by Wendy Haley
A man walked into the kitchen. If this was Donald Culpepper, he really went in for oversize biceps, ponytails and .45 semiautomatics. Now, Rae liked .45s as much as the next girl, but she didn’t feel the need to wear one in her own kitchen.
“Who are you guarding, fella?” she murmured.
After making himself a cup of coffee, he left the kitchen again. Rae set the bottle of champagne down near the outer wall of the house, then set about finding a way in.
She started with the obvious first, the door. It was locked, but the kitchen window wasn’t. All she had to do was remove the screen and put it back once she was inside.
The house smelled like state cigarette smoke. She opened the kitchen door a crack, and heard the sound of a television playing nearby. A soap opera. She listened for a moment, and finally placed it: “All My Children.” Apparently, Ponytail was a fan.
The best way to deal with a thug with a .45 was to avoid him, and hope there were no more like him around. She doubted that he’d keep his prisoner down at street level, where Peter Smithfield might find a way to signal a passerby.
She moved silently down the hall away from the sound of the television. The shades in all the front windows had been pulled down, leaving the stairs in dimness. She started up, keeping close to the banister to minimize possible squeaks. Not that the thug could hear her over the soap, but she wasn’t about to take chances. Once upstairs, she moved as quickly and silently as possible as she went from room to room.
She found Peter Smithfield in one of the bedrooms. He’d been gagged with duct tape and trussed like a Christmas goose, and looked very silly and very scared. She moved farther into the room and closed the door behind her.
“You’re in big trouble, Smithfield,” she whispered.
He nodded frantically, and for a moment she thought he might start to cry. Rae sighed. He had to have some good in him, she thought, or he wouldn’t have fathered such great kids. Of course, it might be a case of nurture over nature....
Smithfield made a muffled noise through the gag, and she got back to business. Her business. Taking the subpoena out of her pocket, she dropped it on his chest.
“This is official notice that you’re due in court to explain why you don’t pay your child support,” she said softly but with great satisfaction.
Something clattered downstairs, and her heart jagged into high gear. With a smooth motion, she drew her .380 and chambered a round. Smithfield’s eyes widened, and he made bleating noises through the gag.
“I’m not going to shoot you,” she said. “Not that I don’t think you’re a waste of skin.”
He obviously didn’t believe her. With a hiss of exasperation, she grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him to a sitting position. This time, he did start to cry.
“Come on,” she snarled. “I’m going to get you out of here.”
Preferably out the upstairs window, she thought sourly.
Jamming her fists onto her hips, she glared at him. “I’m going to take your gag off. But before I do, I want you to know that if you make any noise, those men will shoot us.”
He bobbed his head up and down, indicating understanding. Mercilessly, she ripped the duct tape off his face. His mouth opened into an 0 of shock.
“Hey,” she said, untying the bindings on his arms and legs, “it’s like taking a Band-Aid off. The faster, the better. Now, tell me how many guards are in the house.”
“Two.” He rubbed his wrists. “They were going to kill me.”
“Yeah. Right after you signed the house on Aberdeen back to them.”
His eyes widened. “You know about that?”
“Did you ever hear the saying about not fooling all of the - people all of the time?” she asked.
Another clatter came from downstairs, and Rae chopped the air with her hand, demanding silence.
“Time to go,” she said.
He turned that smarmy smile on her, and she regained her original urge to stuff him out the window and use him for a landing pad. She gazed at him for a moment, fighting some very uncivilized urges, then turned away.
Silently, she opened the door a crack and peered out. Finding the hallway empty, She moved out, keeping her back to the wall and her gun ready. With a jerk of her hand, she motioned for Smithfield to follow her.
He oozed out after her, making sure she was between him and the stairs. She grimaced. And here she’d been angry at Gabriel for being protective.
She realized now that he hadn’t been trying to take the least bit of her independence away from her, nor had he thought her incapable of handling the situation. It had merely been the instinctive reaction of a courageous man to danger. After seeing the contrast between him and Smithfield, she found she greatly preferred Gabriel’s brand of manhood. Not, she amended, that she intended to forego discussing it with him. At length.
She and Smithfield eased their way down the stairs. “All My Children” was still on. She paused, assessing the situation. Then she started down again, motioning for Smithfield to stay close.
“Hold it right there.” The voice was male and full of threat.
Unfortunately, it came from below and a little behind her, and she knew there was nowhere to run. Up or down, she’d be a dead-on target. Or rather, dead. Slowly, she raised her hands.
She glanced down, and saw that Ponytail had a partner. This one had blond hair cut so short she could see the sheen of his scalp below. Her gaze drifted down to his gun. Amazing how big a 9 mm barrel seemed when one was looking down into it.
“Toss the gun and come down,” Blondie said.
No choice. She dropped the .380 into his hand and went the rest of the way down the stairs. Peter Smithfield followed, keeping slightly behind her, of course. Blondie patted her down for other weapons, then stepped back.
“Into the den,” he ordered.
Rae, guessing, followed the sound of the television. She pushed the door open and went in. Smithfield crowded her so closely he nearly tread on her heels. A good thing, it turned out, because the first thing she saw was Ponytail lying unconscious on the rug.
And he was handcuffed.
She reacted instantly, instinctively. Even as she sprang to one side, dragging Smithfield with her, she saw Gabriel come hurtling toward Blondie. Hitting the other man broadside, he knocked him down so hard they both bounced. Gabriel landed on top. Jamming his forearm against the blond man’s throat, he squeezed the other man’s gun hand until Blondie cried out and dropped the weapon.
Gabriel slung the other man over onto his stomach, swiftly handcuffing his wrists. “You’re under arrest,” he growled as he straightened.
His chest heaved, and the light of battle turned his eyes to ice blue slits. Rae’s own breath came fast and shallow, but it wasn’t from exertion.
Gabriel MacLaren was much man. More man than she’d ever thought to find. And oh, Lord, he was looking at her as if...as if... Suddenly, she lost the ability to breathe at all.
He reached her in one long stride. Sweeping her against him with one hard arm, he kissed her. It was like being caught up in a hurricane, that kiss, and rational thought went spinning off in a firestorm of reaction. She clung to him, wanting more, more.
Just when her knees started to give, he tore his mouth from hers. “Seeing you here, a gun held on you...” His voice was low and intense, harsh with barely restrained emotion. “I’ve been stupid, Rae. Stupid and blind and stubborn.”
“So what’s new about that?” she asked, although her own voice betrayed the wild tumult of her feelings.
He didn’t smile. “I should have seen it before. Now that I do, I’m not going to let another moment go by without telling you.” Framing her face between his hands, he gazed into her eyes. “I love you, Rae. I love you hard and crazy and wild, and I will love you for as long as I draw breath.”
Rae looped her arm around his neck. He claimed her mouth again in a searing, torrid kiss, and this time her knees really did buckle. Finally, he let
her up for air.
“I was so mad when you left me today,” she gasped against his mouth. “And I was so afraid that something would happen to you before I had a chance to tell you how much I love you.”
“Ah, damn it,” he groaned. “Think of the time we wasted.”
“I wasn’t fair to you,” she said. “Because of what my ex-husband did, I asked more of you than was reasonable. I demanded faith without having the courage to give it in return.”
His grasp tightened. “There are so many things I want to say to you, so many things I want to share—”
Someone chuckled. Gabriel broke off, swinging around to look in the direction from which the sound had come. Ponytail was sitting up, his eye just beginning to turn a rich shade of purple.
“Mind your own business,” Gabriel growled.
“You gotta be kidding,” Ponytail said. “This is better than ‘All My Children.”’
Rae couldn’t help but laugh. “This isn’t television, boys. It’s the real thing.”
Ponytail laughed with her, then looked at Gabriel. “While you were romancing the lady, my associate and I discussed the possibility of working with the police.”
“The police are always agreeable to working with people who cooperate,” Gabriel said, adding, “and who have something of value to tell us.”
“Would you be interested if we told you that we were hired by a member of the city government?”
“I think I would,” Gabriel said.
Ponytail smiled. “What do they say in Hollywood? Oh, yeah. Have your people call my people.”
Rae took Gabriel aside. “You can’t make the arrest stick,” she whispered. “You’re under suspension.”
“Hah,” he whispered back. “On the way over here, I called my captain in the hospital. He was still woozy, but awake enough to call the commissioner and get me reinstated on the proviso that I come up with results. I’d call this results.”
“I’m so glad,” she said.
The sound of far-off sirens drifted in. With a shock, Rae realized that the door was open, and Peter Smithfield was nowhere to be seen. She met Gabriel’s cynical gaze.
“He’s run away again,” she said.
“Did you serve him?”
She smiled. “Do you doubt it?”
Gabriel laughed. Then he suddenly became serious, and the look in his blue crystal eyes made her tremble. “I will never doubt you again.”
“And I will always believe in you,” she murmured. “Always.”
The sirens grew louder. Rae moved into the circle of his arm, feeling as though the world had taken on a whole new shine.
Ah, love was a good thing. A very good thing.
Rae stood in the shower in Gabriel’s town house, letting the hot water rinse away the day’s happenings. She’d come here to wait for Gabriel to accompany his prisoners to the station to see that they were properly booked, printed and installed in a holding cell.
All in all, a job well done.
Peter Smithfield would probably never show up in court. Coward that he was, he’d simply disappear without a thought as to what might happen to his children. But Barbara would be all right, and Mike would make it even better.
And Rae had an idea. It would take some time, but she thought she might be able to work things the way she wanted.
For some reason, the tune of “Moon River” popped into her mind and took hold. She started humming along, and before she knew it, she’d started to sing. A slight noise told her she was no longer alone, but she only smiled and kept singing. Of all the places in the world, she was safe here. With Gabriel.
His hands came down on her shoulders, and she moved back a pace, bringing herself against his body. She rubbed herself playfully against him.
“Oh, darlin’,” he groaned. “’Moon River’?”
“I couldn’t help myself. It just popped into my head and wouldn’t go away.” Goodness, she thought, he was very happy to see her. “How did everything go?”
“They implicated the vice-mayor,” he said.
“Anton Taggett?”
“The one and only. And get this—Roth, the guy who suspended me, has been riding Taggett’s coattails toward the commissioner’s office. Talk about having friends in high places.”
“Well, I expect he’s not going to be on the department’s gotden-boy list much longer.”
“And I’m off the hook. Roth fabricated that complaint to get me bumped off the case. But now, Taggett is finished. Thanks to you...” Gabriel paused, having a great deal of trouble keeping his mind on business. “Damn it, Rae, I don’t want to talk right now.”
“Talk,” she said, merciless.
He took a deep breath. “Thanks to you, the Feds have come in on the money-laundering angle, and they were quite interested in that network of companies. They’re also sending someone out to talk to that Dietrick fellow.”
“Then we’ve won.”
“Darlin’,” Gabriel said, “we won the moment we touched.”
He soaped his hands and began to wash her. Rae gasped, aroused almost unbearably by the sensation of his soap-slick palms upon her skin. Reaching behind her, she grabbed a double handful of his hair, giving him unrestricted access to her body. He made the most of it, stroking and rubbing, exploring, teasing, caressing until she was shaking with need.
“Now that I’ve got your attention,” he murmured.
“Yes?”
“I want to talk about handcuffs—” his fingers stroked her swollen, aching nipples “—and your sudden appearance in that house.”
“I always keep a spare set of locksmith’s tools,” she breathed, closing her eyes against the exquisite sensation.
“I didn’t want you in danger.”
She nodded. “And I didn’t want you in danger.”
Gabriel considered her words and the meaning behind them. This was a new beginning for them, and he wanted it to be right. “Okay,” he agreed, “I can understand your feelings on that.”
“And I can understand your feelings in wanting to protect me. But—”
“But,” he finished for her, “we’re both in occupations that involve risk, and we both have to accept that.”
“Can you?”
He was silent for a moment, and her entire soul hung suspended, waiting for his answer.
“Yeah,” he said, “I can. Provided, however, that I’m allowed to back you up.”
“Wh-what are you saying?” she stammered.
“I’m impressed with what you do and how you do it. More than that, I envy the freedom you have. I want that for myself. And you have to admit that we make a formidable team, you and I.”
“I don’t understand what you’re driving at.”
He turned her around to face him. The intensity of his gaze all but burned her. She stood transfixed, her awareness of her surroundings fading as she became lost in his eyes. Mist rose around them, further enclosing them in a world created by love.
“I want us to be partners.”
“Boudreau and MacLaren?” she asked, half teasing.
“I don’t want you to change the name of your firm,” he said.
“You built it, and it should bear the name you gave it. But on a more personal level, I was hoping for something along the lines of MacLaren and MacLaren.”
Stunned, she could only stare. He smiled at her, a smile so full of tenderness that her heart felt as though it might twist itself into knots. With hands that trembled just a bit, he tilted her face up.
“I’m offering myself,” he said in a tone that made her pulse race. “Here’s my heart. It’s yours. Keep it or throw it away, but it belongs to you. It will always belong to you.”
It took her a moment to find her voice. When she did, it sounded strangely subdued. “You want...you want—”
Sliding his arm around her waist, he pulled her against him with an aggressive male possessiveness that sent a thrill racing through her.
“Marry me, Rae.”
> How arrogant, she thought, shifting position so that they fit together just a little more fully. Arrogant and not quite civilized, insufferable at times...and brave enough to love, truly and without reservation, holding nothing back. To be loved like that... Holy cow, she must have done something right in her life.
They would be partners. He wouldn’t try to limit her, or to hold her back. Rather, he’d stand beside her, giving her support with his mind, his will and yes, his strong right arm. And at night, when the world narrowed to one woman, one man, he would sweep her straight up to heaven. Guardian angel, bad boy, lover.
Many him?
“Oh, yes,” she said.
Epilogue
“What do you think about a nice, elegant church wedding?” Barbara asked.
Rae glanced at Gabriel. He lay on the sofa like a great cat, with Tom the Dog and the three kids climbing all over him. He grinned at her, but didn’t offer to help.
With a sigh, Rae turned back to her friend. “I’d rather have my toenails pulled out with rusty pliers.”
“Oh, come on, Rae,” Barbara said. “I survived the wedding experience.”
“Barely. ”
“Smart aleck,” Barbara retorted. “You’ve set a date less than two months from now. You have to let me make some plans.”
“We could elope,” Rae said with another hopeful glance toward her intended. “Gabriel?”
Gabriel carefully hid his amusement. He wasn’t about to get sucked into this conversation, a surefire lose-lose situation for the guy in the middle.
“I want what you want, lover mine,” he said. “If you insist on eloping, then elope we shall.”
“You will not,” Barbara said. “My children would never forgive you. You know Sarah wants to be your flower girl. And Little Mike wants to give you away—”
“Yeah, as long as I promise not to do any of that disgusting kissing stuff,” Gabriel said, his voice muffled by Joey’s knee. He lifted the child straight up, which instantly resulted in a chorus of demands for a ride. “Have mercy, Barbara. How about a nice service performed by the police chaplain, and then a wild party afterward? Most of the guys I know prefer beer and hot wings to pate and asparagus.”