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Never Tell Page 20

Unbidden, the image of a nearly catatonic Erin curled into the dead girl’s body swam before him. Impotent rage, redoubled in strength, welled inside and demanded release. Unable to do more than swear ripely beneath his breath, he stomped at the gas pedal, and the Jeep shot forward. Headlights bounced over ruts, bent as they traveled the sinuous road at a clip.

  Oblivious to his mood or his plans, Erin huddled against the metal door frame, staring aimlessly at the clear, beautiful night that seemed interminable. Intermittent shivers coursed through her, and she was powerless to halt their passage. The thin blanket Gabriel had tossed over her was gathered beneath her chin. Still caught between waking and nightmare, she breathed deep. It smelled of Gabriel, of strength and sandalwood and comfort.

  Nathan had a different scent, she remembered. Expensive cologne, the fragrance of the season, had always been his choice. It had given her headaches, but she rarely complained, learning that complaints would lead to a different kind of pain.

  The pain had pounded in her head. She’d been at his computer for hours, finishing the paper for him. Her own dissertation collected dust on the writing table he’d allowed her in the tiny pink bedroom upstairs. But his conference in Italy was in less than a month, and he needed her to finish this paper. She would make any changes silently. She’d learned years ago not to correct him aloud.

  He read over her shoulder, his teeth clicking together impatiently when she made a mistake. She tried to type faster. But it was difficult to think clearly when her skull felt as though it had been driven through with spikes.

  “Nathan.” She kept her voice low, penitent. “I’m sorry, but I can’t concentrate. Your cologne. I have a headache.”

  “Fine.” Nathan jerked the chair and tipped it over. She tumbled to the floor, cowered there. He kicked the chair aside. “Get out! Get the hell out of my house!”

  At his feet, Analise waited for the blow. Most of the time, it never came. But she couldn’t tell. It was better to fear it, to brace for it, than to be surprised. It never occurred to her to run. Even when he told her to.

  Knowing she waited for the blow, he held off. She made him look like a fool, altering his theories and changing his words. It didn’t matter that he forced her to write for him, that he hadn’t written a paper on his own in nearly a decade. All that mattered was that she laughed at him when he wasn’t around. She thought him beneath her, that she was smarter than he. After tonight, he’d show her the painful truth. Looming above her, he lifted his foot as though to crush her beneath its tread.

  “Leave! Go find someone else who will take care of you. Who’ll let you play scholar, let you live off of his reputation.”

  She didn’t protest that it was he who lived off of her. She’d forgotten. Instead, she felt the slippery mix of guilt and gratitude. He’d given her a home. A life. He was her only friend. All he asked in return was a little help now and then. How dare she complain?

  He could see the contrition, the confusion. He would use it.

  “I’m the only one who gives a damn about you, Analise.” He smiled at her gently, lovingly. He helped her to her feet, cradled her against him. Forcing her face against his throat, where he knew the cologne was the strongest.

  The sneeze caught her unawares. Angrily, he thrust her away from him, and she tripped over the fallen chair. Her elbow cracked against the steel base, shards of pain radiating up from the bone. Why was she so clumsy? From the ground, she whimpered, “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t be so sensitive.” Rubbing at her nose, at her arm, she begged for forgiveness. “I won’t do it again.”

  “You’re clumsy and thoughtless, Analise. That’s why no one else loves you.” Once more, he drew her to her feet. He shook her and tossed her onto the leather sofa. Grabbing at her, he dug cruel fingers into her arms. The slender bones shifted beneath the silken skin she wouldn’t allow him to touch. “Who else would love you but me?”

  “No one,” she whimpered, trying not to upset him. “You’re the only one who loves me.”

  “But you won’t let me love you, will you, Analise?” Suddenly, he ripped at her blouse. The silk tore, revealing the plain black bra beneath. Desire twisted inside him and he clamped his hand onto one covered breast. “You’re a tease, aren’t you? You make me want you, but you won’t let me love you.” He bent down to the creamy flesh. Clumsy fingers fumbled with her pants. “Let me love you,” he moaned, grinding his mouth to hers.

  “No!” She surged beneath him, desperate to escape. “You promised you wouldn’t do this!” After the last time, when he’d tried to take her and failed, he’d broken her arm. “Please, Nathan, don’t.”

  The fist into her stomach stopped her screams. “Don’t tell me no! Don’t ever tell me no!” He could smell her terror and it excited him. She was his, and tonight, he would have all of her. If he had to beat her to take her, so much the better.

  She scratched at the hands that tugged at her jeans, jerked at the head that bit her breasts. The cologne filled the air around her and she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see. Blindly, wildly, she kicked out and connected. Nathan’s wail of pain echoed through the room and he collapsed to the floor. She scrambled off the couch and hurried to her bedroom. Barricading the door, she sat against it, bruised and aching. His punishment would be brutal, unless she stayed hidden until he left for Milan. She sat motionless against the door, unable to muster a single tear. His question wrapped itself inside her head. Who loved her?

  No one, she thought hopelessly. They sent me here because they didn’t love me. They left me with him. How could anyone have loved her and left her with him?

  The Jeep climbed a steep rise, unexpected in an area known for sinking below sea level. Her face pressed against the window, her eyes fluttered open and she saw that they’d driven up a plank of wood. Curiosity died before she could see that the plank led into a garage. They’d stopped, she noted listlessly. She didn’t move, unable to decide what to do next or to care.

  Had Nathan told her to stay or go?

  Gabriel made the decision for her. He opened the door and bundled her unresisting form into his arms. He bumped the door closed, not bothering with the locks. The aged ramp creaked gingerly beneath his feet, but the concrete stays beneath the treated wood guaranteed their stability.

  Crossing to the tall, wide doorway, Gabriel fitted the key to the bolt. A slender beam of fluorescent light greeted him, the result of the hurricane lamp resting above the door. With practiced motions, he flicked on the kitchen lights and carried her through to the main room. He paused at the doorway to switch on the overhead light, but when it didn’t respond, he walked into the room, knowing its contents.

  His grandmother’s wide green sofa dominated the space, its lines worn and comfortably shabby. Colorful quilts made by his Great-aunt Jeanette were stacked in a cherry bin on the left and draped over the antique rocking chair in front. On the opposite side was a gateleg table that had been carved from a felled oak by his father, and its surface held a shallow crystal bowl filled with hardened peppermint candy.

  Along three walls, massive oval windows reinforced with treated glass peered out into the depths of the bayou. The central window was fitted to a door and opened onto a wraparound porch. Beneath an ivory-framed window, a varnished table with four sturdy chairs waited. Fishing gear rested in the far corner, rods leaning drunkenly against tackle boxes dusty from disuse. A hallway laid with a hand-woven rug in a deeper green than the couch led to two bedrooms and a single shared bath.

  Unerringly Gabriel knelt on the cushions, tucking Erin into their soft embrace. He rummaged in the bin for a quilt, desperate to stop the shivers that continued to course through her.

  “Erin, honey, I’m going into the kitchen. To make some tea. I’ll be right back.” Gabriel rose from his crouch beside her. Suddenly her fingers curled around his wrist, the nails biting in deep.

  “No,” she moaned brokenly. “Please. Stay.”

  “Always.” Gabriel’s hand twisted benea
th her grip to hold her tight. He settled onto the sofa and lifted her across his lap. Stretching his long legs out, he tucked her along his side and stroked a tender hand along the silken mass of hair that flowed over her shoulders. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here.”

  In the dimly lit room, he could see Erin’s graceful profile, the face slack with exhaustion. And fear. Endlessly he held her, stilling her restive movements, soothing her brow with soft kisses. Beneath his touch she calmed, and nightmare receded into sleep. Only once did she stir. Then she whispered a new name. “Analise.”

  Gabriel continued to watch her, puzzled by the woman in his arms. More than the sight of a dead woman had wrought this devastation. She was shattered. And, though it may have bruised his ego, he recognized that her clinging wasn’t to him. Hell, she wasn’t really aware of him, not as a man. To her, he was simply protection against a darker, deadlier specter.

  Before they left this isolated cabin on the edge of the bayou, he’d uncover her secrets. She’d fight him, but he was stronger and determined. Nathan, he figured, was somehow connected to California. The story he’d been unraveling with her had jumbled once more. The killer in New Orleans. A killer in California. A man named Nathan. A woman named Analise.

  A wide yawn cracked his jaw, and he wrapped her still body closer, savoring the quiet. They wouldn’t leave until he’d learned everything, he decided drowsily. Until she trusted him.

  As dawn crested and topaz cascaded through the uncovered windows, he slid into sleep.

  “Gabriel?”

  Erin’s voice was a pleasant susurration along his jaw. He turned, seeking the supple source of warmth that bowed along him in wonderful places. Slowly his mouth skimmed over creamy skin. His hands closed over firm, warm skin, and he allowed them to wander. Rounded curves filled his eager palms. When the slender body arched into him, he slid keen hands up, to knead the pliant flesh. “Hmm.”

  “Gabriel.” The whisper became a muffled, urgent demand. “Gabriel, stop.” Erin followed the command with an ungentle nip at his ear, the only flesh she could reach.

  He emerged into full wakefulness when he conked his head against the wooden frame of the sofa’s arm. “Ouch!”

  Unfocused gray eyes shot open, and closed immediately on another groan of complaint. Bright, unfiltered light streamed into the living room and directly into his line of sight. Beneath him, a supine and deceptively lush Erin wiggled for escape. The triple assaults on his senses were too much.

  “For God’s sake, woman, stop moving,” he growled, and threw an arm across her writhing body, trapping her where she lay against sensitive, rigid flesh. Erin bucked in protest, and Gabriel tightened his leg warningly. “If you have any compassion in you at all, you’ll just be still.”

  The coarse tone carried a deeper edge of frustrated longing. Erin smartly lay still. She’d resisted waking, resisted abandoning the sensual oblivion that had become hers in sleep. During the night, they’d come together, so that she awoke to find her face snuggled into his chest.

  Her traitorous hands had sought the sleek heat of his naked back, sliding beneath his shirt to hold him close. Hard hips cradled her between steeled thighs, and she could feel him growing impossibly harder. Awake, as in her dreams, she wanted nothing more than to pull him to her, into her, their union at once a safe haven and a dangerous prison.

  “Good girl.” Oblivious to her thoughts, Gabriel unwound bare arms that circled his waist and eased her into the dip between his tumescent body and the back of the couch. Without a word, he surged to his feet and strode off in what she assumed was the direction of the bathroom. Erin drew herself into a seated position and drew her knees up, beneath her chin.

  Abruptly she recalled the events of the night before. How they’d stumbled over Harmony’s body and how she’d tried to revive her. Gabriel had plowed over the paramedics to get her to the Jeep and away from the scene.

  She replayed her panicked reaction. Gabriel would have new questions. More questions. He would want to know about Nathan and California. About Analise and her crimes.

  Erin could hear Gabriel returning, and she cast desperately for the explanation she knew he’d demand. Why had she become so distraught over Harmony’s death? And more damning, who was Nathan? Answering the first would be simple. A student’s death was guaranteed to shock. Nathan would be harder to explain.

  “I can see the lies forming,” Gabriel remarked casually from the hallway, where he’d been watching her prepare. Pushing away from the doorjamb, he entered the room and sank into the rocking chair. “It’s fascinating, really. Your eyes narrow in concentration, like you have to plan out the full story. Account for every detail. Then your mouth purses with determination. But I never see any remorse.”

  Beneath the even tone, Erin heard the disappointment, and tried to banish the shame. She would lie if she had to, be honest if she must. He would know the difference, but she thought about lying anyway.

  He had no claim to her story. But she remembered his arms holding her close, his gentle murmurs of comfort, and they defeated her. “Ask your questions.”

  “Who is Nathan Rhodes?” The question had snaked around his heart, sinking venomous fangs deep. The name had followed him into agitated sleep and dragged him awake several times, when she’d called out the cursed name and scrabbled to hold Gabriel, or probably Nathan, closer. “Is he another lover? Like the phantom Sebastian?”

  Slowly Erin shook her head in mute denial. “Sebastian is my best friend. And Nathan and I were never lovers.” She shuddered at the recent memory. She paused then, searching for the most apt description that cloaked the reality. “He was my mentor.”

  Gabriel marveled at the rush of relief, followed quickly by exasperation. He cared too much about a single answer. Yet he was determined to have all of them. “Where is he now?”

  “California.” She met his look steadily, and she wondered if she would eventually give him even that final satisfaction. “But you won’t find him.”

  “Of course not,” he agreed straightforwardly. “He’s dead.” Gabriel smiled at her, a thin, humorless smile. “Did you kill him?”

  Her stunned expression, guilt layered with apprehension, should have answered his question. But the eyes, the huge, expressive brown eyes that telegraphed her thoughts so clearly, were filled with confusion. That was why, when she finally responded, he wasn’t sure if he should believe.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” He leaned forward, his arms near her bent legs. Absently he lifted her cold hand, a habit he couldn’t seem to break. “What did he do to you?”

  The kind touch, the unexpected compassion, scorched her skin. She jumped up from the sofa, black tresses streaming behind her. Emotions, tangled and muddied, struggled to find their core.

  She walked over to the window, the sunlight breaking through the glass. Resting her hands against the panes, she could feel the heat on her skin. She wondered if she could ever be warm again. “He took everything from me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I allowed him to.” A sneer curled her lip. “I was weak. Pathetic.”

  Gabriel joined her at the window, not near enough to crowd. “You’re not that same person, Erin. I’ve never known a braver woman than you.”

  He didn’t understand her sad smile. “You don’t know me.”

  Patience, an endless well, seemed to fill him. He didn’t touch her, knowing it would make her run. He merely shrugged, the truth plain. “Yes, I do.”

  “Stop saying that!” she seethed, and the sun played through the clear glass, a beacon to highlight the anger that overflowed. “You don’t know who I was!”

  “Tell me.”

  “I was nothing! A wraith with no feelings except the ones he gave me. With no thoughts except the ones he let me think. I was nobody except who he made me!”

  Gabriel caught her hand then, brought it to his cheek. Molten rage churned inside him, but he corralled the fury, knowing she didn’t need his anger. Whether
she could admit it or not, she needed him. “Tell me what happened to you, Erin.”

  As quickly as resentment had taken her, it fled, leaving her drained. “I can’t,” she said tiredly. She raised her free hand in a gesture of defeat, then pressed it to her stomach, as though to hold the pain inside. “Not yet. I can’t.”

  “What else do you want from me, Erin? What will it take to make you trust me?” Anger flashed, and he let it spill over. “I’ve worked beside you. I’ve taken everything you’ve told me on faith. All I have ever asked of you is the truth. But you don’t think enough of me to give me that.”

  Erin shook her head, stunned. “It’s not you. God, Gabriel, I do trust you.”

  “Then why the lies? Why won’t you let me all the way inside?”

  “Because I can’t go back yet!” she railed. “I can still see Harmony’s body, Gabriel. I knew she was dead, but I still tried to save her. I knew why she was dead. Because of me. Because of what I’ve done.” She raised her eyes to his, begging for understanding. “I see him everywhere, and damn him, I can’t escape.”

  “Let me help you. Tell me.”

  On a nearly inaudible whisper, she said, “Tomorrow, I’ll be stronger. I promise.” She shook her head. “Today, I just can’t.”

  He stepped closer, and she sidled away. Relentless, he pursued her, and when her spine met the window he cupped her chin, his thumb resting lightly on the faint cleft. “Okay.”

  Startled, she met his look. “Why?”

  “Because I have time. And, though I didn’t know it before now, I can be terribly patient.”

  “Why?” she repeated, in a voice so small it broke his heart.

  “Because you need me to be.” He chuckled ruefully. “It seems I can also be sensitive. Who knew?”

  Compelled, she moved into him. His hand slid to her throat and she tilted her head to hold his gaze. “Where’ve you been, Gabriel Moss?”

  His mouth covered hers, as lightly as a dream. In restrained forays, he slipped inside, drawing out the moment, extending the pleasure beyond bearing. Warm breath sighed into him, and he cautiously explored the satiny recesses. Over, under, together, he claimed her mouth for his own.