BULLETPROOF BRIDE (9 page)

"The music store owner's cats." She grinned. "When she leaves, they climb the fire escape and beg for snacks."

"Cats." Gabe breathed out a sigh. His body relaxed.

Intimately joined from shoulder to hip, Tessa stared up at him. The golden afternoon light gilded the planes of his face, emphasizing the cleft in his chin. Her gaze roamed over his sculpted mouth. Remembering his brief, exciting kiss, she licked her suddenly dry lips.

He groaned. She jerked her gaze up and saw his smoky green stare fastened on her mouth.

"Relax, sweetheart," he urged, his voice a hot, husky whisper as he touched his lips to hers. His fingers lightly traced her cheekbones, caressed the curves of her ears. No one had ever touched her with such gentleness, such aching tenderness. Her body melted like warm honey.

His moist breath feathered over her temples, and her lashes floated down in languid surrender. She was rewarded by a soft kiss on each eyelid. His lips journeyed along her jawline, nibbled behind her ears and down her neck, heating her body, heating her blood. She basked in the delicious sensation. Her mouth parted in a sigh.

Gabe teased her lower lip with his velvet tongue. He bit gently,
then
suckled the sensitized flesh, wringing a moan from her. His mouth tempted, enticed, seduced—and she wanted more. She opened to him and his tongue glided inside, stroking slow and gentle against hers, inviting her response. Her stomach fluttered at the minty taste of him, cool, and yet at the same time, unbearably hot. Fire scorched her nerve endings, every inch of her alive and quivering. More alive than she'd ever been.

Tentatively, she returned his kiss, her tongue meeting his in a seductive duet. His breathing
quickened,
and he explored her mouth with a sensual, thorough expertise that shattered her control.

She wanted, needed, like she'd never needed before. She couldn't get enough. Her arms slid around his neck, urging him closer. She moaned into his mouth, and his low answering murmur vibrated through her.

Reality slammed into her with a jarring crash. Her heart stopped,
then
kicked into painful, irregular thrusts. She was kissing a man she barely knew—while engaged to another! She tore her mouth from his and shoved at his chest. "Get off me!"

He frowned in confusion. "Tessie? What's wrong?"

Dazed, and livid with herself, she lashed out with the only weapon she had. "Maybe everyone was right to question me about you after all."

He froze, his eyes darkening. "I didn't force you. You wanted that as much as I did."

"I most certainly did not," she lied. If she admitted it, that would make her like Vivienne, and she would not go there.

He was trembling. Had she done that to him? "Baby, your brain might be clinging to denial, but your body sure as hell knows what it wants." He jumped up and stalked to the other side of the room. "Get packed."

She clambered to her feet. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

He prowled toward her, all lean muscles and dangerous grace. "This is not an optional exercise.
Pack,
or I'm hauling you out right now without whatever you need."

"I won't—" she started,
then
thought better of pushing him. He looked furious enough to follow through, and she had no doubt who would win. Provoking a confrontation was foolish. Pivoting, she marched to the closet and grabbed a new suitcase, purchased for her honeymoon. She threw it on the bed, and began flinging in clothing at random.

An echoing note from her baby grand piano made her jerk her head up. He was seated at the oak bench. "What do you play?"

"Music," she snapped.

"Don't be mad." Looking as lost and bewildered as she felt, he gave her a shaky smile. "I couldn't have stopped myself from kissing you right then if my life had depended on it." He cleared his throat and his gaze slid away. "I was out of line. I apologize."

Confusion swirled through her, her muddled feelings tangled in a knot. She shoved a taupe sweater on top of the growing pile. "I'm promised to another man. A good man. You can't just kiss me whenever you get the urge. I need to be able to trust you."

"You can trust me, Tessa." He returned her gaze, his jade eyes dark with suppressed emotion. He held up a two-fingered salute. "I won't kiss you again. Scout's honor."

"You were a Boy Scout?"

His gaze sidled away again. "Not exactly."

He looked so much like a little boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar, she couldn't help herself. She chuckled. "You are something else, Bond, Gabe Bond."

"I believe you used the word nice?" He wiggled his brows at her.

"I said oversexed gorilla." Shoving aside the sickness in her soul at the mess the criminals had made of her apartment, and the urgent desire to stay and set things right, she strode to the bathroom to pack her cosmetics. Her safety was more important.

"So, what do you play?" he called, plinking on the keys.

"Classical, mostly." She dropped makeup into a zippered bag. "Dale and I do violin and piano duets in performances Mother Winters organizes. Lucille has a wide circle of wealthy acquaintances and we raise money for children's charities."

"You like stuffy classical junk?"

"I don't dislike it, and classical is what that crowd wants to hear." She returned to the main room.

"What sends you soaring? What do you play when you can let go and pound out what you want?" He hit a discordant chord, making her wince. "You ever cut loose, Tessie? Go wild?"

She avoided the uncomfortable question. Tessa Beaumont didn't do wild. "I need to water my plants before we leave."

As Gabe rose from the piano bench, the phone rang. His eyes sparked a warning. "Let the machine pick up."

She huffed out a sigh, but obeyed.

"My dear, are you there?" Lucille's refined voice, tight with panic, broke into the room. "It's another disaster—"

She snatched up the receiver. "Mother Winters, what's wrong? Has something happened to Dale?"

"You are home, thank goodness! It's
Frederick
. He absconded with the money from his business and fled the country. The deposits were paid, but the balances are gone. We'll never book another wedding coordinator at this date!" Lucille's voice rose. "What are we going to do? The wedding is ruined!"

Oh, no, another glitch. A big one. Maybe Mel was right and fate had again intervened to stop her. Tessa banished the horrifying thought and hurried to soothe her future mother-in-law. "We'll confirm the details and repay the balances in person. Let's get together with Mel. Between us, we can fix it."

"Excellent idea." Lucille calmed. "We can meet at the club, at six."

Ignoring Gabe's frown, Tessa glanced at her watch. "Six?"

Gabe shook his head in an adamant no.

"Fine, I'll see you then." After a quick goodbye, Tessa hung up.

He stalked over to her. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Our wedding coordinator flew the coop. It's an emergency."

"Great. Just what I need." His forehead creased in a pained expression. "You mentioned watering your plants." He waved a hand. "I've been in jungles with less foliage. I'll help, or this could take all day."

Thank heavens whoever had searched her apartment hadn't touched her precious plants. "I love plants. I like nurturing them, watching them thrive under my care." Her cheeks heated. "Probably more than you wanted to know." She gave him instructions on watering the kitchen plants and hustled to the bathroom to tend her ferns.

"Uh-oh," he called.

"What now?" She rushed to the kitchen.

He leaned over the counter, peering into a brass pot. Wearing a puzzled frown, he pointed to a shriveled pile of leaves. "I touched it, and the thing croaked."

Tessa chuckled. "That's a Sensitivity Plant, genus
Mimosa
pudica
. When touched, the plant wilts. In about thirty minutes, it will look good as new."

"If you say so." He shook his head. "Time to go."

Downstairs, Gabe stowed her bags in the back while she climbed into the front. He settled into the driver's seat. "Want to listen to a CD?"

"Sure." The car roared away from the curb. She sifted through his collection of classic rock and Latin music, choosing a Latin CD. A rhythmic beat filled the car. "I've never listened to Latin artists. The music has a … I can't quite put my finger on the feeling. I like it, though."

"Sensuality?" His smoldering green eyes perfectly illustrated the concept.
Sensuality indeed.

Her pulse skittered, and she looked away. "It might help if I understood the words."

"Sometimes you don't need words." Mingled with the throbbing drumbeat, his dark, smooth drawl shivered over her, and heat twisted in her belly. She started to tremble.

"But I guess understanding the lyrics
would
help."

"Do you?" she managed to croak, turning back to him.

"
Sí
señorita
,"
he replied, his eyes sparkling. "Foreign languages come in handy in the super-spy business."

"So, you speak Spanish and what else?"

Gabe shrugged.

"Don't be modest Mr. Bond, it doesn't suit you."

He chuckled. "I can get by in French, Arabic, German, Japanese, Italian and a smattering of Soviet and Chinese dialects."

She'd seen the quick intelligence lurking under his playful demeanor, but had still underestimated him. "I'm impressed."

"Don't be. I like to know what I'm ordering in a restaurant when I travel."

He turned onto a quiet residential street. The space between houses increased, until finally he entered a long driveway flanked by stone pillars. Yellow leaves fluttered down from the oak trees lining the driveway as he drove up the winding path that sheltered the house. He stopped the car in front of a gray stone cottage. "Home sweet rented house."

He ushered her inside. Her shoes sank into thick ivory carpet, the creamy color warming the soft white walls hung with verdant forest paintings. A brown leather sofa and chairs piled with light-blue, emerald-green and ivory pillows sat in an inviting semicircle around a huge beige stone fireplace.

An attached small dining area contained a whitewashed pine circular table flanked by four chairs. She caught a glimpse of emerald-green tiles and matching curtains in the kitchen.

Gabe gestured as he led her down the hallway. "Kitchen, deck on the patio, complete with hot tub. Unless that would freak you out?" He looked over his shoulder, brows raised.

"No, bathtubs and hot tubs don't bother me."

"Head,
er
, bathroom, to your right, hope you don't mind sharing." He pointed at the first door on the left. "Equipment and surveillance room. Stay out of there. My room," he indicated the last door on the right. "In which you're cordially welcome, anytime." The wolfish grin curving his lips sent an annoying sizzle sparking through her again.

Get a grip.

"Guest room." He opened the last door on the left and stood to one side so she could enter before depositing her suitcase on the powder-blue down comforter. "We've got forty minutes, so don't dawdle." Muttering something about his brain cells going AWOL, he departed.

A seascape hanging over the bed caught Tessa's gaze. A cold, anxious shudder wracked her. Deliberately turning her back on the painting, she slid the mirrored closet doors aside to hang her dresses on the empty rod. Arranging her clothes in the whitewashed dresser took ten minutes.

She changed, grabbed her raincoat, and strolled into the living room. Her new roommate turned from the window. His black tailored suit fit his muscular body to perfection. A
heathered
gray shirt and jade and gray patterned tie emphasized his striking green eyes. With his thick hair tamed back from its usual tousled state, he looked like he'd stepped off the pages of
GQ
. Very unlike the roguish pirate she'd gotten used to. Her throat constricted. "You look—"
Good enough to take a bite out of
"—nice."

"Thank you. You look nice yourself." Gabe let the drapes fall closed and studied the intriguing woman in front of him. She'd clipped her hair back, ruthlessly subduing her lush copper curls. An oversize, drab gray dress hid her spectacular figure. Clunky "sensible" shoes completed the ensemble.

Desire arrowed through his gut, his skin hot and tight. Damn, what was it about her? He'd never had a reaction like this to a woman. Oh, yeah, he was familiar with lust. This was something more.

He'd wanted Tessa at first sight, but the feeling went deeper than lust, and was much more complicated. Her sharp intelligence piqued his interest. Her quick retorts tweaked his sense of humor, and inspired reluctant affection. Her incredible courage and composure in the face of grave danger had won his respect. Complications he didn't need.

He swallowed the uneasiness churning inside him. He sure as hell wasn't used to being attracted to a woman for her mental attributes. In fact, he never stayed long enough to get to know them, or for attachments to form. On either side. Nothing lasted, nothing was forever.