Challenging Gabriel (Knight Security 2)

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Challenging Gabriel (Knight Security 2) Page 8

by Carole Mortimer


  “You don’t want to know.” Gabriel chuckled as he moved into the kitchen area and began to make a pot of coffee with the familiarity of a regular guest.

  Considering the missions she was starting to suspect these two men had been on in the past, maybe she didn’t…

  “Thank you.” She accepted the full mug of coffee Gabriel handed her a few minutes later, grimacing as she took a sip and tasted how sweet it was. Obviously Gabriel had forgotten she didn’t take sugar in her coffee.

  “It’s for the shock,” Gabriel explained as he saw Angel wince after sipping the strong coffee. She had stood up very well, literally under fire, but reaction had to be setting in about now.

  His own reaction was slightly different. Anger. Fury, to be exact, that Sinclair had dared to try to take Angel out on his watch. For daring to think he could take Angel out at all! The fucker was going to pay for that. Gabriel didn’t know when or how, but he would ensure that he did. It was—

  “What’s that on your shirt?”

  He glanced up at Angel and then down in the direction of her gaze. A slow tide of red seemed to be soaking into the left side of his shirt beneath his suit jacket.

  Gabriel pulled the front of his jacket aside for a better look, guessing from the hole in his shirt and the visible blood that the bullet had found a target after all.

  Sinclair could afford the best, and Gabriel doubted the other man had stinted when it came to hiring an assassin. Gabriel had been walking at Angel’s side when he heard the whistling sound of the approaching bullet—a sound no soldier ever forgot—but his wound was on the side of his body farthest away from Angel. Making him wonder if Sinclair had been trying to take him out rather than Angel?

  “Have you been shot?” She stumbled to her feet, her face pale as she moved round the breakfast bar to where Gabriel was standing. “My God, you have…” she gasped, not bothering to unfasten his shirt but instead pulling the two sides apart, the buttons flying in all directions.

  “Hey, that was a silk shirt!”

  “Hey, that was a totally ruined silk shirt even before I ripped the buttons off,” Angel shot back, totally concentrated on inspecting the wound in Gabriel’s side.

  It didn’t look as if the bullet had actually penetrated the skin but rather scraped along his flesh, causing a three-inch-long gash that was bleeding profusely.

  “It looks worse than it is,” Gabriel assured.

  “Really?” Angel’s eyes flashed skepticism as she glanced up at him. “How could you not have realized you had been shot?” She pressed the bottom of the shirt against the wound to stanch the flow of blood.

  “Adrenaline rush. Look, I was too busy concentrating on not getting you killed to be aware I was the one who had been injured,” he reasoned as she gave him another quelling glance. “It’s only a flesh wound, Angel. They always bleed profusely. It isn’t bad enough to need stitches. I’ll clean it up a bit, put on a dressing, and I’ll be as good as new.”

  “I’ll clean it up a bit and put on a dressing, and then you are going to lie down on the couch,” she contradicted decisively. “And someone really does need to call the police and report— What do you mean, no?” She frowned as Gabriel shook his head. “People can’t just go around shooting other people in busy London streets!”

  Gabriel smiled derisively. “It seems they can, and I just was. You said it yourself, involving the police will only delay things and further complicate an already fraught situation.”

  “That was before someone shot at us.”

  “Think, Angel,” he continued impatiently. “If we report the shooting, then the police will want to know the whole story. And if we tell them that, everything will get so delayed, you might never see Daniel and Lena again.”

  Angel clamped her lips together. She knew Gabriel was right, but at the same time, she hated the very idea of letting Clive get away with something this despicable. “Is it possible you were the target rather than me?”

  Gabriel’s gaze didn’t meet hers as he took over pressing his shirt to the wound. “I think we should get this cleaned up and put a dressing on it.”

  In other words, yes, that was exactly what Gabriel thought.

  Her chin firmed. “Because you were with me?”

  “Why else?” Gabriel still wasn’t meeting her gaze.

  “Perhaps because by now, Clive has probably seen a photograph of the man who’s assisting me,” Angel said bitterly. “He knows exactly who you are, Gabriel.”

  He raised his head to meet her gaze head-on. “So what if he knows I’m Daniel’s biological father? If he checks into my background, as I have no doubt he will, then he’ll also realize who he’s dealing with.”

  She swallowed. “And who is that?”

  His expression softened. “I think you already know, Angel.”

  Of course she did. The missions he couldn’t talk about. The title of Major. His calm efficiency during the shooting. His dismissal of what he called a flesh wound and she considered much more serious.

  She breathed out shakily. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  It took them ten minutes to get Gabriel out of his jacket and shirt, and for Angel to clean the wound sufficiently before applying the dressing. Helped by the fact that Zander had everything they needed in his bathroom cabinet, along with a kit for sewing up a more serious wound, and several other medical supplies Angel was sure he shouldn’t have in his possession without a doctor’s prescription. Something she was pretty sure he didn’t have.

  Angel concentrated on cleaning and dressing the wound as a way of distracting herself from the fact Gabriel was half-naked flesh warm and vital to the touch.

  “I’m guessing from all those scars you already have that this sort of thing is an occupational hazard for you and your men.” She followed Gabriel back into the sitting area after helping him to put on one of Zander’s T-shirts she had found in the top drawer of his dresser.

  “It happens from time to time, yes.” He grinned unconcernedly.

  Angel’s breath caught in her throat at how much younger he looked when he smiled like that. Almost but not quite the man she had fallen in love with all those years ago. She changed the subject abruptly. “Can you still fly a plane when you’re injured?”

  He nodded. “We can leave as soon as Ash and Ian have reported in.”

  “Ian is another one of your men?”

  “And my cousin.”

  “Ian Knight?”

  “Correct.”

  “Any more family I should know about?”

  “Can’t think of any, no.”

  “So what do we do while we’re waiting?”

  “What would you like to do?” He eyed her speculatively.

  She gave a disbelieving snort. “You can’t be serious?”

  “I’m still on an adrenaline high,” he reminded her dryly.

  “Well, I’m not.” She sat down in one of the armchairs. “Today has been exhausting.”

  “And it’s not even lunchtime yet,” Gabriel reminded her.

  Angel rested her head back against the chair, looking up at the ceiling. “What does Zander have up there?” She hadn’t heard so much as a sound on the floor above them for the past half hour, not even the creaking of a floorboard to indicate Zander was still up there.

  Gabriel’s movements were slower than usual as he sat in the chair opposite her. “Last time I went up there, about twenty screens, each one showing images from different surveillance cameras. Plus half a dozen laptops with any amount of information feeding down onto them day and night. Some of it is even legal,” he added unapologetically. “You have blood on your arm.”

  Angel followed his gaze down to the red smear on the top of her left arm. Tears blurred her vision at the sight of Gabriel’s blood. At the realization that if the bullet had hit him a few more inches to the right, he might be dead.

  She felt the hot tears scalding her cheeks when she closed her eyes. “I’m not sure how much more of this I can take.�
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  “A lot more,” he assured her gruffly. “You’re strong, Angel, stronger than you even realize.”

  She sighed. “I’m not feeling very strong right now.”

  “Maybe not, but you are.”

  Angel opened her eyes to find Gabriel had moved from the chair and was now on his haunches in front of her. “You should be lying down.”

  He tilted his head. “Only if you’ll come and lie down with me.”

  She gave a watery smile, the tears still falling softly down her cheeks. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “I disagree.” He gave a slight wince of discomfort as he took both her hands in his and pulled her up onto her feet. “Come lie down with me, Angel?” he invited huskily.

  She still thought it was a bad idea, but at the same time, she couldn’t resist the appeal in his tone and those warm green eyes. “You’re incorrigible,” she muttered as he kept hold of one of her hands and moved to the sofa.

  “And an opportunist,” Gabriel acknowledged without apology as he lay down on the sofa and drew her down beside him before taking her in his arms. He breathed in deeply as he buried his face in her hair. “Your perfume should come with a public health warning.” He chuckled softly. “I think what blood I have left all just surged into my cock.”

  “Gabriel!”

  He pulled back slightly to look down at her, the blush in her cheeks indicative of her embarrassment. An embarrassment not quite in keeping with a woman of twenty-eight who had been married for eight years. “You and Sinclair weren’t intimate, were you?” he asked slowly.

  “It’s true we had separate bedrooms, but Clive shared my bed whenever he felt like it.”

  “And did you go to his bed whenever you felt like it?”

  “No,” she acknowledged. “But it’s ridiculous to say we weren’t intimate.” She frowned.

  Gabriel settled more comfortably beside her, his erection pressing against her hip. “There are different forms of intimacy, Angel. The one I was referring to is expressing desire and need, verbally and nonverbally.”

  Her blush deepened. “We didn’t have discussions about our sex life, if that’s what you mean.”

  It wasn’t, not quite. Gabriel would have thought when a man and woman were intimate, and married as long as Angel and Sinclair, discussing sexual needs and desires came quite naturally to them. Hell, the intimate glances between his sister, Lily, and her husband, Jonas, was enough to ignite a damned fire, and they hadn’t been together anywhere near as long as Angel and Sinclair. It was also something Gabriel would quite happily have foregone being aware of when it involved his little sister.

  “I misjudged you, didn’t I?” He raised a hand and smoothed the hair away from the heat of one of her cheeks. “You didn’t share anything like what we had with Sinclair.”

  “Gabriel—”

  “Look at me, Angel.”

  She raised her head hesitantly and then was unable to look away again as Gabriel’s gaze held hers captive.

  He looked searchingly into her eyes, saw into the depths of her, before she broke that gaze and looked away. “I’m sorry, Angel.”

  She glanced back at him. “What for this time?”

  “Everything.” He winced. “My secrecy as to where I was going eight years ago. My bloody arrogance in expecting you would still be there, waiting, when I got back. The angry way I made love to you when you revealed you were married to Sinclair but had given birth to my son. The way I spoke to you while I was doing it. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Of course it bloody matters!” he said fiercely. “You were just a kid still, and placed in a vulnerable position not of your own making.”

  “I’m pretty sure I was there when Daniel was conceived.”

  “I’m pretty sure you were too.” He nodded. “But from your point of view, I must have looked like someone who had steamrollered over your life for five weeks before just as suddenly taking off and then not coming back.”

  That was exactly how it had appeared to Angel. She’d only had one year of university to go before she attained her degree, and then suddenly she was no longer that person but instead someone who was pregnant with the child of a man who had totally disappeared from her life.

  “I’m angry with myself, Angel, not you,” Gabriel admitted gruffly. “If anyone is to blame for what’s happening now, then it’s me. It was my going off to search for Caleb without bothering to explain myself to you that started this whole sequence of events. Your fear when you discovered you were pregnant. Your vulnerability when Sinclair offered you marriage and security for you and your baby. I should have been the one offering you those things, and I didn’t. It’s because I didn’t that you’re now in this mess.”

  “You’re being far too harsh on yourself—”

  “No, I’m really not.” He sighed. “God, how you must have hated—still hate me.”

  No, she could never recall hating Gabriel. Been bewildered by the fact that he hadn’t come back, perhaps. Frightened and panicked when she realized she was pregnant. Heartbroken when she learned Gabriel was on leave but hadn’t contacted her. She knew now that hadn’t been through choice, and that he had simply still been too ill to be able to come to her.

  The moment Daniel was born, all she had been able to feel was love as she gazed down at the tiny baby who looked so much like Gabriel. A tiny part of him she could love and cherish forever.

  “I didn’t. Not then, not ever,” she assured him. “Anger. Hurt. Betrayal. All those. But never hate. If I had never known you, then I would never have had Daniel, and I can never regret a moment of the time that led up to my having him or since.”

  Gabriel felt a tightening in his chest as he listened to Angel describe how she had felt thinking he had simply abandoned her.

  The choices she had been forced to make.

  Choices that were now threatening to destroy her.

  He vowed there and then, no matter what else happened, he would bring Daniel back to her. He owed her that much, damn it.

  “Er—is this a bad time…?”

  Gabriel’s arms tightened about Angel as she gave a self-conscious gasp at the sound of Zander’s voice. “Now is as good a time as any, Zander,” he assured, arching a mocking brow as he saw how uncomfortable the bigger man looked at finding them in what must appear to be an intimate moment. Well…it had been an intimate moment. Just not intimate in the way Zander obviously thought it was. Considering all his men now knew Gabriel had a child with Angel, and the fact they were now lying together on the couch, the other man could be excused for making that assumption.

  “Okay.” Zander was avoiding looking at them directly now. “Ian called. The shooter had long gone by the time he got onto the roof of the building.”

  “As I thought.” Gabriel grimaced.

  “But”—there was a note of satisfaction in Zander’s tone—“Ash had more luck with the man on the ground. He has him back in the interrogation room at Knight Security.”

  “You have an interrogation room?”

  Gabriel ignored the surprise and censure in Angel’s tone as he released her to sit up and swing his feet to the wooden floor. “Call him and tell him I’m on my way.”

  “Care to tell me why you’re wearing one of my T-shirts?” Zander eyed him curiously.

  “No—”

  “He’s been shot,” Angel cut across his denial. “Well, you have,” she challenged as Gabriel scowled. “If you don’t believe me, Zander, check the bin in your bathroom, and you’ll find his bloody shirt.”

  “It’s a damned flesh wound,” Gabriel growled.

  “Did it need stitches?” the other man prompted.

  Angel frowned her puzzlement. “No.”

  “It’s a flesh wound.” Zander shrugged.

  She raised her eyes heavenward as she rose to her feet beside Gabriel. “I suppose you have to actually lose a limb before an injury is classed as serious!”
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  The big man shrugged. “Only if it’s a leg and you can’t walk.”

  “Did you just make a joke, Zander?” Gabriel stared incredulously at the other man.

  Zander’s discomfort deepened. “It’s been mentioned I’m too serious.”

  “By whom?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” The other man turned away, indicating that was the end of the subject as far as he was concerned. “Do you want me to drive you to Knight Security?”

  “Or you could keep Angel here with you and let me borrow your SUV.”

  “I’m coming with you—”

  “You really aren’t, Angel.” Gabriel glowered his disapproval.

  She eyed him warily. “What are you going to do to the man Ash caught?”

  “Whatever I have to do to get him to talk.” He wasn’t about to lie to her. They needed as much information on Sinclair and where he was keeping Daniel and possibly Lena as they could get. By whatever means necessary.

  “This is the twenty-first century, Gabriel, and you can’t just go around torturing people in the middle of London!”

  He arched his brows. “I don’t remember saying anything about my torturing anyone? I employ other people to do that for me,” he added mockingly.

  “Gabriel—”

  “Angel.” He captured her gaze with his and held it. “Forget your squeamish principles for a few minutes and think about the nature of the man you married and the sort of men he would employ to do his dirty work. Then consider whether or not you want to get Daniel and Lena back or not. It’s as simple as that.”

  “Gabe—”

  “Answer me!” Gabriel ignored Zander as he continued to glower at Angel.

  She could feel the frustrated anger rolling off Gabriel in waves, knew that he had to be as anxious as she was to have Daniel back with them. It was just… She had never thought of… Hadn’t ever contemplated…

  Clive was a monster who dealt in the illegal sale of human flesh, drugs, and arms. The men he employed to carry out that work were as evil as he was. One of those men had tried to kill her or Gabriel earlier today, and the one they were holding prisoner had been an accomplice in that attempted murder.

  She straightened her shoulders. “I’m still coming with you.”

 

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