To Have and to Hold (5 page)

“You're twisting everything around!” When she'd hugged Damon, it had been out of the most innocent kind of happiness. But Gabe was making it sound sordid, making her question her every action, her every word.

His jaw was granite, his next statement icy cold. “I swear to God, Jess, if you try to cheat on me with that useless excuse for a man, I'll divorce you so fast your head will spin. And then I'll accept the developers' offer—they haven't lost interest.”

She felt the blood leach out from under her skin. “You wouldn't.” Even Gabe wouldn't be so cruel. “I've given you
everything.
”

He scoffed. “You signed on for life, not one quick tumble in my bed. If that was what I'd wanted, I could've gotten it much cheaper and from someone far more experienced than you, sweetheart.”

The verbal slap hit so hard she couldn't find her voice.

“Your land has no real value to me in terms of this operation,” he continued. “I bought it to seal our deal and I can get rid of it as easily if you can't do your job as my wife. Think about that the next time you have an urge to meet your
friend.
” He left without giving her the chance to reply. Though what she would have said, she didn't know.

Collapsing into the chair, she cradled her head in her hands. But that didn't stop her mind from spinning into chaos. Gabe's threat had shocked her, making it viciously clear that her new husband trusted her about as much as he'd trust an alley cat. Still, she couldn't believe he'd taunted her with what he knew to be her greatest vulnerability.

The idea of her parents' legacy being razed for what the developers had called a retreat for the rich and famous, complete with swimming pool, tennis courts and a golf course, was her personal nightmare. They would destroy the beauty of everything her parents had worked so hard to achieve, an insult to their memory she simply couldn't bear. Unlike Gabriel, she cherished those memories. They were all she had left.

“Jess?”

Mrs. Croft's voice startled her into dropping her hands. “What is it?”

The older woman took in Jess's expression with concerned eyes but didn't ask any questions. “You've got a call.” She handed over the portable phone.

“Thanks.” Jess was about to answer when Mrs. C. made a gesture that had her placing a hand over the mouthpiece.

“You made your choice when you said your vows, my girl. Don't be looking back now.” With that advice, the other woman walked back inside the house.

Defeated by this evidence of yet another person who found it easy to believe she'd be unfaithful, Jess said a quiet, “Hello.”

“You alone, Jessie?”

H
er hand froze around the receiver. “Do you have a death wish, Damon? If Gabe had picked up the phone—”

“I would have hung up. No big deal.” He laughed but there was a bitter undertone to it she'd never before heard from him.

“Why are you calling?”

“I told you I wanted to talk to you.” A small pause. “You're still my friend, aren't you?”

Her heart softened. “Of course I am.”

“Even if he says no?”

“Don't go there.” Gabriel was the one topic she'd never discuss with Damon. “What's this I'm hearing about you and Kayla?” she asked instead, trying to be his friend.

The pause was longer this time. “We're done. I told you I should've never married her in the first place.”

“Damon,” she began, but he was already speaking.

“
I told you
and you went ahead and married that bast—” He cut himself off before she could. “I don't love her anymore.”

“You don't mean that.” And yet part of her, a part she didn't particularly like, hoped that he did. She'd held that secret hope ever since Kayla's car had broken down in Kowhai two years ago, and the beautiful brunette and Damon had become a couple almost overnight.

“You know who I should've married, don't you?” His voice lowered, became huskier.

She should have disconnected then and there but she didn't, overwhelmed by a need that had been years in the making. Because even in that single long-distance phone call, he hadn't said what she most needed to hear.

What she couldn't even let herself think, much less admit, was that she was acting this way out of anger at Gabriel.

“You, Jess. I should've married you.”

She pressed the end button with fingers that wouldn't stop trembling. She hated herself for having allowed Damon to go on, loathed the need in her that had turned her into the worst kind of hypocrite. Because while she might not have crossed the physical line into disloyalty, she'd inarguably crossed an emotional one.

The phone jangled to life again so suddenly she almost dropped it. “Hello?” A wary question.

The caller turned out to be Merri Tanner, a neighbor. Relieved, Jess chatted with her for a minute or two before Merri said, “We're having a bit of a barbecue tonight if you feel up to coming. Around sevenish. It's a busy time but we figured folks could use the chance to blow off some steam.”

A social buffer between her and Gabe was precisely what she needed today. “Sure. Sounds fun.” Hanging up after another few minutes, she stared out at the land in front of her. So strong, so enduring and capable of causing such pain to the human heart.

Tempting as it was to ask someone else to take a message about the barbecue to Gabe, that would have been cowardly. And her self-respect had already plunged to new depths after Damon's call. Putting the phone on the chair, she went to find her husband.

When guilt threatened to deprive her of her confidence, she fought it by nurturing her anger at Gabe's cruel threat, refining it, making it razor sharp. She would not give Gabriel Dumont the chance to use that indomitable will of his to crush her.

She located him talking to the foreman. He broke off his conversation when she caught his eye. “What is it?” There was no trace of anger in his voice. There was, in fact, no trace of any emotion.

“Merri's invited us over for a barbecue. Around seven.” She folded her arms. “I said we'd come.”

“Fine.” He reached out to tap her cheek with his index finger and the touch was so unexpectedly gentle, she didn't know how to react. “Must've been a long phone call—your skin's red here.”

Jerking away, she wondered if he could read the guilt in her eyes. Because this time, she
had
done something she wasn't proud of. But even that didn't excuse the things he'd said to her and she wasn't going to pretend otherwise. “Drop the act, Gabe. You feel more tenderness toward your bank balance than toward me.”

Something changed in his expression, became harder. “Good thing isn't it? If I didn't have that bank balance, you'd have been left high and dry.” Giving her a grim smile, he went back to his interrupted conversation with Jim.

Jess grit her teeth and told herself not to care. Easier said than done. The fact that he was right just rubbed salt into her wounds. She was no gold-digger but she'd needed what Gabe's money could do. If money hadn't been a factor, she'd never have made this devil's bargain. But she had. And now she had to pay the price.

Leaving the barn before she said something she shouldn't, she headed to the house and decided to make a salad for the barbecue. Since the food preparation distracted her, at least for a little while, she baked a marble cake as well.

By the time five-thirty rolled around, everything was ready to go and so was she. She'd chosen her clothes with care, needing to feel good about herself—a calf-length wool skirt and white angora sweater teamed with her favorite knee-high leather boots.

Gabe hadn't said a word upon entering the kitchen, where she was putting everything into a picnic basket. But now he fingered the damp strands of her hair. “I think I'll get you to leave the boots on tonight.”

She knew he was being deliberately provocative in response to her cool attitude, but her treacherous body wanted to shiver at the implied eroticism. Pulling away, she put several feet of distance between them.

“Cat got your tongue, Jess?” Wearing sand-colored corduroy trousers and a cable-knit sweater in dark navy, he looked both confident and intrinsically male. “Want me to find it for you?”

Ignoring the taunt, she picked up the basket. “Let's head off.”

Gabe reached out and took the basket from her. She didn't fight him, able to tell that it had been an instinctive act on his part. If she made a fuss, he'd figure out pretty damn quick that she was nowhere near as calm as she was attempting to appear.

“It'll take us more than two hours to drive over to their spread. I'll fly us instead.”

“No. I want to drive.” It was an impulsive decision—she needed the solid earth beneath her feet.

Raising an eyebrow, he nonetheless walked out to the rugged Jeep he'd parked in front of the house. “Fine.” He put the basket in back.

Opening the passenger door, she started to get in. “Merri said sevenish so that probably means it'll be close to eight by the time most folks make it anyway.”

Gabe grabbed her door when she would have pulled it shut. The scent of his aftershave wove around her like a net. “Try not to glare at me all evening. It's hardly the impression I want to give people of our marriage.” Slamming the door, he walked around to the driver's side and got in.

“If you're going to blackmail me with the developers' offer, then don't expect me to be sweetness and light.”

“Sweetness and light?” He snorted and started the car. “Jessie, you've been sulking since you landed.”

“Don't call me that.”

The tires squealed as he accelerated down the drive. “Why? Because it's Damon's pet name for you?”

“That has nothing to do with it.”

“Could've fooled me.”

She folded her arms. “People who like me use that name. You don't like or trust me. So stick with Jess or Jessica.”

He didn't say a word for the next two hours and neither did she. It was only as they were about to pull into the Tanners' place that she broke their silence. “Is there any other news I should know?”

“You know the biggest.” He brought the Jeep to a smooth stop behind a mud-splattered small truck. Contrary to Jess's prediction, it looked as though a lot of people had already arrived. “You've probably heard that Sylvie's back from the States.”

Ice shot through her veins. “When did that happen?”

“Couple of months ago.” Nothing in his tone betrayed his feelings on the subject, leaving her at the mercy of her own imagination. The rumor was that Sylvie had broken off her relationship with Gabe in order to pursue her career.

If the gossip was true, then Jess could well believe Gabe would refuse to forgive Sylvie, even going so far as to marry another woman. But that didn't mean he no longer had feelings for the beautiful blonde…feelings he'd never have for his bride. Not that she cared. Jess shoved open her door with enough force to send it swinging.

Grabbing the basket, they walked toward the Tanners' large backyard side by side. Halfway there Gabe put his arm around her and bent so close his breath fanned her hair as he spoke. “Smile, Jessica. We're supposed to be in the honeymoon phase.”

She didn't know what made her do it. Sliding her own arm around his waist, she gave him a saccharine sweet smile as they rounded the final corner. “Oh
honey
, that's so sweet!”

Gabe's low warning came too late. Several people had overheard and were now ribbing him about turning soft. He took the kidding good-naturedly, but his arm didn't move from around her waist, even as he handed over the basket to young Simon Tanner.

Jess used the excuse of shaking Mr. Tanner's hand to withdraw her own arm from around Gabe's waist. It made her feel decidedly odd to sense the warmth of him through their clothing, an intimacy so quiet it was more disturbing than if they'd been exchanging passionate kisses.

“Good to see you, Jess,” Mr. Tanner boomed. “We missed you.”

“It's nice to be home.”

“Gabriel, you've done well. Jess is the prettiest girl here.”

“I know.”

Jess had to fight the urge to kick Gabe for that boldfaced lie. She thought she'd glimpsed Sylvie Ryan's stunning form in the glow of the fairy lights and hurricane lanterns that had been strung out over the yard.

“Good, good.” Mr. Tanner saw someone else arriving and went off to welcome them, leaving Gabe and Jess to be congratulated by a steady stream of well-wishers.

“Thank you,” she said for the fiftieth time and made an unobtrusive move to pull away from the disconcerting heat of Gabe's touch. His arm tightened. Unable to say anything because of the others, she smiled and kept up the chatter, all the while wondering if the man was ever going to let her go.

“So when are you two giving a party to celebrate the wedding?” Kerry Lynn asked Jess, while her husband spoke with Gabe.

“We haven't discussed it.”

“Well, sometime soon would be good you know. Wait much longer and work's going to hit fever pitch.”

Jess nodded. Most of the people in this area owned or worked for stations. “What kind of a party would you suggest?” Her question was more for conversation's sake than because she really wanted an event to celebrate the mockery of her marriage.

“A sit-down dinner would be nice. Like in a reception hall.”

Jess couldn't think of anything worse than being stuck in front of people scrutinizing her and Gabe's every move. “Or maybe an upscale-type picnic,” she threw out in desperation. “We could get it catered, have tables and chairs out on the lawn, some music so people could dance.”

“That sounds wonderful, darling,” Gabriel said, and she knew he was laughing at her. “If we set up a marquee and put out some space-heaters, it shouldn't be too cold.”

“Uh-huh,” she muttered, hoping that that would be the end of it.

“Oh, Graham's band could play!” Kerry clapped her hands, drawing another group to theirs.

Several people seconded her suggestion and Graham Lynn beamed. Jess had the sense of control slipping through her fingertips. “I didn't know you had a band, Graham,” she said weakly, leaning against Gabe without conscious thought.

He hugged her to his side and took charge of the conversation with a disarming charm she'd never have expected from him. “We'll let you know soon as we have a date. But for now, we'd better go say hello to some of the others before Jess's jet lag catches up with her.”

The group smiled and let them escape but Jess knew the deal was done. “We're going to have to hold that damn party aren't we?”

“Tut-tut, such language, Jessica.”

“Stop calling me Jessica.” She knew it was a stupid response when she was the one who'd told him to use that name, but it sounded completely wrong. “No one calls me that.”

“Your husband does, Jessica darling.” His lips brushed her ear as he spoke.

She was fighting a losing battle against the butterflies in her stomach when a husky female chuckle broke the moment. “Well, well, if it isn't Mr. and Mrs. Dumont.”

Steeling her spine, Jess looked up. “Hello, Sylvie. Gabriel said you were back.”

“Hi, sweetie.” Sylvie leaned in to kiss Jess on the cheek as if they were old friends. The truth was the exact opposite—the daughter of a judge and a large station owner, Sylvie Ryan had never before deigned to speak to a nobody like Jess Randall.