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Renegade

Page 8

by Alers, Rochelle


  “Are you saying you were conceived in Costa Rica?” Summer asked as she filled a baking pan with a dozen biscuits, pricked the tops with a fork, then brushed them with melted butter. Opening the door to the pre-heated oven, she placed the pan on a rack and closed the door.

  “I did the math. My folks were married early September, and I was born March thirty-first. A seven pound, eight ounce baby is a little large for a six-month preemie.”

  Summer laughed, the sound low and sensual. “Perhaps they couldn’t wait.”

  “Dad said that he took one look at Serena Morris and fell head over heels in love with her.”

  “Good for him. He saw what he wanted and went after it.”

  Gabriel formed patties from the salmon mixture, dropping them onto the heated griddle. Everyone had remarked how much he reminded them of his father, in looks and personality. And like David Cole he had taken one look at Summer Montgomery and felt as if he had been pole axed.

  He did not know if what he felt for her was love, only because he had never been in love. But what he did feel was a combination of curiosity and desire. He was curious to know the real Summer—the one under the tailored attire when she was at Weir and the one who wore a pair of sweatpants with the same sensual aplomb of a Victoria Secret’s model in a lace thong.

  Her passion for music matched his, while he was intrigued by her aloofness. But there was something about her, something she’d kept hidden, that he knew instinctively she would never share with him.

  It was at that moment that Gabriel knew why he had invited Summer to his home. It was not to plan a spring concert, but to get to know her. And he wanted to know everything about her, which in turn would help him to understand why he was drawn to her with an intensity he had never felt with another woman.

  It did not matter whether they were three feet or three hundred feet from each other—her pull on him was as strong as the moon on the tide.

  Summer washed the flour off her hands in a sink on the cooking island. “I suppose I have to change my initial opinion of you.”

  His hands stilled. “And that is?”

  “I thought you had grown up a spoiled rich kid whose every whim was indulged.”

  Smiling, Gabriel shook his head. “Not so. I had my share of being grounded. I preferred Dad grounding me rather than my mother. After a few days, Dad would forget why I wasn’t allowed to hang out with my friends or go to the mall. Not so with Serena Cole. What she would do is dredge up old infractions to add on to the sentence. Alex and I called her ‘the warden’ behind her back. It wasn’t until I was a teenager that I asked Dad why he would sometimes salute Mom. He confided that he’d once called her ‘the little general,’ and paid for it by having to sleep in the guest wing for a week. I wasn’t sexually active at the time, but I knew exactly what he was referring to. He said they eventually made up, and nine months later, Ana and Jason were born.”

  A wide grin crinkled the skin around Summer’s eyes. “I suppose they’ll never forget that reconciliation.”

  “You’re right about that. My parents wanted four children, but hadn’t planned on having twins. Alex came along four years after me, and Jason and Ana five years after Alex.”

  “They waited a long time in between births.”

  “That was my mother’s decision. She said she wanted to avoid sibling jealousy whenever a new baby arrived.”

  “It sounds like you had a lot of fun growing up in a big family.”

  Gabriel shrugged a shoulder. “I know if having four children is a what you would call a big family.”

  “Nowadays it is.”

  “I’d say anything over six is big.”

  “That’s a basketball team.”

  He went completely still. “You like basketball?”

  “Does a cat lick its whiskers?”

  Gabriel’s smile was dazzling. “Will you go with me to a few games?”

  “Which teams?”

  “Celtics and Knicks.”

  “Do you have tickets?”

  “I can always get tickets.”

  Summer glared at him under lowered eyebrows. “From scalpers?”

  Gabriel stuck his tongue out at her, and she offered him a wide grin. “I happen to have some juice in certain venues, Miss Montgomery,” he teased.

  “If that’s the case, then count me in. But it has to be on the up-and-up.” She could not afford to become involved in something that was outside the law.

  Gabriel wanted to tell Summer that he did not have to resort to illegalities to get what he wanted because of his net worth. Whatever he wanted could be accomplished by a single telephone call.

  They sat down to eat breakfast, and neither could remember the last time they’d shared a more pleasant dining experience. The meal was exceptional and their partner incomparable.

  Summer lay on her belly on a blanket on the beach with Gabriel, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her bare shoulders. They’d cleaned the kitchen, then spread a blanket out on the beach to brainstorm their plans for the spring concert. Rolling over onto her side, she stared at him staring back at her.

  “What do you think of using a timeline?”

  Resting his head on a folded arm, Gabriel’s gaze dropped to her mouth. “In what way?”

  “We begin with the origin of music. And because we know the drum and voice were the first instruments, we can use ancient rhythms. Then we can simulate string instruments like a lute or lyre, tambourine, horns, and bells until we get to the forerunner of the piano.”

  Reaching over with his left hand, Gabriel brushed several strands of hair that had escaped the single braid away from her cheek. Summer’s hand moved quicker than his eye could follow, grasping his wrist in a strong grip. His gaze widened. Her reflexes were incredibly fast, and her fingers much stronger than they appeared.

  “Don’t,” she said quietly, pulling his hand away from her face. “You’re distracting me.” She released his hand.

  It was Gabriel’s turn to move quickly as he shifted, straddling her. “That’s because you’re distracting me.”

  Summer knew it was useless to try and push him off her without inflicting pain, so she suffered the crush of his body pressing down on hers. She felt every muscle in his body as her softer curves melded against his length.

  She studied the lean dark-skinned face inches from her own. The warmth of him swept over her like a protective blanket. “What do you want?”

  Long, thick black lashes lowered, concealing the golden orbs as he stared at her parted lips. “It’s not what, Summer.”

  “Then who?” she whispered.

  He smiled the lopsided smile she found so attractive. “I’m surprised you have to ask.”

  Despite her reluctance, she returned his smile. “But, I have to ask, Gabriel.”

  “Do you really want to know the answer?”

  “Yes, I do,” she said, continuing to play his game.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “You, Summer Montgomery.”

  His admission made her insides throb with an excitement she had never felt before. “How? Why?”

  Gabriel increased the pressure of his groin against her middle, permitting her to feel his swollen flesh. “This is how. Why—I don’t know.”

  Anchoring the heel of her hand under his chin, she pushed up, snapping his head back. Seconds later, he lay on the blanket staring up at her. Summer knew she hadn’t hurt him as much as she had stunned him. “I’ll accept the how, but whenever you find out the why, let me know. Until that time, don’t touch me.”

  Gabriel sprang up, eyes flashing fire as he wrestled her down to the blanket. Her knees were sandwiched in between his, her wrists imprisoned in his stronger grip.

  Burying his face between her neck and shoulder, he pressed his mouth to her ear. “I like you, Summer. A lot,” he growled.

  Everything about Gabriel was a turn-on: his body, voice, smell, and his sensuality that she felt seeping into her veins like a blood transfusion. She could not deny t
he excitement of him wanting to sleep with her. But there was no way she would make it easy for him, because it had never been easy for any man to get her into his bed.

  “I’m not one of your groupies.”

  “I don’t do groupies,” he countered.

  “And I don’t do one-night stands.”

  “Neither do I,” he said, breathing heavily in her ear.

  Gabriel knew if he did not get off Summer he would embarrass himself. The hardness pulsing between his thighs threatened to explode, and what he wanted was to take the woman under him to another dimension with him once he released his passions inside her fragrant body.

  Closing her eyes, Summer shook her head. “No, Gabriel.”

  “No, what?”

  “I can’t. Not now. It’s too soon.”

  He released her wrists and rolled off her body. Lying on his back, he threw an arm over his eyes and waited for his traitorous body to return to a flaccid state. He cursed himself. He had practically forced himself on Summer.

  “I’m sorry.” The apology had come from deep within him.

  Summer saw his tortured expression, and her heart turned over. She resisted the urge to touch him. “There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

  His arm came down and he stared at her with a dumbfounded expression on his handsome face. “You’re not angry with me?”

  She shook her head, smiling “Pissed, yes. Angry, no.”

  “Is there a difference?”

  “For me, yes. And you really don’t want to see me get angry.”

  Gabriel managed a half-smile. “I’ll try and remember that.”

  Extending her hand, Summer smiled. “Let’s walk and talk. I think that’s a lot safer right now than sharing a blanket.”

  He took her hand, stood up, then pulled her gently to her feet. Holding hands, they walked the beach, each lost in their private thoughts.

  Eight

  It was during the return walk that they talked about the concert. “What about costumes?” Gabriel asked. “How authentic do you want them to be?”

  “As authentic as possible. We can always rent them from a store in Boston that specializes in costuming. But first I have to check and see how much money is left in the grant. The head of the business office told me that replacing old and broken instruments has used up more than half the grant’s funding.”

  “Don’t worry about the money, Summer.”

  She gave him a sidelong glance. “Don’t worry?”

  “I’ll take care of the overruns.”

  She stopped. “Are you saying you’re going to pay for it out of your own pocket?”

  “It’s only money, Summer. It’s not much use to me unless I spend it.”

  “That’s easy for you to say.”

  His jaw hardened when he registered her sarcasm. “It’s easy because I have it. What have I done with my money? I’ve purchased property for the first time in my life,” he said, answering his own question. “And I’ve bought a car for the second time in more than a decade. I don’t pay for trips because I use my family’s private jet. I’m not into jewelry, so I don’t own any bling-bling. The same goes for designer clothes. Give me a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and an old pair of running shoes and I’m as happy as a pig in slop.

  “I don’t have a wife or children to support or educate, so I don’t have to share what I’ve earned or inherited with them. Despite what you may have heard or read about me, I’m just an ordinary guy who by accident of birth was born into a wealthy family.”

  Gabriel noticed a momentary look of discomfort cross her face, knowing he had hit a sore spot with Summer because she had accused him of being a snob. He decided to press his attack. “Do you need some money for a personal cause? It’s quite easy for me to go into the house and sign a check for you. All you have to do is fill in the payee and the amount.”

  Summer felt as if she had been backhanded. “You’ve this arrogant thing going on that you need to address.”

  “I don’t know how you define arrogance.”

  Rising on tiptoe, she thrust her face close enough for her to feel his breath feather over her mouth. “Haughty, supercilious and condescending. I’m willing to bet there’s not one iota of humility in you.”

  Crossing his arms over his chest, Gabriel smiled. “Oh, now you want to make a wager?”

  Affecting a similar pose, she angled her head. “Yes.”

  “What are you willing to wager? But, let me warn you that if you run with the big dogs, then you’ll have play by big dog rules.”

  “Get real,” she drawled, rolling her head on her neck. “You a big dog?”

  Gabriel emitted a low growl, then barked loudly in her face, forcing her to take a step back. “Ye-ahh! And I’m the biggest of the dawgs!”

  Recovering quickly, she retorted, “Then, let’s rock and roll, big dawg. What do you intend to wager?”

  “If you lose, then you’ll have to spend a weekend with me. And I get to pick where.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “To do what?”

  “Anything I want to do.”

  Summer threw up a hand. “Oh, hell no! Do I have STUPID written across my forehead?”

  Leaning in closer, Gabriel squinted at her forehead. “No,” he teased, biting back a smile. “But I thought you told me you could hang.”

  “I can.”

  “Then accept my wager.”

  “Not before you hear mine.”

  He nodded. “Let’s hear it.”

  “The grant has set aside monies for two full college scholarships. I want you to match that.”

  “Okay,” he said without hesitating.

  Summer knew she had walked into a trap of her own making the moment he’d agreed to underwrite the cost of the scholarships. She had set the trap, but Gabriel had sprung it.

  She offered him her hand. “You’re on.”

  He shook her hand, then began dancing, his shoulders and hips moving to a silent sensual beat. Summer stared at his gyrations, admiring the fluidity in his hips. He pulled her to his chest and swung her around and around. She followed his strong lead as he hummed a song with a distinctive Latin beat. Curving her left arm around his neck, Summer laid her head on his shoulder as their bodies swayed to a sensual beat with no words.

  “How would you like to go dancing tonight?” he said close to her ear.

  “I’d like that very much.” And she wanted to go, because it had been a long time—too long since she had danced with a man as Summer Montgomery.

  Summer spent the remainder of the morning and early afternoon on the deck outside her bedroom, writing in a small notebook. When tiring, she lay on her side, and fell asleep.

  She wasn’t certain how long she had slept, but when she opened her eyes she found Gabriel sitting on a matching lounger less than three feet away, writing. He had exchanged his white T-shirt for a black tank top. A profusion of thick black chest hair spilled over the neckline of the tank top. And it wasn’t until after she had swallowed to relieve the dryness in her mouth that she realized not only had she been staring at him, but gaping as well. A slight breeze stirred tendrils of hair around his sun-browned face, but it appeared that he hadn’t noticed. He was thoroughly engrossed in his task. He completed the page, ripped it off the pad, and tucked it under his thigh with a stack of others.

  Observing him through lowered lids, Summer saw things about Gabriel she hadn’t noticed: the length of his eyelashes, the sexy sweep of his raven-black eyebrows, the arrogant slant of high cheekbones under brown skin that called to mind an Inca or Mayan warrior. It was in that instant she realized that he had a right to be arrogant because he truly was beautiful—beautiful and talented.

  “Are you getting up, or are you going to lie there and glare at me.”

  Summer sprang up. “I wasn’t glaring at you.”

  Gabriel’s head came up. “Then what were you doing?”

  She met his shimmering golden gaze. “Staring.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Do y
ou like what you see?”

  Her jaw dropped. “Why, you—”

  “Arrogant pig,” Gabriel said, completing her statement. Putting aside the pad, he swung his legs over the lounger. “Give it a rest, beautiful.”

  Closing the distance between them, he sat down and pulled her effortlessly up and over to sit between his legs. His chest was pressed against her back. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss on the nape of her neck.

  “Stop that, Gabriel.” Her voice was a breathless whisper.

  He chuckled. “You don’t sound too convincing, Summer. Are you sure you want me to stop?”

  Closing her eyes, she swallowed back a moan. “Yes.”

  Curving an arm around her waist, he held her. “You’re still not a very good liar.”

  “How can you tell?”

  He smiled, the index and middle finger of his right hand pressed against the side of her neck. “Your pulse is accelerated.”

  It was her turn to smile. “Thanks for the diagnosis Dr. Cole.”

  “You’ve got the wrong Cole. My cousin Tyler is Dr. Cole.”

  Relaxing against his chest, Summer smiled at Gabriel over her shoulder. “What’s his specialty?”

  “Obstetrics and gynecology. And your parents?”

  “Father is an OB-GYN and Mother is a pediatrician.”

  “We have a lot more in common than music.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I have another cousin who plans to become a pediatrician like his father.”

  “But aren’t the Coles known for their business ventures?”

  Gabriel nodded. “It started with my grandfather. He set up a corporation he called ColeDiz International Ltd., and began growing soybeans. Grandpa expanded his produce enterprise when he set up coffee and bananas in Mexico, Costa Rica, Jamaica, Belize and Puerto Rico. He took the profits from these ventures, bought large tracts of land throughout the Caribbean and Central America and built private villas and vacation resorts.”

  Summer digested this information. Because ColeDiz was privately owned, the extent of their wealth was known to only a few. “Are you involved in the family business?”

 

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