by Sandra Cox
She unlocked the door and walked in, closing it behind her. “Becka, I’m home,” she called.
A slender young black woman with soft latte-colored skin in burgundy lace boxers and a matching chemise came running out of the bedroom, tousled with sleep. She was a full head taller than ”Suzy” as Lai called herself.
She opened her arms wide. “Darling, you’re home,” and kissed Lai full on the mouth.
* * * * *
Gabby stood tapping her toes, her arms crossed.
“There are some places that I’m going that I will not take you. It wouldn’t be safe.” They stood inside the library where the walls were lined from ceiling to floor with books. Filtered light reflected off the bookcases, the wood glowing with years of loving care.
Christopher and Gabby stood nose to nose. “I knew it. I knew it,” she bit out, her teeth snapping with each word. “You took the globe and you are trying to cover it up. You’ll take off and I’ll never see you or the globe again.”
He slid his arm around her and his voice dropped to an intimate level. She could feel the heat of his bare arm through her thin cotton tank. “And would that bother you, Gabriella love?”
It took every ounce of willpower Gabby had, especially when he said her name in that low, whisky-smooth voice, but she managed to push his hand away. “It would certainly bother me not to see my globe again.”
“I’ll tell you what, you can hold Aunt Tam hostage until I return. If I don’t come back she’s yours.”
She stared at his thin aristocratic face then let her eyes slide over his whipcord lean body. He was dressed in his usual fare, a white polo shirt and khaki shorts and wearing leather boaters with no socks. “You just refuse to take this seriously don’t you?”
His arms dropped to his side. “Now there, darling, you are wrong. “I take it very seriously.”
“Prove it. Take me with you.”
Christopher sighed heavily. “You have the tenacity of a bulldog and about as much upstairs.”
Ned barked.
Christopher ruffled his fur. “No insult meant. I said bulldog.” He turned back to Gabby. “You don’t even know where I’m going.”
She could feel her features set like the canine previously mentioned. “It doesn’t matter.”
Christopher closed his eyes and moved his lips. Gabby could read them, one, two, three, four. He stopped at eight.
“Of course it matters, Gabriella. There are countries where a woman like you,” his eyes turned cool and he looked her up and down in an assessing manner, lingering on her breasts, thighs and hips, “could be bought and sold in a heartbeat.”
Gabby shivered. Not so much from his words but the coldness of his face. He looked like a stranger, a terrifying stranger. His body had the tense expectant look of a dangerous predator ready to strike.
Gabby stuck her chin in the air. It had a tendency to wobble and her voice to shake as she said, “You don’t scare me.”
He looked at her for a long moment, shook his head and gave a short laugh. “Ms Bell, you are magnificent, even in your wrong-headedness.”
Gabby chewed her lip. At least, the coldness she feared had left his body. “I don’t care for the wrong-headedness but the magnificent sounds encouraging. Will you take me with you?”
“No.”
Gabby tried again. “Will you tell me where you are going?”
“Do I have your promise not to follow me?”
“No.”
Christopher rubbed his chin with his fingers and thumb, his look speculative. “Where does that leave us?”
“You do your investigation, I’ll do mine.” Since I’m not completely convinced you don’t have the globe. Gabby didn’t actually say that but her eyes were a dead giveaway.
Christopher walked to the desk and picked up the phone and dialed.
Gabby gave him a suspicious look. “What are you doing?”
“Information? Springfield. I’d like the number for the Springfield Police Department.”
Gabby was across the room in three quick strides, her feet skimming the beautiful oriental carpet. She clicked down the receiver. “All right you win. I won’t try to follow you.”
“How do I know you’ll keep your word?”
“I said so didn’t I?”
“You’ll have to do better than that, Bell.”
She gave him a look of honest bewilderment. “Maybe you should take a leap of faith.”
“You don’t trust me and I don’t trust you. A leap of faith could drop one of us into an abyss.”
“We seem to be at a standoff.”
“Do you still think I took your globe?”
Gabby studied him. For some reason the answer seemed to matter to him. “You’d do anything for Aunt Tam.”
“How do you know that?”
Gabby gave him a startled look. “It’s true isn’t it?”
He grinned. His features relaxed. “Pretty much.”
She stuck her chin in the air. “So did you take it?”
He took her hand. The contact was warm and comforting. “No, Gabriella, I didn’t.”
“How do I know that?”
His voice was persuasive, gentle. “How about that leap of faith you were talking about. You’re a reporter. What does your gut tell you?”
Their eyes met and held. “That you are telling me the truth. But I don’t know if it’s my gut or my heart telling me that.” The words were torn from her.
He brought her hand to his lips, kissed her palm and closed her fingers around the kiss. “I find that encouraging.”
She knew her eyes were as wary as a doe’s, but she held onto his kiss. Suddenly, he wrapped her in his arms. “Marry me, Gabriella. I plight you my troth.” He whispered in her ear, “And, when at length in that strange ecstasy The heavy sigh will start There rains upon my heart A love so pure and fine That I say, Lady, I am wholly thine.”
Her eyes closed and she clung to him limply. “Did you always quote poetry to women?”
“No. Yes. No more lies. With other women I quote it, with you I feel it.” His gaze intensified. “You’ve made my blood run hot since the first moment you tumbled into my arms in the rain outside Earth Religions. We were at odds then and we’ve been at odds ever since. “
Her skin quivered as he ran his warm fingers up and down her arms.
“Maybe we could change that.”
His husky voice made her knees weak. She stepped back and began to rub the sluggish throb at her temples. At least the throbbing doesn’t metamorphize into a full-blown migraine these days when I think about the past and him. That’s an improvement.
Christopher loosened his arms but didn’t let go.
“I went in and saw the globe.” She looked at him and moved away then began to walk around the room. She turned toward him. “I saw your face. It was the cold face of a stranger.”
She paced between the fireplace and the window on the far wall.
Ned sat watching her, whining softly.
She turned and whispered. “You stole the globe from me.”
He stood very still, watchful. “Yes, I did.”
No excuse, no apologies, just a simple “Yes I did”. She looked at him. “For Tam.”
He didn’t answer just stood waiting, ever watchful, as if he were trying to follow the complex workings of her mind.
She gave a half laugh, half sob. “Who are you? What are you?”
“You know who I am.” His voice was even, but it held a raw quality. And his breathing was faster than normal.
She stopped her pacing and looked at him. “My father thinks you are a thief.”
“If what you said the night of the mask ball was anything to go by so do you.”
Gabby laughed, a sound without humor. “Don’t do that, Christopher.”
“I believe I’d rather answer who I am. I’m the adopted son of Tamara and Edward James.”
Her head tilted and her hair fell on her right shoulder, brushing her brea
st. “And your parents were? Tam’s or Edward’s family? Brother or sister?”
“I have never told this to anyone, but I freely give you the information.”
It didn’t sound freely to Gabriella. It sounded torn from his soul.
“I have no idea who my parents were. For all I know my mother was a Calcutta harlot.” He winced when he said it. “Even if it’s true, I shouldn’t have said it. It’s like a betrayal to her.” He fingered his tiger ring. “Even if she left me, she loved me.”
Gabby felt her heartache with sympathy. She reached out her hand, but he had already turned away.
He gave a harsh laugh. “Your father was entirely correct. I was a thief before the age of seven. I lived off the streets and stole to survive.”
“Oh, Christopher,” she whispered. Poor little boy.
He whirled, his eyes snapping. “Don’t pity me. I neither need it or want it.” He shrugged visibly notching down the intensity. “That’s how the Jameses found me,” he continued. “I lifted Aunt Tam’s purse, but wasn’t fast enough to escape.” He gave a rare grin. “Uncle Edward was an excellent athlete.”
Gabby blinked as understanding broke through. “You are going to Calcutta.”
He didn’t answer. It was all the confirmation Gabby needed.
“But why?”
“It began in Calcutta. Maybe the answers lie there. Lai must be stopped once and for all.”
She didn’t like it. Not one little bit. But her emotions were on overload. She couldn’t, wouldn’t push him any further.
“Christopher, about the engagement thing…” Her voice trailed off.
He went to her and kissed her lightly on the cheek. He slipped his hand into his pants pocket where the engagement ring sat comfortably in its box.
“I think you’ve had about all the emotion you can handle for one day. Think about it while I’m in Calcutta, it will give you some space.” He drew her to him and held her lightly in his arms. “I love you, Gabriella and I’ve never said that to any other woman except to Aunt Tam and my mother. And I know you love me.” She started to object but he laid a finger on her lips. “I’m just not sure whether you know it or not.”
“You are awfully sure of yourself,” she retorted.
He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve given up fighting my fate. The first time you saw my face in the globe, I thought—well I thought a lot of things, none of them complimentary.”
She gave an indignant gasp.
“But somewhere between sightings numbers two and four, I became a believer.” He’d always scoffed at the old legends. Never to Tamara’s face mind you. He loved her too much for that. But he’d never really believed all that nonsense, until now.
“So, its not that you are in love with me, it’s just that you believe some stupid superstition.” She puffed up like a porcupine, her voice huffy.
He laughed softly in her hair. “Oh, girl, I love you all right. It’s pretty self-evident,” and pressed her against his arousal.
“That’s just desire,” she said in a weak voice, her eyes closed and her head thrown back, leaving her long slender neck at an inviting slant.
Giving in to the temptation, he pressed his lips against her warm neck and felt her pulse quicken. “Just desire?” he whispered against it.
She nodded, her eyes still closed, her golden hair cascading down her back.
He ran his fingers through it. “Darling temptress, if this was just desire, it would be enough. But I’m afraid it has gone way past that. I’m enamored, besotted, obsessed.”
“You are?” she asked weakly, snuggling against him.
“I am.”
“You just want my globe.”
“You don’t have it remember,” he pointed out.
“So I don’t. Are you trying to seduce me then?”
“What an enticing thought. Meet me in the gazebo at midnight.”
She ran her hands down to his hips and cupped them. “What’s wrong with now?” her voice sultry.
“Hussy. You must wait for your pleasure.”
“Why?” she pouted.
“If Aunt Tam or Beatrice were to walk in, I’d never be able to look them in the eye again.”
“If we were engaged, like you told John Paul, I’d be wearing a ring,” she replied, her eyes bold, the words out of her mouth before her brain had an opportunity to filter them.
“I thought we were going to wait on this conversation until after I got back from Calcutta.”
“Maybe I changed my mind.” Her eyes were filled with promises, promises of ecstasy and languid sexual pleasure.
“Don’t look at me like that, my girl, or I’ll forget about propriety and take you here and now as if I were a fat sultan and you my favorite, voluptuous harem girl.”
“Christopher!” she giggled.
He heaved a pained sigh and pushed her gently away. “Until tonight.” Christopher raised her hand and kissed her fingertips and walked quickly out of the library before all common sense fled.
He nearly tripped over Jericho, sitting on the other side of the door swishing his tail.
Christopher looked down into unblinking blue eyes surrounded by chocolate-colored fur. “I wondered where you were. Your mistress and mine,” he gave the cat a sly smile, “is inside.”
In the hall, despite it being her day off, Beatrice was dusting a gleaming mahogany table. Tamara stood beside her studying a picture of an old plantation, with a little black boy running down a dirt road.
Christopher gave his aunt a hug and a hearty buss then did the same for Beatrice. “Gabby is back.”
“Really, dear? How nice. Did you hear that, Beatrice? Gabriella is back.”
“Yes’m I sure did.”
Christopher grinned. “You two old fakes. You knew it all along.” Whistling he went on his way.
Tamara grabbed Beatrice’s hand and squeezed.
“Do you think, Ms. Tamara, our boy is finally going to be settling down and getting married?”
Tamara winked. “I predict, before the year is out there will be a bun in the oven.”
“Miz. Tamara!”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Gabby stole down the steps. The old house creaked and the grandfather clock struck midnight.
Making no sound, she let herself into the solarium. The lush smell of vanilla and roses filled her head. She twisted and turned ’til she found the gazebo.
Christopher stood waiting. She knew he would be. Chilled goblets of champagne sat at a small table along with a small blue velvet box.
He handed her a glass of bubbly gold liquid. Her senses heightened, she felt the wet cool condensation of the crystal against her fingertips. They drank without taking their eyes off one another. Moonlight filtered in through the glass ceiling.
Christopher took her glass and sat it down then held open his arms. She glided into them and knew she had come home.
They made love on the blue velvet divan, sweet and tender. As soon as they caught their breath, they made love again, wild and tempestuous.
She lay in his arms, sated and content. He reached for her finger and slipped a ring on. It felt as if it belonged. “I’m leaving in an hour.”
Gabby struggled to set up. He pushed her gently back down. “Don’t say anything. Don’t look at the ring now. If you are wearing it when I come back, I’ll know this isn’t some fantastic dream. If you aren’t…” He shrugged his shoulders in the darkness. He slipped into his clothes while he talked to her. “Take care of Aunt Tam for me and tell her I’ll be back soon.” And then he was gone, leaving her alone in the dark.
She fingered the unusual contours of the ring he had slipped on her finger. Smooth and round encircled by stones of a different texture. “I love you, Christopher,” she whispered to the night and knew it to be true.
She picked up the fluted crystal that Christopher had drunk from, drained the remains of the champagne and crept back upstairs.
Gabby opened her door and nearly got knocke
d down by the two detainees. She flipped on her light and explained to the irate creatures. “I’m afraid you would have turned my romantic rendezvous into a farce. I’ve never met anyone at midnight before.”
She hugged herself. It had been romantic. She glanced down at her ring. Her eyes widened and she sank to the floor only to have her face covered with wet doggy kisses. “Oh Christopher,” she whispered as she stared at the ring. She could feel tears form at the corner of her eyes and slide down her cheeks. “Hidden beneath that sneering exterior beats the heart of a romantic.”
It was a perfect round emerald, at least five carats. A miniature of the globe encircled by a ring of diamonds. He had done this for her.
Jericho jumped to the desk top and batted at the desk phone, knocking the handle off its base. The phone made an angry buzzing sound. Jericho stared at it, his tail twitching.
“Bad cat.” Her voice carried no conviction. As Gabby laid the handle back in its cradle she noticed the message light blinking.
She hit intercom then the play button. Walking toward the bed, she paused as Christopher’s voice came over the speaker. “And now, my witch, you shall have your crystal ball wherever you go.”
“Fool.” But found it impossible to bite back her smile of pure happiness.
On an impulse she walked back to the phone, picked it up and dialed. It rang once and was immediately picked up. “Bell, here.”
“Daddy…”
The voice on the other end sharpened. Gabby could picture her father setting up in bed, his gray streaked hair tousled. “Gabriella! Are you all right?”
Gabby pulled her hair back from her face. “I’m wonderful, Daddy. I wanted you to be the first to know. Christopher and I are getting married.”
“Gabriella Josephine Bell, I absolutely forbid it,” his voice roared across the phone line.
Gabby sank into the chair by the little white French desk. “Daddy, please, be happy for me.”
“Gabby,” her father sounded desperate, “he’s an associate of one of the biggest jewel thieves in the country.”
That was one teeny, tiny thing she’d managed not to think about, used the migraines in fact to keep that particular thought at bay. Cat burglar. Jewel thief. The Tiger. “Christopher,” she whispered, unaware she’d spoken. She held the phone with both hands to keep from dropping it.
