared about her. They'd be happy together. And she would have the stability she'd always dreamed of. Tessa swallowed, her dry tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. She desperately needed a drink of water.

She belted her sapphire blue robe over her matching silk nightshirt. In the dark, she tiptoed to the bathroom and fumbled for the stack of paper cups beside the sink. The first cool sip slid down her parched throat, bringing instant relief, and she gulped the rest.

A moan caught her attention. She cocked her head, listening in the blackness. Gabe? She sprinted down the hall.

"No!" he cried out.

She swung open the door. Moonlight streamed through a gap in the curtains, illuminating the center of the room, where Gabe thrashed on the bed.

"Please. Please, no," he begged. "Don't."

She hurried to his side, and bent over the writhing man. "Gabe?" Her fingertips touched his warm cheek.

His strong hands grabbed her upper arms. The room spun as she whirled through space. In an instant, she was thrown on her back onto the mattress. His hard weight pressed her body down, held her immobile. His hand clamped over her mouth. His forearm squeezed her throat.

Panic screamed through her. Her vision darkened around the edges as she struggled to breathe. She kicked and squirmed, clawing at the steely arm across her throat, her muffled cries smothered to tiny squeaks.

Suddenly Gabe jerked. His loud gasp echoed in the silent room. "Tessa?" He snatched his hands away. "Oh, God," his sleep-roughened voice rasped into her ear. "Are you all right?"

Trembling all over, she gulped in huge draughts of air.

"Talk to me, honey." His shaking hands cradled her face, soothing, stroking. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

She swallowed. "I'm fine. You were having a nightmare—"

"Yeah." He was shaking so hard the bed vibrated beneath them. "That happens." He buried his face in her neck.

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. "It's all right," she soothed.

Still trembling, he clenched his fists in her hair, clinging to her like a security blanket. "Don't leave me," he whispered brokenly.

Her heart turned over. "I'm here." She rubbed his damp, taut-muscled back. "Who hurt you so badly, Gabe?"

He quivered in her embrace, clearly fighting for control. Finally after what seemed like an eternity, his shaking eased and he lifted his head. The agony in his eyes stabbed into her soul. "I'm—I'm okay."

He closed his eyes for a heartbeat. When his thick lashes floated up again, only a raw shadow of pain remained, the rest shoved back into the secret part of him he hid so well. "I'm sorry. It's survival training. Reflex. Don't ever touch me without waking me first." He choked out a ragged laugh that held more torment than humor. "That's what happens when you sneak in here in the middle of the night. Next time you want into my bed, just ask."

She was in Gabe's bed
. Tessa's hammering pulse kicked up another notch. Her robe had opened in the struggle and her bare legs were intimately entwined with his slightly rough, muscled thighs. His scent bombarded her, warm and fresh and blatantly male. Her stomach clenched. Flames licked through her, burning out of control.

Gabe had sworn he wouldn't kiss her again unless she asked. She stared into his eyes. If she asked now, how would he react? Would he tense, like Dale? Would he laugh?

Or would he cover her mouth with his. Devour her. Slide his lips down her neck, then move lower to quench the fire raging inside her.

As though he read her thoughts, Gabe's pupils dilated. His hungry gaze scorched her face, the feeling as hot and compelling as if his fingertips had stroked her skin. His heart thundered
against her own
. But he didn't move. He waited, exactly as he'd promised, his taut weight immobile on top of her.

All she had to do was ask.

She drew a shuddering breath. "Gabe?"

"Yeah, honey?" His raw, husky growl shivered up her spine.

She gulped. "Do you think you could get off me now?"

He whispered a curse and scrambled off her like she had the plague.

Gathering her robe closed, she fled to her room.

She slammed her bedroom door and fell against the panel, sickened to her soul, her chest hollow and aching. She didn't know if she despised herself more for nearly betraying Dale…

Or because she hadn't had the guts to stay with Gabe.

Chapter 9

«
^
»

T
he dark, rich smell of coffee enticed Tessa awake. The clock on the nightstand read
10:00 a.m.
She hadn't slept this late since her bout with the flu last winter. She combed her fingers through her curls before she shrugged on her robe, belting the sapphire silk tightly on her way to the kitchen.

Dressed in a body-hugging gray T-shirt and faded jeans, Gabe sat at the small dining-room table with the Sunday paper spread in front of him. Faint blue smudges marred the skin beneath his eyes. He took a sip of coffee. "
Mornin
'." He didn't meet her gaze, focusing somewhere near her chin.

"Good morning." She crossed to the coffeemaker and poured a generous helping of the steaming, fragrant brew before taking a chair opposite him. "About last night—"

He stiffened. A muscle twitched in his cheek, his distress radiating across the table. Obviously, he didn't want to talk about his nightmare. This morning, the light that normally shone from him had dimmed, revealing the shadows under the surface. Shadows he tried so hard to hide. She relented. None of her business, anyway. "Never mind. I have a list of errands to complete before the rehearsal this afternoon."

He dropped his head forward and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Okay."

"If you don't want to come with me—"

"No." He straightened. "You're not going alone. I'm ready when you are."

After a quick shower, she clipped back her hair, donned brown tweed slacks and a rust-colored knit twin-set,
then
chose a beige suit and matching pumps to change into at the church.

Wearing a gray wool sport jacket over his T-shirt and jeans, Gabe entered the front door as she stepped into the living room. He still wouldn't meet her gaze. "Car is clean."

A horrible suspicion made her stomach lurch. "You mean—do you suspect a bomb?" she whispered.

"A precaution." He thrust his fingers through his hair, making the short, raven strands stand on end. "Nobody knows our location, but I don't take your safety for granted. I won't let anybody hurt you, so relax." He opened the door. "Let's go. We're driving Miss Tessa in the '
Vette
today."