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“Sort of, but—”
“You have other questions.” It was a statement of fact.
Jessi detected no impatience in his tone.
“Frankly, yes, a few other questions have popped into my head.”
“Ask them. We have fifteen minutes to spare.”
“Okay....” She took a deep breath and selected one of the many queries tumbling about unanswered in her head. “For one thing, I’m still a little confused about my role in all this. Why can’t August Taylor’s wife just make you guys some sandwiches or something when you get hungry? For that matter, why can’t you make your own? Anyone—including my four-year-old—can slap a slice of bologna between a couple of pieces of bread.”
“I’ve wondered about that myself,” Gabe admitted. “I mean, if more people were going to be involved—if a photographer or a bunch of technicians were tagging along—I could see the need for a cook, couldn’t you?”
“Of course, but that isn’t the case.”
“No, it isn’t.” He shrugged, for all appearances as bewildered by their employer’s eccentric demands as Jessi, if not as worried about them. “What was Elaina’s theory about all this? Assuming you discussed it with her...”
“So many times that she was beginning to get a little impatient with me.” Jessi gave him a rueful smile. “You know that old saying about looking a gift horse in the mouth...? Elaina knows that by heart—and by now, so do I.”
Gabe grinned. “So she thinks you should quit worrying about how easy the job sounds?”
“I believe her words were ‘take the money and run.”’
“Great advice since I can’t answer that question, either. Now...any other concerns?” He sat on the edge of the bench, obviously ready to spring to his feet and head to the restaurant.
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” Jessi said, gently pushing his shoulder with her free hand to indicate that he might as well settle back and get comfortable again. With a soft sigh of resignation, he did just that. “I can’t get a handle on August Taylor. Why do you think a man like him would have this burning need to hunt for lost treasure that may not even exist? I mean, he’s already established himself as an archeologist and a writer. This just seems so...so undignified, not to mention a tad far-fetched.”
Absently, Gabe stroked Jessi’s hand, which he still held. She wondered if he’d forgotten it.
“You know that this expedition is the result of a book Taylor wrote on ghost towns, Native American myths and western folklore, don’t you?”
Jessi nodded, well aware, thanks to one of Elaina’s many briefings, that the archeologist-turned-journalist had already done enough research on the topics to produce a lavishly illustrated coffee-table book. “Yes, and I’ve wondered why the shift in focus. I mean, the chances of your really finding long lost treasure are probably slim to none.”
“If not less,” Gabe wryly agreed. “My own personal theory is that this impulsive quest has more to do with the poor reviews of the book and the stories in the latest tabloids than with any real desire to find gold or whatever.” Now he dropped her hand, but only so he could use his hands to place his next words, like a headline, in the sky. ‘“Is August Taylor All Washed Up?’”
“I read that. At the time I thought it was cruel.”
At once, Gabe arched an eyebrow at her as if questioning her reading tastes.
Jessi ignored him. “And now that I think about it, there was another headline, too, something about his wife, Shari, and her tennis coach.”
“An affair or two have been rumored, I believe. That’s a natural assumption, I expect. She’s quite young—less than half his age.”
“Which brings me to my third and last question—”
“Last?” He gazed longingly toward the restaurant.
“Last,” Jessi replied, biting back a smile. Clearly the way to this Washingtonian’s heart was through his stomach. That would be good news to a gourmet cook such as herself... if she were trying to win his heart, which she most definitely wasn’t. “Is Shari’s bad reputation the reason we had to get married? I mean, Elaina did make up that story about our living together for two years. Why the need for a wedding?”
“I figure one of two reasons—either Elaina’s a lousy liar or our mythical cohabitation wasn’t enough for him, and he wanted some hard evidence of commitment. Either way, it’s clear that he doesn’t trust his wife, probably the reason she’s being dragged along on this expedition, and, now that I think of it, maybe even the reason you are, too. He’s afraid she won’t behave herself around an unattached guide as dashing as me and wants you along to keep her occupied and act as chaperon.” He suddenly grinned again. “Or maybe we’re all wet on this thing. Maybe she doesn’t trust him, and it’s the shapely cook’s marital status, not the guide’s, that’s to blame for these mandatory nuptials—a sort of loop of suspicion.”
Jessi groaned and pressed her fingertips to her temples. “Oh please stop. You’re giving me a headache.”
“The point is moot anyway.... We’ve tied the knot.” For a heartbeat, he looked as if that knot might be part of a noose that now choked him. Then he gave her a half smile that could have meant anything. “You haven’t said how you like the ring.”
At a loss, Jessi frowned. “What ring?”
“The one on your finger. The one I bought for you today.”
“Oh, of course. I’m sorry.” For the first time, Jessi took a good look at her third finger, left hand. She saw a wide gold band as expected, but mounted on it was an exquisite, rectangular-cut amethyst. Stunned, she raised her gaze to Gabe. “I can’t believe you bought this.”
“I know a diamond is traditional, but when I saw that stone and realized it matched your eyes, I had to have it.”
“My God, Gabe. We’re only going to be married for a few weeks. What will you do with it after that?”
“What will you do with mine?” he countered, raising his left hand and spreading his fingers as if to remind her of the band she’d bought for him. It looked too plain now. Embarrassingly cheap.
“It doesn’t matter. It didn’t cost one fourth of what this one did.” Jessi eyed her ring, which sparkled even in the poor lighting. She’d never had anything so gorgeous—she already dreaded giving it back.
Gabe frowned, obviously picking up on her heartfelt distress. “I put it on my plastic, okay? A delayed payment plan that was part of some early Christmas promotion or something. The first charge won’t even come through until February, next year. I’ll return the ring long before that.”
“You think?”
“Sure, and if it doesn’t work out that way...what the heck?
Call it a birthday present—I know you have one coming up shortly—” he held up his hands to ward off her immediate protest ”—or consider it payment for putting up with my shenanigans. You’ll probably more than earn that ring before this is over, you know. Marriage to me—even this fake one—won’t be easy.”
Jessi opened her mouth to argue but never got the chance since Gabe touched his forefinger to her lips to halt the tumbling words.
“It’s done, Jessi. Can we just let it rest?”
“If that’s what you really want...”
“It’s what I want.”
She shrugged her shoulders in reluctant cooperation.
Visibly relieved, Gabe flashed that full-fledged, killer smile of his. “Good. Now can we please go eat the dinner Elaina graciously arranged for us? I’m so hungry, I’m weak.”
Weak, did he say?
Well, so was Jessi...but not with hunger.
It was the man who made her weak—every golden-tanned, muscled-and-toned, just-too-gorgeous inch of him. And when he reached out his hand to tug her to her feet, Jessi’s heart thumped hard once, then settled into an erratic rhythm she suspected might haunt her for the duration of their brief marriage.
Chapter Two
The European-style restaurant, replica of a medieval Spanish castle, was one that Jessi had read about in a gourmet cooking magazine. She knew it had a four-star rating and that the price of even the simplest fare would set her back a week’s salary, had she been footing the bill.
But she wasn’t. Elaina Rivera, whom August Taylor had first contacted two weeks ago about his special employment needs, was treating tonight. Not for the first time, Jessi wished Elaina were there. Chitchat wasn’t Jessi’s forte.
Luckily Gabe appeared to have the gift of gab, a fact proved several times during the moments following their being seated at a table for two located in a glassed-in balcony that overlooked the city. The waiter brought champagne, complimentary for newlyweds, and a menu. Although her jittery stomach murmured mild protest at the idea of food, Jessi perused the list of the culinary delights from which she could choose.
“I’m a little out of my league here,” Gabe said after a cursory glance at the elaborate menu. “Why don’t you order for both of us?”
Jessi did.
Once alone with Gabe again, she raised her stemmed glass. “To our, um, lucrative partnership.”
“I’ll certainly drink to that.” They sipped, set down their glasses and stared at one another. “Feeling better now?”
“Oh, I never felt bad, exactly. More nervous. I’ve been divorced for longer than three years now and once swore I’d never marry again unless I found the perfect man. That’s the only kind that might be worth another promise of forever to my way of thinking.”
Gabe winced. “I have to tell you that I’m far from perfect.”
“Since forever is not in question here—wedding vows or not—that really doesn’t matter,” Jessi told him, adding, “I wouldn’t mind hearing your faults, though. Just so I’m prepared.”
Gabe nodded at the sense of that. “For starters, I can be very intense. Though tonight I may sound flippant about our expedition, the moment we join August Taylor on Monday, I’ll be a different man.”
“Are you saying that you actually believe there’s a chance we’ll find buried treasure?”
“No. I’m saying I’m being paid a hell of a lot of money to keep an open mind. Besides, I’ve been a tracker and guide for too many years to think I’ve seen it all. You just never know what’s waiting around the next bend or over the next hill.”
Jessi sipped her champagne while she digested his words. “So you’re dedicated to duty, huh? Well, I’ve just enough experience with men who aren’t—my ex-husband, to name one—to consider that a plus instead of a minus. What are your other so-called character flaws?”
“I’m a grump before my morning coffee. I’m a slob around the house. I talk too much and listen too little... or so my ex always told me.”
“You’re divorced? Somehow I missed that little detail.”
“That’s because it wasn’t on my fact sheet. I didn’t think it would make any difference to anyone. I’ve been single ten years now.”
“Any children?”
“No, thank goodness.”
Jessi frowned. “You don’t like them?” August Taylor had graciously agreed to let Anna Kate go along on the expedition, probably because it would be little more than an extended camping trip for the women. If Gabe didn’t like children, their “home life” might be less than ideal and a source of stress for Jessi’s daughter.
“I love kids, and I think they’re the innocent victims of any divorce. I’m personally glad I didn’t father any because my ex-wife would almost certainly have gotten custody, thanks to my gypsy lifestyle at the time and in the ten years since. All that’s going to change now, of course.”
“In what way?”
“Elaina didn’t share my motives for agreeing to this expedition?”
“Actually, I never asked. I assumed you must have creditors breathing down your neck, just as I do.”
“No past expenditures, just future ones. First, the purchase of some acres on the Snake River in Washington. They now belong to a friend named Jerry Clark who has a canoe rental, café and sporting goods store on them. When he told me he was ready to retire, I scraped together enough earnest money for him to hold the land. What I get from August plus a loan from the bank will cinch the deal and put me in business. As for the second expenditure, well, it’s of a whole different nature so I can’t really predict how much money I’ll need. God only knows what it costs to adopt and raise a kid these days.”
“You’re going to adopt a child?”
“I’m going to try. He’s my nephew. Son of my adopted sister, who was shot during a convenience store robbery three months ago in L.A.”
“Oh, Gabe, I’m so sorry,” Jessi murmured, noting how a flush stained his cheeks and how his eyes brimmed. Clearly this was a wound that had not healed. “How old is the boy?”
“Ten.”
“And where is he now?”
“In foster care. Kids his age aren’t in high demand adoption-wise. Most folks want babies.”
“And his father?”
“Long gone just like my real one.” Gabe gave Jessi a wry smile. “All I know about my mother is that she gave me up when I was born because my father wouldn’t marry her. I was one of two kids adopted by a military man and his wife. He died when I was ten and Geena, er, my adopted sister, was four. My new mom, who apparently hadn’t wanted to adopt children in the first place, remarried six months later and pretty much ignored Geena and me. I hated the guy and wanted to leave then, but I couldn’t afford it, of course, until I turned eighteen, when I got a job as dispatcher for a rescue team in the Cascades. One of the guys proved to be a strong father figure. He really put me on the right track.”
“Jerry Clark?”
Gabe nodded and smiled. “You’re very quick. I’d better remember that.” He turned the glass around and around in his fingers. “I just wish there’d been a role model around for Geena. Unfortunately, there wasn’t, so when she turned sixteen, she ran off with some guy who promised her the moon, but gave her nothing more than a hard time and a son. She finally found the guts to leave him, but her life went downhill from there.
“I sent her money when I could,” he continued. “She wouldn’t let me help any other way.” His voice sounded oddly bereft of emotion at this point, almost as if he were numb on the subject. “But no one is going to stop me from making a home for her son Ryder as soon as possible. Meanwhile I have to be content with a weekly phone call and one visit per month since he’s still in L.A., which is too far away from my place in Washington for anything more.”
“You think a judge will give you custody?”
Gabe’s eyes flashed, revealing the stubborn side she had heretofore only suspected. “I’m all the family that kid has, I’m willing, and soon I’ll be settled down with a viable business. Why the hell wouldn’t I get custody?”
Jessi could think of several reasons right away, not the least of which would be their own annulment. She said nothing, however.
Gabe smirked just a little when she didn’t speak, obviously assuming he’d made his point. “Now that we’ve settled that, I believe it’s your turn to confess, Jessi Dillard.”
Startled by his use of her new name—a cold reminder that this wasn’t just dinner with an interesting stranger—Jessi could only stammer, “I—I don’t have anything to confess.”
At that moment, the waiter walked up with a tray of hors d’oeuvres. Grateful for the diversion, Jessi selected for both of them again and then thanked the man, who left them alone again too soon.
“These, um, look scrumptious,” she murmured. “Try one.”
Gabe glanced from Jessi to the appetizer she offered, then back to Jessi again. He arched an eyebrow at her. “As my wife, you stand to inherit if I die of food poisoning, don’t you?”
Jessi actually laughed and marveled that she could respond so easily to his teasing in her present state of nervousness. Clearly what she still didn’t know about this man’s character might fill the pages of a book, yet the one trait she was sure of, his sense of humor, almost put her at ease.
Almost.
“Shall I be the royal taster?” With a hand that still wasn’t steady, Jessi picked up one of the artful delicacies and took a bite, savoring the pungent spices.
“Good?” Gabe asked.
“Divine.”
“I’m a meat and potatoes man myself.”
“Are you telling me that’s all I’m going to be able to cook on this trip?”
