Charity's Angel (12 page)

"I have my theories," he said darkly. He drew back his hand and Charity had only a moment to draw in a quick breath before he skimmed it across the surface, sending a sheet of water ahead of it. Her eyes squeezed shut as the water cascaded over her face.

"That was totally uncalled for," she protested, wiping the water out of her eyes.

"I'm sorry." His grin made the apology seem less than sincere. "I have this terrible twitch in my arm sometimes. Did I splash you?"

"Not at all." She brought both hands together in front of her, pushing them forward in a movement that simultaneously sent a wave of water toward Gabe's smiling face and pushed her back out of reach.

It was not, perhaps, the most vigorous game of water warfare she'd ever played, limited as her movements were. The game consisted in large part of her trying to splash Gabe before he could duck. The fact that he could have easily swum out of reach seemed irrelevant. '

For the first time since the shooting, Charity completely forgot about her injury. Buoyed by the water, bathed in the warmth of Gabe's laughter, she felt young, happy and, most of all, normal. This was one place where it didn't matter whether or not her legs worked. Or so she almost managed to convince herself.

Gabe had ducked underwater, and she turned to look for him. But she hadn't realized how close to the edge she was. The side of the pool loomed inches away, startling her into flailing backward, off balance, her movements clumsy.

For an instant she sank under the surface of the pool. The water closed over her head, and for one horrible moment she felt totally helpless. She'd been swimming since she was a child, and she couldn't possibly have counted the number of times Diane or Brian had dunked her or she'd gone underwater on her own.

But this time was different. This time there'd be no pushing up off the bottom, no quick kick to send her upward into the air, as there would have been if she'd had the use of her legs.

The water wings were forgotten. The fact that Gabe would hardly stand by and let her drown was forgotten. For that one horrible moment she was completely alone and completely helpless.

The water wings brought her to surface almost instantly and she drew in a gasping breath. But it wasn't enough to be back on the surface. She wanted out of the deceptively inviting water. She wanted the safety of her wheelchair, no matter how hateful it was.

Gabe was standing less than two feet away, the water lapping just short of his collarbone. He must have seen the panic on her face because his smile disappeared and he reached out to catch her arms.

"What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

Charity wrapped her fingers around his forearms, clinging to the sturdy support. The five feet of water beneath her suddenly felt endless.

"I want to get out," she said breathlessly.

"What happened?" Unconsciously Gabe drew her closer, his hands sliding up to her shoulders.

"I want out," she repeated. Near hysteria tightened her voice. "Now."

"Okay. It's all right." Gabe's voice dropped to a soothing murmur. His hands shifted and Charity clutched at him, her nails digging into his arms.

"Don't let go of me!"

Immediately he had her wrapped against him, his arms strong and hard against her back. "I won't let go. What happened?"

"I went under." She pressed her forehead to his shoulder, struggling to tamp down the panic that threatened to choke her.

"I was right here," he reminded her, one hand moving soothingly up and down her spine.

"I couldn't breathe and I couldn't swim." Tears burned at the back of her eyes.

"I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

"I know." With his arms holding her close, Charity felt the panic receding. Of course he wouldn't have let her drown.

"I just felt so helpless," she whispered.

Gate's arms tightened around her for a moment, and then he eased her back far enough to cup one hand under her chin, tilting her face up to his.

"I'm never going to let anything happen to you, Charity."

She closed her eyes as his thumb brushed across her cheek. His mouth followed the same path, soft kisses drying the tears from her skin. Charity shivered.

Any remaining wisps of fear were rapidly edged out by the warmth of his kisses. His mouth touched the corner of hers and she forgot how to breathe. For the space of several heartbeats neither of them moved.

Charity's hands shifted restlessly on his shoulders. As if it was the signal he'd been waiting for, Gate's mouth settled over hers.

What had begun as gentle comfort turned to white heat in the space of a breath. His lips were cool and damp, but there was nothing cool about the feelings they stirred.

Charity's hands slid upward, her fingers disappearing into his thick wet hair. Gate's hand tightened in her hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. When he drew back, Charity could feel his heart pounding against her breast. No doubt he could feel her heartbeat, the rhythm quick and hard.

She dragged her eyes open to stare up at him. His face was so close she could see the tiny gold lines that radiated out through the green of his eyes. Those eyes were searching her face, looking for something. She didn't need a mirror to know what he saw. Her eyes must be as dazed as she felt, her cheeks flushed, her mouth half-parted as if in invitation.

It was an invitation he didn't hesitate to accept, and Charity let out a soft sigh of pleasure as his mouth closed over hers again. His tongue dragged along her lower lip. With a delicious shudder she opened her mouth to him, her tongue coming up to twine with his.

The sun beat down on them, but its heat paled before the sudden fire burning between them. It was as if all the tensions of the past weeks had suddenly found release.

One of Gabe's hands stroked up and down her spine, leaving hot trails of awareness everywhere he touched. Charity drew closer, pressing herself against him as if he could somehow absorb her into himself.

Never in her life had she experienced a hunger like the one suddenly burning in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't get enough of him—his touch, his taste, the feel of his mouth, the silkiness of his hair beneath her fingers. And Gabe seemed to feel a similar hunger.

Afterward she wondered what would have happened if a shriek of laughter hadn't suddenly sliced through the still afternoon. The laughter was followed by a loud splash from next door. Obviously the neighbors were taking advantage of their pool.

The sound cut between them like a hot knife through butter. Gabe jerked back, his eyes locked in hers, his chest expanding as he drew a deep breath. Charity stared at him for a moment and then looked away, afraid of what he might see in her eyes; afraid of what she might see if she looked in her heart.

A light breeze skimmed across the water, and she shivered as it touched her wet shoulders.

"I...I think I'd like to get out now," she murmured without looking at him.

His hands were on her upper arms, and she felt his fingers tighten for a moment as if he might have protested. But if the thought occurred to him, he changed his mind. Without a word he guided her to the edge of the pool.

Charity gasped, her fingers clutching his shoulders for balance as he put his hands to her waist and lifted her to sit on the warm concrete.

She tried not to notice the way the water cascaded off his back and shoulders as he heaved himself out of the pool next to her. She tried not to notice how easily he lifted her, easing her down in the wheelchair. Most of all she tried not to notice how badly she wanted to run her fingers over the broad muscles of his chest.

Seated once again in the wheelchair, she felt the loss of that momentary illusion of normalcy the pool had given her. Staring down at her legs, she reminded herself that Gabe wouldn't have looked at her twice if it hadn't been for the shooting. And he wouldn't have kissed her if she hadn't been wrapped around him like a wet dishrag.

But the reasons for the kiss weren't as important as making sure that he knew she wasn't expecting anything to change because of it. She reached up to take the towel Gabe was handing her, forcing a wide smile.

"Well, that was certainly a surprise." Yes, that was just the right note of cheerful unconcern, she thought.

"I suppose you could call it that," he said slowly, picking up a second towel and rubbing it slowly over his chest. Charity dragged her eyes away from the motion, scrubbing her own towel over her arms.

"And you don't have to worry about me thinking this changes anything," she continued.

"I don't?"

"Of course not. It's my legs that don't work, not my brain, Gabe." She shot him a quick, smiling glance, her eyes darting away almost before they reached his face.

"I never thought there was anything wrong with your brain."

"Good. Because there isn't. I know what just happened."

Gabe finished drying his torso and then draped the towel around his neck, holding one end in each hand, his gaze questioning as he looked down at her.

"You want to explain it to me?"

"Proximity." She threw him another of those quick, meaningless smiles.

"Proximity." He repeated evenly.

"That's right. I was practically plastered to you," she said, as if he might have forgotten just how close they'd been.

Not bloody likely
, Gabe thought. Not when he could still feel the imprint of her slim body against his chest. Not when his hands could still feel her damp skin sliding under them. No, he didn't need to be reminded of how close they'd been.

"Proximity," he said again, his voice expressionless.

"That's right." Charity watched uneasily as he sat down on the end of a redwood chaise lounge.

"So you figure that I'd have kissed any woman I happened to find plastered to my chest?''

Put that way it didn't sound terribly flattering to either of them. Charity flushed and shifted uneasily in the chair.

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

"It's just that we've been spending a lot of time together these past couple of weeks, what with me living in your house and all. And I know you worry about me, about my walking again, I mean."

"What does that have to do with us kissing just now?"

"Well, you haven't gone out at all. Dated, I mean." She let her voice trail off, staring miserably at the cement decking.

Gabe's brows rose. "So I kissed you because I haven't been going out with other women? Thaf s not very flattering, Charity. It makes me sound like an oversexed moron."

"That's not what I meant." Her head jerked up, her expression worried until she caught the humor in his eyes. Her mouth curved in a rueful smile. "I didn't mean to put it quite that way."

"So you do think I'm an oversexed moron but you didn't want to actually say that," Gabe asked helpfully.

"Well, not the oversexed part at least."

"Gee, thanks."

"I just worry that you're putting your life on hold for me," she said on a more serious note. "You don't have to sit around with me every night. I mean, if you want to go out with.. .with someone, you should go."

"Maybe I like sitting around with you," he suggested. The look Charity threw him told him she certainly wasn't going to believe that, even for a moment. Gabe didn't pursue the issue.

"I just don't want you to feel like you have to hover over me. I'm doing just fine. I'm going to get my legs back," she said. The very force of her words exposed her doubts. Realizing that, she shrugged, her mouth twisting in a half smile. "And if I don't. ..well, at least I'll be able to park in handicapped spots without getting a ticket."

Gabe sensed she was retreating as fast as she could from the intimacy of their kiss. The unexpected surge of passion had surprised her as much as it had him. But where he had been exhilarated by the discovery, she seemed to be frightened.

Proximity. Like hell that's all it was. Proximity might have started the kiss. But it didn't explain how right she'd felt in his arms. Nor did it explain the urge he had to kiss her right now.

But this wasn't the time. He could see that quite clearly. He wouldn't force the issue. But one of these days he was going to have to show Ms. Charity Williams that proximity alone wasn't enough to spark a fire like the one that had flared between them.

"
N
ow, you're sure you'll be okay on your own?" Gabe gave her a concerned look.

"I'll be fine," Charity assured him. "It isn't like I haven't been alone here before."

"But not at night."

"I don't think night or day makes much difference."

He shrugged into a soft corduroy jacket, still frowning. "You're sure you don't need anything before I go?"

"Nothing. Diane brought me some old Cary Grant movies. I'm going to pop some popcorn in the microwave and watch movies all evening."

"Jay is just next door if you need anything," he reminded her, as if she might forget where Jay lived.

"I know." Charity gave him what she hoped was a confident smile.

Gabe picked up his car keys but hesitated. "I won't be late."

"Stay out as late as you want," she told him.

He hovered in the doorway. "You're sure there's nothing I can get you before I leave?"

"Nothing!" she said, laughing. "Go before I call the police and have you thrown out.''

"Well, if you're sure..." She picked up a pillow and held it up threateningly. "Okay, okay. I'm going. Don't forget that Jay is—"

"I know. I know. He's next door. Now get out of here."

Her exasperated smile faded as the door closed behind him. Lowering the pillow, she cradled it against her chest, listening to the sound of his car as it pulled out of the drive. The sound faded down the street and she was alone.

Not that she hadn't been alone before. As she'd pointed out to him, she'd spent a good part of most days alone. But she felt more alone now than she had since leaving the hospital. Gabe hadn't just gone out. He'd gone out on a date.

You're the one who urged him to go.

But she hadn't really expected him to take her up on it.

You told him not to let your presence interfere with his life.

But that didn't mean he had to run out and get a date two days later.

What do you care? It's not as if you're in love with him.

Of course not. She just worried about the kind of woman he might be going out with. She didn't have to be in love with Gabe to know that he was a very special man. He deserved a very special woman. What if this woman didn't appreciate how kind he was, how sensitive?

"He's only going out on a date with her," she muttered aloud. "Not marrying her."

She tossed the pillow back onto the sofa and, putting a hand on one wheel, turned the chair toward the kitchen. She wasn't going to spend the entire evening wondering about Gabe—what he was doing, who he was with. Especially not who he was with.

She was going to do exactly what she'd told Gabe she was going to do. She was going to eat too much popcorn, watch too many movies, and then she was going to go to bed and sleep soundly. She certainly wasn't going to do anything foolish, like wait up for Gabe.