Bulletproof Bride - By Diana Duncan Page 0,23

him? "Baby, your brain might be clinging to denial, but your body sure as hell knows what it wants." He jumped up and stalked to the other side of the room. "Get packed."

She clambered to her feet. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

He prowled toward her, all lean muscles and dangerous grace. "This is not an optional exercise. Pack, or I'm hauling you out right now without whatever you need."

"I won't—" she started, then thought better of pushing him. He looked furious enough to follow through, and she had no doubt who would win. Provoking a confrontation was foolish. Pivoting, she marched to the closet and grabbed a new suitcase, purchased for her honeymoon. She threw it on the bed, and began flinging in clothing at random.

An echoing note from her baby grand piano made her jerk her head up. He was seated at the oak bench. "What do you play?"

"Music," she snapped.

"Don't be mad." Looking as lost and bewildered as she felt, he gave her a shaky smile. "I couldn't have stopped myself from kissing you right then if my life had depended on it." He cleared his throat and his gaze slid away. "I was out of line. I apologize."

Confusion swirled through her, her muddled feelings tangled in a knot. She shoved a taupe sweater on top of the growing pile. "I'm promised to another man. A good man. You can't just kiss me whenever you get the urge. I need to be able to trust you."

"You can trust me, Tessa." He returned her gaze, his jade eyes dark with suppressed emotion. He held up a two-fingered salute. "I won't kiss you again. Scout's honor."

"You were a Boy Scout?"

His gaze sidled away again. "Not exactly."

He looked so much like a little boy with his hand caught in the cookie jar, she couldn't help herself. She chuckled. "You are something else, Bond, Gabe Bond."

"I believe you used the word nice?" He wiggled his brows at her.

"I said oversexed gorilla." Shoving aside the sickness in her soul at the mess the criminals had made of her apartment, and the urgent desire to stay and set things right, she strode to the bathroom to pack her cosmetics. Her safety was more important.

"So, what do you play?" he called, plinking on the keys.

"Classical, mostly." She dropped makeup into a zippered bag. "Dale and I do violin and piano duets in performances Mother Winters organizes. Lucille has a wide circle of wealthy acquaintances and we raise money for children's charities."

"You like stuffy classical junk?"

"I don't dislike it, and classical is what that crowd wants to hear." She returned to the main room.

"What sends you soaring? What do you play when you can let go and pound out what you want?" He hit a discordant chord, making her wince. "You ever cut loose, Tessie? Go wild?"

She avoided the uncomfortable question. Tessa Beaumont didn't do wild. "I need to water my plants before we leave."

As Gabe rose from the piano bench, the phone rang. His eyes sparked a warning. "Let the machine pick up."

She huffed out a sigh, but obeyed.

"My dear, are you there?" Lucille's refined voice, tight with panic, broke into the room. "It's another disaster—"

She snatched up the receiver. "Mother Winters, what's wrong? Has something happened to Dale?"

"You are home, thank goodness! It's Frederick. He absconded with the money from his business and fled the country. The deposits were paid, but the balances are gone. We'll never book another wedding coordinator at this date!" Lucille's voice rose. "What are we going to do? The wedding is ruined!"

Oh, no, another glitch. A big one. Maybe Mel was right and fate had again intervened to stop her. Tessa banished the horrifying thought and hurried to soothe her future mother-in-law. "We'll confirm the details and repay the balances in person. Let's get together with Mel. Between us, we can fix it."

"Excellent idea." Lucille calmed. "We can meet at the club, at six."

Ignoring Gabe's frown, Tessa glanced at her watch. "Six?"

Gabe shook his head in an adamant no.

"Fine, I'll see you then." After a quick goodbye, Tessa hung up.

He stalked over to her. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Our wedding coordinator flew the coop. It's an emergency."

"Great. Just what I need." His forehead creased in a pained expression. "You mentioned watering your plants." He waved a hand. "I've been in jungles with less foliage. I'll help, or this could take all day."

Thank heavens whoever had searched her apartment hadn't touched her precious plants. "I love plants. I

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