by Julie Miller
“Not possible.” Those deep blue eyes that had such a talent for noticing details raked over her from head to toe and back, pausing long enough in a couple of places to make her wonder if the heat in his condo had suddenly kicked on. “The front door’s bolted. The windows are locked. Your buddies are downstairs keeping an eye on things. Please don’t leave this condo to chase any black cars or follow up any leads on your own while I’m in the shower.”
“I won’t.”
Although his nod didn’t look as if he was quite convinced she’d stay put, he walked out the door. “Then make yourself at home.”
* * *
THE COLD SHOWER hadn’t helped much.
Gabe’s thoughts and his fears and his needs were full with the image of one woman...and it wasn’t Dani.
He toweled his hair dry and stepped out of the master bath to pull a T-shirt on over his jeans. The clock beside his bed read well past midnight, but he wasn’t tired. He was itchy inside his skin, eager to satisfy this hunger he felt around Olivia Watson that was emotional as much as it was physical. The guilt he felt at letting Dani die, at not being able to lay her memory to rest, didn’t seem to affect this powerful draw he felt toward Olivia the way it had with other women he’d met since losing his fiancée.
He knew the symptoms. He was falling in love. But he was a different man than he’d been when he’d fallen for Dani. Olivia was a different woman. She was his equal in so many ways. He’d been the experienced one in his relationship with Dani. He’d tutored her in the ways of making love and breaking stories. But there wasn’t anything about hard knocks and heartbreaks and digging for the truth and sharing passion he could teach Olivia. He just had to hang on for the ride and pray she wanted to be on it with him.
Gabe tossed his towel into the hamper and raked his fingers through his damp hair, debating for about two seconds before he marched out of the bedroom to seek her out.
His type-A personality wasn’t going to give this a rest until he did something about it. Maybe he just needed another look at her. Maybe if he could see one more time that Leland Asher and his thugs hadn’t found her, he’d be able to relax enough to get some sleep without worrying about where this relationship might or might not be going.
She hadn’t moved much. Gabe paused in the open doorway to the guest bedroom. He rubbed at the tension knotting the back of his neck, wondering if this gut-kick of reaction stirring inside his chest and behind his zipper whenever he got that first glimpse of her would go away if they did manage to stay together for a while after this case was solved. He wondered if Olivia did relationships anymore, after that idiot ex of hers had cheated on her. Hell, he wondered if he had any business trying to make something work with a KCPD cop.
Olivia was in the middle of the bed in a gray tank top and jeans. The lamps on either side of the bed bathed her skin in a golden glow and warmed the deep rich brown of her hair. She sat pretzel-style, with her sling, flannel shirt and running shoes tossed on the floor, and her gun, badge, phone and keys in a pile on the bedside table. But she’d placed the items from the drawer in a neat circle on the bed around her.
“You’re staring.”
“I’m enjoying the view.” Her cheeks heated to a rosy pink as she refastened the back of the framed photograph she’d opened and laid it gently on the quilt beside her. “And I’m wondering if your shoulder hurts as bad as it looks.”
She tugged the strap of her shirt aside to look at the fist-size bruise there. “I won’t be doing push-ups for a while, but it doesn’t hurt right now.” Her gaze came up to meet his and she swallowed. Gabe followed the tiny ripple of movement along her creamy neck and felt his own mouth go dry. “Um. I hope this is okay.” She touched the picture frame, apologizing. “I was checking to see if Dani had tucked a note inside or written on the back of the photo. You said to make myself at home. I haven’t found anything useful yet.”
While he appreciated her reverence to the mementos from his past life, he was more concerned by the angry mark on her cheek and the shadows of fatigue beneath her beautiful eyes. “We can move these things out to the coffee table if you want to sleep in the guest room.”
“Do you want me in the guest room?”
“I want you in my bed.” His wry laugh jarred the quiet inside the room. “Is that too honest?”
Unwinding her long legs, Olivia dropped them over the edge of the bed and stood. “You can’t be too honest with me, Gabe.”
“But I don’t want you thinking that’s the only reason I brought you here.” He watched her cross the room toward him. He gripped the door frame on either side to keep from reaching out to grab her and end this torment. “As long as I can see you or hold you and know you’re safe—as long as you don’t sneak out of here without me, you can sleep wherever you want.”
But he’d forgotten the part about being equals, about Olivia being a woman with a definite mind of her own. Keeping her gaze locked onto his, she sidled right up to him, winding her arms around his waist and pressing the sleek line of her thighs and hips against his. “Is this close enough?”
Gabe’s knuckles whitened on the door frame and he groaned as every male cell in his body jumped to attention at the warm friction between their bodies. “Close enough for what?”
“To keep an eye on me.”
Surrendering to her game, Gabe released his grip on the door frame and stroked his fingers through the velvety softness of her hair, framing her face between them. He dipped his head and brushed a gentle kiss beside the scrape on her cheek. “No. It’s not.”
“How much closer can a woman get?” She stretched up to nip her teeth against his chin. “Closer?”
He turned his lips to meet hers briefly when she kissed the corner of his mouth. His heart pounded against his ribs in anticipation. “Are you sure about this?”
Her stuttering breath whispered across his lips. “I want to be closer to you, Gabe.”
If they both wanted this, he wasn’t going to say no. He drew his hands down her back and slipped them beneath her shirt, finding the hot, smooth skin that his hands wanted to touch. At her soft gasp, he greedily pulled her strong body against his. Her small, pert breasts pillowed against his harder chest, spearing him with twin beads of answering desire. He turned his hands, sliding his fingertips beneath the waistband of her jeans to tease the curve of her bottom. The bold minx mimicked the same action, sliding her hands inside his jeans and shorts to pull at his backside.
“Skin on skin. I like it.” He dipped his mouth toward hers. “I’d like it better if it was skin inside skin.”
Her breathless need mingled with his own. “Show me.”
When Gabe claimed Olivia’s mouth, she was right there with him. Her tongue slid against his in a feverish caress. Her lips welcomed, took, softening beneath the assault of his mouth, then demanding a firmer touch. She suckled his lower lip between hers, rubbed her silken skin against his rougher jaw. The moans in her throat matched the needy hum in his chest.
They broke apart for mere moments to peel off shirts and toss them aside. Their lips reunited first, hungry for more of each other’s kisses. They shared a quick laugh when their hands reached for the snap of each other’s jeans, and they each gasped at the brush of fingers against their sensitized skin. Gabe backed into the main room so they had more space to explore and touch and taste, and Olivia followed. His jeans were hanging from his hips, his erection tenting the front of his boxers when he heard an urgent, guttural excitement in her throat and moved his lips to the tempting spot.
Olivia’s hands roamed over his chest and back, into his hair and over his rump, exciting every place she touched, setting his blood on fire. Gabe worked his lips against the bundle of nerves beneath her ear as he unhooked her bra.
He could barely catch his breath as he fondled her, and the proud tips strained against his palms. S
he tipped her head back and he kissed his way down her neck to the soft swell of her breast, teasing the tender skin with his beard, soothing it with his tongue. When he reached the pink, pebbled tip, he curled his tongue around it and drew it into his mouth, making her fingers clench against his scalp. He repeated the decadent feast on the other breast, her fingers digging through his hair, holding his mouth against her as she gasped beside his ear. “Gabe...”
“I know.” His body primed to burst into flame, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her into his bedroom. He dumped her onto the dark gray bedspread, shucking off his jeans and reaching for hers as she bounced.
He paused with his hands on her hips, his chest expanding and contracting in deep, uneven breaths. “Too caveman?”
Olivia started kicking off her jeans herself, reaching for him. “No.”
But Gabe pushed her back onto the pillows, loving the way the moonlight coming through the high windows caressed her bare skin, hating the way the shadows emphasized the marks on her face and shoulder. He sat on the edge of the bed, ignoring his own discomfort, and hooked one finger beneath the waistband of her pretty pink panties, sliding it back and forth across her belly, wanting to peel them off and put his mouth on her damp center yet holding back. “I don’t want to hurt you, love.”
“You’re kidding me, right?” Her eyes, deep green with the passion that stung her lips and made her breasts dance with each needy breath, zeroed in on his. She sat up beside him, facing him. “Other than the fact I might die if you don’t finish this, Gabriel Knight, I think I’m tough enough to see this through.”
She wrapped her hand around the bulge in his shorts and Gabe lurched into her grip. How could he have forgotten, for even one moment, that Detective Olivia Watson was no shrinking violet.
Fine. He could make her crazy, too. He slipped his hand beneath her panties and palmed her moist, swollen heat. Her breathing switched to short, ragged gasps, but she held his gaze. Then he thrust a finger between her hot, wet folds and her eyes drifted shut. He moved a second finger inside her and her thighs clamped around his hand as she whimpered with pleasure.
“You’re not so tough, Olivia Watson.” He leaned in to kiss her bruised shoulder, promising tenderness as well as need. “But that can be our little secret.”
Moments later, the last of their clothing was gone, Gabe had sheathed himself and settled between her legs. Sparks danced behind his eyes as he slowly entered her and filled her up. She raised her knees and hugged her arms around his shoulders, whispering against his ear. “Don’t think for one moment that I don’t want this, Gabe. That I don’t want you.” She hooked her heels behind his hips, inviting him to complete them both. “You are everything I need.”
Gabe pulled partway out and slowly pushed inside her again. Her lips found his and he moved again, faster and faster. Together they found that timeless rhythm. Like tinder and flame, they stoked the fires of intimacy and desire. When they reached that flashpoint, Olivia buried her face against his neck and cried out his name. She exploded around him and the tremors of her climax caressed him until he could hold back no more. He roared with his release and emptied himself inside her.
Careful of her injuries, Gabe collapsed onto the bed beside her and gathered her into his arms. He pulled the cover from the edge of the bed and folded it over their sated, exhausted bodies. Within minutes, Olivia was dozing against his chest, her arm draped around his waist, their legs tangled together.
Gabe pressed a kiss to the crown of her hair and settled back against the pillow, watching the night sky through the window near the ceiling. Something cold and painful inside him unfurled and drifted away on the moonlight.
Now he felt she was safe. Now he could lay his love for Dani to rest. His heart had found new life, new desire, new hope in Olivia.
* * *
“OLIVIA!”
Olivia smiled at the deep-pitched bellow and hugged her knees up to her chest in the sunny warmth of the window seat where she’d been reading.
When Gabe came running out of the bedroom in nothing but his hastily pulled-on jeans, she smiled. “Good morning.”
“I woke up and you weren’t there. I thought...” He raked his fingers through his coal-black hair that had already been rumpled by her hands and the deep sleep he’d finally fallen into after their second round of lovemaking. The shadow of his morning beard gave his angular cheeks and jaw a feral look. And that deep voice was a low lazy rumble now that the panic had dissipated. “Morning.”
She tossed off the cream-colored afghan she’d covered up with to ward off the chill of the early morning, tucked a slip of paper into the diary as a bookmark and stood. She walked across the open loft to the kitchen area and set the book on the edge of the granite-top kitchen island. “I made coffee.”
“I could use some.”
But when she circled around to the counter where the coffeemaker steamed, he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her up onto her toes for a firm kiss that was half passion left over from the night before and half reprimand for scaring him this morning. When her sock-covered feet hit the floor again, Olivia stroked her fingers along the stubbled line of his jaw in a soothing caress. The worry he’d felt when he’d awakened alone in bed still lingered in his eyes. “I’m okay. Sorry if you thought I’d left. I know you didn’t get much sleep and I wanted to get to work.” The fuzzy nap of her flannel shirt caught for a moment in the crisp curls of his dusky chest hair, as if telling her she needed to stay close to this man. Still, she made decisions with her brain, not some whimsical symbolism, and she moved away from his solid warmth to pour coffee into one of the mugs that she’d found in the cabinet. “Black, right?”
“Yeah.”
She topped off her own mug and added a shot of milk before pulling other breakfast items out of the fridge. “Eggs with your toast?”
“You cook?”
She swatted his arm when he joined her at the stove. “My grandpa taught me how. I actually enjoy it when I have the time.” She cracked two eggs into the bubbling butter of the skillet and retrieved the spatula she’d used earlier from the sink. “Which reminds me, I called my dad and brothers this morning to let them know I’m still okay. Duff and Keir are on their way over to spell Max and Trent, so they can get some sleep.”
That hadn’t been the most pleasant of conversations. While her father was relieved to hear she hadn’t been seriously injured by the driver who’d tried to run her down, he’d taken a long, fatherly pause when she told him she had stayed the night with Gabe. Is he treating you all right, Livvy?
A hundred percent better than Marcus ever did.
Well, he’s no standard to measure a man by.
Dad, I think you’d like Gabe if you had the chance to get to know him without Danielle Reese’s murder coming between you. She’d held her breath for a moment before adding, The two of you are actually a lot alike.
Uh-huh. He’d dismissed the possibility of him and Gabe ever burying the hatchet and getting along, and taken care of the business she’d asked about. I’ll call your brothers or come over myself if they can’t make it. You don’t go anywhere by yourself until we sort this out. Understand?
I do. Thanks, Dad. I love you.
“Liv?”
She snapped her thoughts back to the present and quickly flipped the eggs before the yolks turned to rubber. “I just wanted to reassure you that there will be someone watching us 24/7 now. Until we get this case solved and find out who owns that black car.”
“What did your family say when you told them where you were?”
“Um, well...” So he knew exactly where her thoughts had wandered off to. “You do get bonus points for helping me last night and wanting to keep me safe. But they made it clear that they’re here to protect me. Not you.”
Gabe lifted his mug in a toast. “I can live
with that.”
“Don’t worry, Gabe.” She pulled out a plate and dished up his breakfast. “If you get caught in the crossfire, I’ll be watching your back.”
“No. You’re the one in danger.”
“You were trapped in that fire, too. I don’t think these people care who gets hurt as long as it isn’t them.”
“I’m not going to have you taking any extra risks because of me. If Asher’s men come after me, good. Let ’em come. It’ll take the focus off you.”
“I’m not going to let anyone...” She caught her breath, stopping the argument before it went any further. Since neither of them would budge on protecting the other, she raised her hands in a silent truce and changed the topic. “I’ve been reading Dani’s diary.”
“I saw that.” Gabe stood there, a handsome, rumpled, stubborn devil, eating his breakfast. Olivia crossed to the opposite side of the kitchen island and pulled out a stool to sit. He pointed his fork at the diary when she opened it. “I don’t suppose you found anything. I didn’t miss her naming her informant or exactly what dirt she had on Asher and McCoy?”
Olivia flipped through the pages, remembering some of the entries there. “No. It’s filled with normal things a woman writes in her diary. Falling in love. Arguments. Concerns. Things she was looking forward to.” She glanced up at Gabe. “Things that frustrated her.”
He made a face and went back to eating. “Did anything jump out at you? A fresh set of eyes usually sees something new.”
Dani had been planning a simple, summery, outdoor wedding at her parents’ home in Kansas, with a second reception slated for the tony Cattleman’s Club here in the city. She wrote about how much she had learned from Gabe as a reporter, and the new places and life experiences he’d shared with her personally. But mostly, Dani had written about falling in love, and how, no matter what, she loved being with him. “She was a talented writer. Almost poetic at times.”
Gabe nodded, swallowing the last forkful of eggs. “Yet she could be completely straightforward and lose the purple prose when it came to the articles she wrote.”