The Getaway Bride

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.