The Getaway Bride Read online

  She heard him swallow, saw the new tension that gripped him. She rested her hands on his shoulders and leaned into him, remembering the first time he’d held her. She’d been so struck by his size, his strength, the warmth that had radiated from him. She remembered wishing that she could stay forever within the safe circle of those strong arms.

  “I’ve missed you,” he admitted, his voice hoarse. “Sometimes I thought I would go insane...”

  “Will you come to bed with me, Gabe?” she asked, and it took all her courage to say the words. “Will you make love with me?”

  If only one last time, she added silently, refusing to allow herself to hope beyond this night.

  He went rigid against her, as though fighting emotions that flooded through him in response to her request. She didn’t know whether he’d won or lost the inner battle when he gathered her into his arms and moved toward the bed without speaking.

  She’d thought they would make love in the darkness. Gabe lay her on the bed and reached out to snap on the bedside lamp.

  “I’ve been dreaming about this for too damned long,” Gabe muttered in answer to the question in her eyes. “This time I need to know it’s real.”

  She blinked away a sudden film of tears and held out her arms to him.

  He swept the gray fleece pants down her legs and tossed them aside, got rid of the socks, then reached for the hem of her black T-shirt. Blushing, but willing, she helped him, leaving her clad only in cotton panties and a thin gold chain.

  Gabe froze, staring at the small gold ring that dangled from that chain.

  The ring that matched the one he still wore on his left hand. The ring he had bought for her, and had placed on her finger as he’d vowed to love her for the rest of his life.

  His hand closed unsteadily around the ring. “You’re wearing this wrong.”

  She moistened her lips. “I know.”

  He slid the chain over her head, removed the ring and lifted her left hand. She was trembling when he pushed the band onto her finger, his gaze holding hers captive. He tossed the gold chain carelessly onto the nightstand.

  He didn’t give her a chance to say anything—not that she would have known what to say if he had. He took her into his arms and crushed her mouth beneath his.

  Gabe seemed determined to relearn every inch of her, as though comparing reality to the memory he’d carried of her. He tasted her throat, nuzzled behind her ears, nibbled at her shoulders, lingered at her breasts until her toes curled into the sheets and her fingers clenched spasmodically in his hair. He nipped at her tummy, stroked her thighs, tickled behind her knees, kissed her toes.

  And then he removed her panties and devoted his attentions to other, more intimate areas:

  Page was shuddering, gasping, aching with a hunger that threatened to consume her from the inside out How many nights had she fantasized about this? About being with Gabe again, holding him, loving him. Being loved in return.

  “Gabe,” she managed to plead, her voice hardly recognizable. “Gabe, please.”

  His face was darkly flushed, his eyes glinting with near-feral desire. “I’m trying to make this last,” he grated. “It’s been so damned long, I’m ready to explode.”

  She looked at him uncertainly. Surely he didn’t mean...?

  “There’s been no one else,” he said, uncannily reading her thoughts again. “You should know by now that I didn’t take my marriage vows lightly.”

  She was finally beginning to understand exactly how seriously Gabe had taken those vows. Seriously enough to search for her for two and a half years. Seriously enough to spend who-knew-how-much on private investigators. Enough to put his personal life on hold until he found her again. Enough to risk his very safety now to help her out of the mess she’d somehow gotten into.

  She was both awed and dismayed by the depth of his commitment. She could see now that she’d underestimated the passionate young man she’d married.

  She’d learned the hard way not to do so with the stubborn, angry, determined man he’d become.

  For the first time, she wondered if she had made a tragic mistake by running away from him on that traumatic afternoon. If she had stayed—if she had told him the truth—could they have faced the danger together? Would he have been in any more danger if he’d known the truth than he had been since she’d left?

  It broke her heart to think that the sacrifices she’d made for him, the pain she’d caused them both, had been unnecessary. It had been so much less painful to tell herself that she’d had no other choice.

  “Gabe, I—”

  He placed a finger over her mouth. “Not now,” he muttered. “We’ll talk later.”

  “Yes,” she said with a sigh, sliding her arms around his neck. “Later.”

  He thrust into her and she arched upward with a strangled cry of pleasure and discomfort. It had been a long time...and her experience prior to that had been limited to the three glorious weeks she’d spent as Gabe’s wife. And then the pleasure took over, and the discomfort was forgotten. She and Gabe were together again, so tightly joined that it seemed that nothing could rip them apart. She couldn’t ask for anything more at this moment.

  As Gabe had warned her, he climaxed quickly. But he made sure that Page found her own satisfaction only moments later. Shuddering in mindless fulfillment, she sobbed his name, holding him as though she would never let him go again.

  When they’d recovered enough to move, he tugged her into his arms and settled her a bit roughly against his shoulder.

  “Sleep,” he said, his voice gruff with emotion and exhaustion. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

  Knowing she was a coward to be so relieved by the delay, she only nodded and allowed herself to go limp against him. He reached out to turn off the lamp.

  Judging from the sound of his breathing, Gabe went to sleep almost immediately. Page lay awake a few minutes longer, wondering about what had just happened, worrying about the future, dreading the daylight and the problems it would bring. Savoring the pleasure of lying beside him again.

  It occurred to her that Gabe had never made love to her before without telling her he loved her. He hadn’t said the words this time. Fingering the ring he’d insisted she wear on her left hand, she couldn’t help but question the very mixed signals he’d been sending her since he’d found her.

  What did Gabe feel for her now? Other than desire, of course. She couldn’t begin to read him.

  She only knew that her feelings for him hadn’t faded during the time she’d been away from him. If anything, she had fallen even more desperately in love with the man who now held her—and her heart—captive.

  GABE WOKE a couple of hours later. Page was still sleeping, her auburn hair tumbled around her face.

  He tried to concentrate on that unfamiliar color, tried to remind himself that this wasn’t the woman he’d married. But despite his best efforts to protect himself from being hurt by her again, his stubborn heart refused to accept that she was a stranger. She was his wife. The woman he had loved from the day he’d met her.

  Despite everything that had happened, he knew he still loved her. And he always would.

  He wondered bleakly what price he would pay this time for acknowledging that love. If he lost her again now, he believed it just might destroy him.

  Watching her sleep, he warned himself that Page was still wary of letting him close to her, still too deeply afraid to fully trust him to help her solve her problems. So, for now, they had to concentrate on finding the man who’d been stalking her, making sure that he never posed a threat to her or to anyone she loved again.

  Only then would they be able to concentrate on themselves. Only then could they talk about forgiving, forgetting, and somehow forging ahead,

  9

  PAGE WOKE ALONE in the bed. Disoriented for a moment, she blinked and tried to remember where she was, why she was lying nude beneath a rough white sheet, why her body felt sore and wonderful, all at the same time. She pushed
a strand of hair out of her eyes with her left hand, and her attention was caught by the gleam of gold on her finger.

  Swallowing hard, she lifted her head from the pillow, looking for Gabe. The bathroom door stood open, revealing an empty room. The door that led into the living room was closed. She wondered how long she’d been asleep.

  Draping the sheet around her, she padded into the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, she felt somewhat prepared to face Gabe. She’d had a quick shower, brushed her teeth, and dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved red knit top. She combed her fingers through her hair and left it to dry naturally, and didn’t bother with makeup. She didn’t want Gabe to think she’d taken any special pains with her appearance today.

  She’d left her watch on the nightstand. As she strapped it on, she looked at the thin gold chain Gabe had tossed beside it. She glanced at the ring on her hand, but left it in place, leaving the chain on the nightstand. Gabe apparently wanted her to wear the ring, at least for now. So—for how—she would wear it.

  She was all too aware that their lovemaking, spectacular as it had been, had changed nothing. She would still leave him if she thought there was no other way to protect him. And he still resented her for leaving him before.

  She found Gabe in the kitchen a few moments later. The scent of fresh-brewed coffee made her mouth water.

  “I thought you might be hungry,” he said, turning from the stove.

  Self-conscious, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “A bit,” she said, her voice sounding odd even to her. “What do we have?”

  “Not much,” he admitted. “Whoever stocked the place just threw in some basics. Eggs, milk, butter, bread, meat, cheese.”

  “Who does this place belong to, anyway? Why are the windows boarded up, but the electricity on? Who brought in fresh food?”

  Gabe shrugged. “I don’t know. Blake arranged it all somehow. Only a few hours after I agreed that we should, um, detain you for questioning, he had this place lined up and ready.”

  “‘Detain me for questioning’?” Page repeated, her tone wry. “That’s an interesting way to define a kidnapping.”

  Gabe set a carton of eggs on the counter and closed the refrigerator door. And then he turned to Page, his expression uncharacteristically hesitant.

  “I’m sorry if you were frightened,” he said quietly. “I didn’t know what else to do to find out what was going on with you. Blake assured me he wouldn’t hurt you. He didn’t, did he?”

  “No,” she admitted, shrugging off the momentary discomfort caused by the prick of the needle in her arm. “He was quite considerate, on the whole. Very efficient—as though kidnapping women was something he did often. Where did you find that guy, anyway?”

  “He was recommended by the investigator I’d hired prior to him. The last guy couldn’t get anywhere on the case, and he could tell I was getting frustrated with him. He gave me Blake’s name and number. Apparently, Blake is well known in the industry.”

  “What’s Blake’s last name?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Page blinked in surprise. “You hired a guy without asking his last name?”

  Looking a bit sheepish, Gabe cleared his throat. “He didn’t seem to think it necessary. I could tell from the first that he was good. And he said if he didn’t find you, he wouldn’t charge me anything. That was becoming important, since I’d spent so much on the other guys already.”

  Page fought down a wave of guilt. She had no idea that Gabe would go to so much expense looking for her.

  It occurred to her again that she had gravely misjudged her husband.

  “Did you know he investigated you?” she asked, trying to redirect her thoughts.

  Gabe’s smile was crooked, revealing just a glimpse of that intriguing dimple in his left cheek. “I heard. That’s when I knew I’d finally hired the right guy. He let nothing escape him.”

  “How did he find me in Des Moines?”

  “I don’t know. He doesn’t believe in explanations—only in results.”

  Page shook her head. “He seems a little spooky.”

  Gabe chuckled. “That’s one word to describe him, I guess. And yet—I sort of like him.”

  Page wrinkled her nose and sighed. “Unfortunately, I sort of do, too.”

  “I think he can help us, Page.”

  Us. The word made a funny little quiver go through her middle. She’d thought of herself as alone against the world for so long that she was still having a hard time adjusting to the knowledge that there was someone—two “someones,” actually—on her side now.

  “I thought Detective Pratt could help me,” she said, forcing herself to hold on to the pessimism that had propelled her for so long. “Look what happened to him.”

  “Blake will be better prepared. He’s more aware of what he’s up against.”

  And if Blake did somehow manage to bring an end to this? Then what? Did Gabe imagine that they could simply go back to where they’d left off?

  Page didn’t have the courage to ask. Or even to contemplate the future. She would concentrate, instead, on getting through another day, alone with Gabe.

  “I’ll scramble some eggs,” she said abruptly, brushing past him without meeting his eyes. “Why don’t you pour us some coffee?”

  GABE WASN’T SURE how to read Page this morning. She’d made their breakfast, served it and eaten it with only a minimum of conversation. She seemed to be avoiding his eyes, and yet he sensed that she watched him closely when she thought he wasn’t looking. Her hand wasn’t quite steady when she lifted her coffee mug to her lips.

  It felt very much like an awkward “morning after.” Which was ridiculous, considering that this woman was his wife, Gabe thought grumpily, eyeing the gold ring he’d replaced on her left hand last night.

  He was relieved she hadn’t taken it off. He would have insisted that she put it back on again. The rings they wore were a physical reminder of the promises they’d once made, the unbreakable partnership they’d forged. And Gabe didn’t intend for Page to forget those promises again.

  He wanted very badly to take her into his arms right now, to remind her forcibly of the strong bonds between them—legal, physical and emotional bonds. Remembering the way she’d responded to him in bed, he suspected that she wouldn’t resist him, or deny that the bonds were still there, still binding.

  But he knew they couldn’t fully concentrate on their feelings for each other as long as there was a chance that they were in danger from the lunatic who had driven them apart. And so, he forced himself to keep the distracting emotions suppressed—at least for now.

  “I have to check in at the office,” he said when the dishes had been cleaned and put away. “I left a couple of things hanging when I took off Friday afternoon.”

  “Your business is doing well?” she asked a bit too casually.

  He couldn’t keep a hint of pride out of his voice. “Very well,” he said. “I’ve got four crews working now, and enough jobs lined up to keep them busy for some time. And there are five full-time employees working in the office.”

  He didn’t add that the business could have grown even more had he not spent so much effort and so much money hunting for her. As it was, he’d spent long hours at work, often making his calls about Page from the office. Even if he’d wanted a normal social life, there wouldn’t have been time between his commitment to his business and his obsession with finding Page.

  He’d spent more than a few nights sleeping on the couch in his office. Sometimes because he’d just been too tired to drive home. Many times because he simply hadn’t been able to face going home alone again.

  “I’m happy for you,” Page said, looking at him fully for the first time all morning. “I know it was your dream to make your construction business successful.”

  “It was our dream for a while.” He couldn’t resist pointing that out.

  She bit her lip. “Yes,” she said after a moment. “It was.”

  They stoo
d for a moment looking at each other, memories hovering in the air between them. An undercurrent of grief swirled around them. Regrets. Unspoken wishes.

  Gabe broke the spell by turning abruptly and stalking into the living room where he’d left the cellular phone.

  He made his calls quickly. Without giving details, he told his secretary that he would probably be out of the office for the rest of the week and that she was to call him on his cell phone only in case of emergency. He would be checking in several times a day, he added.

  “Your mother called this morning, Gabe,” the secretary, Angela, informed him. “She wanted to know where you are, in case she needs to reach you.”

  Gabe exhaled and pinched the skin above his nose.

  He wasn’t quite ready to tell his family that he’d found Page. Especially since he had no idea at this point whether she’d be with him when he returned.

  “Tell her I’m going to be tied up for a few days but I’ll give her a call when I can,” he said inadequately.

  His mother would give him hell when she found out what he’d been up to, of course, but he would deal with that when the time came. He could only handle one difficult woman at a time, he thought as Page wandered into the room.

  He set the phone aside. “Blake should be checking in soon.”

  Page perched on the edge of a chair. “And what do we do in the meantime?”

  “We wait.”

  She twisted her fingers in her lap. “Oh.”

  The photographs were still lying on the coffee table. Needing something to do, Gabe reached out to put them back in the manila envelope in which Page had kept them. The shot of him leaving a restaurant with the attractive brunette was on top of the stack.

  He looked up and met Page’s eyes.

  Gabe cleared his throat “This, er, this was taken last year. It was a dinner date my sister coerced me into. I’d been working pretty hard, not taking much time off, and Annie thought it would be good for me to get out. She had a friend who’d been through a recent divorce and she thought the two of us would, er, have something in common. I didn’t enjoy the evening much. I didn’t see her again.”