"If I recall, you're the one who decided to postpone dinner."
"I regarded this as more important." She reached for the veil. "Where's the kitchen?"
"Good Lord, don't you know you're supposed to be languid after sex?"
"Who made that rule? I feel alive. I want to go out and move mountains."
He looked at her glowing face and then smiled. "Not now. The mountains are a good hundred miles away. Stay where you are. I'll bring you something." He got out of bed and went toward the closet. "It's chilly and at least I have a robe to wear."
"I'm not cold."
He shrugged on the white terry robe. "No, you're not, thank God. I'll be back in a minute."
She watched the door close behind him before jumping out of bed and running to the closet. She grabbed a white shirt from a hanger and slippedit on. It came almost to her knees, but at least it covered her. She rifled through a bureau drawer and came up with a pair of white crew socks and pulled them on.
She padded out of the bedroom and wandered down the hall until she heard the sound of metal against metal and zeroed in on the kitchen. Gabe was standing in front of the stove pouring an egg mixture into a frying pan.
"Can I help?"
He glanced over his shoulder. "Don't you ever obey orders?"
"Not if I can help it. Besides, I'm too restless to sit still and be waited on."
His gaze traveled over her. "That shirt looks better on you than it does on me."
"Then it must look terrible on you." She made a face. "I hate cutesy outfits. They make me feel like Debbie Reynolds or Sandra Dee."
"What do you know about them? I'd think they'd be before your time."
"Are you kidding? The only movie theaters I got to go to when I was growing up were those in outback villages where Rudolph Valentino was still considered a current heartthrob." She moved to stand by his shoulder and peered down at the omelet. "That looks terrific. I'm so glad you cancook. I'm terrible at it. But I can make coffee," she offered.
"Then do it. The coffeemaker's on the counter over there. The coffee's in the canister." He took plates from a shelf in the cabinet and set them on the table. "I take it I'm going to do all the cooking while we're here."
"If you don't want chronic indigestion." She poured water into the coffeemaker. "Jed tried to teach me once, but he gave up. He says there's something seriously wrong with my culinary aptitude. I just don't have the gift. If you cook, I'll wash dishes."
"Sounds fair." With a spatula he lifted the omelet onto a plate, cut it neatly in half, and shifted one half to another plate. "Sit down and eat. You're going to need your strength later."
"Braggart." She could feel the heat in her cheeks as she sat down at the table. It was weird how he could make her blush when no one had been able to accomplish that feat in years. "You'd better be the one to shore up your reserves. I've decided I'm a nymphomaniac."
"Then you've decided wrong," he said quietly as he started to eat. "You're loving and sweet and passionate and I have bottomless reserves where you're concerned."
Her smile faded as she looked at him. "That's… nice."
"More than nice. Extraordinary. You're not eating." He looked up and smiled faintly. "Protein, remember."
"Sure I am." She picked up her fork and started on the omelet. "And you're the one who needs the protein." She had a sudden thought. "But you can't have any of that coffee. Why didn't you remind me before I started that pot? You need to sleep tonight."
"My dear, if I don't sleep tonight, I guarantee I'll never sleep again."
"No coffee," she said firmly.
He changed the subject. "What debt?"
She looked at him in confusion at the question that had come out of nowhere.
"I suppose there's no big secret now that you've told me everything else about your background." He paused before asking, "What debt did you owe me?"
"My life," she said simply. "Mekhit, Turkey, 1983."
He shook his head. "I was in Mekhit, but I-"
"You don't even remember. I didn't think you would. You dug me out of the ruins of acollapsed hotel after the earthquake. I knew I was only one of a score of people you helped during those two days, but you can understand why you were pretty prominent in my memory after that. You stayed with me and held my hand." She shivered even now at the memory. "It was the worst night of my life. The darkness-"
"Was like a coffin," he quoted. "I do remember. But your name was Anita."
"Anita Valdez. Spanish passport."
"And when we pulled you out…" His gaze went to her hair. "You were pretty messed up, but I'm sure your hair was dark."
"Vegetable dye. I had to look Spanish."
"I felt guilty about leaving you to go to the hospital alone."
"You did more than anyone could expect. The entire town was a disaster area. I knew you had to go and help dig out other people."
He grimaced. "You make me sound like Superman. I was only doing what anyone else would do in an emergency like that. I did drop by the hospital the day before I left Mekhit to see how you were."
"I didn't know that." She smiled radiantly. "That was nice of you."
"They said you disappeared after they bandaged your arm."
"Evan was there. He saw them put me in the ambulance and showed up at the emergency room to take me away. The deal had fallen through and we left Mekhit that night."
"To another deal… another country," he said bitterly.
"Yes." She finished her omelet and sat back in her chair. "But after that night I kept track of you. It wasn't hard. You were on the way up and were fairly visible." She chuckled. "And, in a way, I wasn't joking when I called you my Pygmalion. I first became interested in becoming a reporter because of you. I had a big-time crush on you for a long time and thought everything you did was the cat's pajamas."
He made a face. "Where on earth do you come up with those archaic expressions?"
"I like them. The twenties slang was very colorful. Bee's knees, cat's pajamas…"
"I'm beginning to like them myself. They suit you." He put down his fork, met her gaze, and said with deliberate emphasis, "But not as much as I suit you. To use one of your phrases, we fit like the cat's pajamas. Maybe that's why we were brought together at Mekhit."
"Don't tell me you believe in fate too?" she scoffed. "First tradition and now fate?"
"Why not? I do believe some people are meant to be together," he said softly. "And if you get lucky enough to find that person, you'd be stupid to let them go."
She would hold on forever.
She had believed in fate that night. She had found something strong and sure and unshakable in that volatile world. But the resolution she had made in Mekhit must be broken. By clinging to him to complete herself, she could hurt him.
"Gripes, you're sentimental," she said. "But I can't totally knock this togetherness bit. You really know how to show a girl a good time." She stood up and swaggered toward the door. "Dump the dishes in the sink. I'll do them in the morning. I have enough protein in me now to keep you interested for a while." She slanted him a stern glance over her shoulder. "And don't you dare touch that coffee."
"You didn't sleep again," Ronnie accused as she strolled with Gabe in the garden the next morning after breakfast. "So much for me exhausting you."
"I dozed a little," Gabe said.
She gazed at him worriedly. "You don't look it. I think you're just saying mat to keep me from nagging you."
"It's entirely possible. You're persistent enough to make a saint try misdirection." He shot her a glance. "And very caring for a woman who only wants my body."
"I do care about you." She looked away from him. "I told you I liked you. You're not stupid enough to believe I'd have sex with a man I didn't like."
"No, you wouldn't tell me such an arrant lie. Because you're not stupid either." His hand closed on hers. "Though I've noticed a distinct muddleheadedness on occasion."