“You really were a great friend to him. You still are.”
“Other than making out with his fiancée.”
She stopped dancing and took his face in her hands. “I’m the one that kissed you. I’m the one who deserves the blame.”
“You really think you started that?” He gripped her wrists but couldn’t bring himself to lower her arms, her cool touch enticing him even with his conscience chewing him up inside.
“I know I did, because I was eaten up with guilt over being attracted to you.” Her fingers unfurled, and she swayed toward him. “Not just that one day, but weeks prior to that.”
“Weeks?” He brought her closer.
“It wasn’t some massive event that changed things. Just one evening we were on a riverboat dinner cruise and you were standing by the rail.” She leaned into him, her eyes glimmering with tears and confusion. “Something just shifted inside me, something scary. But Kevin was so close to deploying. How could I tell him then? He and I wouldn’t have had time to sort through anything before he left. I wasn’t even sure what I felt for you. Then that day I fought with Kevin, cried in your arms…”
“You only acted on something I’d been feeling from the first day I met you. Once you kissed me, believe me, I was one-hundred-percent all in.”
Her eyes went wide with surprise—and an answering hunger. Unable to resist her now any more than he’d been able to then, he dipped his head. He kissed her. He had to. Since he’d come back to New Orleans, they’d been shadow boxing with this moment. But here, tonight, under the stars, he wanted her, and he could feel that she wanted him too from the way she wriggled to get closer. He couldn’t sense even the least bit of hesitation in her response.
She looped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, a perfect fit just like a year ago. Her lips parted, and he didn’t need any further invitation to take the kiss deeper. He cupped her bottom and lifted her more securely against him until her toes left the ground.
Pivoting, he backed her against an ancient oak. Her fingers roved restlessly into his hair. The press of her body against his had him hard and throbbing in a flash. Her soft br**sts against his chest made him ache to peel away their clothes.
Now that he had her against him again, the taste of her fresh on his tongue, he had to savor the moment for an extra stroke longer. With each pounding of his heart against his ribs, he knew he couldn’t let her walk away again without taking this to completion. Ignoring the attraction hadn’t worked, in fact, it had only increased the urgent need to explore every inch of her body with his eyes, his hands, his mouth.
A cry mingled with the music, bringing him up short.
Max.
The infant’s hungry wails grew louder.
Gabrielle froze in Hank’s arms, then stepped away sharply. Her hands shook as she swept her hair back and rushed past him through the open French doors. He sagged back against a hundred-year-old oak and felt just about as ancient, the weight of what he’d almost done bearing down on his shoulders.
He couldn’t—shouldn’t—finish this, not tonight, not now when she was nearly dead on her feet with exhaustion. Her son had just gotten home from the hospital. She was feeling vulnerable. Only a selfish bastard would take what she offered and to hell with his conscience. She needed sleep—and they both needed to find a way to put Kevin’s ghost to rest.
Because regardless of whether or not she wore that three-carat ring or not, Kevin’s memory still stood firmly between them.
* * *
As the grandfather clock in the hall chimed midnight, Gabrielle stared at the blurry words on her computer screen, her foot lightly rocking her son’s infant seat. The band still played next door, the neighbors’ party going on into the night.
She wished she could blame her lack of focus on exhaustion, but she couldn’t lie to herself, not tonight. While she should be catching up on work, her mind was too full of dancing with Hank.
Then he’d kissed her.
His mouth on hers, his hands on her body had felt every bit as earth-shattering as she’d remembered. So much so she’d almost forgotten about her son sleeping a few feet away. She’d grabbed her child and raced up the stairs, using Max’s feeding as an excuse to gather her thoughts and composure.
Okay, hell, truth be told, she was hiding out in her room.
Once she’d fed and changed Max in the nursery, she’d come back to her room to find dinner had been brought to her. Dinner for one with a note from Hank.
See you in the morning.
He’d simply scrawled H for a signature, the stroke of the pen heavy and thick. Strong and bold like the man.
And smart. He’d been right to bring her food here and leave. They both needed space. So much was happening in such a short time.
Still, the meal had tasted bittersweet, each bite reminding her of how special the evening had started off. Dancing with him under the moonlight with live music lent a timeless air to the night. They could have been any couple, even centuries ago. Surely being any other couple would have made things less complicated.
Max’s cry then reminded her of her responsibilities. She couldn’t afford to forget them for a second. Rather than go to sleep after feeding her son, she’d parked her butt with her laptop computer to catch up on work she’d let slide while he was in the hospital.
The sooner she finished, the sooner she could sleep, and she would need a clear head to think through how she wanted to approach Hank in the morning.
Forcing her bleary eyes to focus, she clicked through the rest of her backlog of emails, then closed her computer. She glanced at her watch. One in the morning. With the time change, her mother should be waking up now.
Gabrielle shifted Max from his infant seat to his crib in the nursery so her conversation wouldn’t wake him up. Still, she left the connecting door open so she could be sure to hear him.
Collapsing back into the pile of pillows and bolsters, she grabbed her cell phone off the bedside table and thumbed her parents’ number. The billowy soft bed, the jazz music and the scent of Hank clinging to her dress stirred her already hyperaware senses.
The ringing on the other end stopped as her mother finally picked up.
Gabrielle clutched the phone tighter and rolled onto her side, staring out the window at the twinkling lights on the trees next door. “Hey, Mama, it’s me.”
“Is everything all right with Max? With you?” her mother asked in a panicked voice.
“Don’t worry. Everything’s fine.” Empathy tugged at her heart. While she swore she wouldn’t be as overpowering as her mom, she was starting to understand how easy it would be to let those parental fears take control. “I’m only calling to let you know Max is home from the hospital.”
“Your apartment is fixed already?” The sounds of her cooking breakfast echoed in the background, clanking pots and water running, familiar sounds of home. “How perfect that could be taken care of while you were with Max.”
“Uh, actually, I am staying with a friend.”
“In New Orleans? Do I know this friend?”
“Him. Hank,” she blurted out, even though telling her mother was probably a totally stupid idea. And saying his name, admitting they were staying together, lent an importance to the relationship she wasn’t sure if she could wrap her thoughts around just yet. “He’s a friend of Kevin’s. A friend of mine.”
“Do I know this friend? This man?”
“Kevin’s friend.”
“Hank? As in Hank Renshaw, Jr.?” Most mothers would have been turning cartwheels over their daughter hanging out with one of America’s most eligible bachelors, but there was no missing the censure in her mom’s tone. “Gabrielle, are you sure now’s the right time to get involved with anyone?”
Like she really had a choice? She couldn’t ignore the truth now the way she had a year ago. Her attraction to Hank went way beyond friendship.
“Mama, I understand you’re just worried, but I’m an adult, perfectly capable of handling my own life.” She spoke quickly so her mother wouldn’t be able to wedge a word in edgewise. “I love you, truly I do, but I need to hang up now and get some sleep. Give my love to Daddy and everyone else. Okay? Goodbye.”
Gabrielle ended the call and tossed aside the phone, gnawing her lip. In less than two weeks Hank would report back to Barksdale Air Force Base. He would be hours away, and she would be back in her apartment. No. She needed to accept her life had changed. She couldn’t live in this holding pattern. She would have to find a different, more kid-friendly place to live. And in order to do that on her limited budget, she would have to move outside the city limits. Time to shift out of the holding pattern she’d been living in.
Those changes included more than just her living situation. She needed to stop avoiding her attraction to Hank. Starting first thing tomorrow, she would confront Hank. No more pretending. No more avoiding.
She and Hank were meant to be lovers.
Seven
She ached to have him. Her flesh was on fire from months, years of wanting Hank.
And here in her dream world she could have him.
They could make love under a sprawling oak tree with twinkling lights that echoed the sparks of desire crackling through her. She could almost feel the silky inside of his leather jacket, spread on the ground beneath her. She could stroke and savor the hard planes of his chest as he loomed over her, thrusting into her, filling her, taking her so close to the edge of completion.
Her body burned for the fulfillment only he could offer. She moaned her need for him to take her the rest of the way there, not to leave her hungry, hurting, wanting… .
Gabrielle bolted upright in bed, the scent of leather still lingering from her dream. Her dream that had been cut short before she’d reached satisfaction.
Blinking fast against the bright morning sun streaking through the window, she struggled to orient herself. She was alone in her bed, covers tangled around her legs. She kicked free of the sheets and her erotic images of Hank.
Or at least she tried to. The unfulfilled ache still lingered between her legs, echoing the near painful tingling in her br**sts.
Her full and tender br**sts.
Oh, God.
She pressed her hands to her chest and realized…it was morning, and she still wore her dress from yesterday. She’d fallen asleep just after hanging up with her mom. She hadn’t fed Max since just before midnight.
Her son hadn’t woken up.
Panicked, she shot from the bed and almost fell on her face tripping over the trailing comforter. Her heart lodged in her throat, fear threatening to strangle her. She raced across the room, past her damn computer that had kept her up so late. Had her son cried for her and she didn’t hear him because of her exhaustion? Guilt tore at her. She ripped open the connecting door to the nursery, wondering how it could have drifted closed in the night without her hearing.
Her eyes homed in on the crib, the empty crib. A cry strangled in her throat. She looked around frantically until her gaze hitched on the corner rocking chair.
Her son was being held by…Leonie Lanier?