Embrace the Night

Page 198



"What I do is none of your concern."

He inclined his head, as if agreeing with her, and then he pulled a set of car keys out of his pocket and pressed them into her hand.

He really was the most stubborn, intriguing, handsome man she had ever met, Sarah mused as she slid behind the wheel of the car. A Jaguar. A brand-new Jaguar was worth a small fortune, and he was letting her take it, no questions asked. She thought of the six-year-old station wagon parked in the garage at home. Never had she imagined herself behind the wheel of a car like this.

She turned the key in the ignition and the engine hummed to life.

She drove slowly toward home, wondering what would happen if she just kept on driving, if she left her old life behind and lit out for parts unknown. Montana, maybe, or Colorado. Or maybe Alaska…

For a moment, it was tempting. She could sell the Jag, change her name, start a whole new life… but she was only kidding herself. She couldn't run far enough, couldn't hope to find a place where she could hide from her memories.

When she reached home, she moved the station wagon to the driveway, parked the Jag in the garage, and locked the door.

She thought of Gabriel as she tossed his car keys on the coffee table. What kind of man let a complete stranger borrow a $70,000 car? He hadn't even said anything about her bringing it back.

She glanced down at the dressing gown she still wore. Whom had it belonged to? He'd said he wasn't married or divorced. Did it belong to an old girlfriend, then? She caressed the soft velvet gown.

I decorated it for you.

His voice, soft and sensual, echoed in her mind. He had decorated a room in his house for her. Had he bought the dressing gown with her in mind, as well? How had he known pink was her favorite color?

She sat down on the sofa and switched on the TV. She didn't want to think, not about David and Natalie, not about Gabriel.

But she couldn't concentrate on the late show. It was an amusing romantic comedy starring Gene Wilder, but she was in no mood for romance, or laughter.

Reaching for the remote, she ran through the channels until she came to the country music station. She listened for a while, wondering why country songs were all so sad. It seemed nine out of ten were about love—lost love, unrequited love, old love. Maybe the whole world was unhappy, she thought. Maybe there was no such thing as happy-ever-after, not for her, not for anyone.

She stared at the television, not seeing the picture, not hearing the music. Instead, she saw the sharp planes and angles of Gabriel's face. His countenance was dark and beautiful, reminding her of a painting she had once seen of a fallen angel. Her mind replayed the hours she had spent with him, and she recalled the faint note of sorrow in his voice, the lingering aura of grief in the depths of his eyes. Was he mourning, too? He had told her he wasn't married or divorced. She wondered now if he had been married, if his wife had died, if that was why his eyes mirrored her own misery.