by Diana Palmer
"I like that gauzy thing," he remarked minutes later as they walked up the front steps of the gray fieldstone church.
"You can wear it sometimes, if you like," she said teasingly.
His eyes promised retribution. She eased her hand into his, and all the fight went out of him. He smiled at her, and his eyes were warm and possessive.
J.D. paid a lot of attention to the sermon, which was about priorities and forgiveness and grace. He sang the hymns in a rich baritone, and he seemed thoughtful as the benediction was given.
"Mind waiting for me?" he asked as they rose to file out at the end of the service.
She searched his hard face and shook her head. "Not at all."
He left her and went to speak to the minister who was waiting until the rest of the congregation had left. The two men stood talking behind the rows of pews, both solemn, their voices low. Then they shook hands and smiled at each other. J.D. came back and grasped Gabby's hand warmly in his for a minute.
"I'm taking your minister to lunch instead of you," he said with a mischievous smile. "How about getting into something casual and I'll pick you up in a couple of hours?"
She looked hard at him. "Are you all right?" she asked. She was trying to see beyond the fixed smile to something deep and wounded inside him.
He drew in a slow breath and the smile faded. "You frighten me sometimes, Gabby," he said softly. "You see too much."
She couldn't think of any response to that. She touched his hand briefly and watched him walk away.
Something was in the wind, a change. She frowned as she turned toward her apartment, her steps slow and deliberate. She wondered why he was-taking her minister to lunch, if he had something on his conscience.
She changed into jeans and a button-up blue cotton blouse and then paced the floor for the next two hours. Wild thoughts raced through her mind, the wildest one being that J.D. might decide to chuck it all and go in search of First Shirt and Apollo.
It was three hours before he showed up. By then Gabby had consumed half a pot of coffee and chewed two fingernails to the quick. Her nerves were raw, and she actually jumped when the knock came at the door.
She let him in, too shaken to disguise the frightened uncertainty in her wide eyes.
"I thought you'd stood me up." She laughed nervously. "I was just about to give up and start watching a movie on TV. Do you want some coffee, or some cake...?"
He put a finger across her mouth to stop the wild words. His dark eyes looked into hers. "We have to learn to trust each other a little more," he said softly. "And the first thing you need to know about me is that if I ever give my word, it's good for life. I'm not going back to Shirt and the others, Gabby. That's a promise."
Tears burst from her eyes like rain from a storm cloud. She put her face in her hands and walked away.
"I'm sorry," she choked out, hating the fact that she'd given her feelings away.
He didn't say a word. He followed her, and when he
caught up to her, he lifted her gently in his big arms and headed straight for the bedroom.
She had just enough sanity left to realize where they were going. She opened her mouth to protest, and his came down on it, open and moist and tenderly possessive.
"Jacob..." she whispered into his mouth.
He smiled against her trembling lips. "What?"
Her nails bit softly into his shoulders as he laid her down on the crisp white chenille bedspread. "I can't," she whispered.
"Can't what?" He sat down beside her and calmly removed his jacket, vest, and tie and then unbuttoned his shirt while she watched him, spellbound as the hard, heavy muscles came into view under that mat of crisp hair.
"I can't have an affair with you," she said.
He leaned over and began to unfasten the buttons on her blouse. "That's nice."
"Jacob, did you hear me? Will you stop that...!"
He ignored her protests and her frantic efforts to stop his fingers. "Stop what?"
"Undressing me!" she burst out with an hysterical laugh. "Jacob, I'm wearing nothing underneath, for heaven's sake...!"
"So I see," he murmured with a wicked smile, as he opened the blouse and revealed the pink and mauve rise of her breasts.
"Will you listen..." she began breathlessly.
"Shut up, darling." He bent over her and put his open mouth against one breast, letting her feel the texture of his warm lips and his tongue before he moved closer and increased the ardent pressure.
She gasped and arched and then moaned sharply, a high-pitched sound that made him lift his head.
"Did I hurt you?" he asked. "I'm sorry, I thought I was being gentle."
Her fists were clenched beside her head, and her eyes were wide with mingled fear and desire. "You know very well it didn't hurt," she whispered fiercely.
His eyes moved back down to her bareness and he smiled slowly, watching her breasts lift and fall with her quickened breathing. "Lovely, lovely creature," he said under his breath. His fingers traced her rib cage and he held her eyes, watching the recklessness come into them, the deep passion.
Her breath was coming still quicker now, and the tracing of his fingers was driving her mad. She arched her head back into the pillow, lifting her body toward him in a slow, helpless movement.
"Want me to put my mouth there again and make it stop aching?" he whispered.
"Yes," she moaned softly. "Please." She felt the whisper of his warm breath against her skin, felt his hands go under her to slide abrasively against her bare back. He lifted her, and his mouth moved with delicate precision from one taut breast to the other. His face nuzzled her, savored her softness.
Her fingers tangled in his thick, cool hair and worked at it like a cat kneading a blanket. Pleasure washed over her in waves, waves that lifted and twisted her body.
"Jacob," she whispered as his mouth slid over hers and down to her ear, while his hands made magic on her
upthrust breasts. "Jacob, teach me how to make you feel this way."
"I already do," he murmured at her ear. 'Touching you like this, kissing you, makes me wild, didn't you know?"
"Really?"
He lifted his head. "Really." He rolled onto his back and eased her down over him, smiling lazily as he studied her rapt face, as his eyes wandered to where her breasts were crushed softly against his hard, hair-matted chest. His hands unfastened her hair and arranged it over her shoulders, his eyes heavy-lidded and steady as they wandered over her body.
She watched his face and moved. Just a little. Just enough to let him feel the texture of her body.
"Is that an invitation?" he asked quietly, watching her.
Her breath caught in her throat. Was it, indeed? She searched his hard face with awe and love in every line of her own. Her fingers twined in his thick hair, and she could feel his heartbeat under her.
His hands smoothed over her back. He shifted her body this time, softly rubbing her breasts against the mat of hair on his chest. He heard her catch her breath as she bent her forehead to rest it on his.
His hands shifted, so that his thumbs could tease the hard peaks of her breasts. "I ache with wanting you," he said quietly. "Shall I let you feel how much?"
"You started it," she reminded him, nuzzling her forehead against his. She moved suddenly, so that the whole soft length of her body pressed down over him, and she knew then that she wasn't going to stop him.
"Hold me like this," she whispered as she bent to put her mouth over his. "Hold me hard, Jacob."
His big hands spread at the base of her spine, moving her in a sweet, tender rotation against his hips, and he moaned deeply.
"I won't stop you this time," she whispered over his mouth. "I won't stop you, Jacob, I won't..." Her hands slid between them, into the thick cloud of hair over his chest. "Jacob...!"
"Tell me.. .why," he managed to say in a tortured voice.
"You know," she breathed, crushing her mouth against his in a frenzy of hunger. Her body
moved against him, she trembled with unleashed desire. And suddenly he rolled her over, covering her with his crushing weight, lifting her up to him while his mouth possessed hers absolutely. She felt the wild, demanding thrust of his tongue and met it with a wild-ness of her own, giving him everything he demanded of her.
"Tell me," he insisted, lifting his head to let his wild eyes gutter down into her own. He shifted, grinding his hips into hers. "Tell me, Gabby!"
"I love you," she said fiercely. Her voice was trembling, but she met his eyes unafraid. "I love you, I love you!"
He seemed to stop breathing. His body was rigid above her, but his eyes were alive, burning, blazing with emotion. His hands moved slowly up her body, over her breasts, to touch her face. His big body shuddered with the effort to control his passion.
"I'm going to die from this," he told her with a faint, harsh smile. And all at once, he rolled away from her
and lay on his stomach. He groaned once, as if he were hurting in unbearable ways. His body stiffened and he clenched the pillow so hard his fingers went white.
"Jacob?" she whispered, sitting up, frightened.
"Don't touch me, baby," he whispered back, his voice tormented.
She sat there watching him, a little nervous and uncertain. He'd forced that reckless admission from her, and then he'd stopped. Why? What did he want?
Slowly his body relaxed and he sighed wearily. "Oh, God, I never thought I'd be able to stop," he murmured. "That was as close as I've ever come to losing control, except for that time at the finca."
Her wide eyes studied the pale face he turned toward her. "That morning?" she murmured.
He laughed dryly. "That night," he said. "Gabby, it wasn't punishment, there at the last. It was loss of control. I very nearly took you."
Her eyebrows went up. "But you let me think...!"
"I had to," he said. "I was going out of my mind trying to decide how to handle it. In the beginning, I wanted an affair with you. But I couldn't seem to get close enough, or make you see me as a man. Then, when we were in Rome, I'd had all I could stand and I forced the issue." He laughed softly. "My God, it was the end of the rainbow, and I was floating. Until I realized you were a virgin, and I had to rethink it all. I'd decided that I'd have to fire you, and then we went into the jungle and I died a thousand deaths when that terrorist pointed his rifle at you." He rolled over onto his back and caught her fingers in his, holding them to his mouth feverishly. "That was when I
realized what had happened to me. I was like a boy, all raging desire and frustration and fear. I wanted to frighten you off before I was trapped by what I felt for you. Only it backfired. I started to hurt you and went crazy wanting you instead. I can't wait anymore," he added with an apologetic smile, "and after a week from Saturday I won't have to."
"A week from Saturday?" She frowned.
"There were two reasons I took your Reverend Boone to lunch," he said. "The first was to discuss some things I had on my conscience. The second was to arrange a wedding."
She froze; her face was flushed, and her eyes were disbelieving. It was like having every dream she had ever dreamed come true at once.
He sat up, taking both her hands in his. "Gabby, the one thing I can't do is go on living without you," he said matter-of-factly.
"But...but you said you didn't know whether you could settle down."
He rubbed his thumbs over the backs of her hands and sighed. "Yes, I know. And all the while I was wondering how I'd survive if you refused me. I was trying to get a reaction out of you, to see if I'd frightened you so badly that I'd chased you away." His face hardened as he stared at her hands. "I told you once that I was used to taking what I wanted. That ended with you. I couldn't take you. It had to be a mutual wanting."
"It was," she breathed softly. "It is. I love you with all my heart."
He smiled quietly, lifting hungry eyes to hers. "Do you know what I feel for you?"
She lifted her shoulders restlessly. "You want me," she said with a shaky smile. "Maybe you like me a little."
His chest rose and fell heavily and his eyes never left hers. "I've never said the words and meant them before. It's harder than I thought."
She moved close to him and slid her arms under his, pressing her cheek against his broad chest.
His hands hesitated on her back and then slid around her, cherishing, comforting, protective. He sighed, and she felt his breath on her ear.
"I..." He nuzzled his face against her cheek and then her throat. He laid her back on the bed so that he could find her soft breasts and brush them with his lips. His teeth nipped her tenderly, his hands lifted her. With a sound like a rough, low growl, he slid his body alongside hers and kissed her until she moaned and clutched at him.
"I love you," he breathed fiercely, looming over her. His face was so taut with passion that it would have frightened her once. "Worship you, adore you. I'll go down into the dark crying your name, wanting your mouth, your voice. Is that enough?"
Tears welled in her eyes. "Oh, yes, it's enough," she said unsteadily. "But will I be enough for you?"
"Yes," he said simply. "You and the children." He bent to her mouth again. "Reverend Boone said you hadn't joined the church. I thought we'd do it together. The kids are going to need a good foundation to build on, aren't they?"
She hid her face against his throat. "I'll like having your babies," she whispered.
He trembled convulsively. "Say things like that to me, and you'll find yourself wearing scarlet at the wedding. Hush!"
She managed to laugh. "You taught me how." "That isn't all I'll teach you. But not now." He rolled away from her and got to his feet reluctantly, stretching as if his muscles were in torment.
She propped herself on an elbow and smiled at him wistfully. "You've got to be the sexiest man alive," she murmured. "I used to stare at you in the office and wonder what you looked like without your shirt..." "Gabby," he said in a mock threatening tone. She arched her body softly, wanting him, loving him, loving the way his eyes followed her movement with such obvious hunger.
"Jacob," she whispered, lying back so that the blouse slid away from her body and he could see every soft curve. His chest rose and fell sharply. He seemed a little unsteady on his feet.
She loved that vulnerability. She'd never realized before just how much power she had over him, and it was a heady knowledge. With a small, triumphant smile, she held out her arms to him.
"I can't, honey," he whispered. "If I come back down there, I'll take you."
Her body tingled with the very thought of how it would be. She could already picture them, his hair-darkened body crushing her bare pink one down into the mattress, his voice whispering those wildly exciting things while she moaned and wept...
He reached down, and she arched toward him. And
all at once, before she realized what was going on, she was out of the bed, being buttoned back into her blouse.
"And don't try that again," he murmured with a wicked smile. "Hussy."
"But..."
"When we're married," he said firmly, kissing her mouth. "Now let's go look at houses. I drove by two yesterday that looked promising. How do you feel about living on the lake?"
She slid her hand into his as they walked into the living room. "I'll like living anywhere with you," she said with feeling. "I imagine just watching television is going to be an adventure from now on."
He chuckled softly as he opened the door, his eyes narrowing. "You can't imagine the plans I have for the symphony concerts on the educational channel," he remarked with a wicked smile.
She went ahead of him out the door. "Oh, I think I might have some vague idea," she said musingly, glancing over her shoulder. "By the way, what did you do with the crossbow?"
"What crossbow?" he asked grinning.
She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder for an instant. "Do you reckon First Shirt would give me away if we asked him?"
"I imagine he'd be pretty f
lattered," he said. "Want to invite the rest of the gang too?"
"Could we?"
"Sure," he told her. He smiled as they got into the elevator. "Don't look so worried. I won't try to leave with them, I promise."
"No regrets?" she asked softly.
His eyes were wistful for a moment before he sighed and drew her into his arms. "Only," he whispered, bending, "that I waited so long to tell you how I felt."
"So long?"
"Gabby," he said against her mouth, "I fell in love with you two years ago."
She started to speak, but he was kissing her, and the wildness of it made her question go right out of her head.
"You never said anything," she murmured eventually.
"I couldn't," he returned. "You were so young. I felt guilty for wanting you the way I did. But you dated, you seemed so sophisticated sometimes." He touched her hair gently. "I had too many doubts about being able to settle down to make a heavy pass at you. Too, I was afraid you might quit, and I wasn't sure I could stand that." He shrugged his broad shoulders. "It wasn't until that day in the jungle that I knew how much I cared. I spent a miserable weekend trying to convince myself that I could go back to what I was and not miss you. I failed. After that, it was a matter of trying to convince you that I wouldn't be brutal again. You can't imagine how it hurt, when you cringed away from me..."
But she could. The anguish was in his face. She reached up and kissed his closed eyes gently, tenderly. "It wasn't so much a physical fear," she confessed, "as an emotional one. I was afraid you only wanted an affair. And that you'd walk away." She laughed bitterly. "I knew I couldn't survive that. I loved you too much."
"We won't be apart again," he said quietly. "Not ever.
Even when you have the children, I'll be with you every step of the way."
Tears misted her eyes. "I'll like that."
Six DAYS LATER, there was a quiet ceremony in the Methodist church. Gabby, in a street-length white silk dress, walked slowly down the aisle on the arm of a wiry little man in a new gray suit, who looked even more out of place than the other people in the church. A tall black man standing beside J.D. was tugging uncomfortably at his tight collar and tie, and several other awkward-looking men were sitting in the front pew. Gabby noticed Richard Dice and two secretaries who worked in her building casting strange glances at the assembly. Her mother seemed equally perplexed.
