by Lisa Eugene
But what would happen to Gabe?
She pushed away the nagging question and paused when she found a picture of Dr. Victoria Rollins and her husband. Victoria was a petite woman who wore thick glasses on a studiously pensive face. Her husband was thin with a prominent aquiline nose and deep set eyes. Maggie had never seen a picture of her husband but remembered hearing that he too was a physician, and about some big malpractice case he’d been involved in. She couldn’t quite remember the details as she wasn’t one to engage in gossip at work. She read through a few more documents and was about to examine another, when a picture of an attractive older man drew her attention. She picked up the newspaper clipping, her brows pulling together with hazy recognition.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Gabe asked the question for the second time that day. Only this time there was no humor laced in his voice. His stony timber produced an instant numbness in her limbs.
She looked up guiltily, the censure in his eyes making her cringe. His muscular chest was bare, the stitched wound on his shoulder exposed and raw. He tossed the cleaning supplies he’d been holding on the bed and stalked over to her. Angrily he plucked the newspaper clipping of Cane Howard from her grasp.
“Forget you saw this picture, Maggie.”
“Why?”
“There are things you’re better off not knowing.” He hastily shoved the loose papers back into the envelope.
“I already know what you’re planning on doing with the research data.” She rose up on her knees and followed his movements as he walked around the room.
He ignored her, reaching for his backpack, but she could see his square jaw tense as he issued a harsh curse. She took a deep breath and plowed through her common sense.
“That research belongs to Cryostar, Gabe. They’ve been working on it for almost a decade. You should give it back.”
He pulled a shirt from his bag, his dark eyebrows angry slashes across his forehead.
Maggie frowned as she watched him roll it up and pull it over his head, the heavy muscles of his chest and arms rippling with his movements. Her gaze followed a smooth trail of dark hair that disappeared into his pants, and she quickly harnessed her meandering thoughts.
“What are you doing?” she asked, her gaze landing on the dressing supplies on the bed.
He stopped and turned to her abruptly, his face surprisingly placid. “I’m trying very hard to stay calm. You need to stay out of this.” He paused and said softly, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
She examined his face and for a fleeting second caught a hint of vulnerability in his dusky eyes. Her heart melted with a liquid warmth. Suddenly and inexplicably she cared deeply what happened to him.
“Sit.”
His brows wrinkled in confusion.
“Sit.” She patted the space on the bed next to her.
He watched her warily, but obeyed, lowering his large frame to where she’d indicated. She was beside him, still on her knees. He didn’t object when she grabbed the edges of his tee shirt and drew it up over his head. The action caused thick locks of wavy hair to fall over his eyes, and leaning close, she brushed them off his forehead. She was acutely aware that his face was now in line with her breast, and that she’d not put her bra back on after her shower. Ignoring his silent stare and the small blasts now detonating along each nerve from his nearness, she gathered up the dressing supplies and assiduously examined his shoulder.
“If you don’t clean this, it’ll get infected,” she scolded gently.
“I intended to, but someone pissed me off.”
“Funny.”
“Ouch!” He winced and eyed her threateningly when she applied a liberal amount of antiseptic to his wound. “Take it easy, Nurse Ratched.” A teasing smile tickled his sensuous mouth.
She scowled at him and continued. “You have something against nurses?”
“No. They don’t seem to like me much though.”
She regarded him curiously. “Why do you say that?”
He chuckled. “When I was at Washington Memorial my nurse fainted on my bed.”
“I can’t imagine why,” she said dryly. His deep chuckle sent shivers along her skin. “You looked like a dangerous Sasquach.”
“I guess it’s not my sexiest look.”
She frowned. “How’d you manage to get out of there? I’d have thought the cops would’ve been all over you.”
“They were. I was handcuffed. I used the nurse’s hair pin to unlock them after she fainted. Then I took care of the guard at my door.”
“You’re very resourceful.”
“I have to be.” He looked down at his shoulder. “How’s it look?”
“Pretty good. No sign of infection. But you have to rest or it’ll take longer to heal.”
He grinned up at her and her heart fluttered. “You mean running around chasing bad guys and rescuing damsels in distress from windows is not a good idea?”
Maggie sighed heavily and covered the wound with a dressing. She couldn’t share in his rare levity when fear again settled inside her. She pulled back and looked into his eyes, feeling more exposed than she ever had in her life. Vicious people were after him. He could be killed.
“I—I don’t want you to get hurt either.”
She saw a lone eyebrow quirk and lowered her gaze to the cleft in his chin, trying to keep the tremor from her voice.
“Please…just give it back so that they stop chasing you.”
“Dammit, Maggie! Don’t…”
She winced when he exploded. She’d expected his refusal, but not this stark anger. She bit her bottom lip to keep it from quivering. She felt like a fool. Now he knew she had feelings for him.
“It doesn’t work like that.” He frowned. “I made a deal.”
“With Cane Howard?”
He sighed. “I have to follow through with it. Honestly, I want it over and done with so I can move on. You can go back to your life. I just need to have certain guarantees.”
“About me and Harry?” She looked at him then and watched him shake his head in exasperation.
“You,” he said, pointing a long finger, “need to mind your business.”
She felt suddenly desperate for him to listen. “Give it back. It’s the right thing to do. This is such important research. Who knows what will happen to it.”
“Maggie, enough!” He stood and walked over to the table, opening the bag with his food.
“Gabe, hundreds of thousands of lives can be saved,” she persisted. “Studies have reported an increase in the rise of brain tumors over the last decade. Imagine what this research could mean to those people.”
“First, those studies are equivocal. The increase in rise can be attributed to advances in detection,” he said matter-of-factly, feeding a fry into his mouth.
She gritted her teeth. Smartass! “Yes, but that does not negate the significance of the research.”
“I’m not saying the research is not important. I just don’t give a damn.”
She clamped her lips together, inwardly seething. She faced him squarely. “I know you’re not as cold-hearted as you’d like me to believe.”
Another fry was devoured. “You know nothing about me.”
“I know you saved me from those men in my apartment. I know you’re trying to protect your friend Harry.”
His brown eyes scanned her, his manner aloof. “I didn’t save you. I figured you’d be a good hostage in case the police caught me.”
She ignored the way his words squeezed her heart. She swallowed hard at the lump of emotion that suddenly clotted in her throat and looked away.
“Why are you like this, Gabe? Why do you do these…jobs? Have all those guns?” she asked softly.
“I’m a bad man, Maggie.”
She opened her mouth to contradict him, then decided against it. She’d already betrayed too much.
“Where are you from?” she asked instead.
He paused. “New York.”
“I was a Navy SEAL.”
She met his gaze. That explained a lot, but also raised many more questions. From what she knew, SEALs had to withstand punishing physical and mental challenges. Only specific personalities were selected for the elite service.
“Is that where you learned to do all this?”
“Most of it.”
“The rest?”
She watched him take a measured breath, then he was the one to avoid her gaze.
“From my father.”
She was shocked into silence, surprised that he’d revealed something so personal.
“Are you close to him?” She found her voice, curious to know more.
“He’s dead.”
The words hung like a heavy weight between them. Although he’d stated it as callously as his other clipped responses, she could sense its profound significance from the tension radiating from him.
“Why so many questions, Maggie?” His tone was softer, cajoling.
She shrugged. “I’m just curious.” She tilted her head and looked at him. “Aren’t you curious about me? Don’t you have any questions?”
She watched his gaze pour over her body like a liquid caress. She became acutely self-conscious.
“One.” He shoved another fry into his mouth and chewed.
“What?” she asked nervously.
“You’re not wearing a bra.”
“What?” Had she heard him correctly? That wasn’t even a question. She blushed floridly.
“Your breasts are amazing, and you’re not wearing a bra.” He nodded toward the objects of his interest. “They’re very distracting.”
Maggie huffed, certain her face was burnished red. Her nipples instantly stood at attention, seeming to reach towards him. She knew this was a ruse to divert the conversation to things less personal. It was clear he was done answering questions.
“I—It’s wet. I washed it.” She felt she needed to explain. She hadn’t let the girls loose on purpose. Really!
His onyx eyes sparkled with a lusty glow. His smile was seductive, beguiling. “I’m not complaining. It’s a good look for you.” He tossed the bag of fries on the table and took a step towards her.
She instantly wanted to step back, but found her feet rooted into place. She felt dwarfed by his large frame. He smelled of soap mingled with a clean natural fragrance that tickled her nose and soaked her senses. She inhaled deeply when his large hand reached up and cupped the cumbrous weight of her breast through the tee shirt. A thumb glided slowly over her eager nipple, and she couldn’t restrain her moan. His touch made her flesh feel heavier, more sensitive. Ribbons of pleasure curled through her, originating from his touch. He plucked a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and a blast of ecstasy veered right to her sex. She moaned again, deeply—an agonizing plea for more as she thrust her breasts into his palms. He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her between his legs.
“I want to see you, Maggie.”
She nodded when the words floated to her ears and stood pliant as he raised the hem of her shirt.
“It was too dark last night,” he explained, his voice thick and rumbling.
Maggie watched Gabe’s face as he slowly drew up her shirt. He looked like he was unwrapping a precious gift. When she was fully exposed he exhaled reverently and she couldn’t believe the pleasure she found from his expression. She always hated her big breasts. They just seemed to get in the way and drew unwanted attention.
“God, you’re beautiful…”
A soul-deep satisfaction consumed her as his large hands cupped her breasts, and she gasped when he buried his face between the globes. The heat of his skin against her flesh was jolting, sending prickles dancing over her. She felt the moist lap of his tongue start between her breasts, then slowly glide up the quivering mounds to lick her dusky peaks. She stared, mesmerized, watching his tongue circle one nipple, then the other, leaving it taut and shiny. Her knees almost buckled when he filled his mouth and drew voraciously on her flesh. Her jaw slackened and she threw her head back, astonished that his actions could bring her so much pleasure. Her thighs squeezed tight as she savored the contractions of her clenching sex, and her fingers tunneled through his coarse hair and gripped it hard. Something like a growl erupted from his throat, and his teeth gently tugged and nipped her skin.
“Gabe…Gabe…” Her fingers tightened. She didn’t know whether she was pulling or pushing him away. All she knew was she could no longer endure the slow burn spreading inside her.
“You taste so good. I want to eat you up,” he whispered hoarsely.
She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut.
“You taste like…like…”
She heard him smack his lips together and one eye popped open to peer down at him. He appeared to be mulling something over. Then he lavishly smacked his lips together and grinned up at her.
“French fries!”
Both eyes flew open. She stammered indignantly and pushed hard on his wide chest, sending him sprawling backwards onto the bed. His deep baritone rolled with laughter, the rich tone undulating through her being. The sight was so uncommon and so out of character that her heart fluttered in her chest, and she couldn’t help but catch his infectious mirth. Still smoldering with desire though, she headed to the bathroom.
“Wait! Come back. I love French fries!” he entreated.
Maggie shook her head and rolled her eyes at him. This must be what he’s like without his hard shell, without that impenetrable fortress shielding him. She wanted to tear down the bricks and explore what he held so protected on the inside. She needed to get ready for bed and to bring some order to the chaos of emotions jumping inside. He was shaking up her globe of emotions again!
Having regrouped, she exited the bathroom with the blow dryer. She marched over to the bed and turned down the covers, ignoring the large man eyeing her from the chair. She carefully examined the sheets, then plugged in the dryer. Methodically she began to direct the flow of air over the cotton fabric, aware that she was attracting curious attention.
“Ahh…what are you doing?” Gabe walked over and stood next to her.
“I’m blow drying the sheets,” she stated simply.
He gave a slight head shake as he regarded her.
“Why?” he asked slowly.
“I’ve inspected the sheets for bedbugs. Doesn’t appear to be any, but this is just a precaution. High heat should kill any microscopic eggs.”
He regarded her quizzically, that odd expression back on his face. He tapped his index finger against his sensuous lips, drawing her gaze.
“You’re blow drying the sheets,” he drawled evenly, clearly testing her reality.
“Yes, I am.”
You do know you’re crazy, right?”
She smirked at him. “So I’ve been told.”
He chuckled and took the dryer from her hands.
She started to protest until she saw that he was merely duplicating her actions, and pleased, she shot him a wide triumphant grin.
“Thanks!”
“Don’t thank me. I’m just trying to avert a catastrophe. Believe me, I can think of much better ways to set the bed on fire.”
Maggie flushed hotly, feeling her toes curl at the suggestive look in his sable eyes.
CHAPTER FIVE
Gabe awoke before the sun, as was his habit, and did a quick surveillance of the motel. Meticulously he checked the halls, lobby, parking lot, and took note of adjacent buildings. He found a few hidden cameras in the lot and one in the main area of the lobby. He brought in a few supplies from the car. As he was inquiring about an additional night’s stay from the lethargic manager, he furtively planted a camera at the main entrance. He set up an additional lens at the back door, and then synced his devices to the motel’s inferior system. Slipping back into the room, he replaced the do not disturb sign on the door, and slid the chain into place.
He sent hi
s gaze to the sleeping bundle laying askew on the big bed. She’d been so exhausted last night that sleep had rapidly claimed her. Once assured that the sheets were free of infestation, she’d curled up and drifted off soundly. She was now snoring as vigorously as she had all night long. It didn’t bother him at all. The thunderous roars that could probably wake a truck driver just added another layer to this delightfully idiosyncratic woman. He smiled to himself, knowing if he informed her of the habit, she’d vehemently deny it.
One arm was flung over her forehead, and the other reached out as if in search of something—or someone, and it took strict discipline of his will to not strip and crawl into her inviting arms. As if reading his mind, she mewled and snuggled against a pillow, her actions spearing him with a fierce yearning. She was now on her side, one long bare leg drawn up at the knee revealing her milky inner thighs. He let his gaze dawdle, and his fingers itched to feel the warmth of her flesh. He ran a palm over his nascent erection and squeezed his overzealous shaft. Desire was a potent force between them, and the more time he spent with her the harder it was to not succumb to his need for her.
Lust pounded hot in his groin and with a frustrated shake of his head, he got to work on completing the set up of his surveillance devices.
It was a few hours later when he watched her lids flutter open, her eyes more gray than blue as they sallied around the room in search of something familiar. He’d pulled the heavy drapes, so although it was midmorning only a meager scattering of sunshine dappled the room.
“Morning,” he said, attempting to calm her when she bolted upright in bed.
He remembered the last time she’d startled awake, and he took two long strides to the bed. There’d been men in her apartment ready to end her life. Her gaze landed on him and her winged brows crinkled with surprise and recognition.
“It’s okay, Maggie. You’re safe.” He ran a palm over her silky hair.
He enfolded her in his arms and cradled her head against his solid chest, marveling at how perfectly she fit against him. She was warm and soft, now radiating a serenity that soothed him to his core. Her arms crept around his waist and his lips brushed against her forehead. He stayed like that for a while, unusually content, until the accelerating drum of his heart disrupted the tranquil quiet.