Courting Danger Page 8

  Help! I needed to call the police. I fumbled in my pocket for my phone when I realized I had lost it in my scramble for safety. Without looking at the body, I glanced around.

  There, by the van’s front tire. Kneeling to pick it up, I heard the approach of another car. Oh God, the shooter was returning.

  I braced myself for another spray of bullets, but the car engine stopped.

  “Kate, where are you?”

  The tension eased from my body. “Gabe. Over here.” I tried to rise, but my traitorous legs suddenly had no strength.

  Then Gabe was beside me, sliding his arm around my shoulders, helping me up.

  “Are you all right?” His hands were gentle as he ran them over me, checking for injuries.

  “No, yes…I think so.” I bit the side of my mouth to keep myself from blathering like an idiot. “Police. Need to call them.” I waved my hand in the general direction of what was left of the thug.

  “I’ll call them, but first let’s get you to my truck.” Gabe kept his body between me and the gruesome scene as he led me to the passenger side of his truck.

  “Where are your shoes?”

  “Don’t know. Threw one. Dropped another.” Oh God, why couldn’t I speak in complete sentences?

  “You’re about to hyperventilate. Here,” Gabe pushed my head down, “breathe deeply and don’t talk.”

  I obeyed him while he called the police. Closing my eyes, I tried to will the image of the dead man’s body from my memory. Although the pressure in my chest gradually eased, the queasiness in my stomach remained. Slowly, I straightened and braced my hands on the seat.

  Gabe crouched beside me and stroked the hair from my face. “Baby, can you tell me what happened?”

  My lips twitched. With my height and the demeanor I presented to the world, I wasn’t exactly the type of woman any man had ever called baby.

  “He trashed my car.”

  “So I saw.” His fingers circled to the back of my neck and began to massage the knotted muscles. “What else happened?”

  “He had a message to deliver, but I didn’t give him a chance. I ran.”

  “Good girl.”

  “I hid and took him out with a parking cone.”

  His hand stilled. “You what?”

  “Then the car came, bullets flew. The thug died and I didn’t.” My attempt to be nonchalant failed as I couldn’t suppress the wave of shivers that racked my body.

  Gabe gripped my shoulders and lightly shook me. “You have to get a hold of yourself, Kate. The police will be here any minute. You don’t want them to see you like this.”

  I choked back the sob that was rising in my throat. He was right. I had to be calm, in control. I let out one long shuddering breath and then nodded.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “That’s my girl. I hear the sirens.” When he held out his hand, I took it and he assisted me up. When the black-and-white unit came around the bend, I was standing, barefoot but in control.

  The next hour passed in a blur of questions. I had to demonstrate where I first encountered my attacker and my ensuing flight during which Gabe’s expression had hardened into stone. The only thing the lead detective hadn’t made me do was go near the body. That part I was allowed to describe. Finally the questioning was over and I stood by Gabe’s truck. I had already called AAA to tow my Jag.

  Gabe appeared with my shoes in hand. I gasped and flashed him my first real smile. “You found them!”

  I sat on the edge of the seat and held my hand out, but instead, Gabe knelt and slipped the shoes on my feet.

  “You really shouldn’t be wearing heels like this with those beat-up feet of yours.”

  “They’re Ferragamos. The leather’s like butter. Besides, I had court this morning.”

  “So you felt the need to torture yourself?”

  “It’s a woman thing.”

  “It’s a stupid thing.”

  He rose and went around to the driver’s side. He started the engine but, because of the narrow lane, he had to drive forward past where the police were loading the black body bag into the coroner’s van.

  It was stupid, I know, but I looked and once more saw the gore and blood that remained glistening on the concrete. My stomach lurched.

  Gabe drove in silence, but the truck jolted over each section break between the concrete slabs. Ba-bump, ba-bump. I could visualize the tires spinning and spinning like a broken movie reel in my mind. Again and again the film flapped, with the same grainy images of blood and death repeating. I swallowed—hard—but my throat burned. As far as I was concerned, we couldn’t exit that garage fast enough.

  However, the light was dazzling after the garage’s dimness. Too bright, in fact. My head began to swim.

  “Gabe, stop the truck!”

  He shot me a startled look but swung off the street into an alley. Before the truck had come to a complete stop, I stumbled out the door. Then I was bent over, throwing up.

  Gabe’s arm slid around my shoulders and his other hand held my hair back from my damp face. “There, baby, you’ll be all right. Every good cop loses it on their first gunshot case.”

  I was too busy retching my guts out to throw him an elbow. I’d get even later.

  Chapter 6

  I couldn’t look at Gabe as he bundled me into his truck. You would’ve thought I was made of fragile Venetian glass the way he was treating me.

  How embarrassing.

  I couldn’t see my way past my mortification so I stared blindly out the window as he slid behind the steering wheel.

  A Rochelle never displayed weakness in public, yet here I was, a Rochelle who had thrown up in an alley, right off Olive Avenue.

  If that wasn’t bad enough, my mouth tasted like I had drunk a cocktail made of rotten eggs and lemons. Naturally, because I was dwelling on the rancid condition of my mouth, my traitorous saliva glands began to water. I cringed at the thought of having to swallow. Proper conduct be hanged, I was ready to roll down the window.

  Gabe reached behind his seat and brought up a bottle of water. “Here. Drink and spit.”

  Tears of shame burned my eyes but I grabbed the bottle. After uncapping it, I took a swig of the warm water and swished it around. Silently, the glass rolled down and I stuck out my head and spit. I repeated the process several times until the sour taste in my mouth became bearable. While I longed to brush my teeth, at least now I could manage until I was home. I fumbled in my bag for the tin of breath mints I always carried.

  Gabe started the truck and pulled away from the alley. For the duration of the drive, we rode in silence. Five mints later he pulled in front of my house. Before he could switch off the engine, I had my door open, more than ready to retreat and regroup.

  “Thanks. Gabe. I’ll call you later.”

  Gabe opened his door. “I’m coming in.”

  The last thing in the world I wanted at the moment was to have another person around.

  “To be perfectly rude, I’m not in the mood…” I was talking to an empty cab. I let out a hiss, clamped my mouth shut and slid out, almost taking a header to the sidewalk. I grabbed hold of the door handle.

  Oh boy, my legs had the consistency of a rag doll’s. Obviously, during the drive, the surcharge of adrenaline that had been powering me had drained away, leaving extreme exhaustion in its place.

  Out of my peripheral vision I saw Gabe reaching for me. No way, I wasn’t a baby who needed to be coddled. So what if I had seen a man with half his head blown off? I could handle it.

  Steeling myself, I pushed off from the truck and, using the momentum, stalked up my impatiens-lined path. Normally the brilliant bands of red and white flowers cheered me because I had planted them myself, but not today.

  Fifteen feet, ten. Come on, Kate, you can do it. Five feet. There, I made it without falling flat on my face.

  I unlocked the door and didn’t stop to check if Gabe was safely through before letting it swing shut.

  After dropp
ing my purse on the table, I headed down the hall. Maybe I couldn’t prevent him from invading my space, but I could ignore him. Willy yowled from the kitchen and Gabe greeted him.

  Good. They could keep each other company for an eternity or two.

  I went into the bathroom and swung the door shut. After turning on the shower full blast, I grabbed my toothbrush. I squeezed out half a tube of toothpaste and scrubbed like there was no tomorrow. As the spearmint washed away any remaining sour taste in my mouth, I almost moaned with relief.

  Then I glanced up, saw my image in the mirror and froze. Who was that woman?

  Staring back was someone with toothpaste foam around her mouth and haunted, mascara-ringed eyes. Hair escaping from her once neat French braid hung in her face. Dirt and oil smeared her former immaculate white suit. Blood stained the front.

  Blood. Not mine. That man’s.

  My stomach lurched but it could find nothing to throw up. That particular cupboard was bare. I had another person’s blood on me and God knows what else.

  My knees liquefied. I dropped the brush to grip the sides of the sink. Control, I must have control. I needed to feel clean again.

  Spinning, I staggered into the shower fully clothed. I shuddered with relief under the blast of hot water. Bracing my hands on the wall, I let the spray sluice over me. Through half-closed eyes, I watched brown-colored water swirl around the drain. I willed the shower to wash away everything I had seen.

  A sob ripped free, painful in its intensity as if it tore apart my soul. I pressed my hand against my lips to stop others, but I couldn’t. Freed at last, one sob after another flowed through me. I crumpled to the tiled floor and curled my legs against my chest. Raising my face to the spray, I let my tears mingle with the water.

  I didn’t hear the shower door slide open. “Kate?”

  “Go away.” Since I couldn’t run, couldn’t hide in a six-by-four shower stall, I turned toward the wall.

  “Come on, baby. Let’s get you into dry clothes.” Heedless of the shower spray, Gabe knelt beside me and placed his hand on my shoulder.

  I stiffened at his touch. The last thing I needed when my defenses were down was kindness.

  While a part of me wanted to succumb and let Gabe take care of me, my darker side, scarred from too many hurts and disappointments, warned me not to fall for the same old trap of a man professing concern for my welfare. Two times burned by former lovers were lessons learned that didn’t bear repeating.

  “Go away.”

  His eyes narrowed but he didn’t remove his hand. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ve been through hell.”

  “So? I’m handling it.”

  “By sitting in your clothes in the shower? Don’t be an idiot. What do you think I’m going to do, Kate?” He bit off an oath. “Throw you down and have wild sex?”

  Gabe’s naked body covering mine. Mindless sex without a care in the world… Suddenly, the confines of the stall narrowed. Steam misted the glass doors, shutting off the rest of the world.

  I swallowed. “Don’t be absurd.”

  As the water continued to drench us, I stared into his dark eyes. I believe that the eyes mirror a person’s soul, and depended on this when making observations as an attorney. But Gabe’s continued to mystify me. I could see anger in their depths, but the man himself remained veiled.

  Other than my uncle Colin and godfather Paul, kindness from men came with too high a risk. To the power-hungry opposite sex I represented the whole enchilada: wealth and family connections. All theirs for the taking if they could only seduce me into being a mindless bimbo, blind to their machinations.

  Exhibit One, my short-lived marriage. On the second night of our Caribbean honeymoon cruise I had learned that my husband planned to wheel and deal with my trust fund for the rest of his life. I still could feel the humiliation burning inside me as I’d had to secure another cabin for myself until I could catch a flight home at the first port, and then had to endure the divorce bought at too high a price: my innocence.

  No, when a man was kind to me, a red warning light went off in my head. That signal was ringing loud and clear right now. I concentrated my focus on extricating myself from danger.

  “Look, I said I’m fine.” Somehow I braced my hands on the slick tile floor and scrambled to my feet. Every inch of my body groaned with pain, but at least my legs held. With his usual grace Gabe also rose.

  “Why won’t you let me help you?” Then his gaze lowered to my chest. I followed his glance and saw that my white clothing was now see-through. I might as well be naked.

  Men. I squashed my flicker of disappointment at Gabe’s too typical reaction. What did I expect? A man to want me for my brains? Fat chance.

  “Please leave,” I said quietly as I moved to turn off the shower.

  “You’re still in shock. Let me check you out.” Gabe’s arm embraced me, but I jerked away.

  He arched a brow but let his hand drop. He leaned against the shower wall. “Want to tell me what this is about?”

  “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  “If you say you’re fine one more time I’m hauling you off to a doctor.”

  That did it. I whirled toward him, my hands fixed to my hips. “Listen, Gabe. I’m grateful for what you did for me in the garage, but I’m not some damn piece of crystal with a ‘fragile’ label slapped on it. I’m strong.”

  Gabe merely folded his arms. “I never said you weren’t.”

  “Then stop treating me as if I were broken.”

  “There’s a difference between caring for someone and caring about someone.”

  “Not in my world. And we haven’t known each other long enough for you to—” I raised my hands and mimicked quote marks “—care about me.”

  Before I could react, Gabe straightened and wrapped his arms around me. In the future I would never underestimate his ability to move. For the next argument, I needed to be a football field away to insure enough distance. By the time my brain registered that I should be pushing him away, his head lowered and his mouth crushed against mine.

  Ohmigod.

  The heat blasted through me. The kiss wasn’t merely a seizing, it was a taking. Forget my ex’s tepid kisses. Forget all the calculated kisses I had ever received from other men. I was experiencing passion.

  Had I really argued that I wasn’t fragile? I felt like blown glass. Every bone in my body melted. I clutched his shoulders just to keep my balance.

  Gabe groaned and slid one hand to the back of my neck and angled my head. His tongue traced the outline of my lips. Perversely I wanted to touch the fire, but some part of my conscience remained alert, making me hesitate. However, Gabe’s thumb pressed against the side of my mouth, a silent demand for admittance. I opened and his tongue surged in.

  Conflagration.

  Seething, hot, toe-curling passion. The type I never thought I could experience let alone respond to.

  Holding on to him wasn’t good enough. I needed to feel the strong, hard lines of his body against mine. I slid my arms around his neck. He stroked his hand along the curve of my spine; I could have purred like my cat Willy. Then he was gripping my bottom, pressing me tighter against him, fitting his erection into a place I thought was dead.

  Over the years I had learned to think of myself as asexual, allowing no man close enough to bring me to life. Even my former lover Harold Lowell hadn’t been able to breach the barrier. Sex had been pleasant, even mundane, like scratching an itch. But never all-consuming.

  Had I fooled myself into thinking I had killed all desire?

  I wanted to forget for the moment and throw myself into the devastating flames. I raised first one leg and then the other so that I was wrapped around Gabe. However, I still craved more than being plastered against him like a second skin. I needed to be fused to him as if we were one. I tugged at his T-shirt.

  His hand covered mine, halting my desperate attempt to strip him. Before I could protest, he was prying us apart. My feet along with my p
ride hit the slippery tile. I pressed against the wall and hugged myself.

  “Wha—at’s going on?” Damn, my voice quavered.

  Gabe reached out. I flinched. Absently, he tucked a wet strand of hair behind my ear. “I may be a lot of things, Kate, but I haven’t sunk so low as to take advantage of a woman in shock.”

  I lifted my chin. “I thought I was the one taking advantage.”

  A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Let’s call it a mutual taking.” He traced the path of a water droplet along the curve of my face. “Look, I told Carling and Nicole that I would take care of you, watch out for you.”

  What? Didn’t they think I was capable of handling myself? Betrayal sliced through me. I jerked my head away from Gabe’s touch and backed into the corner. Crossing my arms protectively over my chest, I wrapped what was left of my dignity around me.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Gabe’s single-word curse was succinct and to the point. He surged across the narrow space and grabbed my upper arms, giving me a slight shake. “It’s not what you think.”

  “You don’t know what I’m thinking.”

  “Babe, you’ve the look of the walking wounded.” His grip tightened. “This isn’t about your handling this case. You’re the only one who doubts you can. This is about your friends caring that no physical harm comes to you.”

  I pressed my lips together. It wouldn’t do to tell him about my suspicions that someone had been in my home last— My God, was it only this morning?

  He gave me another shake before releasing me. He ran a hand through his hair. “Hell, Red’s going to have my ass for the garage attack.”

  I sniffed. “My money’s on Nicole.”

  “You’d win.” He stepped back and grabbed a towel. “Let’s get you dry before you get sick.” He draped the large white bath sheet around my shoulders before taking another to wrap it around my hair. My eyes widened when he expertly tucked the ends in.

  He grinned. “I have five younger sisters.”

  “Five?”

  “Yeah, but being the oldest and the only male, I didn’t have to wear hand-me-downs.”

  “Lucky you.”