Night Fires

by Sandra Marton

  ‘Are you crazy?’ James’s voice was hoarse. ‘I told you, Vitale’s never going to see daylight again.’

  ‘I know. That’s what you said. And—oh. I almost forgot these,’ she said, plucking the diamond clips from her ears. Ten thousand dollars—isn’t that obscene?’

  The earrings caught the light as they hurtled out of the window, tumbling over and over like tiny planets rushing to oblivion.

  James put out his hand, then let it fall to his side. ‘Listen to me. You’re throwing away everything. There won’t be any more, don’t you understand? Vitale— ’

  ‘Will never get out of prison.’ She smiled. ‘That’s what you said.’

  ‘Then what are you doing?’

  ‘Last, but certainly not least…’ She shrugged off the sable coat, stepping free of it as it fell gracefully to the floor. James stared at it, and then his eyes met hers. She smiled. ‘Actually, I hate to send the coat to a watery grave. I mean, why should all those little animals have died in vain?’

  James shoved his hand through his hair. The look on his face brought a bubble of laughter to her throat. ‘All right, that’s enough. Tell me what’s going on here.’

  She cocked her head, and her hair slipped across the silk of her nightgown. ‘What do you think—the coat, I mean. If we took it to a charity, could they find a use for it?’

  James swallowed hard. ‘If this is a game…’

  Gabrielle moved slowly towards him, stopping when she was a hand’s distance away.

  ‘No game,’ she said softly. She lifted her arms slowly and put them around his neck. His body stiffened beneath her touch. ‘I love you, James. I’ve loved you from the beginning.’ A smile tilted at her mouth. ‘Well, not that morning in the alley. You scared the life out of me then.’

  James’s arms rose, then fell to his sides. ‘You’re only saying that because Vitale’s going to be locked up for the rest of his life.’

  Gabrielle nodded. ‘That’s absolutely right.’ His eyes grew dark, and she sighed and put her hand to his face, smoothing away the lines in his forehead. ‘It wouldn’t be safe to tell you otherwise.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ he growled.

  ‘Vitale said he’d kill you if I didn’t go to him.’ She watched his face, waiting for some sign that he believed her, but it was like watching a mask. She rose on tiptoe and pressed her mouth lightly to his. ‘I love you, James.’ Still, he said nothing. Tears filled her eyes and gleamed on her dark lashes. ‘I even loved you the night I thought you’d been sent to kill me.’

  James groaned softly. ‘Gabrielle.’ His arms closed around her with a ferocity that drove the breath from her lungs. ‘My love,’ he whispered. ‘How could you have thought such a thing?’

  A dizzying rush of happiness swept through her. She lay her head against his shoulder, reveling in the feel of him in her arms.

  ‘How could you have believed I’d leave you for Tony Vitale?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said slowly. ‘Equal parts stupidity and blindness, I guess.’

  She leaned back in his arms and smiled. ‘You see? We were both dumb.’

  James smiled, and then his mouth narrowed to a thin line. ‘That bastard,’ he said. ‘Forcing you to go to him, imprisoning you…’

  ‘Hush.’ She kissed him lightly on the mouth. ‘I’d have gone to the ends of the earth for you, James. I’m just glad there was a way to keep you alive.’

  He drew her close to him. She could feel the race of his heart against hers.

  ‘Can you forgive me for ever doubting you?’ .

  ‘I told you, we were both foolish.’ She drew back and smiled at him. ‘But people in love aren’t known for logic.’

  ‘Sometimes they are,’ he said, and then he kissed her, gently at first, then with a passion that dazzled her senses. When he raised his head, he was smiling. ‘For instance—only a logical man would interrupt this long enough to ask for your hand in marriage.’

  Gabrielle laughed softly. ‘And only a logical woman would take time to accept.’ She kissed his neck, then leaned back in his arms and looked into his eyes. ‘Alma would approve of that proposal, sir. It was very sweet and old-fashioned.’

  James’s eyes darkened. ‘I like old-fashioned things,’ he murmured. ‘Like this nightgown you’re wearing. How do these buttons open?’

  She sighed as she guided his hands. ‘Easily,’ she whispered. ‘Let me show you.’

  High over the East River, the sun rose blazing into the morning sky.