watching puffy white clouds slowly move by. Sometimes, she imagined shapes within them of these powerful knights on mighty chargers who saved others.
The corners of her mouth tugged upward as she absorbed Gabe’s sleeping face. She took in his rugged features, trying to imagine his childhood, how horrible it had been on him. His drunken father had used him as a punching bag. He’d made sure to conceal the damage and bruises done by his fists and leather belt. And his father had made sure it was hidden from his mother, Grace. All he’d known as a kid was that fatherly love packed a fist and a punch. His father had sworn he’d kill his mother if Gabe ever breathed a word of his punishment to Grace. Bay couldn’t imagine how it would have affected her emotionally.
Tears gathered in her eyes momentarily as she imagined his past. A few dark strands lay across Gabe’s broad, lined brow. She wanted to reach out and gently tame them back into place. Bay knew if she did, he’d instantly awaken and become fully alert. On guard. Looking for an enemy. That’s what SEALs did; they took the fight to the enemy and they were always in harm’s way. They learned in BUD/S that five-minute combat naps could carry them for days without real sleep. Resisting the urge because she knew Gabe had just come out of intense training himself, Bay didn’t move. She wanted him to sleep.
Her fingers itched to touch his darkly haired chest, run her index finger across his full lower lip that knew how to bring her world into a fiery cauldron of hungry need for him alone. No one could love her to the depth and breadth that Gabe could love her. It was simply a part of his being able to touch not only her willing body, but gently hold her heart in his large, scarred hands and twine her soul with his own.
Drawing in a ragged breath, her body responded, knowing Gabe loved her on every possible level. How had she drawn such an incredible man like this to her? He was Sir Lancelot, and she was his Guinevere. He was a warrior. She was a healer. He knew combat, and so did she. And all they wanted was to find peace and sanctuary from a crazed world in the arms of one another.
Gabe shifted, his breathing changing.
Bay watched, mesmerized. SEALs had an almost telepathic and clairvoyant sense about them. They were such finely honed warriors in combat that their sixth sense was operational, much like an invisible radar moving three-hundred-and-sixty degrees around them all the time.
Gabe slowly emerged from sleep. He sensed her watching him, and although it wasn’t threatening, Gabe still felt her eyes—and her love—upon him.
His lashes fluttered. A soft smile played across her lips as Bay observed the slow opening of those drowsy forest-green eyes, now looking in her direction.
“I love waking up with you,” she whispered, leaning across Gabe, her breasts skimming his chest, her mouth grazing his. Bay kissed him chastely, with love, not with sex on her mind.
Gabe’s mouth gently took hers, his arms wrapping around her. He groaned and pulled her more tightly against him. She reveled in the strength and yet, the utter tenderness of his mouth cherishing hers. Bay drank in Gabe’s breath, like life feeding her, opening her heart even more. His hard, lean muscles flexed against hers, drowning in the splendor of his mouth, making her feel hunger for him all over again.
Easing back, Bay broke the kiss, drowning in his expression. He watched her, his hands framing her face, holding her prisoner. His pupils were large and black, a thin crescent of green surrounding them. Bay could feel Gabe coming awake on every level, absorbing his intensity, his powerful, consuming love for her.
“Can we do this every morning for the rest of our lives?” he rasped, smiling up into her sleepy features. Bay’s warmth, her womanly curves fit perfectly against his body. Her full mouth drew into a wry smile, her blue eyes sparkling.
“Soon,” she promised huskily.
Grunting, he released her for a moment, pushed himself into an upright position, the covers falling away to his hips. “Not soon enough,” Gabe growled, dragging Bay into his arms, guiding her head against his shoulder. Bay slid her arm around his waist. Nostrils flaring, he hungrily inhaled her sweet scent. Bay had a special fragrance, a natural one that sent him into a powerful sexual response.
Gabe knew she had to be sore from their lovemaking last night. He needed to hold off and let her relax. Today was for Bay. He’d been planning it in his mind for months since they’d been separated. Love, she had taught him, had so many aspects. Love wasn’t always about sex, although, God knew, Gabe always wanted to be in her, love her, make her smile and sigh and watch her eyes grow sleepy and sated because he’d love her so thoroughly and completely.
“Want a hot bath?” he asked, his lips pressed against her hair, the curls tickling him.
“Mmm, that sounds wonderful. Are you joining me?”
God, how he wanted to, but Gabe knew better. “No, you need some down time, baby. We went at it pretty hard last night.” And then he smiled. “Pardon my pun.” Gabe traded a boyish grin with her.
She sighed, closed her eyes and squeezed him. “I’ve never made love in a shower before.”
“You said you wanted to swim with the sharks.”
Laughing softly, Bay nodded. “So I did. It was my fault, but I’m not sorry. Are you?”
“Sorry for loving you?” Gabe pressed a kiss to her brow, the curls soft and silky around her temple. “Never. I’ll have to be dead and gone before that would happen.” A chuckle rumbled up through his broad chest.
“That’s true,” Bay whispered, turning her cheek to kiss the strong column of his neck. “A bath sounds perfect....”
“Then let me get it ready for you. Stay here and just rest. All right?”
Bay didn’t want to leave the circle of Gabe’s arms. His unselfish protection surrounded her and made her feel utterly loved. Pouting, Bay tipped her head back just enough to catch his lambent gaze. His green eyes glittered with lust for her. Instantly her body reacted, a slow heat spreading throughout her lower body once again.
In truth, she was sore. Gabe was a careful lover, and she knew he would live in a special agony if somehow he accidentally hurt her. He knew what pain was all about and was always concerned he’d hurt her. It had never happened, and Bay knew it never would, but Gabe didn’t. Childhood pain patterns, she knew, bled over into an adult’s life like a stain they could rarely erase from their being. The care burning in his eyes touched her deeply.
“Okay, call me when it’s ready?” His secrets were safe with her. Sometimes, Gabe was that scared little ten-year-old where she was concerned. She saw Gabe struggle every day with that unconscious knowledge that he’d never been good enough to really have been loved by his abusive father. To know he deserved to be hugged. To be told by his father that he was proud of him. To know that he didn’t carry his father’s sickness or need to hurt others. It was up to her to fill that void. Heal that deep wound within him.
As Gabe kissed her brow and then left their bed, Bay closed her eyes. She was afraid he’d see or sense her sadness for him, and she in no way wanted him to see her unhappy. He could easily misinterpret it, blame himself instead of blaming his father who imprisoned him in that terrible, lonely, loveless space no child should ever experience. Bay had promised herself long ago that she would love Gabe with all she had, replace that darkness with her light, heal that soul-stealing wound within him and make him whole once more. She knew she could do it with time. She’d seen her mother heal her father’s war wounds, so she knew it could be done with her patience and love for Gabe.
As
