"At the corner in three minutes, Cate," Gabriel said.
"Ok, hang on, honey," she said and ended the call.
She turned to look at Andrew, who was still sitting on the chair watching the other two couples, who had now moved from the girls kissing to a full-on foursome. Cate was disgusted. She knew she'd never be able to un-see this. It would forever be etched into her mind.
"That was my roommate. She's at the hospital. I have to go to her," she said.
Andrew seemed reluctant to look away from the “fun” happening on the couch.
"What?" he asked, his voice heavy with lust.
"I need to go. I'll catch an Uber." She pulled out her phone, opening the app. "There's one at the corner."
"No, no, I'll take you," he said, and started to get up. She pushed him down with one arm, leaning in close to his face.
"It's ok. Stay. Have fun," she said and smiled. Then she bent down and kissed him. That did the trick. He took over the kiss, his hands running up and down her thighs, until he started to pull her on top of him again. She jerked away.
"I'm sorry," she said and turned to go.
"Katelyn," he said, his voice stern.
"Yes?"
"Next Saturday, seven o'clock. I'll pick you up." She started to protest, and he put his finger up to stop her. "No arguments. I'll pick you up."
She nodded and turned back to the door, opening it, when she was stopped again.
"And Katelyn?"
She turned.
"Leave your damn phone at home."
With those parting words, he walked over to the sofa. As she pulled the door closed, she watched as Alison caught her eye, sympathy crossing her expression. Then Andrew yanked her head back by her hair and took her mouth in a bruising kiss. Shuddering, Cate shut the door and ran down the hall. She didn't stop until she’d reached the corner where her knight in shining armor was waiting to rescue her.
* * * *
Gabriel sat at the corner of the street for a couple of minutes before he saw Cate stumble out of the hotel. She was trying to run, but, in four-inch heels, it was proving to be a difficult task. The tight silver dress she wore fit like a glove, and he had to remind himself that she couldn't be trusted; therefore, he couldn't touch her.
He leaned over and opened her door just as she approached the car. She slid in, her skirt rising up and revealing a tantalizing amount of leg between the tassels of the fringe gracing the bottom of her dress. He looked away quickly, cursing himself for being such an ass. The girl was in trouble. She was scared and had probably been pawed and gawked at all night. His temper flared at some other man's hands on her, but he pushed the anger down. He had no right to her. Still, the thought of someone forcing himself on her made him want to pull out his glock and shoot the guy between the eyes.
"You ok?" he asked, darting a look her way.
Her arms were wrapped around her middle, and she was breathing heavily. She nodded, but didn't say anything. For Cate, that spoke volumes. The woman lived on words. If she wasn't talking, then she clearly wasn't ok.
They drove to her townhome in silence. It wasn't until he pulled up in front of her complex that she seemed to come out of her coma-like trance.
"How? How did you know where I lived?" she asked.
"Security firm, remember? It's my job to know."
She didn't reply, just mumbled a thank you and pushed open the door. He jumped out after her, walking behind her as she approached her front door. She started when she saw him behind her, completely unaware of her surroundings. That wasn't good. Didn't she know that anyone could be hiding in the bushes next to her front stoop, waiting to take her keys and do her harm?
"What are you doing?" she asked, as he took the keys from her hand and opened the door.
"Seeing you safely inside," he said, and he pushed the door open and followed her in. She seemed to snap out of her stupor, and she turned to face him, anger flushing her cheeks a deep crimson.
"I'm home. So, you can leave now." She pointed towards the door he'd just shut.
"No," he said and walked towards where he thought her kitchen was, through the doorway in the back. The townhome was beautiful, with built-in bookshelves with ornate etchings at the top. The same pattern decorated the top of the mantel above the fireplace. The light gray paint on the walls was warm and welcoming.
The blue velvet couch with fuzzy white pillows was a surprise to Gabriel. It fit Cate perfectly but was an edgy twist to the antique townhome. The archway above the opening to the dining room and kitchen was equally as ornate as the bookshelves and mantel.
A brown and white cat with a big, round head and short, stubby legs sat on its hindquarters like a dog. Gabriel stopped short, taking in the cat, and then turned towards Cate. He raised his eyebrows in question.
"This is Legs. She's a munchkin cat," she explained. He raised his eyebrows higher.
"Munchkin cats have short legs, and they act more like dogs than cats," she said, patting her thigh, and the cat bounded over and jumped into her arms.
"Legs?" he asked.
"Yeah, I thought it was ironic," she said with a grin, and he wondered if it was the first real smile she'd smiled all night.
He ducked into a contemporary kitchen with white cabinets, black hardware, and a white granite countertop. Stainless steel appliances that looked brand new rounded out the overall updated impression, but the glass doors on several of the cabinets kept the kitchen from seeming out of place.
He heard Cate marching behind him, her footsteps heavy with anger, with Legs propped over her shoulder like a baby.
"What do you think you're doing?" she fumed.
"I'm making you a drink," he replied, a fake smile fixed to his face.
"I don't want a drink!"
"Well, you need a drink." He sighed heavily and dropped his head into his hands. "Look, Cate, you've had a crappy night. I can't do anything to change that, but I can make it a little better by giving you some alcohol. So, will you just shut up, and let me fix the damn drink?"
Her mouth hung open in shock, and she closed it with an audible pop. She nodded and sank heavily onto a stool at the island, setting the cat down on the floor, where she then galloped off into the other room. Cate crossed her arms on the table and laid her head on top.
Gabriel crossed to the freezer, looking for vodka. He knew her drink of choice and had hoped she'd have something a little stronger than wine. He hit pay dirt as he grabbed the vodka, then opened the fridge, finding the ginger beer. A lime in a bowl on the counter rounded out all the ingredients necessary for a Moscow mule.
He poured a generous helping of vodka into a glass filled halfway with crushed ice. He added the ginger beer and lime, swirled it around, and set it in front of her. He then went to work making his own, using a little less vodka. He still had to drive home.
"Thank you," she said. Her eyes were red as if she were holding back tears. He hoped she wasn't going to cry. He hated to see her cry. His mind went back to the first time she'd cried on him, her tears soaking through his shirt. He pushed the thoughts of the past away and sat down next to her on the stool.
"You want to talk about it?" he asked.
She shook her head, but he knew she wanted to. So he waited, sipping his drink as she gulped hers down.
"He wanted me to be a part of some orgy, Gabriel." She shivered, and he resisted the urge to wrap his arms around her and pull her close to him.
"There were two other escorts, Alison and Stephanie. They must work together a lot, because they seemed really comfortable with each other," she said, and her cheeks turned bright pink with embarrassment.
Gabriel wondered at the innocence that her blush conveyed. It conflicted with his image of her as a she-devil. How could she blush at the thought of sexual encounters, when she hadn’t hesitated to run off in pursuit of a story, without so much as a goodbye?
"Go on," he said, hoping she'd continue with the story, so he could quit thinking about what might have been.
"Anyway, when we arrived, Michael Sutter and Charles Kingston were already in compromising positions with the escorts. I was mortified that they hadn't even made it to the bedroom. Andrew told me to sit on the couch, but I couldn't. I excused myself to go to the bathroom and called you." She looked away, and suddenly, Gabriel knew there was more to the story.
"What happened after you called me?" he asked, his words carefully enunciated to keep his anger at the reprobate at bay.
"Nothing, really. He kissed me. Tried to do more, but I was able to keep it from going any farther." Her cheeks, however, told a different story. Gabriel knew there hadn't been time for him to rape her, but he was sure he'd done his fair share of touching. He wanted to rip the guy’s damn hands off! That's when he noticed the purplish spot on her neck. The bastard had marked her.
"When I left, they were all, um, you know…on the couch. I have no idea what was wrong with the bed. In the private bedroom, for crying out loud!" She giggled then, the absurdity of her statement getting to her. The giggles turned into laughter, huge guffaws that finally subsided into sobs.
Her whole body shook with the force of her fear and anxiety. Gabriel couldn't help himself. He pulled her close to his body, her fingers grabbing at his shirt and holding it tightly in her fists. Her tears undid him.
Lifting her into his arms, he took her to the sofa. He sat with her between his legs and pulled the throw on the edge of the couch over them. He stroked her arms as she cried, making little sounds of comfort, telling her it was going to be ok. That he was there.
Was he there for her? Well, he was for now. And that would have to be enough. As he held her, the calluses around his heart became agitated. He thought he'd put that thing to death, never again to be resurrected. But he felt the first thumps of life stir inside him.
He closed his eyes, remembering one of the nights he'd held her just like this, on a blanket on the beach of the Naples Sea. He'd held her as they'd looked at the stars. It had been such a simple night, consisting of dinner and a walk on the beach. They'd lain there for hours, just talking. They had fallen asleep and had awoken hours later, with rain falling from the sky.
Squealing, Cate had jumped up, and they'd had to run all the way back to base. When they’d gotten to the door of the living quarters, Cate had tipped her head back in laughter. She’d been so beautiful. So innocent. So pure. And he’d known then that he was falling in love with her. Something Gabriel had never thought would ever happen to him. Something he knew he didn't deserve. After all, his mother had told him hundreds of times that he wasn't worthy of it.
Now, Cate's sobs turned to hiccups, and soon her breathing was slow and even. Gabriel looked down and saw that she was asleep. She had to be exhausted. He pulled her a little closer, tucking her under his arm and tightening the throw around them. Then he shut his eyes and let sleep overtake him.
Chapter 9
Cate awoke the next morning in her bed, still fully clothed. She wasn't sure what time Gabriel had left. She vaguely remembered being carried upstairs to her bedroom and someone tugging the covers up over her.
She had cried last night. And she hadn't cried like that since the week after she'd returned home from Naples. Todd's funeral had happened later that week, but she’d been unable to go since it was in London, and she hadn't quite figured out why she'd been escorted out of the country. So, she had cried at home for hours, the guilt and regret washing over her. Then she'd cried for the man she'd thought she might love…"the kind of love to last forever." Her mind went to that Chicago song immediately.
They'd listened to that song that night on the beach, when they’d talked for hours under the stars and then had had to run home in the rain. She'd known then that, if given a chance, she could have loved him "from tonight until the end of time." It was a cheesy old love song from the ’80s. But it wasn't just the song—it had been the whole evening.
Shaking off her nostalgic thoughts, Cate took a shower, trying to get Andrew's scent off her. She couldn't believe she hadn't stayed awake long enough to take a shower last night. His lips had been on hers—his hands on her body. She felt dirty, and it was a long time in the scalding shower before she felt clean again.
Cate padded downstairs on bare feet, clothed in a sports bra and boxer shorts. She turned the corner and stopped. On her couch, with his arm thrown over his head in sleep, was Gabriel. He'd stayed? All night?
Attempting to be quiet, she scooted past him, Legs prancing beside her. Gabriel’s eyes popped open, and she yelped. He sat up in one fluid motion, and then his gaze raked her from her feet up to her eyes. Forgetting that she was in nothing but her underwear, she stared back at him. Then reality sank in, and she turned to run up the stairs to put her armor of clothes back on.
As she reached the end of the couch, his arm swept out and grabbed hers. She stopped, scared to look him in the eyes.
Finally, she turned and met his heated gaze.
"What do you want, Gabriel?"
He let his gaze trail over her again, not saying a word.
"What do you want?" she tried again.
He let her go, and she ran up the steps to her room. Her heart hurt just a little at his rejection. But what had she expected him to say?
You, a little voice whispered inside her head. You wanted him to say that he wanted you.
"Stupid heart," she muttered as she pulled a t-shirt over her head and slipped into some decent shorts that covered her butt.
When she got back downstairs, Gabriel was standing by the door, keys in hand.
"I just wanted to make sure you didn't wake up scared last night," he said, explaining his presence on the couch to her.
"Thanks," she said, wishing she could say a whole lot more.
"I'll pick you up this afternoon?" he asked, and she scrunched her nose up in confusion.
"This afternoon?"
"Yeah, we have an all-nighter, remember?" He waggled his eyebrows, and a giggle escaped her lips.
"Where are we going?"
"I'll take you to the office to meet with the team. Then we'll go to dinner. After that, I guess we'll head to a hotel."
She flinched.
He stepped towards her, pushing her long locks behind her ear.
"I would never hurt you. You know that, right?"
Physically? Of course she knew that. But she wasn't worried about the physical harm he posed. She was worried about the emotional harm he could unleash on her. It had taken her months to get over him five years ago. Months of quietly crying herself to sleep. That's when she'd bought Legs. She'd needed the comfort each night.
Her silence must have concerned him, because he took another step closer to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Cate?"
"Yes, I know you'd never hurt me." She smiled, but she knew it looked forced.
He nodded then, and stepped outside the door. She closed the door behind him, and went to call her contact at the AP. She hadn't checked in lately, and Sam Clark would want to know that she was ok.
Legs sat at her feet, begging for treats, her sad eyes looking at the table expectantly. Cate picked up the bag of treats and gave her one. Then she rubbed the top of her head.
"Never let a man have your heart, Legs. They'll rip it to shreds and shove it down your throat."
* * * *
It was four-thirty in the afternoon, and Gabriel was supposed to pick Cate up at five. He felt like a damn chick, fretting over what he should wear tonight. He wanted to take her somewhere fun. If he had to keep up the charade of "dating" her, then they should at least have a little fun.
He decided on the National Harbor. After their meeting, he could take her to dinner, and then they could walk in the sand at the park and ride the sky wheel on the pier. With that in mind, he chose a pair of dark jeans with a black t-shirt. It wasn't very creative, but he liked his clothes simple. He owned only blue, black, and white shirts, jeans, and black slacks. Simple and easy to find things that matched.
He spra
yed his cologne in the air and then walked through the mist. A final look in the mirror, and he was ready to get this night started. He briefly had the thought that maybe he should have shaved, but ignored it. “What you see is what you get,” was his motto.
He stepped into the hall and nearly bumped into Isabel as she was leaving her room.
"Hot date?" she asked.
"The new escort. Well, she's pretending to be an escort, anyway. I'm bringing her here to meet the team and discuss how to proceed."
"Riii—ght." She dragged the word out into multiple syllables.
Ignoring her skepticism, he said, "We'll be back around five-thirty."
"See you soon," she sing-songed, and he growled back at her. Girlish giggles followed him out the door.
Gabriel pulled up to Cate's townhome right on time. He took in the old-world charm and the ivy-covered façade. He'd expected her to live in a high-rise apartment in downtown D.C. This cozy old brick-front complex was not what he’d expected.
After knocking on the shiny red door, Gabriel took a step back so that Cate could see him through the peephole. The door opened, and the sight before him took his breath away.
Cate stood inside the doorway, her long hair hanging loose to her waist. A black lace top with scalloped edges plunged low between her breasts and was tucked into tight black leather pants that hugged her every curve. It all ended at her feet, in four-inch black platform sandals that made her legs look a mile long—quite a feat since she was barely five feet, four inches tall.
"You're drooling," she said, a satisfied smirk on her face.
"Looks like you took my advice to heart. Too bad all that is wasted on a meeting with my team."
Gabriel would not apologize for ogling her. She was gorgeous. Dangerous to his well-being, sure. But drop-dead gorgeous. He growled at the thought of having to share her with his team members tonight. What he really wanted to do—
"Eyes up here, sailor."
"If you didn't want me to look, you should have worn more clothes." The growl in his voice caught him off guard. Cate affected him like no other woman in his life.
Castle Investigations Box Set Page 32