by D. L. O'Neal
"After dinner."
Kalesia's head shot up. "So soon?" Panic began nibbling at the edge of her composure. She had come to rely on the men to act as a buffer between her and Gabriel. She darted a quick glance in Wolf's direction. His expression was innocently bland.
"The sooner we can find out who is behind the threat to you."
"Why didn't you tell me what you had planned?" Gabriel asked the question with a dangerous softness.
"You didn't ask." Wolf said, eyeing the puffiness of his friend's lower lip and the swollen tenderness beneath the high cheekbone.
Gabriel opened his mouth, then clamped it shut. "We'll talk later," was all he said.
Kalesia wondered what was going on between the two men and also wondered uneasily if Gabriel's battered appearance had something to do with the talk between herself and Wolf.
"Sure," Wolf agreed easily.
Dinner was finally over and she was washing the dishes when Kalesia heard the sound of an engine turning over. Drying her hands, she hurried into the living room.
Gabriel was standing in the open doorway, a stack of forgotten papers clutched in one fist, cussing luridly. Shutting the door with restrained fury, he threw himself onto the sofa.
"I, of all people, should know better than to trust Wolf when he's affable. The sorry SOB sent me out of the room on a wild goose chase to give him and the others the opportunity to take a powder." He looked up from beneath lowered lids, his gaze pinning Kalesia just inside the room.
"Get out of here." His voice was low and gravelly. "Do us both a favor and get the hell out of here."
Kalesia dropped the towel and ran up the stairs, her heart pounding. She shut and locked the door behind her, leaning weakly against the door's solid strength. Gabriel had looked as if he'd wanted to kill her.
She was tired. So tired of hoping this time someone would believe her, so tired of learning that trust was a mirage, so tired of being afraid.
Kalesia prepared for bed, performing the familiar routine like an automaton. She cleaned her teeth and then slid under the covers. She had trusted Gabriel, she thought bitterly, and where had it gotten her? Relying on a man who made his living killing and who looked at her as if she were his next victim.
Fate sure had a capricious sense of humor, leaving her little choice but to rely on a cold-blooded killer to keep her safe from a murderer. If it wasn't so dangerously ironic, it'd be downright funny.
Kalesia shot upright as she reran that last thought.
From the moment she met Gabriel, she had felt safe with him. Even after she held the damning evidence in her hand, she had never really doubted her safety with him, not for one instant. Slowly, she remembered conversations from the past several days. One, from last night, stuck in her mind and refused to go away.
Badger had been speaking with Gabriel, trying to get him to take a break. "Gabe, why don't you go rest. You've been at that for three days straight. Even with a clear head, the photos Harley sent over aren't the most pleasant way to spend an evening." There had been real concern in Badger's voice.
"Don't worry about Gabriel, Badger. I'm sure that in his line of work a few grizzly photographs won't unsettle him?" Kalesia cloaked the barb in a bland smile.
Gabriel lifted bloodshot eyes. Kalesia couldn't look away. His voice was dark and roughened with weariness and something Kalesia almost swore was pain.
"Let it be, Badger. When the lady's right, she's right. In my line of work, photographs of murder victims are old hat."
Even now, Kalesia could still feel the weight of Badger's disapproval.
Her head spun wildly. How could she stay with a man who had done the things Gabriel had? Wolf's disgusted lecture came back to haunt her.
But Gabriel hadn't denied it, she cried out silently.
Did you give him the opportunity? a little voice asked. Really give him a chance? Kalesia desperately tried to remember every word of the scene when she confronted Gabriel with the packet of evidence.
She had accused him, thrust the pictures at him and dared him to refute them.
The world tilted. She needed to think. Lowering her head into her hands, she rested it against her drawn up knees.
Think.
A montage of images battered at the wall of ice encasing her heart. An image of Gabriel tenderly holding her after making love, of his face, stark and ravaged, as he stared at the moon, of his uncertainty about her acceptance of his scars, of the nightmares he refused to acknowledge haunting his sleep.
Remember I would never hurt you on purpose.
Would you believe me?
I believe in you, Gabriel, and no matter what happens, I'll be there for you.
...believe me?
...I'll be there for you.
Dear God, what if she were wrong? Could the portrait painted of a hardened, cold-blooded killer be the other face of the scarred and haunted man she knew?
Only if every word uttered, every touch and action premeditated and calculated to deceive.
No!
No, she couldn't believe that, couldn't believe that the man who had come to seduce hadn't been, instead, seduced. With blinding clarity, the veils of mistrust were ripped away.
Whatever the lies were, they were not about hiding the fact he'd once murdered for a living. She had to believe that. Nothing made sense otherwise.
Could she accept him as the man he was, flaws and dark secrets included? The truth hit Kalesia with a solid blow. She couldn't not accept him. She loved him.
There had to be some other explanation besides the obvious for those photographs and reports.
The inner turbulence stilled and quieted. Her mind made up, Kalesia slid out of bed. At the bedroom door, she paused. Her hands went to the hem of her nightgown. Lifting it over her head, she threw it in the direction of the bed.
There was an inquisitive mew. Kalesia glanced down at the Siamese sitting by the door. "Sorry, Tia. I need to do this by myself."
What if he wouldn't accept her apology? What if he refused to listen? Her chin lifted. He'd listen even if she had to force him. A secret smile curved her lips.
If that didn't work, she'd seduce him.
LOST IN BITTER recollection, Gabriel didn't hear the door to his bedroom open. He'd kill Wolf for this stunt. Throwing Kalesia and him together had been an asinine idea. It was not going to erase the facts. Damn Wolf for trying to give me hope to cling to, Gabriel thought.
Arms behind his head, the white sheet bunched comfortably at his waist, his body instinctively tensed as he felt the presence of another person. Adrenaline surged through his bloodstream. A split second before he launched his attack, he sensed who had entered the room.
The drapes were open. In the dim light, he caught the sheen of her body. Gabriel's breath caught. Kalesia was naked. His lower body stirred and hardened instantly.
Kalesia moved across the room, her hair flowing like a cloak of dark flame around her shoulders. She didn't stop until she was directly beside the bed.
Gabriel's nostrils flared as he caught the delicate, female scent that was uniquely Kalesia's. Muscles unbearably tense, he waited, a tight lid clamped on the insidious slide of longing.
"I can't sleep."
Chapter 10
GABRIEL STARED at Kalesia in the darkness. Still without speaking, he lifted the covers.
She rushed into his arms. "Gabriel, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have--"
"Shh, Kalesia, later," Gabriel murmured as his mouth closed over hers. His tongue invaded her mouth, exploring and relearning the honeyed warmth with a savage need.
She sank frosted-tipped fingers into the depth of his hair, returning his caress with all the fierce, feminine strength she possessed.
Gabriel rolled over, pinning her beneath his taut, aroused frame. He strung tiny, stinging kisses from her lips to the curve of her breasts. "Oh, God, sweet witch," he muttered huskily against her soft skin. "Do you know how much I need you? Need you to bring warmth and chaos into my life? Need you to chase
away the night demons?"
He raised his head, all pretense seared away. "One last chance. If you're not sure, absolutely sure, this is what you want, walk away now. Because if you stay tonight, tomorrow I won't give you a choice." Propped up on one elbow, his shoulders held tight against a blow, he waited for her answer.
Kalesia smiled, her eyes gleaming. "If I hadn't been sure, I never would have come to your room. Make love to me," she pleaded, the passionate demand in her voice an ancient siren song.
Gabriel closed his eyes for a long minute. Slowly the corded muscles in his shoulders and back lost their tension. He sagged against her. "Thank God." He opened his eyes. "I've missed you, witch," he admitted raggedly.
"Would you have really let me walk out of this room tonight?" Kalesia asked, her breath coming faster as his hands teased the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.
Gabriel brought both hands up to frame her face. He struggled to get the words out. "I thought I could when I asked." He shook his head. "I was fooling myself. I knew that the moment you said you'd stay," he confessed starkly. "I could never let you go. Not if my life depended upon it." He claimed her mouth in a deep, soul-searing kiss, before taking the rosy tip of one breast in his mouth. He sucked at it, a deep, pulling action that wrenched a moan from her. He thrust one heavy thigh between hers, enchanted at the silken contrast of her flesh to his.
Kalesia arched wildly. She was on fire. It had been too long. Gabriel's mouth at her breast ignited a flame deep inside her, a flame that pulsed in rhythm to his sensual caress. His name broke from her lips when she felt the rough demand of his leg.
"Gabriel!"
His tongue traced a wet path to the peak of the other breast. The nub stood up, hardening in anticipation. "What, sweet witch, tell me what you want!" he asked, half plea, half demand as he teased her with the tip of his tongue, never quite hard enough, never quite long enough.
Her nails sank into the firm skin of his buttocks in sensual retaliation. He groaned. His teeth closed with gentle savagery on the tiny, hard bud.
"Yes! Don't tease me, not tonight. I want you too much." Kalesia ran her foot down the back of his leg. He arched, letting her feel the strength of his arousal. Gabriel seemed intent on overwhelming her tonight, driving from both of their minds the harsh words and actions of these last few days.
"Good, because I want you too much to take it slow." He fastened his mouth on her breast at the same time his fingers tested her readiness.
Gabriel gritted his teeth at the hot flood of desire that scorched through his blood. The fact that Kalesia had come to him, had trusted him, was the most powerful aphrodisiac in the world.
She was hot and slick. Gabriel thought he was going to go out of his mind as he surged into her, joining them in one swift movement.
"Next time," he panted. "Next time I'll take all night." Kalesia locked her legs around his pulsing hips, lifting and meeting each thrust eagerly. Her nails bit into his back, the small sting urging Gabriel on.
He increased his pace, driving them relentlessly toward the pinnacle of sensation. He nipped at the smooth skin of her shoulder and she arched upward, her head thrown back over his arm. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut and a strangled scream of feminine fulfillment escaped.
Gabriel wanted to watch her, to bask in her response, but his own release overtook him. His muffled shout followed hers as he poured his seed inside her. Gabriel collapsed on top of Kalesia, completely spent.
Gabriel stretched when Kalesia smoothed the line of his spine absently. "Umm. Now I know why Hannibal purrs." He lazily tasted the damp hollow of her throat.
"Chaos?" Kalesia queried, a teasing lilt to her voice.
"As in wild, primordial, unorganized," Gabriel elaborated, a tiny smile curving his mouth.
"I resent that," Kalesia defended. "I am not unorganized. Just because you arrange things with surgical precision, does not make me unorganized."
"I noticed you didn't object to wild and primordial."
She moved beneath him. There was a faint musical chime from the charm on her ankle. Gabriel felt an aching need spring to life. He'd never get enough of this woman. She was indeed the witch he called her. Kalesia had ensorceled him with a mane of wild red silk and eyes deeper and more luminous than Colombian emeralds.
Kalesia ran her hand down his side before slipping it across his stomach, halting teasingly close to his groin. A muscle jumped beneath the light caress. "I like wild and primordial. It makes me sound exotic and exciting."
"Trust me, lady, if you got anymore exotic and exciting, I'd expire from sheer exhaustion!"
Still inside her, he stirred, swelling and filling her with the promise of heat. Kalesia's lashes lowered, her lips curving in invitation. "Tomcats are notorious for their stamina," she said, her voice husky, flexing her nails against his hip.
Gabriel sucked in a deep breath. "Never let it be said that I failed to rise to a challenge. I have a reputation to protect." Laughter rumbled from deep within his chest.
As primitive as their earlier mating had been, this was, true to his promise, slow and tender. Kalesia wasn't sure, but she thought it lasted forever.
A long while later, his arm around her shoulder, Kalesia asked quietly, "You weren't a cop, were you?" Propping her chin on his chest, she waited for his answer.
"No." He met her gaze unflinchingly, holding nothing back. If a person hadn't known Gabriel very well, the subtle sign of strain would have gone unnoticed.
But she knew Gabriel very well, Kalesia thought contentedly. Perhaps the only one that did. She saw the tightness pulling at the corner of his eyes, thinning that beautiful, sexy mouth, felt the tensile strength of his arms as they circled her loosely.
"How much of it was true?"
Pain flickered, like the serrated edge of a blade, across his face. "Most of it."
"I don't believe it," she denied, a stubborn set to her mouth. It had taken her days to see beyond the facade created. Once she had, though, nothing would convince her that Gabriel was a cold-blooded killer.
"Believe it," he told her harshly, surging to a sitting position.
Kalesia sat up, too, the sheet across her legs. She pleated it as she considered him, her head tilted to one side. "I believe you're capable of killing, but not as an assassin interested only in money."
"Trust me, I earned my paycheck. Whether your working for the government or freelance, you're getting paid to kill," he retorted. "It's all the same."
Kalesia disagreed, but held her tongue. Instead, she invited, "Tell me about it."
He shot her an enigmatic look. "Are you sure you want to know? You might find the truth worse than the fiction."
"I want to know. You tried to hide the truth before and look where we wound up." Her logic was unshakable, she thought. Nothing could be worse than her imaginings.
"Once I tell you, we might very well be in exactly the same situation. Or, this time you might leave."
"Trust me," she said without thinking. Though he didn't say a word of reproach, Kalesia could see he remembered her previous avowal of faith. She placed a hand on his arm. "I believe in you, Gabriel. Please believe in me."
He went utterly still beneath her gentle touch. Suddenly, his hand shot out to cover hers, crushing the bones of her fingers.
"I have to. But God help us both if what I tell you drives you away." He sounded tormented. "I don't know where to start."
"Start at the beginning. It won't drive me away," she promised, a burning sensation in her chest.
He still gripped her hand. "I was a loner as a kid and didn't mingle well, not even with my parents. They tried. It must have been hard on them. After a while they quit trying. I don't blame them."
"I had a reputation for looking for trouble. Nothing really serious, fights mostly. But the other kids were scared of me because I'd do whatever necessary to win. I was fast becoming a hard case. One of my counselors recommended the military. He probably saved me from prison."
&
nbsp; Gabriel shrugged. A stray gleam of moonlight highlighted the wicked, curving scar on his shoulder in bas-relief. "My parents were more than willing to sign the necessary papers, so I joined. I liked it, but still felt something was missing. That changed when a representative of Special Forces approached me while in jump school. I was accepted. For the first time in my life, I felt at home. I specialized in weaponry and cross-trained in operations and intelligence."
"I was good, very good. Rifle, knife, or hands, it didn't matter. I was placed in an `A' Team. After reaching Vietnam, I completed the COC--Combat Orientation Course," he explained at her puzzled look. "I was a hard-ass," Gabriel admitted. "Out to prove to myself and the world that I had what it took. I volunteered for Command & Control at Da Nang. Everyone told me I was dead meat that C&C North was the toughest possible duty. But, hell, I was young and indestructible."
"I learned fast. You learned or died, and sometimes you died anyway. We were ordered to do recon, locate suspected POW camps, to make snatches." He paused, and then said bluntly, "And sniper attacks." He speared her with a hard glance. "Are you sure you want to hear this?"
Kalesia stared back calmly. "Yes." Gabriel shrugged.
"Unlike a lot of others, I came home unscathed. I know it sounds trite, but by that time the Army was my home. So I re-upped. Because of my experience at locating POW camps and making snatches, I was asked to volunteer for a Black mission. We were to infiltrate and bring home soldiers left behind in camps at the end of the war. You have to understand, this was several years later and the spin was that no POW remained in Southeast Asia. What we were going to do was not officially sanctioned by the military or the government. To make a long story short, my Team was sold out and I was captured. The rest of the men were killed." His hand clenched then slowly straightened. "You're trained to cope with the possibility of capture but," he drew an unsteady breath, "but the reality is something else again. I wanted to die. There are so many ways to inflict pain, ways a normal mind can't comprehend."
Gabriel forgot about Kalesia. It was as if a dam had burst, the words just kept flowing out in an unstoppable flood. "Small things, innocuous in themselves, can be the worse," he whispered, remembering mosquitos on his bloody flesh and the agony of river water sliding down a throat raw from screaming. Water his body desperately needed, but was often deadly because of the bacteria and parasites it housed.