Ross turned to her. "Your chamber awaits. It's the first guest room at the top of the stairs."
"She has to finish her orange juice first," Gideon said. "Stay with her while I take Frank out and feed him. Did you light the hot water heater?"
Ross nodded and explained to Serena. "The gas heater is an antique and the pilot light keeps going out on us." His lips twisted. "Another thing we're going to get fixed." He waved his hand. "Go on and feed the bottomless pit. I'll watch over your other… over Serena."
Stray. He had been about to call her a stray, Serena thought. The realization brought no resentment. Rather it filled her with a comfortable sense of security to be referred to as belonging in any way to Gideon Brandt. He obviously showered those he took under his wing with warmth and love and she desperately needed that security to help fight off the darkness surrounding her.
She watched Gideon leave the kitchen, the big dog skittering unevenly at his heels. "He's so kind," she said huskily. "Have you known him long?"
"A few years. We met in Tucson and took to each other right away. We've been together ever since." He sat down and nodded to the glass in her hand. "You'd better finish that. He won't let you go to sleep until you drink it down."
She laughed uncertainly. "You have to be joking. Gideon wouldn't force me to drink something I didn't want."
"He won't ever force you, but you'll find yourself doing what he wants anyway." He shrugged. "It's easier just to do what he tells you in the beginning."
She took another swallow of orange juice. "I think you're mistaken. He's too gentle to-"
"I didn't say he wasn't gentle," Ross interrupted briskly. "He's one hell of a human being and the best friend I've ever had. I'm just saying there's another aspect to his character that's equally strong."
She frowned. "And what is that?"
"When he makes up his mind, he's completely relentless. He never stops. Not ever. He might feel compassion, but it doesn't sway him. He never quits until he has what he wants."
She shook her head in disbelief.
"Yes," Ross said flatly. "It's something you should know, because I don't think Gideon has quite made up his mind about you yet. He's chewing it over and trying to come to a conclusion. Once he does, there's no way out. Gideon will be as much a prisoner of his determination as you, and probably more vulnerable. Something has knocked you for a loop and I'm sorry, but my first loyalty is to Gideon."
"You act as if you think I'm going to try to hurt him," she whispered. "How could I… I would never do anything to hurt anyone." There was too much pain in the world and not enough laughter. Gideon had said something like that, she remembered vaguely. He had said a great many things tonight. All with a touch as light as a summer breeze, with an underlying salve that had healed before she had even realized any balm had been applied.
"I just thought I'd drop in a savvy word or two. No offense?" Ross smiled. "Gideon would have a fit if he thought I'd upset you. Don't worry, he'll see to it that you're well taken care of."
She smiled back at him. "Like his other 'strays'?"
He grimaced. "You caught that? I was hoping I'd covered myself in time. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
"You didn't." She took another sip of orange juice. "How many strays does Gideon have here?"
"On the premises? Just one cat and a blind parrot. He usually tries to find homes for them before they become too attached to him. He moves around a lot and he doesn't think it's fair to leave them alone." He stood up. "Now, drink the rest of that down and I'll take you to your room."
The tall glass was still a quarter full. She deliberately pushed the glass away. "I've had enough." She scooted back her chair and rose to her feet. "I'm ready to go."
"Are you?" A curious smile touched his lips as his gaze rested on the glass. "Some people just have to learn for themselves." He turned away. "I found a clean shirt of Gideon's for you to wear tonight and I put a pair of my shorts and a T-shirt on the chair in your room for you to wear tomorrow. They'll be a little big, but I'm smaller than Gideon."
"Thank you. I'm sorry to be so much trouble."
"No trouble. These little adventures are what make living with Gideon interesting."
A glass of orange juice was on the white rattan nightstand beside the double bed when she came into the bedroom after her shower thirty minutes later. The glass was exactly one quarter full.
Gideon was lounging in the cane-backed chair by the window, one leg over the arm, a booted foot swinging lazily. "Hi, you look better in that shirt than I do. It kinda reminds me of those ads on TV where they have all those luscious ladies wearing their men's dress shirts."
"Does it? I've never seen them. They didn't have a television set at the convent." She touched the soft blue cotton of the shirt that came almost to her knees. "Thank you for lending it to me. It's very comfortable."
"We aim to please." He swung his foot to the floor and stood up. He exuded so much power and vitality that Serena suddenly felt very small and helpless.
"I'm glad you didn't wash your hair. It must take a long time to diy and I was worried you'd go to bed with it wet." He crossed the room and drew back the top sheet. "In you go. I'll tuck you in and turn out the light."
She found herself obediently sliding into bed. He drew the sheet up around her shoulders and sat down beside her. "I've left the windows open. The screens will keep out the critters and it will be cooler for you. If it starts to rain, you'd better get up and close it." His gaze was gravely holding her own while his hand stroked the hair back from her temple. "You've done just fine so far, but I thought I'd better warn you that sometimes it comes back to you right before you go to sleep. It sort of waits like a bushwhacker until all your defenses are down and then it ambushes you." He smiled. "You just fool it and start thinking of something else. Frank or Ross or me… anything. Okay?"
"Okay," she whispered.
"And, if you get scared or want company, I'm just across the hall. I'll leave my door open to hear if you call out."
"Thank you." His hand on her temple held mesmerizing gentleness and his expression was… beautiful. "Gideon, I…" She trailed off as she felt the tears burn behind her lids. "Just thank you. For everything."
"For nothing." His grin lit up his rough features with warmth. "All I did was cook you an omelet and lend you my shirt." He touched the tip of her nose with his index finger. "Go to sleep now and remember my very wise Hopi friends." He leaned forward and brushed her forehead with his lips as if she were a small child, his child. "Sleep tight."
"You too."
"I always sleep well." He rose and looked down at her. "You just have to remember to watch out for those ambushes."
"You have them, too?"
"We all have them." He smiled again. "You're not alone, Serena." His gaze suddenly fell on the glass on the nightstand. "You forgot to drink your orange juice, so I emptied it out and brought you some fresh. Just what you need for a nightcap." He sat down again, picked up the glass and gathered her up into the curve of his arm. "Bottoms up."
"No, I don't-"
"Shh." His voice was velvet soft and coaxing. "You need it." He smiled that smile that enfolded her in sunlight and caring. "Come on, there's just a little in the glass and I want to feel I've done my duty to appease the gods of nutrition. I didn't have any milk to give you. You wouldn't want to make me feel bad, would you?"
Who would ever want Gideon Brandt to know sadness or discomfort? He was everything that was caring and loving, and so dear she could feel her throat tighten with emotion as she looked up at him. What difference did it make if she didn't want the orange juice? It wouldn't hurt her. She opened her lips and finished off the juice in a few swallows. As he took the glass away, she wrinkled her nose at him. "Satisfied?"