Pretend you’re not home. Don’t let her in.”
“You don’t understand,” Alice repeated, retreating as far as possible into her bathrobe. “She wasn’t supposed to be home till tomorrow. I haven’t seen her in six months. I have to let her in. That’s my sister, the major.”
Chapter Three
“W ho’s that with her?”
“Oh, God, it must be the yuppie—the investment broker.” Alice struggled to keep the “ugh” out of her voice. “I mentioned him—he went to school with The Major. He’s the one they’ve lined up to accompany me to the wedding and the rehearsal dinner. I don’t know how weddings affect your family, but with mine it’s, you know, weddings, romance, boy-girl-boy-girl, Noah’s Ark—symmetry in numbers. They wanted me to go out with him before the wedding. I was
supposed to meet him for brunch this morning, but I begged off. Told them I had to look for a job. Oh, God, I don’t want to do this. I’m not cut out for this. They’re making me crazy , always trying to fix me up, pair me off, drag me along with this man or that—usually with some metrosexual professional or career military man who needs a cute little homebody to arrange his life and be his hostess. Home and hearth, earth mama, that’s me. Or so they think. Dammit.”
Agitated, she retreated to the kitchen, putting another wall between herself and the door. “Oh, God, why do you do this to me? I’ve been good. I haven’t done anything—lately. I hate it when they do this. I always wind up sitting in some little dark corner listening to sob stories and fending off advances because they think that since my sisters had to get me a date I’m either desperate or a real loser, and I’m not. I just... don’t like strange men. I mean, really, don’t they
think I’d get my own dates if I wanted—”
Inspiration struck in the middle of the word, and she swung around on Gabriel, eyes gleaming with it — and terror. “Look, I don’t count favors or call markers or whatever it is they say on those cop shows, but I’m desperate, and I’m not going out on any date she’s set me up for, and you owe me. You don’t have to say anything, just let her think—”
Ever quick on the uptake—a trait that, along with his skill at improvisation, had saved his hide more than once—Gabriel kissed her. Thoroughly. With something that began in amusement and ended in surprise. Or rather, didn’ t want to end at all.
Shaken, he pulled away from her, touched a thumb to her lip in amazement, then loosened the belt on her robe just enough to make her look rushed.
Warmth thudded through Alice, raised the color in her cheeks, her throat, spread into the pale skin revealed by the gap in her robe. He raised a finger as though to brush away the flush, hesitated, then folded the lapels of her robe over it instead. Where the aquamarine contact lenses would have hidden his emotion, desire lay exposed in the true color of his eyes. He moved his hand, and Alice clutched the folds of her robe together at her throat. He cleared his.
“There,” he whispered. “Now you look like you’ve been too busy to answer the door.”
Alice tasted the trace of him that lingered on her lips, and some long unreleased sigh shuddered through her. “I, uh, kind of feel like I’ve been too busy to answer the door.”
She touched her mouth and offered him half a smile, and Gabriel’s gut tightened. His jaw worked. It was no good, he’d known that from the start. She touched him and he wanted her in the most elemental way possible. She surprised him. Fearful, generous, enigmatic, childlike, uncomplicated and complex — all of it genuine, unlike him. He wanted to convince himself he’d kissed her partly out of gratitude and partly because lying to people, acting, setting a scene to make illusion look like truth was something he did well, was what he did for a living. Seventy-five percent of making a lie work lay in making himself believe in it
“You don’t understand,” Alice repeated, retreating as far as possible into her bathrobe. “She wasn’t supposed to be home till tomorrow. I haven’t seen her in six months. I have to let her in. That’s my sister, the major.”
Chapter Three
“W ho’s that with her?”
“Oh, God, it must be the yuppie—the investment broker.” Alice struggled to keep the “ugh” out of her voice. “I mentioned him—he went to school with The Major. He’s the one they’ve lined up to accompany me to the wedding and the rehearsal dinner. I don’t know how weddings affect your family, but with mine it’s, you know, weddings, romance, boy-girl-boy-girl, Noah’s Ark—symmetry in numbers. They wanted me to go out with him before the wedding. I was
supposed to meet him for brunch this morning, but I begged off. Told them I had to look for a job. Oh, God, I don’t want to do this. I’m not cut out for this. They’re making me crazy , always trying to fix me up, pair me off, drag me along with this man or that—usually with some metrosexual professional or career military man who needs a cute little homebody to arrange his life and be his hostess. Home and hearth, earth mama, that’s me. Or so they think. Dammit.”
Agitated, she retreated to the kitchen, putting another wall between herself and the door. “Oh, God, why do you do this to me? I’ve been good. I haven’t done anything—lately. I hate it when they do this. I always wind up sitting in some little dark corner listening to sob stories and fending off advances because they think that since my sisters had to get me a date I’m either desperate or a real loser, and I’m not. I just... don’t like strange men. I mean, really, don’t they
think I’d get my own dates if I wanted—”
Inspiration struck in the middle of the word, and she swung around on Gabriel, eyes gleaming with it — and terror. “Look, I don’t count favors or call markers or whatever it is they say on those cop shows, but I’m desperate, and I’m not going out on any date she’s set me up for, and you owe me. You don’t have to say anything, just let her think—”
Ever quick on the uptake—a trait that, along with his skill at improvisation, had saved his hide more than once—Gabriel kissed her. Thoroughly. With something that began in amusement and ended in surprise. Or rather, didn’ t want to end at all.
Shaken, he pulled away from her, touched a thumb to her lip in amazement, then loosened the belt on her robe just enough to make her look rushed.
Warmth thudded through Alice, raised the color in her cheeks, her throat, spread into the pale skin revealed by the gap in her robe. He raised a finger as though to brush away the flush, hesitated, then folded the lapels of her robe over it instead. Where the aquamarine contact lenses would have hidden his emotion, desire lay exposed in the true color of his eyes. He moved his hand, and Alice clutched the folds of her robe together at her throat. He cleared his.
“There,” he whispered. “Now you look like you’ve been too busy to answer the door.”
Alice tasted the trace of him that lingered on her lips, and some long unreleased sigh shuddered through her. “I, uh, kind of feel like I’ve been too busy to answer the door.”
She touched her mouth and offered him half a smile, and Gabriel’s gut tightened. His jaw worked. It was no good, he’d known that from the start. She touched him and he wanted her in the most elemental way possible. She surprised him. Fearful, generous, enigmatic, childlike, uncomplicated and complex — all of it genuine, unlike him. He wanted to convince himself he’d kissed her partly out of gratitude and partly because lying to people, acting, setting a scene to make illusion look like truth was something he did well, was what he did for a living. Seventy-five percent of making a lie work lay in making himself believe in it
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