Renegade

by Alers, Rochelle

  “What, Gabriel?”

  “Look over here and see if it’s up.”

  It took her several minutes to discern what the it was, and her face burned with embarrassment. “I… don’t believe you,” she sputtered. “You’ve got a dirty mind.”

  “Yes, I do,” he confirmed, deadpan. “That’s because just looking at you, kissing you, and making love to you makes me hot—as hot as your name. So, don’t blame me for harboring what you call dirty thoughts. I’m a man with what I consider a rather healthy libido. However, what we’ve experienced together has been rather conventional.

  “Then there are a few times when I want to share the unconventional, the unexpected with you. Today is one of those days. So, sit back and relax, Summer. I’m going to take you on a ride I hope you’ll remember for a long time.”

  She did sit back, but something wouldn’t permit her to relax. All of her senses were operating on full alert when Gabriel maneuvered into a driveway leading to one of Boston’s finest hotels. A valet opened the door for her, helping her out, while Gabriel came around to escort her to the entrance.

  The morning and afternoon passed in a blur of activity after they were shown to a suite with views of the city and the harbor. A continental breakfast awaited them, and an hour later a member of the hotel’s staff came and announced it was time for Summer’s scheduled day of beauty.

  A consultant at the hotel’s beauty spa took down all of the information for her vital statistics before she was shown to a dressing room to disrobe. She was massaged and exfoliated, then had fallen asleep for more than an hour after her massage. She was escorted into a steam room for another half hour. A tiny woman who reminded her of Kim Cheung led her to a charming café where she dined on slivers of apples and pears, a narrow wedge of low-fat cheese, and a cup of herbal tea.

  She was shampooed, trimmed, blown-out, curled and waxed to remove superfluous facial and body hair. A manicure and pedicure followed. By this time she was ready to bite into anything that hadn’t moved for more than five minutes.

  It was after five o’clock when she peered into a wall-to-wall mirror to see a face staring back at her she did not recognize. A makeup artist had done her face so skillfully that all she could do was stare numbly. He’d softened her eyes with a blending of shadows in hues of sable, mink, and silver fox. He’d also applied a soft dark brown powder to her waxed eyebrows. The redefined shape of her brows afforded an expression of her appearing slightly surprised. Her cheeks were flushed with a soft raspberry blush and there was only a hint of color on lips that appeared a glossy nude.

  “You like?”

  She smiled at the reflection of the man in the mirror. “Yes, I like.”

  She liked everything: her hair, face, and the feeling of total relaxation she had not felt in years. Her bangs had been trimmed and fell in soft precision over her forehead. A hairstylist had relieved her of two inches of hair, and the result was a flattering blunt-cut style that barely skimmed her shoulders.

  Another woman led her into a dressing room. A classic sheath dress in a shimmering platinum-gray liquid satin hung from a padded hanger. Undergarments in the same pale gray and a pair of darker gray silk covered pumps sat on a nearby table, along with a bottle of her favorite perfume.

  “Come, Madame Cole, I will help you to dress.”

  Summer smiled. It was the first time anyone had called her Madame. And she wanted to tell the woman she was not Mrs. Cole. She would not claim that name until next summer.

  Dots of perfume were applied to her wrists and pulse points before she put on her lacy underwear. The color reminded her of storm clouds. Sheer pale hose followed. She stepped into the dress, staring at her reflection. Sleeveless with a square-cut neckline, its style was similar to the dress she had worn to Alexandra and Merrick’s wedding.

  “Your husband has exquisite taste in women’s clothing, Madame Cole.”

  Summer nodded like someone in a trance. “Yes, he does.”

  She removed the top off a small white box Summer hadn’t noticed before. “Now for your accessories.” The woman held up a single strand of large perfectly matched South Sea pearls. “Please sit down, Madame.”

  Even without putting on the pumps, at five-eight, Summer towered over the diminutive woman. She sat, closing her eyes, feeling the weight of the exquisite baubles resting on her collarbone. A pair of pearl earrings was screwed into her pierced lobes.

  “Here is your purse, Madame.”

  Summer opened her eyes to see her holding a small gray silk-sateen bag from a silver chain. “Thank you.”

  “Samples of your lip color and tiny packets with pre-applied face powder are in the bag.” Summer took the bag. “Your shoes.”

  Summer slipped into the pumps, smiling. They were a perfect fit. Everything she wore was a perfect fit. That explained why the consultant had requested her dress, shoe, bra, and panty size.

  Rising to her feet, she smiled at the dresser. “Thank you so much.”

  The woman returned her smile. “Thank you, and please thank your husband for his generosity.” She glanced at the clock on the wall over the door. “Come, come. He is waiting for you.”

  When Summer had told Gabriel to surprise her, she never thought it would end with her spending a day of being pampered at a hotel spa. Gabriel could surprise her any day and anytime he wanted.

  She was escorted down a carpeted hallway and out a door that led directly into the hotel lobby. Standing only a few feet away was Gabriel, grinning. Summer closed her eyes briefly and returned his grin with a dazzling one of her own.

  He wore an exquisitely tailored charcoal gray double-breasted, single-buttoned wool and silk blend suit. The stark white shirt with a spread collar made his tanned face look even darker. A dark gray silk tie was knotted in an exacting Windsor knot. Her gaze moved with agonizing slowness over the sharp crease in his trousers falling at the precise break over a pair of black wingtip shoes. As her gaze reversed itself, he crossed his arms over his chest and she noticed a pair of simple silver and onyx cuff links in the French cuffs.

  Summer wasn’t certain who moved first, but seconds later she found herself cradled against Gabriel’s broad chest. The scent of his cologne and aftershave weakened her knees, and she clung to him like a drowning swimmer.

  “I love the surprise.”

  Pulling back, he stared at her professionally made-up face. “You look exquisite.”

  She lowered her gaze, charming him with the demure gesture. “Madame Cole says, merci.”

  His lifted his eyebrows in a questioning expression. “Is that what they’ve been calling you?” She nodded. “When I called the hotel to make a reservation the desk clerk must have listed us as Mr. and Mrs. Gabriel Cole.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “Of course not. What bothers me is that I have to wait another eight months before it becomes official.”

  Summer wanted to tell him that she would marry him the next day if she could. Reaching up, her ran her fingertips over his mustache. “Thank you for everything. And you’re right. I’ll remember this ride forever.”

  He kissed her forehead. “Come, sweetheart. I don’t know about you, but I’m starved.” Pulling her hand into the curve of his elbow, he led her toward the elevators. It was when he turned his head she noticed he had replaced his hoops with small diamond studs. Even his hair was shorter. It was still long enough to put into a ponytail, but the blunt-cut ends no longer flowed down his back. If he decided to wear it loose, it would touch his broad shoulders.

  “You look fabulous, Gabriel.”

  He winked at her. “Why, thank you, my love.”

  They entered the elevator car, and Gabriel pushed the button for their floor. “I hope you don’t mind that I requested room service for dinner.”

  “No, I don’t mind.” And she didn’t. Not now. The personal services had relaxed her body and her mind wherein her earlier confrontation with Lucas Shelby had been totally exorcised.


  Gabriel inserted the card key in the slot to their suite, and opened the door. A large bouquet of snowy-white flowers on the table in the entryway, along with a quartet of lit candles provided an esthetic welcome for Summer.

  “How beautiful!”

  Gabriel cupped her elbow. “Come.”

  He led her into the dining area where two white-jacketed waiters stood ready to serve dinner. The table was set with china, stemware and silver. Several candles and a smaller vase filled with an assortment of white flowers served as the centerpiece.

  She was seated, and the next ninety minutes passed in a blur. Summer remembered eating seafood bisque and a crab salad, but not much after her second glass of champagne. The sun had set and the lights of the city shimmered like jewels when the waiters cleared the table and surreptitiously left the suite, as she and Gabriel sat staring at each other.

  “Would you like dessert?”

  She shook her head, her coiffed hair moving fluidly with the gesture. “No, thank you.”

  He pushed a small gold box toward her. She recognized it immediately. The box contained chocolate from Godiva. “I’m allergic to chocolate.”

  “I didn’t know you had food allergies.”

  “Only chocolate.”

  “I’m sorry, Summer.”

  “You had no way of knowing.” She smiled. “I bet it’s a truffle.”

  He stared at her, unblinking. “Why don’t you open it and find out.”

  She picked up the box, untying the elastic band. Her eyes grew wide and filled with tears when she saw the contents. The box fell to the table when she covered her face with trembling fingers.

  Gabriel rounded the table, going down on one knee in front of her. Reaching into the box, he removed a ring and slipped it on the third finger of her left hand.

  His golden eyes sparkled like the precious jewels on Summer’s delicate hand. “Will you marry me, Miss Summer Montgomery?”

  Lowering her head, she pressed her forehead to his. Tears streaked her face as she struggled to bring her fragile emotions under control. All traces of Renegade had fled, leaving only Summer open and vulnerable to the man who had asked her to share his life and his future with him.

  She smiled through her tears. “Yes, Mr. Gabriel Cole. I will marry you.”

  Light from a nearby floor lamp and the flickering candles on the table caught and fired a two-carat brilliant cut diamond ring with a pave diamond band. It was a perfect fit.

  “How did you know my ring size?”

  “The manager at the spa called and told me.”

  “I wondered why they’d asked for my ring size along with my other vital statistics.” She kissed his mouth. “Even though you were quite clever and used a deceptive method, I think I’m going to keep you.”

  He kissed her, his tongue tracing the outline of her mouth. “You better keep me, sweetheart, because we’re in this for the duration.”

  “When do you want to announce the news to our families?”

  “Tomorrow,” he whispered against her mouth. “Because tonight I think we’re going to be too busy celebrating to talk to anyone.”

  Curving her arms around his neck, Summer closed her eyes when Gabriel stood up and carried her through the living room and into their bedroom.

  She lay motionless, eyes closed, as he undressed her, and then himself. It was only when he moved over her that she opened her eyes, her legs, and her heart to let him in.

  Her magical trip ended when she breathed the last sigh of her release into his mouth; she had given Gabriel all of herself, holding nothing back. He, unknowingly, had stripped away her defenses leaving her naked for a pain only he could inflict.

  They slept, arms entwined, bodies joined. They woke at dawn to revive the passion that refused to burn out, and when Summer cried out her awesome climax she knew she was not the same woman who had driven from Whitman to Cotuit seeking the comforting warmth of Gabriel’s love and protection.

  Eighteen

  Gabriel’s phone rang incessantly throughout the day and evening. He had called his parents with the news that Summer had accepted his proposal of marriage, and an hour later congratulatory calls came from Florida, Mississippi, New Mexico, and Brazil.

  Summer also called her grandmother, telling her that she planned to marry her very nice young man the following summer. The sound of Virginia Brown’s sobbing was too much for her, and she hung up. Waiting twenty minutes, she called Gram back. This time grandmother and granddaughter were less emotional. The call ended with Virginia promising she would write her daughter and son-in-law in South Africa with the news that her baby girl was going to become a married woman. Just before she hung up she told Summer it was time her parents acted like parents and come home to reconnect with their daughter.

  Summer went to sit on the porch after her call to St. Louis. A biting wind searched through the fibers of her bulky sweater, chilling her. The daytime temperature was dropping quickly. In five days it would be the end of the month and Halloween, and with the advent of November, winter would descend upon New England.

  She thought about the Halloween Ball that was to be held at the high school. School officials had decided to host the dance to keep the youth off the streets and out of trouble with pranks that sometime resulted in police arrests. At least on school property, they would be monitored.

  The screen door opened and closed with a soft click. Glancing up, she saw Gabriel balancing two mugs filled with a steaming liquid. He smiled at her. “One latté for the pretty lady, and a hot chocolate for her man.”

  He sat down beside her on the love seat, and she leaned into him, sharing his body heat. “It’s getting cold.”

  Gabriel nodded. “This will be my first full winter here.”

  “Does the cold weather bother you?”

  “No. If it gets too cold I’ll turn up the heat or put on another blanket on the bed.” He stared at her enchanting profile. “Were you cold last night?”

  She smiled. “Not with you beside me. You’re like a thermal blanket.”

  “Didn’t I tell you that you make me hot?”

  “Stop it, Gabriel.”

  He peered closely at her. “Are you blushing, baby?”

  She turned her head rather than let him see her expression. “No.”

  The cries of circling seagulls caught their attention. Then a comfortable silence descended as they sipped their beverages.

  Gabriel broke the silence. “Why don’t you move in with me?”

  Summer felt her heart stop, then start up again. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not? You could save money not paying rent.”

  “It’s not about money.” What she wanted to tell him was that she did not pay rent on her apartment. That had become the responsibility of her employer. And she had to be available to Lucas whenever he wanted a face-to-face meeting. She didn’t think Gabriel would appreciate a strange man coming to see her at his home.

  “Then, what is it about?” His voice was soft, non-confrontational.

  “It’s about tradition, Gabriel. Despite the fact I’m sleeping with you before becoming your wife, I’m still a very traditional woman. I believe in dating, falling in love, getting engaged, marrying, and having children in that order. So far, we’re doing all of the right things. Moving in with you would not be the right thing. What I am willing to do is spend some weekends here with you.”

  He curved an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. “You can’t blame me for asking, can you?”

  She smiled up at him. “No.” She regarded him for several seconds. “Have you decided what costume you’re going to wear to the Halloween Ball?”

  “Not really. I have so many black clothes in my wardrobe that I should come as Dracula. All I need is a pair of fangs. What about yourself?”

  Summer shook her head. “I’m drawing a blank, too. I should ask Desiree for a pair of bellbottoms, some love beads and … wait a minute. I just got an idea. Maybe I’ll come as a sixties r
adical: Afro, dashiki, platform shoes and a peace medallion around my neck.” She made a V sign with her first and second finger. “Peace out, my brother.”

  Gabriel chuckled. “Why don’t you go as Tina Turner. After all, you did “You Better Be Good to Me” as well as or better than Tina herself.”

  “Then, that’s it. I’ll be Tina. What about you?”

  “I’m leaning toward Jimi Hendrix, but I doubt if the kids will know who he was.”

  “I disagree,” Summer argued. “Look at Robyn Phillips singing Aretha’s songs. The girl’s only sixteen, yet she knew the words to “Do Right Woman, Do Right Man.” And where do you think she was first exposed to Aretha? It had to be at home. These kids know more than just rap and hip-hop.”

  “You’re right. I grew up listening to my parents’ music, even though I thought it was lame at the time.”

  “You know that everything that’s old is new again. Especially with hip-hop artists sampling old songs and melodies.”

  Summer and Gabriel sat on the porch talking about music and performers until a frigid wind coming off the water made them retreat indoors. They went into the family room, lit a fire in the fireplace, lay on the rug and talked about what they wanted for themselves and the children they hoped to have.

  A large silver ball, suspended from the ceiling in the gymnasium reflected the many colors of flashing lights. Hundreds of orange and black helium-filled balloons were cradled in a net next to the rotating ball. At exactly eleven o’clock the balloons would be released from the net, signaling the end of Weir Memorial’s first annual Halloween Ball.

  Summer arrived with Gabriel, having had to endure his ribald comments about her legs in a short skirt and four-inch heels. The moment she put on a frosted-blond wig she had become Tina.

  Gabriel had become a reincarnation of Jimi once he donned a fringed vest, black hip-hugging leather pants, boots, colorful beads, and a tie-dyed T-shirt. Summer had styled his hair with her fingers after he had washed it. Thick waves gave his hair the body she needed to make it stand up in a modified Afro hairdo.

  Faculty and staff were instructed to arrive at seven, an hour before the students, for a briefing. Dumas Gellis had met with school security to remind them that only Weir students were permitted admission, and that bags would be searched and anything alcoholic would be confiscated. Caterers would serve food and nonalcoholic drinks.