She chuckled and sat down, placing the lettuce and her wine glass on the small kitchen island. “God, you remember that?”
“It was… Amaretto sour wasn’t it?”
He watched her shiver and roll her eyes. “Yes and gross; it was nasty.” She headed to the refrigerator he'd vacated when he'd grabbed two t-bone steaks and took them to the cook top.
“Flip the oven on to four-twenty-five, would you? You were saying about the wine?” he asked as he pulled open cabinets in search of a broiler or fry pan. He really wanted to know the story behind the ice cubes.
“Yeah, well, one of my patients became a friend–”
“That happens frequently, I assume?”
“What does?” She shot him a quick look before pulling out a huge beefsteak tomato from the crisper.
“Your patients become friends.”
She made a non-committal sound. “Anyway, she liked red wine, but only with ice in it. She's almost eighty now, and it is her professional opinion that the wine helps her circulation.”
Gabriel turned around after placing the fries on a baking sheet he'd snagged out of the cupboard. “So you tried wine with ice in it?”
Anna glanced up at him and chuckled. “Yeah, I did, and you know what? I liked it. So when I go out with my friends now, I order a glass of ice water, extra ice, and red wine. We enjoy dancing, so it is dual purpose. Hydrate, socialize, and stay cool.”
“Dancing?”
“Oh, yeah, I love to dance.”
He bet she did. She seemed to be the type of person who would enjoy the energy of a dance floor. “What type of music?”
“I listen to two types of music. Country and Western.”
“I had no idea your tastes were so diverse, Ms. Harriger.”
“I know you're mocking me, but I like what I like. Country music, line dancing, helping people, flying by the seat of my pants, going off the beaten path but living simple, having fun, and yes, cold red wine.” Her words were said into a cupboard as she fished out a bowl from the top shelf. “What do you like, Mr... Hey, what is your last name?”
“Gabriel works fine, no need for formalities and to answer your question, I like symmetry, order instead of chaos. I love solving complex issues, delving into a problem and finding the best solution.” He placed the cast iron skillet he’d found on the cook top and turned on the heat to warm the pan.
“Huh.”
He looked around at the comment. “That sounded judgmental.” He turned to look for some tongs or a fork to flip the steaks. “Silverware?”
Anna pointed to one of the only drawers he hadn't opened. “Um, check that drawer, and it wasn't judgy. It just sounded like you didn't have much fun.”
“Fun?”
“Yeah, you know when you go out with friends, drink a little too much, laugh until your stomach hurts, and dance until your feet beg you to stop. When was the last time you went out and had fun?”
Gabriel turned his back on her and laid the steaks onto the screaming hot skillet. He turned on the overhead fan before he answered. “To be honest, I don't think I've ever had a night like you just described.”
“Bull puckey.”
He shot her a smile over his shoulder. “No puckey involved.”
“Not even in college?”
“I didn't go to college in the States, and I was more inclined to study than to party.”
“Well, I now have a new mission in life.”
He turned so he could see her. “And what, pray tell, would that mission be?”
“You need to have a good time. I don't know how long I’ll be here, but I'm going to do my best to make sure you have some fun.” She tore lettuce into two small bowls.
“As much as I think I'd enjoy that, I'm here to catch a serial killer. I won't have time to go out.”
“Huh.”
Gabriel chuckled at that sound. He turned around to check the steaks as he asked, “Judging me again?”
“Nope. I get what you are here to do, and I am among the people cheering for you to get it done, but while you are working this case, you get evenings off, like tonight? I mean you could have fun if you loosened up a bit.”
Gabriel flipped the steaks and turned around. The woman was taunting him, he could tell by the tone of her voice, and yeah, that smile was just for him. “I think you'll find I'm wound pretty tight even when I do try to relax. Unfortunately, I can't leave this building unless it is directly related to the case. My adjunct business center is set up four floors above me, and I have business concerns all over the world. I need to be accessible twenty-four-seven, three hundred and sixty-five days a year. So, if you can set up your ‘fun’ times under those restrictions, then, by all means, scheme away, and I'll try not to be a stick in the mud.”
She held the tomato and a knife in her hand. “Are you serious?”
“Sure, why not? I'd enjoy spending time with you.”
“You would?” she squeaked.
He laughed and nodded. “I seem to recall we are very compatible. How do you like your steaks?”
“Ah...medium rare, err on the side of rare.”
“A woman who appreciates a good cut of beef.”
“Nah, a woman who was raised in cattle country and knows the proper way to eat it.”
“You were raised in Colorado?”
“Wyoming and Colorado. My mom and dad were school teachers. Dad got his advanced degree and took a position at the University of Wyoming. Mom was my high school principal. What did your folks do?”
Gabriel tapped the top of the steak with his finger, checking the doneness. “My father, and his father, and his father before him, worked in the family business.” The Xavier family fortune burgeoned and had surpassed the DeBeers diamond fortune by the turn of the century. His father was an early investor in digital technology and a savant at making money. Per his accountant’s latest update, he was a billionaire ten times over.
“Yeah, what kind of business is that?”
“Investments.”
“You didn't follow in their footsteps?”
“No, I didn’t. Instead, I found a way to make an impact. Don’t get me wrong, I still have responsibilities to my family, and managing the family's business takes up a good portion of my time, but Guardian Security? This company runs through my veins like my blood. You couldn't separate me from it without killing me.”
“And, he lives.”
Gabriel took the steak off the heat and glanced back at her. “Excuse me?”
“You, when you talk about Guardian, or when you gave me that little lecture this afternoon, you come alive. It is like a light shining from inside you. I can see you when you talk about Guardian.”
She put finishing touches on the salad as he fished out two plates from the cabinet. “I'm not sure that's a good thing.”
She put the salads on the table and went to gather silverware. “You know, I get that, too. You are the big boss man. You must present this image. But you don't have to do that with me. I don't give two cents about your business. You're interesting, and I like talking to you. Besides, we are going to have fun, remember?”
“What kind of fun?” Gabriel opened the freezer and grabbed three ice cubes. Two went into her empty wine glass and the third into his scotch. He retrieved her wine bottle and added a portion.
“Oh, honey, that is not enough.” Anna pointed at the wine glass.
Gabriel lifted a brow and tipped the bottle again. “Say when.”
“When it's empty.”
“Are you serious?”
“It was a hell of a day.”
“Hopefully, it’s getting better?” He upended the bottle, waiting for the last drop to drip into the glass.
“Oh, yeah, much better. Do you want catsup with your fries?”
“I notice you didn't say steak.”
“If you put catsup on your steak, this friendship is over.”
“Is that right?”
“Definitely. I have standards.”<
br />
“And that is where you draw the line? Catsup on steak?”
“It is a very deep, defining line.”
“Well, it is my lucky day. Yes, to the catsup, and only on my fries.”
“Good man, now we can be friends.” Anna headed to the fridge, and instead of getting his second scotch, he stood and watched her as she walked across the room. He shook his head and spun on his heel. The woman was bewitching. Not in a siren's song type of way, but as if she was essential to his well-being. The desire he felt to spend time with her seemed natural and instinctive. He poured his drink, listening to her moving around in her kitchen. The double doors that separated their apartments stood wide open. He smiled as he lifted his glass to his lips.
Anna flopped onto the sectional in the corner. A soft moan floated through the room. His body took note of the delicious sound and thickened. He’d heard something very similar a long time ago. He'd be lying if he hadn't thought about the possibility of sex with this woman on a frequent basis. Those little sounds? They added a seasoning to an already delicious thought.
He sat down in the middle of the couch, and she lifted her feet and plopped them in his lap. “Oh, that's better. I think I ate too much.”
His hand dropped onto her shin. Her leg was warm and smooth under his hand. “It was a good dinner.” They'd just finished doing the dishes. She'd drained her glass of wine, polishing off a full bottle. Her worn white t-shirt pulled across her chest and clung to her braless breasts. The darker color of her nipples under that thin white t-shirt had teased him throughout the night. Anna didn't seem to notice his eyes’ misbehavior as he visually consumed her. Several small yawns punctuated the dish detail, and she once again covered a small yawn. He should really let her go to sleep, but he didn't want to leave—not quite yet. “The steaks were good, but it wasn't the chicken and dumplings I've been craving since this afternoon, but hey, not all of us can make the best dumplings this side of the Mississippi.”
Anna narrowed her eyes at him. “Is that your way of asking me to make you my famous chicken and dumplings?”
He chuckled and grabbed one of her feet, pressing his thumbs into the instep of her delicate foot. She moaned, “Oh, don't stop. Don't ever stop.”
Thank God her eyes were closed because the sound of those words and that moan sent his blood boiling as sure as if it had been flamed with napalm. He shifted, moving her feet away from his cock. The damn thing was doing its best imitation of a flag pole. She wiggled her other foot, so he palmed both of them and began to rub.
She melted into the couch with a dramatic sigh. “Sir, I am putty in your hands. Ask me what you will.”
“Somehow I think asking for chicken and dumplings now would be a waste of a perfect opportunity.”
She propped herself up on her elbows, a silly smile plastered across her face. “Did I say it would be your only opportunity to ask for something?”
Gabriel's mind short-circuited for about ten seconds as the sexual implications jammed his thought processes. “No, no, you didn't.”
She pulled her feet off his lap, shifted to her knees and scooted closer to him. She cocked her head and bit her bottom lip before she smiled shyly. “So, tomorrow night. Chicken and dumplings and maybe your first lesson in fun.” She bent down and lightly touched her lips to his.
His arms shot out and encircled her, pulling her down. He licked at her mouth, which opened with a breathless sigh. Sweet God in heaven, this woman took his breath away. She tasted of rich spices that lingered from the wine. The flavors settled decadently against his tongue, but mostly he tasted the unique essence of her, Anna Harriger. Put simply, the woman was delicious.
She pulled away slowly, and he watched her eyes open. “Oh, boy howdy, did I get that wrong.”
Wait… what? “Exactly what did you get wrong?” He braced himself for rejection even though her response seconds ago was anything but that.
“I was afraid I’d built up my memory of what kissing you was like.” She lifted a finger and traced his bottom lip and sighed.
“Was it as good as you recalled?” He couldn't help the smile that tugged across his face.
She scowled and shook her head. “No, this was better.”
“But not great?” He dipped and lightly caressed her lips with his. He'd classify their kiss as great. Incendiary. Explosive. Hot as hell.
She shook her head. “No, we have to work up to great. Great takes practice. Lots and lots of practice.”
“Do you think we'll have time for that?” Gabriel pulled her to him and made slow, deliberate love to the woman's mouth. He'd had plenty of experience with women, but this woman? He wanted to impress her. Make her lose her mind, forget the world, remember only him. His cock agreed with his master plan and longed to be inside her again. Anna shifted, moved up his lap, and pulled herself closer to his chest. Her hip applied a subtle pressure against his obvious desire. Of their own volition, his hips shifted toward that friction.
Her hand unwound from behind his neck, trailed down his chest and then farther. She slid her palm along his length as it hardened against his leg.
She moaned into his mouth before she slowed the kiss and inched her lips away from his. “Happy to see me?”
His hand traveled under her thin-as-air t-shirt, up the bare skin of her midriff and barely touched the bottom swell of her breast before he ran his index finger over her tight nipple. A shiver ran through her. Fuck, she wanted him as much as he wanted her. “I think it is evident we are both happy to be here.”
He ran his finger across her breast again, palmed her firm mound in his hand and leaned forward to take her lips. A thunderous knock made them both jump. Her heart thumped wildly under his hand, and he could feel her ribs expand, sucking in air. It took Gabriel a few moments to realize the knocking came from his apartment door.
“Fuck.”
“Obviously not.” Anna sighed and slid off his lap.
“Perhaps with our next practice session?” Another set of pounding demands rattled his apartment door. He stood up and edged toward the adjoining apartment.
“Tomorrow night, chicken and dumplings. After that, we'll play it by ear, Tiger.” Anna pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. The smile on her flushed face was something he'd put there, and he fucking wanted to beat his chest and roar with satisfaction.
“Tomorrow night.” He winked at her and turned to leave. Whoever the fuck was pounding on his apartment door had better have a fucking good reason.
Chapter 15
Anna stared up at the ceiling and watched as the morning light slowly illuminated the popcorn-like texture above her. She should have slept like a baby last night. Should have. Unfortunately, wait, no, fortunately, her sexy neighbor had stirred her brain and body into a royal tizzy, and then left. Poof. Vanished through the door she’d thought was a closet.
When he shut his part of the double door behind him, that small little snicht noise sounded loudly in her new apartment. The only thing louder was the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears. The persistent knocking on Gabriel’s apartment door stopped, and the rumble of male voices filtered through to where she’d sat quietly on that couch. At what sounded like his front door closing, she popped off the couch and mashed her eye to the peephole of her door. The groan she let out when she saw him walking down the hall with that dillweed McNair probably carried to the elevators.
So, she did the only thing that seemed reasonable. She turned off the lights and went to bed, but sleep evaded her. Her mind raced all night long. She kept replaying the moments—for it had been mere moments—of them together on the couch. She’d wanted to cry when Gabriel’s hands, strong and so fucking warm, had touched her breast. Wouldn’t that have been something? It had been forever since a man had touched her with any type of respect. To feel special, desired, needed? She hadn’t experienced those emotions in a very long time, not since the last time they were together. She groaned and flopped onto her stomach. She wasn't being
melodramatic either. She’d not had a steady boyfriend, or hell, for that matter a steady hook up, in the last six years.
Occasionally she’d gone out and allowed herself to be picked up at bars. Yes, she’d done the one-night stands and the walks of shame. And God, yes, she always practiced safe sex, especially since the AIDS epidemic terrorized the nation, and hell, the world. But those nights she went out? They were acts of gut-wrenching loneliness, and if she was honest, desperation. She was desperate. For love. The kind of love her mom and dad shared. The kind of love obvious between her friend Kay and her husband and soon their new baby. Then there was Jackie and Deacon. Damn, to have a fraction of what those couples had. She put her hands under her head and stared at nothing. Considering her past and her horrible dating history, she seemed destined to be that ‘crazy friend,’ the one who made everyone laugh and went home alone at the end of the night. She wanted more. This thing with Gabriel? It came with a quick expiration date. She was in New Orleans for two more weeks, maybe a little longer if Jackie struggled with mental health issues, but eventually she’d get on a plane and head home to her job and her life.
She didn’t live the life she dreamed she would, but she was healthy and had her job and some damn good friends. Even so, most nights, TV sitcoms kept the silence at bay while she created hand-tooled leather gifts for her friends and family. The repetitive motion of tapping cutting tools into the soft leather to reveal a pattern and a design filled lonely hours, and gave her something productive to do with her hands. She could deal with being alone—but alone wasn’t what she would choose.
Her eyes turned toward the hall and beyond, to the apartment next door. What was behind that adjoining door had prompted her entire sleepless night. Should she get involved with Gabriel? Heck, was he looking for anything more than another one-night stand? She snorted at her presumption. The man was drop-dead gorgeous. She had no shot at anything more than a roll in the sack. If she got seconds? Gravy. If not? Well then, she was halfway done with a purse for Kay, and for years, she'd wanted to design a bridle and saddle. A small but lucrative market existed for hand-tooled tack for horses, especially in rodeo country. She had plenty to keep her hands occupied but no one special filled her heart.
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