21. Bella

21

BELLA

F or the next few days, I throw myself into working on the house with Agnes. We're getting closer to being finished—things that we ordered have started to come in, like tiles to replace the ones in the bathrooms that couldn't be salvaged, drapes, and furniture to replace what was too outdated or too damaged to keep. I can see it all coming together, and it would be the one bright spot in an otherwise dark and stressful time—if I didn't now know that it was all for the purpose of selling off the estate.

Still, the work distracts me—from a lot of things. It distracts me from the men who arrive from New York, fifteen more guards to add to the ones Gabriel already has watching the estate, sent by the don. It distracts me from how sleeping in bed next to Gabriel every night makes me feel, and how I wake up every morning with him pressed against me, wanting so badly to give in to all of the feelings rioting inside of me.

It distracts me most of all from the lingering dread, the feeling of waiting for the storm to break. If more men are here, that means Gabriel is anticipating an attack. Anticipating that something bad is coming, that Igor is going to make a move. And a part of me almost wishes he would just do it. Waiting for him to strike is almost a worse torture.

I think he knows that, and it's part of his game.

I can feel the same tension in Gabriel every time I'm around him—tension over the lingering threat, tension over everything unaddressed between us. I can see him remembering that brief kiss a few days ago in the bedroom, every time he looks at me, thinking of where else it could have gone. And I can't help thinking about it, too.

We haven't had sex again, but it's been close. Some mornings, I feel like I can barely stand not rolling over and pressing my mouth to his, wrapping myself around him and letting him do anything he might want to me. Some mornings, all I want to do is give in.

To just be his, for however long that lasts. Whatever that means. Even if it's not as much as I want—even if it breaks my heart in the end.

I remind myself that we're only sleeping in the same bed because he wants to keep an eye on me. Because he doesn't want to confuse the children any more than our hasty marriage—and likely, our separation after all of this—already will. It has nothing to do with feelings, and everything to do with practicality.

Just like everything else about our marriage.

So I throw myself into everything I can to stop myself from thinking about the two things constantly weighing on me—the threat of Igor, and my feelings for Gabriel. I work on the house, I go on runs, and I try to avoid being alone with Gabriel as much as possible. But no matter how hard I try to put distance between us, it feels like we're always drawn closer. When he looks at the work Agnes and I have done on the house and compliments it, when I see his gaze slide over me every time I walk into a room, when he smiles at me and whenever he draws me into a conversation—it all feels like an invisible thread, pulling us closer together.

I don't understand why he's dismantling his family estate. As someone who grew up without anyone other than my father for family, in a cold and unfeeling home, I can't imagine wanting to let go of something with so much warmth and history. But I also know that it's none of my business. I don't need to understand, because as much as I love it here, as close as I've grown to Gabriel and his children—I'm not really a part of it. Gabriel promised me that he would end the marriage once I'm safe, if that's what I want.

But no matter how often I tell myself that that freedom is what I want, that I never wanted to be trapped in an arranged marriage and still don't, especially if I have feelings for the man I'm married to that he doesn't have for me—it gets harder and harder for me to believe.

Gabriel gave me all the tools to be free. And once we go back to New York, with Igor gone, that's what I'll be for the first time in my life, if I leave. I'll be independent, with my own money, all of my choices my own, for the first time. It's what I've always wanted.

Don't I owe it to myself to have that?

There's no good answer.

The day after the don's security arrives, Gabriel comes up to the villa to collect Cecelia and Danny to take them down to the paddocks for a riding lesson. Agnes and I are hanging drapes in the living room, and he waits for a moment, clearing his throat.

"Bella."

Reluctantly, I turn around. I've been trying to avoid him as much as possible, but it's difficult. It's as if he wants to put himself in my way, wants to make it so that we have to talk, have to get to know each other better. I don't know what he gets out of that, other than making it harder on us both.

"What?" I hook the end of the left drape, twisting around on the stepstool I'm standing on. "Do you need something?"

My voice is sharper than it should be—I'm tired and drained, my shoulders ache, and all of this is wearing on me. But if Gabriel notices, he doesn't say anything about it.

"Remember when I told you to get a pair of riding boots?" He smiles mischievously at me. "Come down to the stables in a couple of hours. I want to take you out riding after I'm done with the kids' lesson."

It's on the tip of my tongue to tell him no. I've been trying to avoid being alone with him—going on a horseback ride, even with security undoubtedly somewhere in the wings, is exactly the opposite of that.

But I have no idea how much longer we'll be here. And a part of me does want that experience, at least once. I think Gabriel knows that, and that's why he's baiting me with it.

"Okay," I agree, twisting back around. "I'll meet you down there in a few hours."

I don't honestly know what to wear horseback riding, other than boots. I opt for a pair of jeans and a soft, black cotton t-shirt that fits me nicely, all too aware of the fact that I'm overthinking about Gabriel's opinion of my clothes. It shouldn't matter what he thinks of what I'm wearing, but unfortunately, it does.

I head down to the stables once I'm dressed, walking up to the paddock just in time to see one of the staff leading the ponies into the stable, Cecelia and Danny heading to one of the cars with Aldo. Gabriel sees me, and for a brief second, when our eyes meet, I see his face light up.

It reminds me of what Clara said. That maybe we're both going to talk ourselves out of something good, because we're afraid.

What if that's true ?

"I had them saddle a very calm horse for you," Gabriel says with a grin, as I approach. "You've never ridden before, right?"

I shake my head. "Definitely not."

"Alright. Well, Honey won't do anything that you don't want her to. She's a little older, and very calm." He guides me towards the stable's aisle, where I see two horses tied. One is a pretty golden brown, with a white streak down her face and white socks. She looks at me with lazy brown eyes, chewing on a carrot that the young man putting on her saddle feeds her as she stands there.

"I assume that's Honey?"

Gabriel chuckles. "You assume correctly." He nods towards the other horse—tall, lean, and dark grey with a black mane and tail, stomping restlessly next to Honey. "That's Thunder. He's a bit more fractious. But nothing that will cause problems. He's a retired racehorse."

"Oh." I eye Thunder with some suspicion. I definitely wouldn't want to get on him—he looks like he wants a good run, and it also looks like it's a long way to fall off of him. Honey is shorter and stockier, which makes me feel better.

"I'll help you up." Gabriel waits for the young man to finish, and then unclips Honey, leading her up to a wooden block set near the entrance to the stable. "Just step up on this, and I'll help boost you. Honey will just stand here once you're on her back, while you get settled and I get on Thunder."

I nod, feeling nerves coil tightly in my stomach. But I do want to try. I've conquered fears that felt far more insurmountable than this, and I don't want a horse to be the thing that I can't manage.

Gabriel's hand rests on my hip as I step up on the block. My stomach immediately tightens, a rush of heat washing over me, and my hand tightens on the front of the saddle where it is resting. I can feel his touch like a brand, even through the denim of my jeans, and my heart beats faster, my pulse throbbing in the hollow of my throat.

When he helps push me up, his hand leaving my hip almost immediately, I have to swallow back my disappointment at the loss of his touch. I wanted his hand to stay there, and I push the thought away immediately, as fast as I can.

Instead, I watch as he walks down the aisle, unhooking Thunder and putting one foot in a stirrup. He swings up easily onto the tall, dark grey horse, making it look effortless, and gathers the reins in his hands as Thunder dances sideways, clearly eager to be on his way.

"It's been a while since I've ridden," Gabriel says wryly. "But it comes back."

"Clearly." I would never have known he hadn't spent all of his time on horseback. He looks relaxed and elegant atop his horse, his dark hair swept back, curling slightly where it's tucked behind his ears. In the late afternoon light, as Honey follows him and Thunder out, I notice how much more tanned he's gotten, his muscles lean and taut under the skin. The summer here has been good for him, too.

"I'll take you down the trail that leads to a different lake," Gabriel says, slowing Thunder so that Honey can catch up. I don't know much about horses, but it's clear from the way Thunder is prancing that if Gabriel let him, he'd be off like a shot. Meanwhile, Honey is practically lumbering, which is fine with me. It feels strange enough, having to adjust to another creature's gait underneath me, without having to deal with all of that energy.

"Is it safe to go out that far?" I glance around, feeling a flicker of unease.

"There's security following us from a distance. And I have groups of them patrolling the entire estate, on rotation." Gabriel's voice is tight as he says it; I can tell that he'd rather have privacy for this. But we both know it's a necessity, right now.

"You've been out here before?"

"Often, when I was younger. Once or twice since coming back, I've ridden out partway, just to look at things. I used to ride all over the property when I was a kid. Honey was younger then—I learned on her until I could handle the more energetic horses." He laughs. "I got pretty good at it, even if I'm out of practice now."

"You'd never know." I glance over at him, admiring how he looks. "You look like you belong here."

He looks at me, and there's a flash of something on his face—regret, maybe? I can't be sure. "I suppose I used to. It feels like it's all moved on without me, since I've been back. Like it doesn't really need me. But it deserves more than for me to not have the time to put real effort into it. Someone else could do better."

I bite my lip, unsure of what to say. I have plenty of thoughts about the situation, but I don't know if Gabriel wants to hear any of them. And it seems clear that he's already made up his mind. He's already started selling off the horses.

"This used to be one of my favorite places on the property." We're nearing a treeline, and Gabriel turns Thunder, leading us down a trail that winds through the trees. "It's always quiet and peaceful. And the view from the lake is gorgeous."

There's a soft breeze blowing, the sound of birds chirping in the trees, and I can feel myself relaxing. I trust that Gabriel wouldn't take us out here if he didn't think it was safe, and as I get used to the rhythm of being on Honey, it starts to feel soothing. The sun is warm, but this late in the afternoon, it's not uncomfortable. And, as we ride, I'm hit once again with the feeling of wishing that we could stay.

That feeling only amplifies when the trees open up, the path winding out of them and leading to a large field of grass in front of another, larger, shimmering blue lake. There are more of those wildflowers scattered along the bank, and Gabriel rides up to one of the trees at the very edge, getting off of Thunder and tying his reins to a branch.

"Can you get down?" he asks with a smile, and I wrinkle my nose at him.

"I think I can manage."

I'm more worried, actually, about getting back up without the block to help me. But I slide off of Honey without much trouble, my boots hitting the grass as Gabriel ties her as well. He turns, slipping his hand into mine, and I jolt at the touch. His palm feels warm and a little rough against mine, and I swallow hard as another rush of heat slides over my skin.

"I wanted to show you more of the property, before—" he hesitates, and I look at him.

"Before it's gone? Before we leave?"

"Both," Gabriel admits. "I don't know how much longer we're going to be here—but if Igor is going to do anything, he'll do it soon. Either he'll make a move, or the don will find a way to come to terms with him, and stop any further action from taking place. It's gone on too long already."

I nod silently. It's the same thing I've been thinking, but hearing it aloud sends a shiver down my spine. "Have you looked for a place back in New York?"

"I've looked at some houses." Gabriel runs his other hand through his hair. "It's hard to think of what will replace a house that I lived in for so long. With so many memories. Don't," he adds, as he glances over to see me opening my mouth. "Don't apologize. It's not your fault, and I don't want to hear you say you're sorry. We should be past that, Bella."

I bite my lip, nodding. "I don't know what it would take to not make me feel that it is," I say softly, and he sighs.

"I know. I want to keep telling you, over and over, that I would do this again even if I knew the consequences." He leads me closer to the edge of the lake, tugging on my hand as he sinks down to the grass. I sit down next to him, my knees propped up, the water shimmering in the sinking sun, a few feet away from us. "I wouldn't change any of it. Which means if there's any fault to be had, it's mine."

"Why?" I look at him, the question slipping out before I can stop it. I want to know, suddenly, more than I have in the past. It feels like time is running out, and if there's a chance he might say what I think he almost did that afternoon in our bedroom?—

Gabriel looks at me, his expression faltering for a moment, uncertain. "I?—"

"Just tell me." We're sitting so close, our hands still linked together, and I feel that tension pulse between us, the awareness of how alone we are, how easily we could fall back into the intimacy that we're always dancing on the edge of. "Why would you do it again, Gabriel?"

His lips part. It's as if he wants to say something, and can't. His gaze holds mine, flicks to my mouth, and back up again. "What if I just show you?" he murmurs, his hand tightening around mine—and before I can answer, he leans in, crushing our mouths together.

The kiss is hot, surprising, catching me off guard as he slants his mouth over mine. My lips part automatically, and it's as if it sets something off inside Gabriel, his other hand grabbing my hip as he leans over me, deepening the kiss. I gasp at the sudden hot slide of his tongue against mine, and in an instant, before I know it, I'm on my back in the grass with him leaning over me, his mouth still hard on mine.

I try to whisper his name, and all that comes out is a moan. He's between my legs, hard and solid, pressing against me with a fervor that tells me that whatever else he feels, his desire hasn't lessened a bit. His hand on my hip slides under my t-shirt, fingers against bare skin, and he groans into the kiss as his hips rock against mine.

" Fuck ," he growls under his breath, his hand sliding up to the edge of my bra, cupping my breast in his hands. "God, I fucking want you, Bella. This is driving me crazy. This?—"

His forehead presses against mine as he tugs down the cup of my bra, rolling my stiff nipple between his fingers. I can feel his thick, heavy erection grinding against me as he presses me down into the grass. He leans down, his lips sweeping over my jaw and up to the shell of my ear as he toys with my nipple.

"I made you come just like this, remember?" he whispers into my ear, tugging on the stiff peak as he does. "The first time you came for me, from my touch. Can you come for me like this again, Bella?"

"I don't know," I whisper, my voice cracking. Every tug of his fingers sends a jolt of sensation straight down between my thighs; every roll of his hips against mine grinds the seam of my jeans exactly where I need it the most. I'm soaking wet; I can feel it—my panties are clinging to my skin, my body tight and aching to be filled. I don't know if I can come like this, not because it doesn't feel good—but because now I know how much better it can feel. I want more than just his fingers on my breast. I want?—

"You want more?" Gabriel growls into my ear, and I realize too late that I whispered it aloud. His other hand slides down, between us, flicking open the button of my jeans as he tugs down the zipper, still toying with one nipple as he does, his mouth warm against my ear.

Before I can say anything, his fingers delve into my jeans, slipping deftly under the edge of my panties. "Oh, fucking Christ ," he growls into my ear as his fingers slide against the swollen, wet flesh, dipping between my folds and into my entrance with an ease that belies exactly how much I want him. "God, Bella, I want my cock in you so fucking bad?—"

His fingers slip inside of me, deeper, curling as his thumb finds my clit. I gasp, arching underneath him, and he thrusts his fingers hard, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. "Come for me, Bella," he whispers, his voice low and throaty with need. "Come all over my hand. God, you're so fucking wet; let me feel it, let me feel how much you need it?—"

I'm so close, on the verge of the pleasure I need so desperately, and I want to beg him for more. I want him to strip me bare in the grass, nothing between us but skin, to slide his cock into me and fuck me the way he's fucking me with his fingers right now. The pleasure jolts through me, my muscles winding tight, and the intensity of it terrifies me, the need building until I grab for his wrist.

"Stop!" I gasp aloud, shaking my head. "Gabriel—stop?—"

He pulls his hand back, but it's too late. I'm already too close, just the feeling of his fingers sliding out of me sending me toppling over the edge, my body seizing with a climax that feels hollow and empty with no sensation to carry me through it. My head falls back, a ragged moan spilling from my lips, and I feel Gabriel above me, hear him trying to catch his breath as he looks down at me.

When I open my eyes, he's leaning back on his heels, looking away. His cock is a hard, thick ridge in his jeans, painfully aroused, and guilt washes over me. "Gabriel?—"

"Why did you make me stop?" He looks back at me, his face taut with confusion and frustrated arousal. "You want it as much as I do, Bella. I can feel how much you want it. You're denying us both—why? Why wouldn't you let me make you come? You—" He shakes his head, his jaw tightening, and I wince as I reach down to adjust my clothes, sliding away from him.

Every possible answer feels like a landmine, like it will open up a conversation too difficult to have. Conversations that will inevitably break my heart, when I already feel so fragile.

"You know why," I whisper, and Gabriel looks back at me, his expression sharpening.

"No," he says finally. "I don't."

And then he gets up, dusting off his jeans as he walks to get the horses.

He doesn't look back.