A Forever Christmas(44)

The rush he was experiencing was very nearly overpowering and stronger than anything he had ever encountered.

It was as if he had never desired a woman before, never wanted to make love with a woman to this degree before.

Never loved before.

The single four-letter word sliced at him, making him even more fearful.

And yet, short of the world coming to an end, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from making love with her.

And maybe not even then.

* * *

ANGEL REALIZED THAT she was operating on pure instincts, following her body’s urgings. Following them to a place she was utterly certain she had never been to before.

With every touch of his hand to her body, with every kiss exchanged, she felt her body heating a little more, felt desire consuming her a little more. Each pass took a little more out of her, propelled her a little further into this new, mysterious and wondrous place that Gabe had carved out for her.

For them.

As far as she knew, this was a completely new experience for her, one that, somewhere deep in her soul, she’d somehow known was waiting for her.

But only with this man.

Gabe had saved her life in more ways than one. In effect, he had given her her life, and everything she was or would ever be was because of him. In return for that, he’d asked her for nothing.

Which was why she’d given him her heart.

As desire fueled by eagerness continued to grow within her, she found that both her clothes and his began to disappear, vanishing in a haze and shed almost as quickly as any small, inconsequential inhibitions that might have been lingering.

She wanted Gabe to take her, to make her body sing. To make love with her until she all but sobbed with relief.

Angel arched into his touch, stifling a cry of pure ecstasy as she felt his lips pass over her body.

At least twice, if not more, she’d felt as if she was stepping out of her own body and watching everything unfold before her.

A spectator at her own field of joy.

It was incredible.

Her body ached for him as Gabe, murmuring endearments, led her to the bedroom and laid her on the bed, then slowly slid his body along hers again until he was level with her and his eyes were looking into her depths.

Anticipation roared through her veins.

“Now,” she whispered hoarsely. “Now.”

But when Gabe grasped her, ever so lightly, by her shoulders, a sense of panic suddenly barreled in out of nowhere and exploded within her.

He felt her instantly stiffening beneath him, heard the change in her breathing. It was rapid now, not from any sort of anticipation of pleasure but from direct fear. Exercising what was quite possibly the very greatest effort of restraint of his life, Gabe forced himself to stop, and drew back.

His eyes searched her face for a clue. Angel seemed terrified, he realized. Why? “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe,” she cried. Without his weight—and his hands—restraining her, she bolted upright, dragging air into her lungs like a near-drowning victim.

Gabe’s first instinct was to hold her in order to calm her, but he had a feeling that would only bring the opposite results. So he held himself in check until he could sort out exactly what had set her off and what was happening here.

He made the only logical assumption. “You remembered something, didn’t you?”

“No!”

The denial was automatic, as if she’d been quizzed about her reaction more than once before and this was the answer she gave time and time again. It was, he had a feeling, the expected answer.

But for who?

Angel drew in more air, this time more slowly as she struggled to get hold of herself. After a beat, calmer, she looked up at him.

“Yes,” she answered, bewildered and drained. Rocking, she locked her arms around herself. “He was forcing himself on me, holding my shoulders down so I wouldn’t fight him off.”

Angel’s mouth dropped open. She seemed as startled by what she’d just said as Gabe was to hear it.

“Who?” Gabe asked, trying his best not to press her too hard. He wanted her to think, to remember, and he knew she couldn’t if he cornered her. “Who was forcing himself on you, Angel?” he asked more gently.

“I don’t know.” The frustration was back, spilling out in her tears. “I don’t know,” she repeated. Angel closed her eyes, but there was nothing. Opening them again, she exhaled a shaky breath as she dragged her hand through her hair. “I can’t see him, can’t seem to make him out.”