"But what about the guns and the sex slaves? He knew where Tariq was, right?" Isabel asked.
"We know he did, but he's saying he had no knowledge of it. All they have is Gabriel's word against his, and the pictures we collected illegally. They aren't permissible in court."
"Your exposé will effectively end his career. For now, that will have to be good enough. You did good," Sully said, his voice softening with affection. It warmed Cate inside to know that this team liked her. She just wished she'd had time during the last week to talk more to Gabriel about their future. She had to convince him they could make this work. Somehow.
Sully stood, effectively dismissing the team.
"Wait," Isabel said. "What about Bruno? Have we all forgotten about him?"
Sully sat back in his chair. "No, we haven't. But the Amanda case and Cate being kidnapped have taken precedence over the last week. Zach, any info?"
"He's in Las Vegas."
Sully nodded. "Any idea what he's doing there?"
"The usual. Drugs. Girls. Gambling. It's all pretty easy to cover up in Vegas. He owns a nightclub and a casino. They're just covers, though, for what goes on behind the scenes."
"Any news on the hits he's put out on us?" Sully asked.
"Until recently, that was just a rumor. I think it was intentionally leaked by Bruno's guys to make us paranoid. When that didn't work, he followed through with actually putting the hit out on us. I discovered the ads on the dark web this morning."
"Well, that sucks," Ethan drawled.
"Tell me about it," Zach said. "I just got new equipment. I can't die now."
Cate's mouth dropped open. The cavalier way they joked about possible death sent chills up her spine. She must have shivered, because Gabriel gripped her hand more tightly.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"What we always do," Gabriel responded.
"What's that?"
"Get him before he gets us," Sully said, his voice ice-cold.
Chapter 30
Gabriel sat on the big velvet couch, waiting for Cate to submit her article. He had plans for them tonight. Plans that included a celebration of her success, and hopefully a discussion about their future together.
Telling Cate about his past was going to be difficult. Would she still care about him? Could she love someone who had killed his own mother and had worked as a child prostitute, even for a short time?
He didn't know the answer. He'd never know the answer unless he asked.
Legs sat curled up on his lap. He softly stroked her fur as he contemplated what he would say tonight. He didn't want to go out. This wasn't exactly a conversation for a public place, so he'd ordered food from Filomena's and picked it up on his way over. He felt that it was appropriate since Filomena’s was the place that he and Cate had reconnected.
"Done!" Cate shouted from the top of the stairs. She'd been working in her office the whole afternoon.
He turned to look at her as she skipped down the steps.
"That's great," he said, barely moving so that Legs wouldn't be disrupted. She eyed the cat on his lap.
"I would have taken you as more of a dog guy," she said.
"I was, till I met Legs." He winked, and she plopped down on the couch next to him.
"So what do you want to do? Order Chinese food and watch a movie? Go out?"
He lifted Legs from his lap and settled her next to Cate on the couch. Turning, he took Cate's hands in his.
Cate's face clouded with confusion and—was that fear?
"Cate," he started.
"No. You aren't going to do this to us. We've barely even had any time together, and you're already giving up?" She jumped off the couch, tearing her hands from his. Legs didn't like the disturbance and meowed loudly, hopping to the floor and walking over to hop up onto the other chair, where she curled up again.
"Cate, wait. It's not—"
"No. I’m not waiting. I've waited for five years to tell you this, and I’m not waiting another moment." She took a deep breath. "I love you, Gabriel Sanchez."
Wait, what? She loved him? Before he could respond, she kept going.
"I've loved you since the first day I met you. When you rushed in and saved me from Tariq and his thugs, and then we spent that wonderful week together in Italy. You have had my heart from the very first moment, and I'm not letting you go without a fight."
She rushed towards him, her hands going to his face. "I love you. And we are worth fighting for. Aren't we?" For the first time since she'd declared those beautiful words, apprehension crossed her face.
Gabriel wanted to tell her he loved her, too. He wanted to forget about his past and just start their life together without all the ugliness that surrounded him. But, if she was going to love him, she needed to love all of him—warts and all.
"Cate, I need to tell you something before we go any farther." It broke his heart to watch her face fall, but this had to be done. He carefully nudged her back onto the couch cushions.
“I told you about killing my mother.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he put up a single finger. “I know it was an accident. I realize I never meant to kill her. But there’s more that I haven’t told you.”
He didn’t want to share with her the shame he felt for what had happened after Jean had taken him in.
“After that night, Jean, my mother’s friend and our neighbor, found me crying over my mother’s dead body. I went to live with her. She was a prostitute, and still the county approved her to be my foster mom. She even received a nice stipend each month, but she’d decided that I needed to earn my keep.”
The temptation to look away from Cate was overwhelming. But he didn’t look away. He faced her, waiting to see the disgust pass across her face, and her love turn to revulsion.
“Since she turned tricks for a living, naturally that's the work she had for me. She was my first client. My second? The man that had tried to take advantage of me the night I killed my mother."
Instead of revulsion, Cate’s eyes were filled with compassion and tears. They held no traces of disgust or repugnance. Nor did he see pity there. Just—love. But that couldn't be true, could it?
"I don't remember much about what happened, thankfully. He beat me up pretty bad. When I was well, though, I ran away. Lived on the streets. Finally found Sully and Isabel, Lucas, and Zach. I stayed with each of them at some point, switching houses before I became an unwelcome guest. Made my money whatever way I could. Stealing. Drugs. But never sex.”
Cate stood, her hands cupping his face tenderly. Hope rose to the surface of his heart. Could it be true? Could she still love him even after knowing what he'd done? What he'd been forced to do?
Compassion filled her eyes. Sorrow for him oozed from her pores. "It wasn't your fault," she said.
He'd heard the words before—Isabel had told him over and over again as they'd talked last week. His new therapist had also told him. But hearing those words from the woman he loved meant everything to him.
"You thought that this information would change how I feel about you? That’s why you’re sharing it with me now?” Cate asked.
Gabriel nodded. He felt like a damn coward. But the words he really wanted to say just wouldn't come.
"Gabriel, do you love me?" she asked him, and now he thought he saw fear in her eyes—uncertainty about his feelings for her.
He took her hands in his. "I love you more than life itself."
The tears that had puddled in her eyes spilled down her cheeks. She grabbed his face and crushed her mouth to his.
Desire coursed through his veins as he kissed the woman he loved. The woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The woman who'd given him hope for a future filled with joy and happiness.
He pulled away. "I’m getting help, Cate. Isabel referred me to a therapist, and I've been to see him twice already this week. I promise to get better for you."
"I promise to be there for you every step of the way,�
� Cate replied. “I love you. And I'll always love you."
Gabriel pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and caressing her hair with his hand. Then he knelt on one knee and reached into his pocket. With tears in his eyes and love in his heart, he gazed into the face of the only woman he would ever love. The woman who saved his life.
* * * *
Cate's hand went to her mouth. Was he? Surely not.
"Cate Bradshaw, I love you, and I promise to always love you. I promise to keep you safe and provide for our family. I promise to give you lots of children. And I promise to do everything in my power to make you happy every damn day. Will you marry me, mi alma?"
She didn't think that she had any tears left to cry, but more traced twin paths down her cheeks. Her heart was bursting with happiness. She'd hoped that they’d be able to give this relationship thing a go; she’d had no idea that he was thinking marriage.
"Yes! Yes, I'll marry you." She threw her arms around his neck, peppering his face with kisses. "And I promise to spend every day showing you how much you are loved."
Moisture filled Gabriel's eyes, and Cate knew it was a promise he’d needed to hear. Tenderly, he pressed his lips to hers. A sweet kiss that held promises—their promises to each other. The promise of what was to come. The promise of hope.
Cate vowed that the story of their life would not be marked with the struggles of their past, but with the triumphs of their future.
Epilogue
Cate traced the lines of the phoenix tattoo on Gabriel's shoulder, her head on his chest as they lay in her bed, exhausted from a night of lovemaking. They would leave for their honeymoon to Bermuda in a few short hours.
Gabriel had insisted that they wait to have sex until they were married. Cate knew it was his way of redeeming himself, not only for what had happened to him when he was younger, but also for the years he had spent hopping from one woman's bed to the next.
Since five years hadn't dimmed her love for him or his love for her, they'd thought, Why wait? So, in a small ceremony at Waterfront Park in Georgetown, with the Castle Team and her parents there, they'd tied the knot the night before, promising to love each other until the end of time.
"You're awake?" Gabriel's voice was gravelly with sleep.
She sighed. "Too excited to sleep."
"Mmmm," he said, as his hand slipped lower to cup her bare bottom. She knew what that meant, and, sore from their previous bouts, Cate decided that a distraction was in order.
"Tell me about this tattoo," she said as she traced the lines up to his collarbone.
In a quick move, he flipped her over, his face inches from hers as he rested his weight on his elbows.
"Distracting me?" he asked, as he dipped lower to kiss her neck.
"Maybe a little," she said, tilting her head back to give him better access. "But I do really want to know."
He sighed, rolling over and pulling her on top of him.
"This was the first tattoo I ever got. I was seventeen and full of hope that I could make something of myself, but I was struggling to know how, or what to do. A policeman showed up at Sully's house one day while I was staying with him. He told me that he knew the truth about my mother and how she’d died. I had two choices—go to jail, or join the Navy."
"But you were ten, and it was self-defense," Cate protested. The fact that she defended him so fiercely made him love her even more.
"I know that now. I didn't understand all of that back then. I was scared. So, of course, I joined the Navy." He turned over slightly to face her. "The Navy saved my life. Sure, it was apparently a form of blackmail, but, in the end, it worked out for the best."
Gabriel traced a line down her collarbone to her breast. She sucked in a breath, and a devilish grin spread across his face.
"I got the phoenix tattoo to remind myself that even though I came from ashes, I could rise up and make something out of myself. And I did."
Cate was overwhelmed by the strength and courage of this man. Her man.
"I love you," she whispered. He smiled, and this time it was one of love and hope and promise.
"I love you, too."
Then he proceeded to show her just how much.
* * * *
Isabel buckled the belt across her lap as she settled in for the long flight to Las Vegas. Ethan placed their luggage in the bin overhead and sat down next to her. She was grateful that there were only two seats in this row. She hated the rows that contained three seats, as she was always stuck in the middle.
Ethan's long, muscular leg stretched out next to hers, and she could feel its warmth through her jeans. Something had changed between them a couple of weeks ago when they had attended that party undercover. They'd played a couple before, her friendship with him always making their partnership easy and comfortable.
But that night, things had changed. Her mind went back to the kisses they'd shared, kisses that hadn't felt like a façade. Kisses that had burned deep inside her, filling her with passion and anticipation.
And now she was on a plane headed to Las Vegas, where they would go undercover yet again, as newlyweds ready to take on Sin City.
Could she do this? Would she be able to pretend that she was with him, while battling the very real feelings that seemed to simmer just below the surface?
"You ok?" Ethan's Texas drawl was the biggest turn-on. Well, that, and his faded jeans that clung to his backside like a second skin, and his cowboy boots that gave her thoughts of the wild, wild West.
"Yeah, I'm great," she said cheerily—maybe a little too cheerily.
"Just great," she mumbled under her breath.
Ethan stretched, his shirt riding up just a bit and revealing his tan skin and abs that you could bounce a quarter off of. His arm came around her as he leaned across her body to look out the window of the airplane.
She inhaled his scent, fresh and sporty mixed with a hint of musk. He smelled good enough to eat.
Pull it together, Izz. Geez.
"So, um, we'll check into the hotel and then go right to Bruno's club? Or do we start with the casino? Which one do you think would be better?" she asked, her words running together in a high-pitched song.
Ethan lifted an eyebrow as if to ask, Are you crazy? But he leaned back in his seat, thank God, and answered her without commenting on the recent change in the decibel level of her voice.
"We'll check in and then head to the club tonight. We can hit the casino tomorrow night. I'm hoping we can wrap this thing up quickly and get back home."
Isabel hoped that, too. Being in Ethan's company with no one else from Castle Investigations around was going to be problematic for her restraint. Because, since that night—the night that his hands had caressed her curves, and his mouth had taken hers in kiss after passionate kiss—her dreams had been filled with Ethan. Ethan kissing her. Ethan touching her. Ethan.
"Izz. Earth to Izz," came Ethan's voice, penetrating her desire-filled thoughts as he waved his hand in front of her face.
"What?"
"What's going on with you?” he asked. “It's like you're in another world."
"Sorry. Lots on my mind."
"So it seems. Want to talk about it?"
"No!" she shouted, maybe a little too forcefully. "I mean, no. I'm fine. Really. Just distracted, is all."
She decided to change the subject. "Have you ever been to Vegas?" The plane rushed down the runway as it began its ascent into the air. She hated this part, and talking always seemed to help put her mind at ease.
"A few times. The guys and I would go when we were on leave. Sully and I have quite a few memories there." He waggled his eyebrows.
Sully. The person that complicated these newfound feelings for Ethan.
Isabel knew that if she told Ethan how she felt about him, and if they acted on this attraction and it didn't work out, then it would impact the relationship between the two men she cared about most in this world.
She couldn't do that.
So
instead, she'd have to deal with this pull she felt towards Ethan. All while they were working a case together to take down the man who was trying to kill her teammates. Pretending to be newlyweds on their honeymoon.
Piece of cake.
Book Three
Chapter 1
"I should have brought a different dress."
Isabel Castle pulled at the hem of the black spandex dress, trying in vain to cover more than just her lady parts. Unfortunately, with each tug, a breast would pop free of the thin fabric that was barely concealing her. Either way, it appeared as if indecent exposure was the name of the game for the evening.
"You almost ready?" Ethan Hunt, her partner in crime, called out from the other side of the door, his sexy Matthew McConaughey drawl making her stomach flip.
"Yeah, yeah. Keep your pants on!"
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. "Get a hold of yourself, Isabel," she whispered to her reflection.
"Did you say something?" Ethan asked.
"Nothing!"
With one final look at the scrap of fabric intended to be a dress, Isabel opened the door, casually propping her hand on a hip and sweeping her other hand over her scandalous attire.
"How do I look?" she asked, feigning nonchalance. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter if Ethan liked how she looked. They were co-workers. Friends. Nothing more.
Ethan's quick inhalation of breath, and the wild look in his eyes when he raked his gaze over her, did wonders for her self-esteem. If she wasn't mistaken, that was blatant appreciation she saw there.
He whistled softly. "Is there another part to it?"
"Nope. This is it. So don't make me sit on any stools or sofas—actually, let's just not have me sit at all tonight."
"And you're wearing those shoes to stand in all evening?" he asked, his amusement clear in the crinkling around his eyes as he took in her five-inch platform stiletto heels.
"They go with the dress," Isabel tossed over her shoulder as she made her way to the door of the luxurious two-bedroom suite.
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