Fallen (Seven Deadly Sins #2)(60)
Author: Erin McCarthy

“Come lie down with me,” he said, reaching for her hand. “I need some sleep.”

Apparently that was all Gabriel could offer her.

He had warned her, and she had harbored no illusions that it could be more, really, when she had thought that she could have an affair with him, some hot sex to feel good, to forget. But Gabriel didn’t do casual sex, that was obvious, and maybe she didn’t either. If she never had before, why the hell would now be different, when she was actually emotionally engaged, intrigued, longing for Gabriel in ways she couldn’t have him? Sex would be disastrous, would shatter her resistance, strip away her barriers, show him the truth about what she was feeling.

She suspected neither one of them was ready for that.

But Gabriel could and was offering her companionship, a quiet and safe place to stay, to rest.

She took his hand and walked to his bedroom with him.

Chapter Fifteen

He disappointed her.

He could sense that. Sara wanted more. She wanted him to touch her, to make love to her.

Gabriel wanted to do that. Both his body and his soul yearned for that connection with her. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he stripped away Sara’s strength, if he made her miserable and desperate and clinging.

He wanted to give her everything, to let her know how he felt, but he didn’t know how, and his mind was distracted, swirling with the implications of what she had told him about her connection to Anne Donovan.

“What time is it?” she asked as she climbed onto the bed, peeling the comforter back.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. We’re just going to lie down.” He knew that Sara would worry about the time, would mentally tick away the minutes as she lay there and couldn’t find sleep, so he didn’t want her to think about it. In the past ten days she had probably slept two or three hours a night, and none the night before. He wanted her to relax, to fall deep into sleep.

Because when she woke up he was going to have to tell her about Rafe. Or at least the portion he could tell her.

Sara sighed when her head hit the pillow. “I feel like I’ve run a marathon. My joints ache.”

“Tension and alcohol. Not a good combination. I shouldn’t have let you drink last night.” He debated taking his jeans off, but figured that was an incredibly bad idea. He settled for kicking off his shoes and peeling his T-shirt off before getting in bed. Flicking his hair out of his eyes, he realized he could probably use a haircut. But he could never be bothered. Though he wondered what Sara thought of his hair, if she thought it was too long.

“Apparently there were a lot of things I shouldn’t have done last night.”

Sara was lying on her side, facing away from him so he couldn’t see her face, but her tone was wry, slightly embarrassed, and Gabriel didn’t like it. “Hey.” He was going to touch her hip, but stopped himself. “Don’t regret anything else. I don’t. You’re a beautiful, sensual woman.” And he wanted to bury himself so deep inside her that she would scream with pleasure.

“Thanks.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “But come on, you have to admit, I have reason to feel embarrassed.”

“No, you don’t.” Hand behind his head, he stared at her, frustrated, wanting her to understand. He f**king would if he could. It wasn’t her. It was totally and completely him. “See if you can get out of your lease,” he said. “Stay here until you’re ready to go home to Florida.”

Sara didn’t say anything, just stared at him, her mouth slightly open, tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip. “Why?” she asked finally.

“Because I want you to.”

“Okay.” Then she sighed again. “I want to sleep. Why won’t it ever come to me?”

“Your mind is too busy, too crowded.” Hell, he could see the wheels turning every time he looked at her. Unable to resist, he reached out and stroked the back of her hair. It was soft, springier than his, and his finger got caught in a curl.

“Do you sing?” she asked, shifting back slightly so she was closer to him.

The bed was getting warm and he was getting sleepy himself. “I love to sing. I’m just not all that good at it.”

“But you’re an artist, a musician. I bet you sing better than you think you do.”

He wasn’t being modest. He really couldn’t sing. “No, I don’t.” No matter how hard he tried, his voice was flat. He could hear music, could coax the piano to provide the right sound, but his voice was incapable of hitting the notes.

“You have to sing for me sometime,” she said, her words trailing off into a big yawn. “I want you to play ‘Beth’ by Kiss on the piano and sing it for me.”

Gabriel laughed softly. “I can do that if we download the sheet music.” She’d regret it, but it wouldn’t be a bad regret, not like another could be if he gave her what they both really wanted. “Why Kiss?”

“Because it’s the first song that popped into my head that has piano in it. My mom was a huge Kiss fan.”

“I see.”

“Gabriel?”

“Yes?” He forced himself to remove his hand from her head, though he snuck in one last stroke, pulling her blond strands out in front of him and letting them fall down onto her back.

“Nothing.” Her words were mumbled.

Disappointed, wishing she had said whatever she’d been thinking, he waited. Then realized that Sara was in the first vestiges of sleep, little rushes of air coming from her mouth. Her body was tense still, shoulders tight, arms clasped in front of her, knees jutting out.

She wouldn’t sleep long like that.

When he did a cursory sweep of her thoughts, sort of a surface scan, not wanting to violate her privacy, Gabriel saw and felt nothing but anxiety from her. She was worried. About Rafe. About him, Gabriel. About the kitten. About Rochelle. About herself. About her friend Jocelyn. About her mother’s father. About her job. About Anne Donovan.

It was no wonder she couldn’t sleep.

So Gabriel leaned over Sara and touched her forehead, her temple, caressing her cheek with his finger, quieting her worries, banishing her anxieties, filling her with warmth, with pleasant dreamy thoughts.

“I’ve fallen in love with you,” he whispered, brushing his lips across the bare skin of her shoulder where her tank top had slipped.

She gave a shuddery sigh in her sleep, and Gabriel reluctantly pulled back.