Charity's Angel (15 page)

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It was stubborn determination not to lose even a day's work that led her to get in the pool alone the next day. The physical therapist had called to say she was going to be an hour late. Even that small delay was intolerable to Charity in her current mood.

As far as she could determine, the exercises had had no effect, but the doctors and the therapist kept telling her how important it was to maintain her muscle tone.

After assuring Mary that she wasn't upset by the delay, Charity wheeled herself out to the pool and stared at the blue water, feeling frustration building inside. It was ridiculous to think that an hour's delay in her therapy session was going to make a bit of difference. But it didn't feel like an hour. It felt like a week.

Of course, she supposed she could ask Gabe to help her. It was his day off. He'd been shut in the den all day, but she didn't doubt that he'd drop whatever he was doing to help her with her exercises. Probably hoping to get her off his hands a little quicker, she thought gloomily.

Heaven knows, since that rather steamy kiss in the kitchen, he'd hardly seemed to know who she was. No. That wasn't really fair. He certainly didn't ignore her or treat her with any less courtesy than he had before Brian's noisy visit. He just didn't seem terrifically focused at the moment.

"And it probably has absolutely nothing to do with you," she told herself firmly, her voice barely audible. "Don't be such a paranoid egotist."

No doubt Gabe had any number of things on his mind besides her. It was silly to think that his every mood reflected something to do with her.

It wasn't only his odd mood that made her reluctant to ask him to help her with her exercises. "Vivid in her memory was the first, last and only time he'd helped her. And it wasn't the fear she'd felt when she went under the water that she thought of first. It was the feel of Gabe's water-cooled skin under her palms, the heat of his mouth on hers. Just remembering made her skin tingle.

No, she wasn't going to ask Gabe to help her. Which meant she was just going to have to wait until Mary got here. Waiting an hour wouldn't kill her, even if it felt like it would.

Of course, she could go in the pool alone. There wasn't much she could do, but there were one or two exercises that she might be able to manage. Besides, it would be nice and cool in the water.

She glanced up at the pale blue sky. The temperature was hovering near ninety and the water looked awfully inviting. Her eyes fell on the bright orange life vest that she'd been wearing since the session with Gabe where she'd gotten such a fright. With the vest on, she wouldn't be in any danger.

She looked over her shoulder at the house, feeling like a teenager about to light up a forbidden cigarette. The den was on the other side of the house, which meant Gabe couldn't even see the pool if he happened to look out a window.

Not that it was any of Gabe's business, she told herself firmly. It wasn't as if she was thinking about doing anything dangerous.

Charity reached down to scoop the lightweight life vest off the concrete. The fabric was hot under her fingers. She struggled into it, buckling it firmly in place.

One thing she'd realized in the past couple of days was that she'd been letting other people take care of her ever since the shooting. She'd completely abdicated responsibility for her life and let them make decisions for her. If it wasn't Diane, it was Gabe or the doctors or the therapist.

She set her jaw and the brake on the chair. Reaching down, she grasped first one ankle and then the other, lifting each foot off the footrest and flipping the rests up out of the way. She slid forward until she was sitting on the edge of the chair. Then she moved each leg outward until her feet hung over the water.

Sitting there, her feet hanging in thin air, she was suddenly sure that this was the stupidest thing she'd ever done in her entire life. Before she could change her mind, she used her hands to launch herself out of the chair.

It was undoubtedly the clumsiest entry anyone had ever made into a pool. She hit her legs on the edge, something she was only able to tell because the impact jarred her whole body. She landed face first in the water, feeling a moment of panic. But the life vest bobbed her upright immediately.

What if she'd injured herself when she hit the side of the pool? She wouldn't even know if she'd cut her legs. She twisted, trying to get a look at the backs of her legs but it was beyond her.

Swiping her wet hair out of her face, she told herself to stay calm. At worst she might have scraped the skin a little. But she could hardly have gashed herself to the bone on the concrete pool edging. Besides, at least she wouldn't have to worry about sharks.

The thought made her giggle and she clapped a hand over her mouth, wondering if she was about to become hysterical. But she didn't feel hysterical. Now that the initial fright had passed, she actually felt rather proud of herself.

Dropping her hand back into the water, she laughed aloud. Stretching her arms out, she waved her hands back and forth, turning a full circle in the pool. The water felt wonderful, a cool contrast to the blazing hot sun. As always, the buoyancy of the water helped compensate for the lack of feeling in her legs. It was almost possible to pretend that there was nothing wrong with them.

She tilted her head back, closing her eyes against the sun, savoring the feel of it on her face. There was no real point in pretending that she'd really believed she could do any of her exercises by herself. The real point had been to prove that she could do something on her own, even if it was something as foolish and essentially purposeless as getting into the pool alone.

Charity floated, letting all the tension drain out of her. With her eyes closed, she could imagine herself floating in some exotic island lagoon. Any minute, a gorgeous man, wearing nothing but a pair of minuscule briefs would walk out of the jungle. He'd be tall with green-gold eyes and unruly sun-streaked brown hair. He'd smile at her and—

"What the hell do you think you're doing!"

The dream popped like a bubble pierced by a pin. Charity had been half drowsing, but Gabe's angry voice was better than a fire siren for banishing any lingering sleepiness.

Lifting one hand to shade her eyes against the sun, she peered up at him. He stood on the edge of the pool, his hands on his hips, glaring down at her. Though his face was shadowed, she didn't need to see his expression to know that his mood was less than light. His body language was perfectly clear.

He was absolutely furious.

"
E
xcuse me?" She hadn't done anything wrong, she reminded herself. But it was a little hard to keep in mind when he stood there glowering down at her.

"You heard me. What the hell are you doing?"

Charity lifted her chin. She didn't particularly care for his tone.

"I'm relaxing in the pool," she said, making it clear that she thought that should have been obvious.

"Alone?"

"Unless there's someone here I hadn't noticed."

"Are you crazy?"

"I don't think so," she said stiffly.

"Well, you couldn't prove it by me."

"I don't recall asking you. What are you doing?"

He was wearing black running shorts and a dark gold polo shirt. Now he was stripping the shirt off over his head, tossing it onto the concrete.

"You're getting out," he said flatly.

"I'm not sure I want to get out," she protested.

"Tough."

He jumped into the water. The waves from his entry into the pool reached her just before he did. Charity had been prepared to protest his macho treatment but she swallowed the words when she got a good look at his face.

She'd never seen Gabe so angry. His jaw was set like granite. His eyes met hers for only an instant, but Charity felt singed by that brief look.

The water lapped around Gabe's collarbone as he stopped beside her. She expected him to take her by the arm and tow her to the side of the pool.

Once she was out of the water, she was going to explain calmly and coolly, that she didn't care for his overbearing attitude. She would make it clear that just because she was staying in his house, he didn't have the right to treat her like a child. She would make him understand—

"Oh!" Gabe scooped her up in his arms and strode to the steps. Charity's arms circled his neck automatically. He carried her as easily as if she were a child, striding up the steps and onto the concrete decking.

"Put me down." She bit her lip in annoyance. She sounded like the heroine in a grade B movie. But she didn't like being so close to him. It was hard to remember how angry she was when she could feel the steady thumping of his heart against her breast.

"Gladly." But he didn't put her into her wheelchair. He set her on the redwood lounger. "Now,

would you like to explain what you thought you were doing?"

"I don't think so." She dragged the tattered remnants of her dignity around her. "I don't see why you're so upset."

"Oh, you don't?" It was obvious that his brief foray into the water hadn't cooled his temper by even a degree.

"No, I don't," she snapped. "I was wearing a life vest." She wrenched at the buckles of it as she spoke, tossing it onto the decking. She glared up at Gabe, furious that he'd spoiled her small triumph. "There was nothing to worry about."

"I had no way of knowing that." He stood over her, dripping wet, his anger so palpable that she wouldn't have been surprised to see the water turn to pure steam on his skin.

''Why would you think anything else?"

"I looked out the window, expecting to see you waiting for Mary. Instead, I see that—" He thrust an accusing finger to where her wheelchair lay next to the pool. Her precipitous exit from it had tipped it onto its side.

Charity stared at it, realizing how it must have looked. From the house he couldn't have seen her in the water. All he would have seen was the overturned chair.

Illogically her anger didn't abate with the realization that he'd had reason to be worried. It had seemed such a simple thing. All she'd wanted was to do something—however minor—to exercise some tiny amount of control over her life.

She hadn't meant to worry Gabe. And what had he been doing looking out the window, anyway?

"I thought you'd fallen into the pool," he said.

"Well, I didn't," she snapped. She blinked back tears of frustration.

"I didn't know that. You could have drowned." He raised his voice on the last, as if she might not have grasped the possibilities,

"Maybe that would be a relief," Charity all but shouted, frustration bubbling up inside her.

"Don't say that." Gabe sank to his knees on the decking beside the chair. "Don't ever say that."

"Maybe it's the way I feel," she muttered without looking at him.

She hadn't realized the tears had escaped until his hand came up to brush them away. She batted his fingers aside.

"Go away."

"Hush." The sight of her tears seemed to have washed away his anger.

"Just go away," she said, trying to turn her face away. "I'm sorry you were worried. Now leave me alone."

"I wasn't worried. I was scared to death." He cupped one hand around her chin, tilting her face to his, brushing her tears away with his other hand.

"Don't be nice to me," she mumbled, feeling like a fool. If he was too nice, she was likely to burst into tears and make a total fool of herself.

"Would you rather I was mean?" Gentle amusement laced the words.

"Yes." She sighed, blinking back the tears. "It would be easier to take. I'm sorry I scared you."

"I'm sorry I yelled at you." His thumb brushed across her lips.

"I just wanted to feel like I was doing something on my own. Like I was in control of my life again." She looked into his eyes, trying to see if he understood what she was saying.

"Next time, warn me, would you?"

Warn him of what? she wondered dazedly. Was it possible to drown in someone's eyes?

His thumb brushed across her mouth again, and her lips parted, as if in answer to a silent command. Gabe's eyes dropped to her mouth for an instant before sweeping back up to hers. His gaze was more gold than green. She closed her eyes, unable to sustain the intensity of his look.

She felt his breath brush across her mouth an instant before his lips touched hers. Her breath left her on a sigh, her hands moving up to clutch his bare shoulders.

It was just as it had been before. Passion flared between them. Rising in a quick, stunning tide that swept her along.

His mouth slanted fiercely over hers, his tongue sliding past the barrier of her teeth to twine over hers. Charity welcomed the sensuous touch. Her fingers buried themselves in the damp hair at the back of his neck, drawing him closer.

Gabe groaned deep in his throat, his arms lifting her further onto the lounge, his lean body following her, half pressing her into the cushions.

Charity murmured a protest as his mouth left hers, but it turned to a sigh of pleasure as his tongue found the delicate curve of her ear. She arched her neck to allow him better access as he dragged his mouth the length of her throat, finding and testing the pulse that beat frantically at its base.

One strong hand cupped the back of her head. The hand that had been resting against her waist slid upward and Charity's breath caught when he boldly cupped her breast. She stiffened, only to melt when his thumb brushed across the taut peak of her nipple.

Her fingers tightened in his hair, dragging his mouth back up to hers, and she heard Gabe's rumble of approval as their lips met.

She'd never felt this kind of frantic need before. Her whole body seemed to pulse with it. The sun that blazed down from the sky was surely no hotter than the heat they were generating between the two of them.

Her hands slid over his sun-warmed back, feeling the muscles rippling under her fingers. She wanted him, needed him in a way she'd never needed anything before. It was as if he was a part of her, missing all her life and finally back where he belonged.

His hand left her breast, sliding along the indentation of her waist, pausing there, savoring the feel of her yielding beneath him. Charity thought she could never get enough of him, never give enough in return.

His hand slid lower, his thumb brushing over her hip bone before stroking downward.

"No!" Hands that a moment before had been holding him close were suddenly frantically pushing him away.

"What the..." Gabe's head jerked up, his eyes still dark gold with hunger.

"Don't." The choked word was all she could get out, her hands still pushing against his shoulders.

"Don't?" He shook his head, trying to clear his mind of lingering passion. "Don't what?"

" Let me go,'' she ordered tightly.

"What's wrong?" He still couldn't quite absorb the abrupt change in her."Did I hurt you?''

She shook her head. "I just don't want you to touch me there."

"Where?" His brows rose as understanding came. "Your legs? You don't want me to touch your legs?"

She nodded, turning her face away. It made her feel sick even to think of him putting his hands on her legs.

"Does it hurt you?" he asked, bewildered.

"No, it doesn't hurt," she said tautly. "I can't feel anything, remember? I can't feel it when you touch me. I can't feel anything. Let me go."

"Calm down, sweetheart. There's nothing to be afraid of."

If she hadn't been so upset, she might have noticed the endearment, might have taken pleasure in his tenderness. But all she wanted was for him to go away. Something that had been so wonderful had turned to ashes.

"I don't need your pity," she told him, her voice climbing.

"Who said anything about pity? Did it feel like I was pitying you?"

"How would I know?" she snapped. "Go away."

"I'm not going to go away until you calm down and listen to me. I've touched your legs before when I picked you up and you didn't get upset."

"That was different." She refused to meet his eyes. "Get off me." How could she explain the difference to him when she couldn't even explain it to herself? And how was she supposed to explain anything at all when he was practically on top of her?

"Charity." He caught her chin in his hand, turning her face to his. His eyes were all golden green, warm with emotion.

"I'm falling in love with you."

Just one simple sentence, but Charity felt as if her world had been picked up and given a hard shake and when it was set down, it wouldn't ever be the same again. Her eyes widened in shock.

"No."

"Yes." Gabe's half-amused look hid the anxiety she was too upset to see.

"No. You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"I'm saying it because it's true. I'm falling in love with you."

"No!" She didn't want to hear it. She was afraid she might believe it. And when reality came crashing in, she wouldn't be able to deal with the heartbreak.

"I didn't mean to upset you," Gabe said, easing away from her.

"I'm not upset. And I wish you'd stop saying that," she added on a frantic note that gave the lie to her first statement.

"Okay. But not saying it doesn't mean it's not true."

"Stop it." She pushed against his shoulders, levering herself away. "You don't love me. You just think you should." She pushed again, wanting him to be gone, wanting to lock herself away somewhere. Somewhere where she didn't have to hear things that she desperately wanted to believe.

She was so focused on her emotional turmoil that she'd completely forgotten her physical limitations; forgotten legs that didn't move; forgotten everything beyond her desire to put some distance between herself and Gabe.

Her left leg shifted toward the edge of the lounger. It was only an inch, hardly enough to notice. But Charity noticed.

"Oh my God." Charity's nails dug into Gabe's shoulders, her eyes snapping to his, a mixture of hope and fear darkening them to a muddy green.

"What's wrong?" He picked up on her sudden tension, his expression changing from one of chagrined amusement to concern. "Are you hurt?"

"No." She swallowed, afraid to even voice the thought out loud. What if she'd imagined the small movement? What if she could never do it again?

"What is it Charity?" Gabe caught her arms, his eyes searching.

"My leg," she whispered. "I think it moved."

He stared at her as the realization of what this could mean swept over him. Joy blazed over his features.

"Can you do it again?" Neither of them noticed that he'd lowered his voice to match hers, as if speaking above a whisper could jeopardize the miracle that might have just occurred.

"I don't know." She could hardly get the words out past the nervousness clogging her throat. "I don't know."

"Try. Just relax and concentrate." It didn't strike either of them that the two commands were mutually exclusive.

"What if I can't do it again?" she got out. Tension had made her voice thin.

"You can." He sounded so absolutely confident that she felt her own confidence take a bound upward. "Just try."

"I can't look," she said, her eyes neverleaving his. "You look."

"You couldn't talk me out of it." He grinned at her as if there was no doubt about the outcome of the next few seconds; as if her entire future wasn't on the line here. She wanted to hit him and she wanted to cling to him. Since she couldn't seem to get her fingers un-peeled from his shoulders, the latter course seemed easier.

"Give it a shot, Charity."

Easy for him to say. His whole life wasn't about to be decided. She closed her eyes, too nervous to even think of offering up a prayer. It was a simple thing, really. She'd been moving her legs all her life without giving it a thought.