Gabriel Is No Angel

by Wendy Haley

Heedless of the warning in his voice, she took another bite. She took that bite as if it was the most sensual—and sensuous—thing she’d ever done. In a way, it was. She savored the chocolate even as she savored the flaring reaction in his eyes. Arousal washed goose bumps along her spine as she watched it happen to him.

  She took another bite. Another. He didn’t even attempt to pick up his fork; all his attention was focused on her mouth. She shouldn’t do this, she knew. There would be consequences. But recklessness had her in its grasp, and she intended to ride it no matter where it took her.

  Noticing a tiny dab of icing on the tip of her index finger, she licked it off. Slowly. While staring right into Gabriel’s eyes.

  And then she smiled.

  “Okay,” he said, standing up. “That’s it. Check!”

  The waiter appeared as if by magic. Gabriel dumped the contents of his pocket into the man’s hands.

  “Hey, thanks,” the waiter said, eying the pile of bills. “I guess you liked the cake.”

  “Yeah,” Gabriel growled, pinning Rae with a burning, ice blue glare. “Let’s go.”

  “Am I under arrest?” she inquired.

  He cursed fluently under his breath, barely resisting the urge to throw her over his shoulder and carry her off. He’d had it. Finally, truly had it. “Let’s go.”

  “I don’t know,” she said, batting her eyelashes at him. “You’re awfully big and scary right now.”

  “Get!”

  Rae got. Or rather, she sashayed, swinging her hips with deliberate insolence.

  She expected an argument once they’d gotten outside, but he didn’t say a word as he walked with her to the restaurant’s tiny parking lot. He even seemed relaxed as he strode along beside her. Triumph bubbled through her veins. He’d played his little game, and had his bluff called. Maybe next time he’d think before playing again.

  “Thanks for dinner,” Rae said as they reached the car.

  “Although it was supposed to be my treat. Just—” Her voice trailed off into nothingness as she got a good look at his eyes.

  They were as clear as blue ice water...and not even remotely civilized. Anger lit those crystalline depths, partner to a desire so hot Rae could feel the impact of it right down to her soul.

  She’d miscalculated.

  Gabriel MacLaren was not a man to be trifled with, and she’d stepped way over the line. He would not be manageable just now. He wouldn’t even be reasonable.

  “Now, MacLaren—” she began.

  Words became a gasp as he swept her against him with one hard arm. Rae wasn’t a weak woman, nor a docile one, but she found herself in the car before she could even consider reacting.

  “Hey!” she yelped.

  Gabriel came in beside her. She raised her hands to fend him off, but he grasped her by both wrists and tugged her off balance. She found herself sprawled across his lap, imprisoned against the hard wall of his chest.

  He slid one hand into her hair, loosening it from the knot. Her skin felt hot, oversensitive, and she shivered as the hair came tumbling down upon her almost-bare shoulders. His breath went out in a hiss, and he gently combed his fingers through the mass of curls. Desire flared hotter in his eyes, burning everything else away.

  He claimed her lips in a kiss so hot it seared her to her toes. Her conscious mind suggested resistance. She even managed to bring her hands up between them to push him away. Instead, however, she laid them flat on his chest. He was hot to the touch, and his heart hammered hard against her palms. Against her will, against all caution, she spread her fingers out across the hard shelf of his pectorals.

  He tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Rae sighed. Or maybe he did. Somebody did. Then she stopped wondering, because he felt so good. His tongue slid across hers in a caress that sent arousal coursing through her in a sweet, hot tide.

  She shivered as he cupped the back of her head with one big hand. The gesture was both erotic and tender, and stirred the fires of her passion still higher. Mindlessly, she slid one hand into his hair and hung on tight.

  The world seemed to begin and end here in his arms. She forgot the cramped seat, the streetlight outside, everything. For this moment, only Gabriel MacLaren existed.

  She met his roving tongue with her own, eager to taste his passion, his heat. And he gave it. All of it. Everything. It felt as though she’d stepped in flame. There was no thought of restraint, no thought of anything but pleasure gained, pleasure given.

  He broke the kiss slowly, slowly, drawing her bottom lip into his mouth on the way out. Rae gasped, a soft, urgent sound of arousal. He ran his tongue over her lip, then traced a wet, hot path across her cheek to her ear. She shivered as he traced the delicate shell shape, then delved inside to evoke responses she didn’t know she had.

  “Oh,” she whispered, sighing into his mouth.

  Gabriel nearly lost it then. He’d begun this to teach her a lesson, but it had become something else entirely. The moment he’d touched her, his annoyance had been burned away in a wild torrent of desire. He only wanted to touch her, kiss her, possess her.

  He ran his hands down her back and was gratified when she arched in response. Like a cat, he thought dazedly. A beautiful, sexy tigress—complete with claws. It excited him. Her back fascinated him, the smooth, strong sweep of her spine, the taut female muscles, the fascinating curve where her waist met her hips. He thought about stopping there. But he’d fallen into the clutches of a passion much too strong to resist, and he had to have more.

  Slowly, giving her ample time to stop him, he slid his hands up her sides. She didn’t stop him. Breath suspended, he moved higher, cupping the sweet weight of her breasts in his hands. He groaned softly as he felt the hard points of her nipples against his palms. Damn, but he wished they were somewhere private!

  Gently, he rubbed those erect nubs with his thumbs, his heart revving into high gear when she gasped in sheer, voluptuous pleasure. He bit softly at her mouth, inciting her further. She arched against his hands. Almost beyond control, he kissed his way over her chin and down her throat, pausing to press his open mouth on the frantically beating pulse point. there. He moved downward, savoring the smooth skin of her chest, then ran his tongue across the beginning swell of her breasts.

  Rae clenched her hands in his hair, holding him against her. He gave her what she demanded, laving her skin with his tongue, making teasing little forays beneath the edge of her dress. She could feel him hot and hard beneath her. The awareness of his arousal stirred her so powerfully that she couldn’t keep herself from rubbing against him.

  His breath went out sharply, a hoarse, urgent sound. He looked up at her. His eyes were passion glazed, his face taut with passion. The sight stirred her unbearably. She traced the hard line of his lips with her fingertip, then delved for a moinent into the wet heat of his mouth. She saw it impact in his eyes, felt it in the surge of his erection beneath her.

  Anxious to get to his skin, she fumbled open the top three buttons of his shirt. She slid her hand beneath the fabric, skimming muscle and hair and heat. He groaned against her chest as she skimmed her fingertips across his small, tight nipple.

  “You like that,” she whispered.

  “I like that,” he agreed.

  Slipping two fingers beneath the bodice of her dress, he explored the lush curves of her breasts, her heat, the differing textures of her skin.

  “Oh,” she gasped, nearly undone by the sensation.

  Gabriel stilled, awash in need. A moment more, and he wouldn’t care where they were or who was watching. And Rae deserved better than that. He wanted to make love to her without worry, without reservation, without restraint.

  “Rae,” he groaned. “This isn’t the place for this.”

  She stiffened as the world intruded, bringing all its conflicts and complications with it. She had no business being here, hung like gift wrap around Gabriel MacLaren. Bolting from his lap, she slid into the other seat.

  “Take me home,” she sai
d.

  “We need to talk about this.”

  “No, we don’t.”

  “Rae—”

  “Don’t.” She smoothed her hair with shaking hands. “We can’t be doing this. You know why.”

  Gabriel studied her with narrowed eyes. Sure, he knew why. Conflict of interest. He’d had no business kissing her, now or ever. But she’d tweaked him to the point that his testosterone had done his thinking for him, and he’d fallen right into the trap. And now she had the gall to sit there looking aroused and outraged and too damned gorgeous for words.

  Clever girl. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up selling insurance like her ex-husband.

  “You were right along with me,” he growled, annoyed because he couldn’t keep from saying it.

  Rae glanced away. “I know. Look, MacLaren. I’m no tease. You caught me at a... weak moment, I guess, and things got a little out of hand. I’m sorry.”

  A little out of hand? he thought incredulously. Hell, they’d both been ready to make love right now, right here. He didn’t think things would be different tomorrow. She had sparked his very soul, and things weren’t going to cool down until he’d found a way to get her out of his system.

  He studied her a moment longer. Then he reached out, pulling her back into his lap. Instantly, his body reacted, and he wanted nothing more than to start touching her all over again.

  She felt it, too. Dropping his gaze to her breasts, he saw her nipples beneath the bodice of her dress. Triumph shot through him. Maybe, just maybe, this game was even. She couldn’t touch him without being touched in return, and her body seemed to be determined to betray her.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice just a bit breathless.

  He smiled. “Just taking you home, honey-child.”

  Slipping out from beneath her, he got out of the car and walked around to the driver’s side.

  Rae watched him surreptitiously as he drove. Now that she had some control over her emotions, she began analyzing the night’s events. Unfortunately, two plus two kept coming up five. Still, there was a solution. Since Gabriel’s touch seemed to send her brain into a tailspin, she’d just have to keep him from touching her. Good. Great. Ought to work.

  As though reading her mind, he turned to look at her. The moment their gazes met, her stomach fell straight to her knees.

  Oh, brother! She could control the touching thing—she hoped—but how was she going to keep from looking at him? She felt as though she stood at the very edge of a cliff, one foot sliding, the other on a banana peel.

  He pulled up in front of her apartment building. Putting the Taurus in Park, he swiveled to look at her.

  “Your bedroom light is on,” he said. “It wasn’t on when we left.”

  “That’s what I love about cops,” she retorted. “They always notice what’s none of their business.”

  She pushed her door open and got out. Before she’d gone five steps, Gabriel caught up with her. She stopped, swinging around to glare at him.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “You didn’t answer the question,” he said, his voice silky with menace.

  She tilted her head back to meet his turbulent gaze levelly. She’d had enough of Detective Gabriel MacLaren for one night. Still, even now, irritated as she was, her body thrummed like a well-oiled machine simply because he stood beside her.

  If he touched her, he’d know it. She couldn’t risk it. Her body she might be able to ignore. But he seemed to be able to twist her emotions out of kilter, and that she couldn’t trust.

  “Back off, MacLaren,” she snarled.

  “No,” he growled. “Answer.”

  She studied him with narrowed eyes. “You’ve become monosyllabic, Detective.”

  His fingers spread out over the curve of her shoulders. Rae’s pulse rate skyrocketed, and she was appalled by the treachery of her own body.

  “I’ll come up with you,” he said.

  Rae would have extracted her teeth with a spoon first. “I’ve got company,” she said.

  “Who?”

  “Company.”

  They stood toe-to-toe for a moment, locked in conflict. Then, with a muttered curse, Gabriel let her go. She wasn’t going to give an inch without a major fight.

  Besides, it wasn’t his business who her company was, as long as it wasn’t Peter Smithfield.

  He watched her walk into the apartment building. Of course, Rae never just walked. She moved with a graceful sensuality that aroused him powerfully.

  He didn’t want to feel like this. He didn’t want her to have that kind of power over him. Naturally, his treacherous memory chose that moment to conjure up the remembrance of the first time he’d laid eyes on her. She’d looked like pure sin in that skimpy belly dancing costume, a vision of smooth, feminine curves, skin like cream-colored silk and moves that had dried his mouth and made the rest of his body burn.

  She’d looked at him. Only him. And she’d danced for him. Only him. He’d felt matched to her in that strange, magical moment, soul to soul, and he’d wanted nothing more than to carry her off and claim her.

  Just before she went inside, she turned to look at him. He swallowed hard. She was in half profile, giving him a clear view of the lovely curve of breast and hip. The light from the open door turned her hair into a bronze halo around her head, and there was such sensuality and insotence in her eyes that he took a step toward her.

  Then she turned and went inside. He clenched his hands into fists, resisting the urge to follow her. Somehow, he managed. After a moment, he even managed to turn back to the car.

  Who was up there?

  It was none of his business, as Rae had so graciously pointed out. Theirs wasn’t a romantic relationship. Hell, theirs wasn’t a relationship at all. Just because they struck fire whenever they touched, just because she tweaked emotions in him he hadn’t even known he had... Involuntarily, he glanced up at that lighted window again.

  Who was up there?

  “Stop being a boob,” he growled under his breath.

  He was a cop. Cops were objective.

  Without his permission, his gaze drifted back to that lighted window. Yeah, right. Objective.

  It was going to be a very long night.

  Chapter 7

  Sleep fogged, heavy with the MacLaren dreams that had haunted her all night, Rae staggered into the kitchen the next morning. Little Sarah sat at the table, eating a bowl of Froot Loops.

  Rae perked up. “Hey, I love Froot Loops.”

  “Mama bought them yesterday,” Sarah said. Morning sunlight turned her hair to spun gold and gilded the long lashes rimming her blue eyes. “We got Frosted Flakes, too.”

  “Frosted Flakes!” Rae groaned, wallowing in a wash of memories of early mornings spent at the kitchen table at home, a table so familiar that every speck in the Formica top was like an old friend. “I’ve got to have Frosted Flakes.”

  “What, no bran?” Barbara asked from the doorway.

  Rae smiled over her shoulder. “I’d rather die. Hey, I noticed you cleaned the place up. Thanks.”

  “It was the least I could do after you took us in.”

  “I’m not much of a housekeeper, I’m afraid,” Rae said.

  Barbara came into the room, a shy smile on her face. “Well, we all have our talents. But took, we can’t impose on you like this forever. It’s time we started looking for a place.”

  “Now?” Rae was surprised that she was so reluctant to have her solitude back. “How much money do you have, Barbara?”

  “Well—”

  “Twenty-five dollars and sixty-one cents,” Sarah announced.

  Barbara blushed. “I—”

  “I don’t mind you being here,” Rae said. “Not that I want you to think this is charity or anything, I mean, uh...”

  “I know what you mean,” Barbara murmured.

  Before Rae knew what was happening, the other woman gave her a quick, hard hug. Rae blushed, to her astonishment.
<
br />   Barbara laughed. “What’s the matter, Rae? Are you afraid someone might think you’re a softie inside?”

  “Oh, hell,” Rae muttered. “I need a cup of coffee.”

  “I saw my daddy yesterday,” Sarah announced.

  Rae and Barbara turned in unison. “You did?”

  The child nodded. “When we were at the store. I was looking out the big window in the front, and I saw Daddy getting on a bus.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me, hon?” Barbara asked.

  Sarah shrugged. “Sometimes you cry when we talk about Daddy.”

  “Ah.” Barbara’s chin took on a determined tilt. “That’s all changed now, sweetheart. You can tell me anything, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Which way was the bus going?” Rae asked.

  The girl shrugged.

  “We were at Morton’s Grocery,” Barbara offered.

  Rae crouched beside the child. Taking two spoons, she laid them at a ninety-degree angle. “Okay, sweetie. Here are the streets where Morton’s is. And here—” she placed the salt at the intersection “—is the store. Can you tell me which street the bus was on?”

  Sarah pointed. “That one.”

  “Now, can you tell me which way the bus was going?”

  “Uh-uh. Can I watch TV?”

  “Sure.” Rae patted the girl’s shoulder. “You did good, sweetheart.”

  Once the girt was out of earshot, Rae turned to Barbara. “I need any name that might be associated with your husband. Previous wives, family names, names of friends, business associates... Better give me addresses, too.”

  “I’ll make a list. Do you think you can find him again?”

  “I’m going to do my best,” Rae promised.

  A short time later, armed with a list, Rae headed for work. She rode downstairs with several of her neighbors, including the new guy who’d just moved in down the hall. He was quite the hunk, Rae thought. Tall and tawny haired and with a twinkle in his eye that was mighty attractive. Nice, too—shook her hand as though he meant it when he said he enjoyed meeting her.

  It was a shame she’d become fixated on a low-down, conniving, drop-dead-gorgeous cop;

  The elevator doors opened, revealing said low-down, conniving, drop-dead-gorgeous cop. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and his jaw was furred with a day’s growth of beard.