Meows and Mistletoe, page 6
part #4 of Cat's Paw Cove Series
“At least not until I can be sure he’d be well cared for during my time away.” She stopped, smiled down at another quick-scampering ghost crab. “He’s a huge priority.”
“He’s a special little man, for sure.” James found it difficult to speak, his heart thumped that hard. Once more, the strange ‘scene’ he’d glimpsed in The Galley flashed across his mind. But now, rather than end with the maid’s terrifying plunge, he saw, even felt, himself hurtling through the air, his body pierced by a spear as cold, wet and gray sand raced up to stop his fall. And through it all, he heard the thunder of heavy iron-shod hooves, the shouts and whoops of men, even as Collywobbles’ tiny face appeared in the mist, the kitten’s blue gaze locking on his, the kitten’s yowls…
“Don’t you just love foghorns?” Gaby Moore’s voice cut through the haze, the disturbing images and sounds vanishing like mist before the sun. “They give me chills,” she said sighing. “There’s something so haunting about the sound, how they echo across the miles, warning seafarers all these centuries-”
“Centuries, aye…” James blinked, pulled a hand down over his face. He looked about, half expecting to see a band of hot-eyed medieval knights thundering across the broad, cold-sanded beach.
But, of course, he saw nothing.
Only another ghost crab, a scattering of seagulls riding the wind, the twinkle of Christmas lights on a souvenir shop, and farther down the beach, a lone man walking a dog.
The ancient past, or whatever it was that kept flitting across his mind, was gone.
He shuddered, felt a need to draw Gaby close.
And so he did, gripping her shoulders and turning her to face him, there beside the foaming surf and with the wind whipping at their clothes and hair, the sea spray damping their faces.
“Fair lady…Gaby…” He looked down at her, losing himself in her eyes, feeling his heart split wide. “Can it be we’ve met before? Say, many, many years ago?”
She thought a moment. “Perhaps our paths crossed when I was in Carmel?”
James shook his head. “I don’t think that’s it.”
“Then in Portland? Or perhaps the Oregon coast? I spend a lot of time there. I love-”
“The wild bleakness,” he guessed, not at all surprised when she nodded, smiling.
“Exactly.” She looked out to the sea, her expression wistful again. “I’m sure I’d remember if we’d met there. Those beaches are almost always deserted. You have to be cold-hardy to enjoy them. They’re wet, rocky, and harsh, even eerie at times.”
“I’ve never been to Oregon.”
“Well, then…” She took a long breath, something in her eyes changing. “Please excuse how odd it sounds, but…” She paused, her brow creasing. “Do you ever kneel before women, hold out your arms to them?”
Chills raced down James’ spine, a flash of doing just that blazing bright in his memory, then vanishing as quickly.
“Not in this life,” he said before he could stop himself. “But I will tell you what I’d like to do now. Truth is, I feel a powerful need to kiss you.”
As if we are long-lost lovers, his heart added.
“Oh, my.” She blinked as if she’d heard everything. “I don’t know, yet it feels as if we’ve been-”
“Waiting forever?”
“Yes.”
He held her gaze, something about the rough seas, the wind and cold air, ripping away layers inside him, knocking down restraints, and unleashing the urge to kiss her not just once, but over and over again. He also didn’t want to let her go.
Madness, he knew.
Even so, he stepped closer, her nearness almost painful. He started to tell her he’d take her back to Catwick Manor, leave her there and camp out at a friend’s, but she leaned into him. Worse, she grasped his shoulders in a way that was dangerous. So were her starry eyes, the half-sad, half-expectant and hopeful look that shone all over her beautiful, up-tilted face.
“We barely kissed.” She shook her head as if the words weren’t odd, the two of them almost strangers.
“Just once, I know.” His answer was as crazy.
He also knew it was true.
And neither of them were referring to the now. The time they’d spent together since she’d walked into The Galley, her arrival upending his world, his life.
The only thing that kept him from running to the nearest white-coated professional, declaring he needed a rubber room was the undeniable fact of a life spent with certain ‘unusual’ abilities. And, thank the gods, the large number of Magicals who made up the population of Cat’s Paw Cove.
He was the last soul who’d question extraordinary happenings.
Everything did whirl through his mind, his heart and soul curious but untroubled by the strangeness. His blood was on fire, the heat scorching him from the inside out, burning away logic, turning time and distance to ash and leaving only…
“You feel it, too.” She looked up at him, daring him to deny it.
He couldn’t. “There is something, yes.”
“It’s not the season. The Christmas spirit and all that. Nor is it me being stuck here and in a spot of trouble.” She took a breath, squared her shoulders. “I’m not a stranger to rough patches and unpleasant surprises. This between us, whatever it is, has nothing to do with any of that.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
He touched her cheek lightly. “All the Ho-Ho-Ho ale in Cat’s Paw Cove couldn’t conjure what we’re feeling,” he said, no longer caring if he sounded like a fool.
He did smooth back her hair, the tawny strands darkening as clouds hid the last of the day’s sun. In the fading light, her eyes looked more gray than blue. Then the clouds thinned and her eyes were again sapphire-bright. Her hair whipped in the wind, the strands no longer dark, but as they always appeared, a bewitching blend of gold, caramel, and lighter shades.
“There is magic in this town,” he admitted, too respectful of the community not to honor its uniqueness. “An air of enchantment that charms everyone,” he added, hoping the explanation was enough to explain the town’s allure. “It’s especially strong at Christmas, though I doubt even the big man in his red suit and all his magical elves and reindeer could bring us such a gift.”
“So what do we do?”
“For starters, we kiss.” He lifted her chin, smoothed his thumb over her lips. A light touch, but enough for her to clasp her hands around his neck and press into him, her softly spoken ‘please…’ carried off by the wind, but not before he’d heard.
And so he pulled her to him, almost crushing her against him as bent his head and did as he’d vowed, kissing her long and deeply. An intimate mating of lips, breath, and tongue, a surge of passion, a wild hunger, the likes of which he’d never known.
She melted into him, returning his ravenous kiss with her own fierce need, the world around them forgotten until the thunder in his blood became a ferocious pounding elsewhere – earthy lust he couldn’t and wouldn’t allow to rage free on the beach.
However much it pained him to pull back, setting her from him. He lessened the separation by raining soft kisses across her cheek, against her ear, and then down her neck. He nuzzled her there, at the crook of her shoulder as he breathed her name, telling her how sweet she was, how good, and that he’d return for her.
His last words broke the spell for he’d meant to say something else entirely – that he could go on kissing her all day. Until the light faded, through the night, and into the morning – those were the words on the tip of his tongue.
What he’d actually said came from elsewhere, and the knowledge shook him to his core.
As did the name he’d called her…
Gabriela.
Chapter Six
Gaby sat silent on the drive back to Catwick Manor. James – though he’d always be Sir Galahad to her–was just as quiet, his attention on the road. Did the world seem as crystalline to him? Colors brighter, outlines more defined, a strong sense that no matter what came, nothing would ever separate them again?
And why again?
The chill-inducing impression that something shattered was being put back together?
Hoping she wasn’t visibly shivering, she glanced at the man beside her. His gaze was still on the road, his hands on the wheel. Yet she knew he was powerfully aware of her – as she was of him.
“Why did you call me Gabriela?”
“Isn’t that your name?”
“No, just Gaby.” She turned her gaze back to the scenery, wondered why the truth felt like a lie.
“Ah, well. You just strike me as Gabriela, I suppose.”
“No one ever called me that.”
“No?”
“Not once.”
“A shame,” he said, a smile in his voice. “The name suits you.”
She wasn’t sure about that, but she laced her fingers in her lap as three things she did know whirled in her mind…
Firstly, she’d never been kissed before. Not really, anyway. Now she knew the difference. Never again would she roll her eyes at flowery descriptions of kisses in romance novels or swooning, stop-a-woman’s-heart portrayals of a kiss in movies. She’d just have to eat her previous skepticism and join the ranks of the enlightened. The world had actually jarred to a halt when Sir Galahad pulled her into his arms and kissed her so deeply. Tingles and heat had swept her, making her heart pound and her soul soar.
She still tingled, a certain part of her melting even now as she recalled the heated intimacy of their tangling tongues, the breath they’d shared.
Most startling of all, she’d never been one for public displays of affection. Yet she hadn’t cared who might have seen them on the beach, locked in a passionate embrace.
She’d caught fire, wanting the kiss to go on and on. Wanting much more, actually. Hot, sensuous things she’d never even desired.
Had she been frigid?
She wouldn’t have thought so, but considered the possibility. Deep inside, she knew it was him.
James Richard.
She also knew she didn’t want to be kissed or touched by any other man ever again.
Sneaking a glance at him only confirmed that wisdom. Whatever came of them – or didn’t – she was now ruined for other men.
Soon they’d be back at Catwick Manor. Alone. She tightened her jacket, tried again to focus on the scenery flashing by. As she did so, she acknowledged the second truth…
Much as she loved Portland, she didn’t want to leave here.
Something about Cat’s Paw Cove spoke to her, and the three words were loud and clear: you belong here.
Thirdly, and this revelation sent chills of an entirely different sort racing along her nerve ends…
This man knew her soul.
She hadn’t lied about her name. She was just Gaby. Yet as a child, she’d pestered her parents at every turn, wanting them to call her Gabriela. She’d cry when they refused, both of them insisting she was Gaby.
Of course, after a while, she believed them.
Now…
She frowned, for the first time in forever, seeing another face in the Range Rover’s window as she peered out at the town’s holiday decorations. Superimposed on her own reflection, a dark-haired young woman gave her a slight smile and nod, her gray eyes shining, bright with hope and love. Then a tear rolled down the girl’s cheek, and she vanished, replaced by Gaby’s own face – a trick of the light, her nerves, or a spot of the town’s magic?
She didn’t know, and it didn’t matter because they were passing the posh estates of Seaside Hills, somehow making the drive home in what felt like an eye-blink.
And even as it dawned on her that she’d thought of Catwick Manor as home, the gate swung open and Sir Galahad turned into the drive. The garden now twinkled with fairy lights and a wreath of red-glistening holly berries adorned the door. A life-sized and real-looking Santa sat on the porch swing, while a handful of elf-suited cats were caught in twinkly-lighted motion as they climbed over his sack of gold, red, and green-wrapped gifts.
“The inside is much less traditional.” Sir Galahad glanced at her as he drew to a stop, cut the engine.
“Since when are cats in elf suits traditional?”
“You forget this is Cat’s Paw Cove.” He leaned toward her, kissed her cheek. “Cats rule here.”
“I’d have never guessed.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet, sweeting.” He slid out from behind the wheel and came around the classy British four-by-four and helped her climb down. “The inside is even better.”
“When did you do this?”
“I can’t claim the honor.” He took her elbow as they approached the door. “Chase hires someone to decorate the porch and gardens every year. This” – he gestured to the Santa and elf-cats – “was all done while we enjoyed our lunch.”
“Oh.” Gaby felt a stab of disappointment, then guilt for wanting more than he’d already given her. “I kind of thought I could help you decorate.”
“You can, though I did the library before you wakened this morning.” He paused with his hand on the door latch. “There’s still plenty to do.”
“Excellent.” Her heart thumped as he opened the door. “Now I know why the library doors were closed this morning. I figured there was a reason, so didn’t peek.”
“A good thing – the cats didn’t need to be in there while we were at the beach.”
“Oh, yes.” Gaby laughed. “They are notorious for toppling Christmas trees.”
“Indeed.” He surprised her by sliding an arm around her and rushing her inside, closing the door behind him. “Now, precious, we’re going to kiss again. I’ve had nothing else on my mind the whole drive home.”
In a blink, he had her against the door and she’d thrown her arms around his neck. As quickly, his mouth swooped down on hers, his tongue plunging deep as once again the world spun away. Clutching tight, she leaned into him, feeling electrified, desire bursting inside her.
She tipped back her head, opening her mouth wider, loving the roughness of his kiss, the desperation. She pressed closer, her need an ancient cry racing up from the roots of her soul.
As if he knew, he tightened his arms around her, and she welcomed his crushing embrace, an almost primal fear roaring in her heart that if they broke apart, she’d lose him.
Then, through the haze of passion, she thought she heard him call her Gabriela again. She couldn’t be sure because her pulse hammered – a loud thunder that, oddly enough at this distance from the beach, sounded like strong, white-capped waves crashing on a cold, wintry shore.
She also caught the tang of the sea, but in that moment, James drew back, shook his head as if coming out of a daze. He inhaled deeply, then braced his hands on the door, caging her there as he looked down at her, his eyes dark and intense.
“No question, sweeting,” he said, his voice roughened. “There is something between us.”
“I know.” She eased back, hoping her knees wouldn’t buckle. “We also have an audience,” she added, catching a flash of orange as she peered past his shoulder. “The cats-”
“They’ll forget us in a minute.” He released her and stepped back, smiling to see Humphrey and Bogart sitting like statues as they stared unblinking at them.
Collywobbles raced about in a frenzy, a catnip mouse clamped in his mouth, his lopsided gait not stopping him from zooming up and down the entry hall at light-speed. As quickly, he came to a skidding halt and curled himself into an orange-and-white ball of fluff. He dropped the mouse toy to peer up at them, his blue gaze serious, his over-long right leg thrust out at them in the way a crusty old professor would use a pointer.
As if he agreed with the comparison, he stood and bolted over to James, scrambled onto his foot and pressed his right paw against James’ ankle.
“Friendly little fella.” James smiled down at him.
“I think he’s trying to tell us something.” Gaby looked from the kitten back to James, surprised to see his brow crease, a faraway look enter his eyes.
“What is it?” She gripped his arm. “Surely you don’t mind him-”
“It’s not the kitten.” He closed his eyes and pulled a hand down over his chin. When he looked at her again, his face had cleared. “Collywobbles can poke holes in my trousers, climb the drapes, even hold a Kitty 500 in here and I wouldn’t mind. Neither would Chase, though Sheena-”
“The travel influencer,” Gaby blurted. “She’d have a fit.”
“She would.” James chuckled. “But she’s on a Greek island, no doubt drinking ouzo and rubbing scented oil onto Chase’s back.”
More than his back, Gaby almost added.
Instead, she followed James through the house, all three cats trailing them. A good thing, too, because they were heading for the library and she’d much rather enjoy James’ Christmas decorations than spend another instant fending off the unpleasant energy that rushed her just thinking of Sheena Parisi, the man-eating, cat-hating social media selfie-sensation.
“Hurry.” James looked back at her, his hands on the library’s twin door latches as the two tuxedos and Collywobbles wound in and out of his legs. They trilled and yowled, each one a breath away from scratching at the still-closed doors. “They know treats are inside.”
Sheena Parisi and her icky mojo vanished as Gaby’s heart swelled. “You’ve set out treats for them?”
“Among other things,” came his cryptic reply. “See for yourself.”
Smiling, he threw the doors wide, his smile deepening as the cats raced inside, bolting straight for the giant ‘Christmas tree’ that now stretched the entire length of one of the library walls.
“Wow!” Gaby’s jaw slipped as she stared at the feline-friendly tree. “It looks like a combination between a leafless banyan and something out of a fairytale.”
“That was the idea.” James slid his arm around her, drew her close. “I designed it and had a friend make it for Humphrey and Bogart. Your kitten seems equally happy with it.”
Gaby let her gaze roam over the tree, awed. “It’s a cat’s dream.”
