“We’re off for Columbus Day, Veteran’s Day, Thanksgiving, and of course the Winter Recess.”
Alexandra shook her head. “That’s too far away. It looks as if you’re going to have to fly down for a weekend. You have to sing at my wedding.”
“Let me know and I’ll be there.” He angled his head. “What about your job with the Trust?”
“If there’s an opening in the Southern region, then I’ll request a transfer.”
“And if there isn’t?”
“Then I’ll sit home knitting booties and piecing quilts until the baby comes.”
“What do you want? Boy? Girl?”
“I don’t care as long as it’s healthy.”
“Will I be able to find you in the West Virginia hills?”
“We plan to use the house in West Virginia for our vacation getaway. Merrick and I have talked about buying property in a D.C. suburb. The Central Intelligence Agency has been after him for years to come back, so he’s returning as an intelligence research training specialist.”
“That sounds good. You, Michael and Jolene can raised your kids together.”
“What’s nice is that our children will get to see one another more than we saw Michael and Emily.”
“You’re right,” Gabriel agreed. Michael and Emily Kirkland had grown up in Santa Fe, New Mexico, and they usually saw them at family gatherings once or twice a year. Emily still lived in New Mexico with her husband and three children, but her brother had moved to the D.C. area after having been assigned to the Pentagon as a captain in the U.S. Army. Michael had met his future wife, Jolene in Georgetown. She had given birth to her second child, a son, last Christmas.
“When do you plan to tell Mom and Dad?”
“Next weekend. I’m planning to fly down to Florida see them on Friday.”
Gabriel glanced at his watch. It was only minutes before midnight. “I hope you know you’re spending the night here.”
She nodded. “I don’t think I could make it back to Boston without falling asleep behind the wheel.”
“Did you bring luggage?”
“I have an overnight bag in the trunk of the car.”
“Go upstairs and get ready for bed. I’ll bring your bag up.”
Alexandra stared lovingly at her older brother. “Thank you, Gabe.”
“For what?”
“For being you.”
He cradled her to his chest, kissing her cheek. “Love you, Sis.”
“Love you back, Bro.”
The house was silent by the time Gabriel slipped into bed—alone. Two women slept under his roof: his sister and a woman who had intrigued him from the first time he saw her.
A wry smile curved his mouth as he folded his arms under his head. His sister was pregnant!
Alexandra had found love with a man she’d planned to share her life with, and he wondered if he would ever share that experience with a woman.
Turning over, he stared at the blackness of the sky through the glass on the French doors. He had thought his life complete. He had his music, a house built to his specifications, and enough money to last him several lifetimes. His life was full, yet it was empty. And after spending several hours with Summer, he had come to the realization that it was not the things that would make him whole, but a someone.
She unknowingly had become that someone.
Six
Summer skipped down the staircase in her jogging gear. She had awakened feeling more refreshed than she had in months. After leaving her bed, she drew back the drapes, opened the French doors, and inhaled a lungful of tangy salt-filled air. She’d stood on the deck, watching the sky brighten with the dawn of a new day before she went into the bathroom to brush her teeth and shower.
The aromatic smell of brewing coffee and the strains of soft music playing greeted her as she stepped off the last stair. Making her way to the kitchen she stopped, her jaw dropping, when she saw Gabriel sitting at the kitchen table sharing a cup of coffee with a dark-haired woman. His unbound damp hair hung down his back like satin ribbons.
Her gaze met those of the woman’s and when she smiled, Summer knew she was Gabriel’s sister. Both had gold-brown eyes and a dimpled smile.
Alexandra lifted an eyebrow at her brother. “Shame on you, brother,” she said softly in Spanish. “You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend.”
Gabriel jumped up, his chair crashing to the floor in a loud clatter. He stared at Summer, looking her over seductively as if he had never seen her before. She stood under the arched entrance dressed in a gray sweatshirt, matching pants and running shoes. Her hair, secured in a single braid, fell over one shoulder. He picked up the chair without taking his gaze off her.
“I’m not his girlfriend. We are colleagues,” Summer said in a quiet voice.
Gabriel blinked once, coming out of his trance. “You understand Spanish?”
“Yes.” And she had to thank her parents for that. They had perfected the language after having lived in Peru for several years. Having the facility to speak more than one language had become an asset when she had submitted her application to the DEA.
Walking into the kitchen, she extended her hand. “I’m Summer Montgomery.”
Rising to her feet, Alexandra leaned over the table and shook Summer’s hand. “Alexandra Cole. “Your colleague’s sister.”
Gabriel pulled out a chair at the table for Summer. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
She sat down, taking in everything about him in one sweeping glance. He’d showered, but hadn’t shaved, and the stubble on his chin and jaw made him appear dark and dangerous. The white T-shirt stretched over a broad chest failed to disguise his toned pectorals and flat abs. She stared at his black drawstring sweatpants. He was so breathtakingly virile that she found it hard to draw a breath without it catching in her throat. Her gaze lowered. His long, slender tanned feet were bare.
“No, thank you. I usually don’t eat or drink anything before jogging.”
He captured and held her gaze. “What would you like for breakfast?”
“Fruit, a slice of toast, and decaf coffee.”
Retaking her seat, Alexandra smiled at Gabriel. “If you’re taking orders, then I’ll have grits, eggs, bacon or sausage, and biscuits.”
He frowned at her. “If you keep eating like that, I’m going to start calling you porky.”
“Bite me, Gabriel Morris Cole!”
He wrinkled his nose at her. “Sorry, Sis, but I’ll leave that task for Merrick.”
Alexandra stuck out her tongue at her brother. “You’re gross.”
Summer enjoyed the good-natured bantering between Gabriel and Alexandra, but felt like an intruder. Pushing back her chair, she stood up. “Please excuse me. I’d like to complete my jog before the sun gets too hot. I’ll be back later,” she said, turning and making her way out of the kitchen.
Alexandra watched Gabriel staring at Summer’s retreating figure, a knowing smile curving her lips. “She’s beautiful.”
“That she is,” he said matter-of-factly.
“You like her don’t you?”
He didn’t look at his sister. “Yes.”
“Does working with her pose a problem for you?”
“For me, no.”
“What about her?”
“She’s reluctant.”
“Does that matter to you?”
Shifting slightly, he stared at Alexandra. “No. I can’t change how I feel about someone just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “We’ve agreed to take it slow and see what becomes of it.”
“That’s the same thing Merrick said to me. And now we’re planning a wedding.”
Gabriel held up a hand. “Back it up, Alex. No one said anything about getting married.”
“Don’t you want to get married? Start your own family?”
“I don’t consciously think about it.”
“You didn’t answer my question, Gabriel.”
“And I don’t intend to answer it, Alexandra.”
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“You don’t have to,” she said smugly. “And because you’re being evasive tells me that you do.”
“Just because your fairy godmother has sprinkled you with love dust, it doesn’t mean it will happen to me.”
“It’s going to happen, Gabe,” she predicted. The expression on his face when Summer entered the kitchen was one Alexandra had never seen before, and she had seen her brother with enough women to know this one was different.
“Next you’re going to tell me that you can read palms.”
Alexandra’s expression changed as she sprang up at the same time she covered her mouth with a hand and raced to the half-bath near the pantry.
Gabriel stared at the space where his sister had sat. “Morning sickness,” he whispered.
No, he told himself. He did not want to marry or father children. He would leave that to his siblings.
Summer ran along the two-lane road parallel to the beach, her stride even, arms pumping smoothly at her sides. She felt free, freer than she had at any other time in her life. The only exception was when she had been on stage. Once she stepped into a role, she became the character. It was the same when she went undercover. It did not matter whether she was Keisha, Denise or Michelle, each role was played to perfection.
But now she was Summer, undercover agent and drama teacher. She was sleeping under the roof of a man who reminded her that she was a woman—one with desires and needs.
There was something about Gabriel that soothed her while also making her heart race and pulse throb. When he’d held and kissed her she had to fight her overwhelming need not to beg him to make love to her.
Stay focused. Stay focused. The two words echoed in her ears in concert with her rubber soles meeting the asphalt. “Damn you, Lucas,” she whispered.
It was as if her supervisor had become her conscience, reminding her of who she was and what was expected from her. She had always given Lucas what he wanted. When was she going to give herself what she wanted? She couldn’t remember the last time she had truly enjoyed herself with a man, and Gabriel Cole was offering her an opportunity to laugh without censuring herself, enjoy being alive, and more importantly, to be a woman.
Raising her left arm, she glanced at the pedometer strapped to her wrist. She had jogged a mile and a half. Crossing the road, she reversed direction, smiling. She was willing to accept what he was offering without a commitment or declaration of love.
A frown furrowed Gabriel’s forehead as he watched the taillights on Alexandra’s rental car fade from his line of vision. He’d tried, unsuccessfully, to convince her not to drive back to Boston alone, that he would accompany her, but she had rejected his offer. Her argument was how would he get back to Cotuit, and his response had been that he would hire a car service. Of all of David and Serena Cole’s children, Alexandra was the most stubborn. A wry smile replaced his frown. There was no doubt Merrick Grayslake had his work cut out for him once he married Alexandra.
The image of the woman who had occupied most of his waking thoughts the past twenty-four hours walked toward him. Hands resting on her hips, her chest rose and fell in a deep, even rhythm. The beginning of a smile tipped the corners of his mouth as she moved closer. He wasn’t disappointed when she returned his smile.
Breathing deeply, Summer inhaled a lungful of ocean air. “What are you smiling about?”
His smile widened. “You.”
“What about me?”
“I think if I’d had a teacher who looked like you I would’ve been certain to get left back every year.”
Summer gave him a sassy grin. “Are you flirting with me, Gabriel?”
“Oh, hell yeah, Summer.”
Winding her arm through his, she rested her head against his shoulder. “Have you no shame? You could’ve at least pretended you weren’t.”
“Shame, Summer? Have you forgotten I’m a decadent musician? Shame is not in my vocabulary.”
She smiled up at him. “But didn’t you tell me you were one of the nice guys?”
He stared at her under lowered lashes. “Nice, but a bad boy.”
Summer went completely still. “I like bad boys.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re never boring.”
His crooked grin was back. “I usually don’t makes promises, but I can promise you that we will have a good time together.”
“And I can promise you that you will have the ride of your life.”
“Ouch, Miss Montgomery, I’m afraid of you.”
“You should be,” she teased.
Gabriel covered the slender hand looped over his arm. “Alexandra won’t be sharing breakfast with us. She wasn’t feeling well, so she decided to return to Boston, hoping she can get an earlier flight back to D.C.” His sister had reassured him she would hire a private jet for her return trip. She had also called her fiancé, asking that he meet her at the airport upon her arrival.
“Are grits still on the menu?”
He nodded. “What else do you want?”
“Salmon cakes.”
Lowering his head, he pressed his mouth to her ear. “Anything else?”
“Biscuits,” she whispered.
Gabriel lifted an eyebrow. “Now, that’s questionable. I’m rather hit and miss with biscuits.”
“Then, I’ll make the biscuits.”
“Can you make them with cheese and chives?”
She gave him a warning look. “Don’t push it, Gabriel.”
“Okay,” he conceded. “I’ll accept the generic brand.”
Easing away from him, Summer said, “I need to shower.”
Gabriel’s gaze was riveted on her face before it moved down her body, then reversed itself. “Do you need help washing your back?”
Heart pumping wildly in her chest and pulse echoing in her ears, Summer saw the smoldering flame in the large golden eyes. There was a maddening hint of arrogance about him—an arrogance she admired because it complemented rather than detracted from his image as a musical superstar.
His invitation was a passionate challenge she wanted to accept She longed for the protectiveness of his strong embrace, communicating without words that she was safe, that she had nothing to fear. She wanted to lie in his arms, her naked body pressed to his, experiencing what it meant to be born female. And she wanted to experience the fulfillment of making love with a man who had slipped under the barrier and made her forget she was Renegade.
“Not this morning.” Her voice had dropped an octave.
Gabriel hadn’t moved. A rising sea breeze stirred his unbound hair around his face, but he made no effort to push it off his forehead. “When, Summer?”
“I’ll let you know.”
Gabriel’s smile did not meet his eyes as he stared at Summer with an intensity that heated her blood. He inclined his head. “I’ll be waiting.”
Turning, she walked in the direction of the house, feeling the heat of his gaze following her. It wasn’t until she closed the door to her bedroom that she was able to draw a normal breath.
She did it!
She had indirectly told Gabriel Cole that she would share her body, but not her life with him.
Seven
Summer kneaded shredded cheddar cheese and dried chives into a mound of dough on a floured butcher-block countertop. Gabriel stood several feet away chopping Vidalia onions and red and green bell peppers like a trained chef before folding the mixture into a bowl of canned pink salmon.
She gave him a sidelong glance. He had secured his hair on the nape of his neck with an elastic band. “You handle that knife like a pro.”
“I learned to cook before I was tall enough to look over the stove. My mother would sit me on a high stool while she prepared what I thought of as the most delicious and eye-appealing dishes. I think I was transfixed by the colors of the spices she used in most of her Caribbean-style dishes. In teaching me and my brother to cook, she continued the tradition
of Cole men not having to depend upon a woman to fill their bellies.”
And there was no doubt Gabriel enjoyed cooking. The ultra-modern kitchen was designed for a chef. A variety of pots and pans hanging from overhead hooks, two eye-level ovens, a built-in microwave, and a massive Viking range with a stove top grill were ideal for cooking for a couple or a crowd.
Gabriel smiled at Summer. It was apparent she also knew her way around the kitchen. She had combined all of the ingredients for the biscuits without measuring any of them. “Who taught you?”
“Gram. She made all of her bread. I was in college before I ate a store-bought loaf for the first time.”
“How did you like it?”
She grimaced, wrinkling her nose. “I hated it. I felt as if I was eating glue. That was the first and last time I ate it.”
Gabriel filed away this information. He hadn’t perfected the art of baking his own bread. However, there was a nearby bakery where he could buy fresh-baked goods.
“How old is your grandmother?”
“Eighty-two.”
“She’s a youngster compared to my grandmother. Abuela will celebrate her one hundred-third birthday in December.”
“God bless her.”
“He has,” Gabriel confirmed. “Other than being frail, she’s still very alert. The only thing I find different about her is her refusal to communicate in English. So, if you don’t speak Spanish then you’re what kids call ‘assed-out.’ By the way, where did you learn to speak Spanish?”
“Both my parents are bilingual. Remember I told you they lived in Peru for several years. My father also knows enough French to get by in any French-speaking country. Did you learn Spanish from your grandmother?”
Gabriel shook his head. “Like yours, my parents are bilingual. My Cuban-born abuela taught all her children the language, while my mother grew up in Costa Rica.”
“Is she Costa Rican?”
“No. She was born in Ohio, but moved there when her widowed mother married a Costa Rican.”
“How did your mother meet your father?”
“He’d gone to Costa Rica for a business meeting with Mom’s stepfather, and was assaulted before he arrived. It became somewhat of a fairy tale when Mom nursed Dad during his convalescence. One thing led to another and before long I was conceived.”
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