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a mental note to have it checked out. He held on to the door for support, determined to see this through. "Francesca, we have to decide what we're going to do about Skyler. I doubt very much if her father left her a thing, and from what he said he's her only relative."

Francesca turned immediately to face him. "She'll be well taken care of. I intend to become her legal guardian. I've promised her I'd be there for her."

Brice threw his hands up in the air in total exasperation. "You can't do that, Francesca. There you go again, trying to save every wounded soul in the world. You aren't responsible for this girl. You don't even know her. She could turn out just like her father. She'll need therapy for the next twenty years."

"Brice - " Francesca sounded as if she was on the verge of tears. Taking a deep breath, she calmly tried to reason with him. "What's the matter with you?"

He made an attempt to get himself back together. "I know you want to help this girl; God knows I want to help her too, but we can only go so far. She needs professional help, not the two of us."

"So what do you suggest, Dr. Renaldo?" Gabriel asked softly, his voice gentle.

There was nothing gentle in his still, watchful eyes. They reminded Brice of a predator's. A wolf with deadly intent. The look gave Brice an eerie feeling. He struggled to maintain his composure. "I suggest she be left to the professionals. There are people who deal with this sort of thing. If Francesca wants, she can donate money."

Francesca looked at Brice. "I gave her my word, Brice. She came back because she believed in me."

"Then visit her every now and then. You don't owe her your life. We have plans together, Francesca. You can't make these kinds of decisions without me."

Gabriel stirred, a ripple of muscle, no more, but it was intimidating.

"I can see to the child, Francesca. I will remove the memory of your promise and replace it with my own. I will see to her care and happiness while you take your time deciding what you are going to do about this human. I do not wish to complicate your life any further than I have already, but like you, I cannot abandon the child." "I keep my promises, Gabriel."

Francesca shook her head. "I'm not going to argue, Brice. I'm too tired. I'm going to go out into the night and stare at the stars or something. I need fresh air. I gave Skyler my word. There is nothing else to say."

"I think there is," Brice snapped, angry that Gabriel was witnessing this argument between them. They rarely argued, but he couldn't keep quiet now. This teenager would affect their lives together. He was not taking a chance that a nutcase would be living in their home with them. No way. And Gabriel had to go.

Gabriel simply took the matter out of Francesca's hands. He could feel her exhaustion beating at him, the sadness in her, the overwhelming need to leave this confined space and be out in the open. Brice couldn't comprehend what she went through to heal his patients, what it took for Francesca to merge with them and know every detail of their lives, every moment of their suffering. It was beyond Brice's comprehension, but not Gabriel's.

With his arm around her shoulder he walked quietly out of the room, taking her with him, his hold gentle but implacable. Francesca hardly seemed to notice. She went with him willingly. Gabriel turned his head slowly, looking back over his shoulder as he glided silently from the room, his black eyes moving over Brice's face. His stare was merciless, relentless. For one moment his white teeth flashed in a humorless smile, exposing a glimpse of razor-sharp fangs.

Chapter Five

The breeze washed over Francesca's face as she looked up at the night sky. A thousand stars twinkled and glittered overhead. She inhaled to take in the crisp clean air, washing the hospital smell from her lungs. Gabriel walked unhurriedly through the streets, his stride slowing to match hers perfectly. He didn't talk, didn't demand answers, didn't dictate to her. He simply walked beside her, asking nothing of her.

She unerringly found the path to her favorite place, turning down narrow twisting lanes until the paved streets gave way to old-fashioned cobblestone. She followed the pattern up a small hill to a bridge spanning a small lake.

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