Gabriel's Gift by London Cait

Author:London, Cait [London, Cait]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2001-09-03T05:00:00+00:00

“I think that went well,” Miranda said later, as she stacked the teacups into the sink. “I don’t want any of them worrying about me. I couldn’t have done this in my mother’s home, but now that it’s over—I think I can manage. We should talk about ending this, Gabriel, you have to go on with your life, and I have to go on with mine. I’m more comfortable with people now, and I’m going to take pleasure in the broods my brother and sister are creating. You’ve been so kind. However you want this handled, I will do my best to—”

“‘Kind?”’ The word cut at her, his expression fierce and angry, surprising her. “I’m checking on the horses,” Gabriel stated curtly as though he couldn’t wait to escape the house, echoing with the sounds of women’s chatter. The sound said he’d had enough of women and of her—

Miranda turned to him and his look took her breath away, staking her hotly as if he wanted—She swallowed, her hands shaking so badly that she dropped the next cup into the dishwater. Gabriel had looked as if he’d wanted her desperately, as if he wanted to make love to her. The air hummed between them and she couldn’t move. She wanted to undress, to have him undress her. To feel his lips against her skin…The silence rocked with a primitive sensual beat…and when the fire in the heating stove crackled, she jumped, because the image of his tall body, gleaming and powerful rising over hers had seemed so real. She’d never been looked at like that, as if a man could devour her, claim her, never let her go….

She was misreading him, of course. Her body was coming to life and receiving wrong impressions. Gabriel’s actions had been kind and nothing more. He was tense because of the earlier strain, his home invaded. She tried to keep her voice even, concealing her uncertainty. “Yes, you’d better do that.”

By late evening, Gabriel hadn’t returned. Miranda had prepared dinner, baked bread and had finally admitted she was afraid for him. He was an experienced woodsman, but he’d never been late for dinner. Gabriel was a man who needed his privacy. Perhaps he was using the forest to soothe him. A “chinook,” a warm winter wind, howled fiercely around the house, a lonely sound like that of a lost soul. Perhaps it was his “woman in the smoke” calling to him. Perhaps he’d gone to see her.

Fletcher paced the house restlessly, whining and looking at the door, evidently wanting to be freed. He growled, his hackles raised. Once, he lifted his head and an eerie howl that spoke of his wolf’s blood iced Miranda’s skin, lifting the tiny hairs on her nape.

Leashing Fletcher, making certain he wouldn’t tear off into a possible wolf pack, Miranda made several trips down to the barn. As restless as the dog, she watched for Gabriel through the house’s windows. His tracks led off into the woods, following those of a horse.

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