Gabriel Is No Angel

by Wendy Haley

  He reached for her before his conscious mind had caught up. Fortunately for both of them, she’d already started to leave the car. By the time she bent to look in the window, he’d retrieved his wayward hand and put it back on the steering wheel.

  “Wait here,” she said. “I’ll be out in a couple of minutes.”

  He nodded. The moment she entered the terminal, he followed her. He had no trouble keeping her in sight; everything that made him a man had tuned in to her. If he’d been blind, some sort of male sonar would have enabled him to pick her out of a crowd.

  She cast a glance over her shoulder, and he knew she’d spotted him. That look had Keep Off signs all over it. He smiled when she swung around and came toward him.

  She stopped in front of him and put her hands on her hips, an action that pulled her top tightly against her breasts. Gabriel couldn’t keep his gaze on her face. He couldn’t. Hell, the woman had more curves than the law ought to allow.

  He took a leisurely visual journey down her body, his gaze skimming those full breasts, the sleek curve of her waist and hips, the long, shapely legs....

  “MacLaren, if you mess this up for me, I’ll—”

  “What?” he inquired.

  “I haven’t decided yet.” She gazed at him from beneath her lashes. “But it will be bad.”

  He grinned at her. “I can hardly wait.”

  “Listen, MacLaren. You look like a cop,” she said. “This guy’s the suspicious sort. Stay away from me.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, ripping off a salute.

  With a final glare, Rae turned away. She stopped briefly to buy a bouquet of flowers from a nearby kiosk. Then she blended in with the people waiting just outside the security checkpoint.

  She spotted her quarry right away, recognizing him from the photo the lawyer had shown her. Then she whistled under her breath. The attorney had shown good judgment in not telling her more about the guy—like the fact that he must have been six foot six. And proportionately broad.

  “You knew I’d charge more, you snake,” she muttered.

  The man strode along as though he owned the world. Rae waved her bouquet at an elderly woman behind him, as though greeting her long-lost aunt.

  With one smooth motion, she pulled the summons from her pocket and stepped in front of the man. He had good reflexes; she’d give him that. Before she could say anything, he knocked the papers from her hands and ran back toward the gate.

  Rae had good reflexes, too. Before he’d gone three paces, she scooped the papers up off the floor and ran after him. Uniforms materialized in front of her as airport security reacted.

  “Police!” Gabriel called from behind her. “Out of the way!”

  The uniforms vanished. Rae hustled after her quarry, but he’d disappeared. Then she noticed the door to the men’s room easing closed.

  “Hah,” she said under her breath.

  She went in after him. Only one other man was in the rest room, and he left in a hurry. Rae walked along the line of stalls. Spotting a pair of what had to be size-fourteen shoes, she extended the summons over the metal door.

  “These legal papers are for you, Mr. Shackleford,” she said. “You might as well take them.”

  “Oh, hell,” he said, and did so.

  A moment later, he came out of the stall. “You’re not shy, are you?” he asked, indicating their surroundings with a wave of his hand.

  “This would definitely be the wrong job if I were,” she agreed.

  Shackleford unfolded the summons and began to read, then peered at her over the edge of the paper. “I don’t suppose I could offer you something to tell the attorney that you didn’t see me—say, a couple of thousand?”

  “No,” she said. She didn’t even get angry; she’d been offered bribes before, and by better men than this.

  She also knew what was coming next. First the what’s-a-nice-girl-like-you-doing-in-a-place-like-this routine, then admiration for her honesty and, finally, a pass. Men really were toads.

  “I’ve got to admire your integrity,” he said.

  “Thanks.”

  “Buy you a drink?”

  “No, thanks.”

  She turned away. As she neared the exit, she spotted Gabriel tucked into the alcove behind the door. He fell into step beside her as she left.

  “I heard the guy offer you a bribe,” he said.

  “That stuff happens all the time,” she retorted.

  “Do you usually get asked out on dates, too?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Do you ever accept?”

  Her nostrils flared. “Bribes?”

  “Dates.” he growled.

  “I don’t see where that can be considered police business,” she said.

  Gabriel wasn’t sure what he’d wanted from her, but a snotty answer definitely wasn’t it. Actually, he didn’t even know why he was so annoyed. Yes, he did, damn it.

  He was jealous. Green-eyed, teenage-irrational jealous, and just because another man had asked her for a date. He had no right to his jealousy, as Rae had so graciously pointed out. Their relationship was strictly business.

  Yeah, right. So why was he standing here, seething with annoyance at the thought of her going out with another man?

  He wanted her for himself. He didn’t know why he wanted her, or exactly how he wanted her, but want her he did.

  “You owe me dinner,” he said, deliberately slinging one from left field.

  Rae blinked. “Huh?”

  “You owe me, Rae. You’d still be explaining things to Airport security if I hadn’t come along.”

  She studied him from beneath her lashes, wondering what game he was playing now. Wondering if it were a game at all, or something much deeper and more dangerous. Tension fairly radiated from his body, and something hard and hot had come into his eyes. It was almost as though his facade of civilization had cracked, revealing a glimpse of the predator below.

  Another woman might have been intimidated. But Rae was not any woman. He roused something reckless and untamed within her, wildness calling to wildness. It burst through her like flame, burning everything else aside.

  Gabriel’s eyes demanded her answer. But there was no choice for her, not really. Maybe there never had been. From the moment she’d met this man, she had been tied to him somehow. Danger didn’t seem to matter. Nor did caution, nor common sense.

  Her answer had been made for her long before now. In this one, rushing moment, however, she realized it.

  “Yes,” she said, perhaps agreeing to more than dinner.

  Chapter 6

  Gabriel gazed across the table at Rae. She was worth looking at. Definitely. She’d pulled her hair up in a prim knot, obviously hoping to project an air of propriety.

  Trouble was, propriety didn’t work on a woman with such reckless eyes. She wore a dark green sundress that would have been merely flattering on another woman. On her, it looked like pure sin. The square neckline delineated the full swell of her breasts, and although it was cut modestly high, it revealed a wedge of skin so smooth and creamy it made his mouth water.

  “You look—” he hastily edited the phrase good enough to eat “—gorgeous.”

  “You were going to say something else,” Rae said.

  He leaned back in his chair. “Don’t you know how to have a normal conversation?”

  “What’s a normal conversation?”

  “A normal conversation is when two people sit down and talk about things that interest them, hoping to find one or more subjects of mutual interest.”

  “Oh,” she said. Propping her elbows on the table, she leaned her chin on one palm. “We’re both interested in Peter Smithfield. Let’s talk about him.”

  “Let’s not.” Gabriel raised one finger, summoning the waiter. “We’d like another bottle of the chardonnay, please.”

  “Are you trying to stupefy me with alcohol?” Rae asked.

  “Ms. Boudreau, I can’t imagine any situation in which I cou
ld successfully stupefy you.”

  I could, Rae thought, remembering that kiss. The moment his lips had met hers, her brain had gone into suspended animation. Her body had swept into the breach, and everything it had said meant trouble.

  It wouldn’t be so bad if Gabriel weren’t so incredibly sexy, a condition intensified by the dim lighting of the restaurant. Sepia shadows lurked in every angle of his rugged face, making him look even more the predatory male animal.

  There were so many contradictions in his eyes—passion and tenderness, cynicism and a smoky sensuality hot enough to make steam. He’d go after what he wanted. And he wouldn’t stop until he got it. If that happened to be a woman, specifically Rae Ann Boudreau... Oh, boy. It would be like getting swept up in a hurricane, or maybe burned alive.

  Her pulse stuttered into high gear. She’d better think about something else, fast.

  “Why did you go into law enforcement?” she asked.

  He lifted one broad shoulder. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Call it a stab at normal conversation,” she countered.

  “I wanted to have a part in making the world a better place,” he said.

  Rae hadn’t expected idealism from him. It stirred her, and disturbed her, too. She let her gaze drift away across the restaurant. It was a very stark room, white linen tablecloths and napkins, white-on-white china. And it had nothing to keep her attention from drifting back to Gabriel’s fathomless ice blue gaze.

  “Did you?” she asked.

  “Did I what?”

  “Make the world a better place?”

  Ordinarily, Gabriel would have said something flippant, something designed to hide his real feelings. But he wanted Rae to understand. More, he needed to know she could understand.

  “I used to think so,” he said. “But sometimes I don’t know anymore.”

  She didn’t answer, just kept looking at him with expectant, sherry-colored eyes. He’d given her a provocative answer; now he knew he had to explain it.

  “I get frustrated when I arrest the same girls night after night,” he said. “I’ve tried talking to them, telling them the risks. ‘You’re going to die,’ I tell them. ‘AIDS, drugs, some john who goes too far.’ They don’t listen. I bust kids who are selling drugs to other kids. They’ve got no conscience, no future. I take them in, the courts let them out.”

  She nodded. “Do you ever get used to it?”

  He hadn’t. He’d tried to, because a thick skin was the only way to survive the job without getting flayed. But every time he saw a new girl walking the street, still looking fresh and healthy, he hurt. And a cop couldn’t let himself hurt.

  “Sure,” he said. “I’m used to it.”

  It seemed as though a shutter had snapped down over his eyes. He’d closed up, tight and smooth as a glass wall. It had happened so often with her ex-husband. After a while, she hadn’t been able to reach Danny at all.

  Rae knew there was no chance of getting through that barrier, and she’d had too much experience even to try. Her only protection was to retreat behind barriers of her own.

  “Now,” she said, “about Peter Smithfield.”

  “Can’t tell you a thing,” he said.

  “Won’t.”

  He smiled. “That’s right. Won’t.”

  Rae leaned back in her chair. Lifting her wineglass, she ran one fingertip around the rim. “I’ve spent a lot of time getting to know people,” she said. “People who like to keep their finger on the pulse, so to speak.”

  “So who hasn’t?” Gabriel carefully kept his voice neutral, but his stomach had begun to churn. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what came next.

  “Some of these people know the same things the cops know,” she continued.

  He was right; he didn’t like it.

  “And?”

  “You don’t know where Peter Smithfield is, MacLaren. Might as well admit it.”

  He smiled at her. “Rule number one, Rae, learned firsthand from every felon on the street. Never admit anything.”

  “I’m going to find him first,” she said.

  Something sharp and uncomfortable poked at Gabriel’s conscience. Because no matter how good she was, if she found Smithfield first or not, she wouldn’t be allowed to serve that summons. And he’d be the one to take her victory from her.

  He pushed that thought away. Twinges of conscience were something he wasn’t allowed to have. He had a job to do.

  Rae saw the detachment in his eyes. Then everything changed. His smile turned from cynical to sensual, and the desire in his eyes warmed to megawatt voltage.

  Her blood sang through her, turning her body molten and her brain to mush. Stupid, yes. Controllable, no.

  “Would you like dessert?” he asked, his voice as soft as a caress.

  Her gaze went to his mouth. “Are you having any?”

  “I thought I’d try that chocolate-passion thing the waiter suggested.”

  “Chocolate passion,” she repeated. An unfortunate tide, she thought. It evoked thoughts that weren’t at all sweet.

  “If you dare,” he said.

  She didn’t think he was talking about the dessert. But a challenge was a challenge, and Rae wasn’t about to let him back her down. In fact, she decided to up the ante. “After that steak, I don’t think I can eat a whole one,” she said.

  His eyes warmed further. “Then we’ll share.”

  Call and raise, Rae thought. Oh, boy.

  The waiter appeared. Rae studied Gabriel as he ordered coffee and chocolate passion, and tried to quell her churning emotions.

  Chocolate passion was the biggest, highest, richest-looking cake Rae had ever seen. The icing looked like pure fudge, and the top fairly bristled with slivered almonds. It was all she could do not to snatch up her fork and pounce.

  “Enjoy,” the waiter said, setting his burden on the table with a flourish. “Everyone says it’s sinful.”

  “Hooray for sin,” Gabriel said, watching Rae’s eyes. He’d never been jealous before. Even as he registered that revelation, his cynical cop’s mind began to hoot with laughter. Gabriel MacLaren, jealous of a piece of chocolate cake!

  Ah, but this wasn’t just any cake, he thought. This cake was being regarded by Rae in pure, unadulterated lust, and that was something he wanted for himself. Only for him. Compelled by an impulse he could neither understand nor resist, he pulled the cake closer to him.

  “I hope you’re joking,” Rae said.

  “What if I weren’t?”

  “Then I’d have to do something.”

  “Like before?” he inquired. “Something...bad?”

  “Real bad,” she agreed.

  “Mmm.” Deliberately, he took a bite.

  Rae watched him, shocked by the open sensuality in his eyes.

  Shocked, too, by her reaction to it. She had a powerful urge to kiss him and see if he tasted like chocolate. He would. He had to. Her lashes drifted down of their own accord, and it was all she could do to keep from climbing into his lap like a great big house cat.

  “Ready?” he asked, his voice low and slightly hoarse.

  She had the feeling he was talking about something besides dessert. Holding her gaze with his, he slid a bite of cake onto his fork and lifted it to her mouth.

  The taste of dark chocolate and almonds captured her senses. Ah, they’d named the cake well. It was as rich as desire, treacherous as sin and yet sweet as the rush of passion through her body. She licked icing from her bottom lip, and. saw something raw and powerful leap into Gabriel’s eyes.

  “You missed some,” he said, reaching to run his thumb across her upper lip.

  Rae felt that touch down to her toes, a wild rush of sensation that had every nerve quivering with expectation. He stilled for a moment, and she saw something raw and primitive surge into his eyes. Then, with deliberate intent, he moved his thumb along the sensitive corner of her mouth, then downward to her bottom lip. He rested there a moment, his gaze burning int
o hers, then slid his thumb along the warm curve of her bottom lip. Her breath went out in a sigh she hadn’t intended to make.

  The soft sound broke the web of sensuality that had claimed her. Dread settled like a cold hand on her heart. She’d let herself get carried away, and she’d let Gabriel see it. Bad. Oh, very bad. She sat back, out of his reach.

  Gabriel set his fork down because he couldn’t trust his hand not to shake. His body ached, actually ached, for her. And his heart was doing strange things, too. Hell, he’d lost it. Rae had him so wound up he didn’t know up from down.

  “Lady, you pack a wallop,” he said.

  “Don‘t—”

  “Don’t talk about it?” His brows contracted. “Pretend it didn’t happen?”

  “That works for me,” she retorted.

  He studied her, assessing the stubborn set of her jaw against the smoldering sensuality in her eyes. He wanted to touch her again. “You were moving right along with me, Rae.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

  “Liar.”

  “So sue me,” she snapped.

  Gabriel’s interest sharpened, focused. Despite her sassy reply, there was real retreat in her eyes. It was almost as if she’d been frightened by the powerful emotions they’d both felt. Strange, he thought, coming as it did from a woman who had shamelessly hounded her ex-husband right off the force. It was a contradiction, something that didn’t add up, and it interested him. He’d always liked solving puzzles.

  “Want another bite of cake?” he asked, smiling.

  Rae didn’t like that smile. It was too knowing, and much, much too cynical. He was trying to make her back down. She smiled back at him, holding his gaze for a long moment, then picked her fork up from the table.

  “Neutral ground, mister,” she said, pointing at the plate.

  He pushed the cake toward her, positioning it in the exact center of the table. “How’s that?”

  “Perfect.”

  She took a bite. His gaze fastened on her mouth, and she took great pains to lick every bit of chocolate icing from her lips.

  “You’re pushing it,” he said, his voice hoarse.

  “I’m eating cake,” she replied loftily.

  “Rae...”