Mistaken 7

He heard her crying. The sounds were so soft, almost unnoticeable to the unaided ear. But the ceramic tiled and otherwise empty sitting area next to the ladies powder room picked up the subdued weeping and amplified it to what seemed to be an inescapable lament to Gabriel's SEP improved hearing. His birthday present was hurting . He shook his head to clear it, and reminded himself sharply that she wasn't his gift . His regalo de cumpleaños . She wasn't anything that was his.

So why did it feel like she belonged to him?

He owed her an apology. Hell, he owed her a lot more than just an apology. The Blackwatch Commander gritted his teeth and slowly closed the distance between them. Gabriel didn't want to alarm her. He didn't want his presence to panic or god forbid, threaten her. What kind of monster did she think of him? Why hadn't she told Gerard? Why hadn't she reported him to the authorities? Was she… frightened of him? Had she been so damaged by his assault that she'd buried the incident away? Was he... doing her more harm by seeking her out? He stilled, several feet away from her. Unable to move farther, he waited for her to notice him, to look at him. It didn't take long.

"...Gabriel?"

His name on her lips was soft as her sobs. Her eyes held the shine of tears, but that only made them more beautiful. He'd seen women cry before. His cousins and their drama had included tempests of emotion of every kind and intensity. They'd looked like red eyed half drowned rodents when they burst into tears. Gabriel knew how to handle that. But this… this left him at a loss. He didn't know how to handle it. He didn't know how to handle her .

Instinctively he held out his arms, hands palm up and open, as if to implore her to give him just a few precious moments so he could somehow apologize… explain...

She was in his arms before a single word could leave him. Pressed tight to his chest, his strong arms wrapped around her instinctively. Her crying intensified, and she wept hard and wet against him, hands bunching his dress shirt even as she emptied herself of tears. She was shaking as if chilled, so he let her take his warmth and gave her what strength he had. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion. It would not have surprised him if she tried to flee from him. Instead she was clinging to him like a shipwreck survivor would cling to the one piece of wood that would keep her from drowning.

"Amelie…?" Her name on his lips was a question.

It was the first time he'd called her directly by name. Through all the passion they'd shared before, he'd called her beautiful, sexy, a goddess… But never the name she'd shielded from him. He'd thought it was some kind of affectation, like the old film, Pretty Woman, where the prostitute played by Julia Roberts refused to kiss her client on the lips. Some small thing to keep a professional from making an emotional bond they could not easily break. He had given her his name, but she'd said few words to him that were not in her sensual french, and none of them had been his name...

"Gabriel…"

He felt thunderstruck. His name in her mouth was a powerful thing.

Her shaking had faded. She pressed against him still, and lifted her face to his. Her make up had smeared, and she looked more crumpled than before, but for all of that she was still unmistakably beautiful. Her vulnerable, tear sodden face, now a bit puffy and raw, made him want to kiss away the damp evidence of her tears. Oh he was a fool and an idiot. He realized suddenly how dangerous his true feelings actually were. She had more than pleased him, when he thought she was only a whore playing to his fantasy. He wanted more from her than just sex. More than he could ask for. More than he deserved. He been almost obsessed with finding her afterwards. Not only because he wanted to buy more of her time. To buy her body with all it's allure. To buy what his lust continued to demand of him. Even now his body wanted her…

She saw the raw, dark desire in his eyes even as he tried to put on a mask of cool calm. He was anything but calm. He wanted her. Amelie shivered, now from completely different reasons than heartache over her ending with Gerard. There were no announcements of his desire, or what he would do to her body, willing or not. But she felt it in the strength of his firm frame pressed against hers. But for now. he held her, not possessively, but with care. Concern. He was concerned about her. He cared. It mattered to him what she felt. She mattered to him. It was more than she had allowed herself to hope for. Once she had realized the serie d' erreurs that had led him to mistake her for a prostitute, she had in her heart forgiven him for what injustice had fallen upon her. He had not meant to harm her, or take her against her will.

But even so, he was a man who had thought he was only taking a prostitute. She had not thought he would hold any true affection towards her, than any man might for a night's s indiscretions with a paid whore. But now he knew. He knew who she really was. He knew what she was not. And he was holding her in his arms, with care and desire in the darkness of his eyes. That care and concern for her after being so long without… It was irresistible. Without even thinking about it, her hands cupped his face as she drew him down as she pressed up. Her lips caressed his lips, a wordless sound of need escaping her as she kissed him, with all the hunger she had denied the long months since she'd last been touched by him.

Gabriel stood at the doorway of his guest room and watched her sleep. She'd collapsed with exhaustion almost the moment he'd brought her to his home. After the emotionally devastating breaking up with her husband Gerard, he would not allow Amelie to return to the rented home in Bern that she shared with her also emotionally devastated ex-husband to be. A tiny voice in the back of his mind scolded him for doing it as much for his own sake as hers. She was leaving Gerard. His friend Gerard. Yet he could not risk even the possibility that somehow they would reconcile. She'd accepted his offer to shelter her with no protest. She was too tired emotionally and physically to deny what she truly wanted or needed.

She had forgiven him. More. She wanted him.

Whatever dark gods had blessed him, he was thankful for their intervention. Because he wanted her. Needed her. He would keep her for as long as she allowed him, and consequences be damned.

He quietly shut the door and completed his gift of privacy to Amelie Lacroix. They had still not spoken of the baby. His baby. He was sure of it. He would let her tell him, at her own pace, in her own time. Ana's blunt observation had been unexpectedly destructive, but Gabriel would find a way to thank her for having revealed the truth to him. His child to him. The one thing he had regretted about the end of his last relationship was that his kid would be taken far away and not really know how much Gabriel loved and cherished his flesh and blood. This new Reyes baby would never know that want for affection. This new baby would have all his heart, and all his love. And the baby mama? Gabriel knew it might take time and patience, but he'd win her to him, heart, body, and soul. Woe to any person or force that tried to come between him and the woman he had claimed for his own. He would do whatever it took to keep her whole and safe, her and their baby. Anything.

… to be continued.