The only light on in the apartment was the Tiffany lamp in the kitchen. He found Gabrielle in her bed, her cheeks still damp with tears. Had they been for him or for the life she’d given up?
Filled with wonder by her beauty, he gazed down at the hair spread across the pillow like threads of gold. He traced the full curve of lips still pouty from the urgent kisses he’d stolen before her parents’ arrival. Such a passionate, giving lover. He’d never imagined such ecstasy was possible, not for anyone, much less him.
But, despite the optimism he’d felt with his parents and on the long ride home, he wondered fleetingly if he was wrong. Could this really last? After the initial period of adjustment, he and Gabrielle had lived together in almost perfect harmony for these past weeks. But he’d always felt the arrangement was temporary. It was as if she was simply on loan to him, as if she could be taken away at any instant and returned to her rightful place in the world.
Suddenly he wanted, no, needed a commitment. Until now Gabrielle had been the one in search of new goals and possibilities. He had encouraged the search, but done very little to assure his own place in her future. Tonight had changed that in some immeasurable way. The link between them, always unspoken, but always at the center of his thoughts, had to be forged now into something lasting. If he lost her after this, he knew with absolute certainty that he would never find a replacement to equal her.
He brushed her cheek with a gentle caress, then slipped from the bed. He needed movement to keep pace with his thoughts. He glanced into his own sparsely furnished room and wondered if he’d ever be able to sleep there alone again. He wandered through the living room, touching the tables she had refinished with such love, the sofa she had spent days cleaning until the fabric was almost as bright as new. He paused at the round oak table, still set for a dinner that had very nearly caused him to run from the one thing that would make his life complete: Gabrielle’s love.
He touched the china, the crystal, the silver, the linen napkins. All bore the unmistakable mark of wealth and good taste. Yet Gabrielle had seemed perfectly content for all this time with cheap plates and stainless steel utensils. She had adapted to his life-style with an ease and willingness that astounded him now that he saw this new evidence of what she’d been used to. Even more remarkable was the fact that with the trappings of money so close at hand, she had never once imposed them on him. Until last night, when she had wanted to do something special for the all-important first meeting between him and her parents.
His own compromises had been far less. In fact he’d done nothing to change his way of life to accommodate hers. If anything, he had taken advantage of her loss of income as a way of keeping her his economic equal. Consciously or unconsciously, he had been testing Gabrielle, waiting for her to fail, waiting for the moment when she railed at their modest life-style and demanded more. It made him sick to think how unfair he’d been.
So, tell her, he thought, staring out the window. Expose your own vulnerabilities for a change. Ask her to get married and see if she’ll run or stay. It was, of course, the ultimate test.
As he peered into the darkness, telling himself it might be too soon to talk about a lasting, forever kind of love, too risky to make plans for the future, he saw the first flakes of snow drifting down. For the first time in his life, he saw them not as the promise of back-breaking chores, but as a hint of magic and beauty that had to be shared.
He went back to the bedroom, sat on the edge of the bed and shook Gabrielle gently. “Wake up.”
A smile played across her lips, but her eyes remained tightly shut.
“Gaby.”
“Mmm.”
“Wake up. I want to show you something.”
“You’re back,” she murmured with quiet surprise.
“I’m back,” he confirmed.
“I’m glad.” Her hand, still warm from resting beneath her cheek, crept into his and clung. Then she sighed contentedly and closed her eyes again.
“Sweetheart, wake up.”
“Is it morning?”
“No.”
She blinked, tried to focus her gaze, then patted his cheek. “Go back to sleep.”
He shook his head and grinned. He went back into the living room where he’d tossed his jacket across a chair. Then he came back and pushed open her window. He wrapped the covers securely around Gabrielle and scooped her up in his arms. She nuzzled against his neck, murmuring her contentment. The brush of her lips against his skin almost made him forget his goal. It would be very easy to climb back into bed with her and go about waking her in an entirely different way.
But tonight was about more than their bond of physical love. It deserved a special kind of magic. Holding her tightly, he stepped out onto the fire escape.
The blast of cold air snapped her awake at once. She stared around blankly, her gaze finally locking with his. “Paul, what are we doing on the fire escape in the dark?” She glanced down, her eyes widening. “When I’m only wearing a blanket?”
“You’ll see,” he promised evasively.
“Are you planning to throw me off the roof?” she inquired calmly as he began climbing up the fire escape.
He grinned. “Not unless you give me any problems.”
She nodded, yawning sleepily and nuzzling closer. “Good.”
When they were on the roof, he stared around at the scattered lights, the inky sky, then lifted his face for the soft touch of snowflakes melting against his skin.
