The blow nearly buckled her knees. Hurt, she thought only to leave, and the rest happened in slow motion. A reporter rushing through with copy careened into her. They teetered on the brink of falling. Both men leaped to save her and succeeded in entangling all four of them in the process. As they swayed, trying to recapture their balance, Erin thought she detected a hint of shoving between Gabriel and Sebastian.
In the end, Erin found one arm captured by Sebastian. Gabriel had a death grip on her hand. Enduring the silent tug-of-war for the time it took to secure her footing, she abruptly jerked free of both men.
“Listen here, you—” Sebastian’s solid grip on his shoulder forced him around again. Gabriel cocked his fist, grateful for the provocation. Before he could land the ready blow, Peter grabbed his arm.
“Kelly needs to see you.” The older man squeezed his captive elbow warningly. Bone ground against bone, though Gabriel refused to wince at the deliberate pain.
“This is none of your—”
Peter cut off the epithet in mid-sentence. “Upstairs. Now.”
Prepared to remind Peter who was actually in charge, Gabriel glowered at the older man until he noticed work had ceased and forty faces gawked at him. Reining in his temper, he exhaled sharply. Brawls in the middle of the newsroom were not permitted, particularly those started by the owner. With a curt nod to Peter, Gabriel headed for the central staircase that linked the three floors. He muttered an obscenity beneath his breath.
Peter herded him into Kelly’s office. “I’m not playing referee all night. This blasted daily edition was your confounded idea. Either send the girl home or put them to work. I don’t give a fig which one you choose, but do it soon.”
“I didn’t ask her to come here.” If his voice was sulky, Gabriel paid no attention. He pointed an accusatory finger at Kelly. “You let them in.”
Stressed and exhausted, Kelly retorted, “She’s your girlfriend. What was I supposed to do?”
“Tell her no.” Gabriel folded his arms defiantly. “And she’s not my girlfriend.”
Peter rolled his eyes and Kelly released a disbelieving giggle. Looking at Peter, she pantomimed air kisses. “Oh, Gabriel. I love you. Be mine.” She spread her arms wide, and Peter caught her around her waist, lowering her into a romantic dip.
“Erin, my darling. I will sacrifice everything for you!” Peter’s bass, with its sonorous texture, rumbled over words infused with biting sarcasm. He planted a smacking kiss on Kelly’s grinning mouth. “The Ledger be damned.”
“Cut it out, you idiots.” Gabriel scowled at the duo, refusing to be amused.
Setting Kelly on her feet, Peter stopped smiling. “We’ve got three hours to finish this thing, Gabriel. I need your focus. You need her help.” Gabriel opened his mouth to protest. Peter spoke over him. “It’s her story and she has the best insight into the murderer. Plus, she’s here already. You’ve been holed up in your office since five o’ clock and I still don’t have a good draft. Time’s wasting, Gabe.”
Kelly decided it was safe to chime in. “The rest of the articles are nearly set, Gabriel. If the ABC Serial Killer is going to be our lead, we need it soon. I have it on good authority that Harmony Turner’s murder is the Chronicle ’s headline tomorrow.”
Gabriel looked down at the lobby. Erin was talking to a young gofer who’d volunteered for the late shift. The proximity between the two was disturbingly intimate. Sebastian leaned negligently against the wall, covertly watching them. Gabriel recognized the protective stance and filed the information away.
Whether he liked it or not, he did need Erin. If only for tonight. Tomorrow, he decided, would take care of itself. He turned to his staff, his best friends. “You’ll have your copy in time.”
“Never doubted it for a minute,” Peter lied with ease. “Kelly, see if you can’t entertain Erin’s friend for us, will you?”
The instant the words left his mouth, Peter found himself, for once, nonplussed. In the blink of an eye, Kelly’s girl-next-door grin transformed into a sultry smile. And he didn’t recognize the provocative voice that answered, “Anything for the paper.” She skipped out of her office and bounded down the stairs. Soon Sebastian’s appreciative chuckle wafted up the stairwell.
“Close your mouth, old man. You’re starting to drool.” Gabriel draped a comforting arm around Peter’s frozen shoulders. “Back to work.”
They returned to the lobby. Peter shot Sebastian a narrow look that the younger man blithely ignored. Kelly offered him a tour of the facilities, and he hesitated, looking askance at Erin.
“Go on,” she encouraged with a wan smile. “I’ve seen it already. I’ll wait here.”
Prodded by Peter, Gabriel stepped forward. “I’d like for you to look at the article, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course.”
Erin trailed Gabriel to his office. In silence, they sat at the conference table, and he showed her the rough draft. After a quick read, she fished a pen from his desk and started making notes. She returned the article, and Gabriel reviewed her suggestions, grunting occasionally. “You disagree?” she queried after the fifth grunt.
“Hmm?” Gabriel tore his eyes away from the page and focused on her, as though he’d forgotten her presence. “What?”
She gnawed at her bottom lip. Testily she sputtered, “You’ve been grunting for a while now. Do you think I said something wrong?”
Gabriel examined the notes he’d made thoughtfully. When he finally answered, he gave her a level look. “I think you’d make an excellent reporter. Your writing is sharp. Clear. Concise.” He turned the pages toward her, pointing at the phrases she’d added. “The analysis is clinical without being distant. That takes talent. The reader will understand what happened to you, why you made the choices you did, but he won’t pity you. That’s great journalism.”
“You mean that?” The question escaped before she could stop herself.
His pencil tapped the article; then he used it to tilt her chin, and her befuddled eyes met his steady ones. “I always say what I mean, Erin. Don’t ever doubt that.”
“It’s difficult not to.” She shrugged feebly. “I don’t have the best barometer for liars.”
“You know me.”
Erin nodded once, owing him that at least. “Yes. I do.” Other words crowded in her arid throat. Pleas for reassurance tussled with passionate longings she’d never before given voice to, and the battle left her silent.
A skirmish played out in her eyes, and Gabriel waited for her to say more. But he wasn’t shocked when she remained quiet. At least, he thought morosely, she didn’t lie this time. Drained, Gabriel pushed away from the table.
It was amazing, he mused, how mercurial relationships could be. He’d stick with the news, which rarely changed. Just the seven deadly sins repeated in creative patterns and never as treacherous as love. “Why don’t you find the rest of them? Tell Peter I’ll have the final copy for him soon.”
Bemused, Erin left Gabriel to complete the article. Over the next two hours, she learned about the machinations to putting a paper to bed and having it ready for readers in the morning. Her admiration for Peter grew exponentially as he hustled stories into layout and caught last-minute errors.
In Kelly, she found a drill sergeant cloaked in sheep’s clothing. Burly press operators, muscle-bound loading crews, and tough-talking drivers obeyed her slightest command. Gabriel guided the process with a firm, patient hand, appeasing fretful reporters and harried workers with banter and calm reassurances.
By 2:00 a.m., the inaugural daily Ledger rolled out of the loading dock and onto deserted streets and boulevards, thousands of copies. In a few hours, the city would meet a killer and the woman he performed for and no one would sleep easier at night. “Alphabet Killer Seeks Twisted Vengeance Against Local Professor.”
The tension palpable, Kelly flopped onto a low divan near the break room. She peered at Gabriel with one eye at half mast. “You want to do this every day?”
/> “If your predictions net us enough revenue, absolutely.” Gabriel playfully tousled her hair. “I hope you really can count.”
“I don’t plan to hold a column open for you tomorrow. Have your copy on my desk by seven, or I’m running another lead,” Peter said, scrubbing at the streaks of green ink that striped his hands.
“My story. My copy.”
“Territorial, aren’t you?” Sebastian lounged on the opposite end of the divan, next to Erin, who’d squeezed into the center. Holding Gabriel’s glare, he plucked Erin’s limp hand from her lap, expertly stilling her small jerk of protest. He had a point to make, and he’d make it. “Mine, mine, mine. Sometimes, Moss, you have to learn to share.”
“Sebastian,” hissed Erin, snatching her hand free, “cut it out or you’ll be sleeping on your motorcycle.”
An image of where else the man might lay his head tonight hazed Gabriel’s vision. Blindly he strode across the floor. Before he could reach Sebastian, Peter stepped between them.
Fed up, Erin turned the tables and grabbed Gabriel’s hand. She plowed through the knots of celebrating staff that occupied the main lobby, their mouths agape at the sight of their boss being tugged along in the angry woman’s wake.
As soon as they reached his office, she slapped the door shut on their audience. “How do we get upstairs?”
“The elevator.” Gabriel jabbed the hidden button, and a panel opened to reveal the lift. The car doors slid wide and they entered. They rode to the fourth floor in silence.
Leading her out, he keyed open the loft door. He kicked at a package laid at the entryway, caring nothing for its spilled contents. He crossed to the window to stare down at the night.
When silence lingered, she asked neutrally, “What are you doing?”
“You dragged me in here. You tell me.” He ground the explanation out without looking at her.
“All right. What the devil is wrong with you?”
Angst stiffened his shoulders and unfamiliar jealousy writhed inside. Declarations whirled inside his head, each demanding to be the first. I love you. I won’t hurt you. I hate Sebastian Cain for touching you. For leaving you to that monster. Let me love you. Unable to choose, he said nothing.
When the quiet lengthened, Erin said evenly, “Words tend to help with the talking.”
“Shut up.”
The terse command cracked her serene veneer. She stormed over to the window. A few feet separated them, a healthy distance given her mood. He may not want her, but she’d be damned if he’d treat her like this. If anyone would ever again make her feel useless or unimportant or unworthy. She wasn’t a piece of chattel. She was a fleshand-blood, living, breathing woman who deserved an explanation for his attitude. “I asked you a question. What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. I just don’t appreciate you bringing lover boy into my office.”
“I told you Sebastian was my friend,” she grated out. Struggling for reason, she explained, “We’re not interested in each other that way.”
Gabriel sneered. “Tell that to him. He has every intention of winding up in your bed. If you can’t see that, you’re a fool.”
The insult loosed her temper. “If you don’t want me, that’s your prerogative. But you have no say in who else I choose to sleep with.”
In three steps, he cornered her against the mahogany bookcase built into the wall. Cool silver now burned with molten heat. “Touch him and I’ll break his arms.”
“Why? You don’t want me.” She spat out the accusation, trying to take no notice of the intent blazing behind the silver.
His laugh was hard and furious. “Don’t want you? I can’t think of anything else!” He slapped his hands on a half-empty shelf, trapping her hips. “I imagine you in my bed every night, wrapped around me. Taking me inside you.” In blatant torment, he pressed closer. “I imagine you here on the desk. In my car. In your bed. Everywhere. Anywhere.”
Desire and apprehension battled for supremacy, and her throat tightened. “You’re lying. I know I disgust you.”
“You what?” Gabriel roared, stunned. “Are you insane?”
“No.” She pushed at his chest. He didn’t budge. Refusing to take the coward’s way and give in to the tears threatening to flood, she glared at him. “I told you what I did, and you turned away. You haven’t been able to look at me since.”
When he saw how her brown eyes glistened, Gabriel started to embrace her. But he would clear the air first. “I haven’t looked at you because I can’t stand it.”
“You mean, you can’t stand me. I took a life and lied about it. I know what you think of liars.” Her voice broke, but her eyes remained dry. “What you think of me.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Idiot.” Fresh, raw, the helplessness consumed him. Forgetting his vow, he cupped her chin, his thumb drifting over the beloved dimple. “I ache for you. I hate knowing how you had to live. How alone you were. It slices at me, thinking about what you had to endure. What you had to do.”
Forcing the whisper past a throat ravaged by unshed tears, she managed, “You walked away.”
“It infuriated me, how useless I felt. How helpless I feel. You fought for your life and no one helped. Now I’m helping you put your life in jeopardy for a headline.” Gabriel stared at her. “I’m no better than Rhodes.”
Shocked, Erin laid her hand on his where it rested on the shelf. How could she have been so blind? How could he be so stupid? “You’re nothing like him. He was a bully. A selfish, insecure man who had no compassion in him.”
Gabriel retorted, “And I’m a desperate reporter willing to put your life at risk to save my paper.”
She heard the remorse and wondered how she’d missed the misery in his eyes. He had no idea what he’d given her in their time together. More than passion, more than affection, with him she’d discovered a measure of peace that had eluded her for a lifetime. Sitting on the dock, dangling bare feet in the water, she’d felt something suspiciously like joy wending its way through her. Binding her to him. She hadn’t told him, not trusting the vibrancy of feeling. She hadn’t admitted it to herself, not believing it could be so easy. “You’re doing what I asked you to do. What I need you to do.”
“I should have said no. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard.”
“Gabriel, you didn’t force me into this. I volunteered.”
“I didn’t give you an option.”
Bluntly Erin overrode his confession. “Get over yourself. A madman is focused on me. He knows my past and wants me to solve his ghoulish puzzles. If he wins, I’m the prize. Not you.” Her voice shook over the last, but she resisted the fear. She’d spent too much of her life avoiding reality, hidden away. Gabriel helped her emerge from the shadows, and for that alone she could have loved him. It amazed her that he couldn’t see it. Copying his earlier gesture, she caressed his chin where stubble shaded the copper tones. “This has to end, whether you write the story or not. But I’m glad you’re a part of it.”
“Then why do you cringe when I come too close?” Gabriel tore away from her. “My God, even now, I can’t stop crowding you.” He put more distance between them, certain in a moment he would beg. When the width of the room separated them, he sighed. “Please, Erin. Take Sebastian and go.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Determined, she followed him, forced his back to the door. “I’ m not afraid anymore. Not of Nathan or a killer or myself.”
Gabriel grabbed her shoulders, reckless enough to believe. “You should be. You should run away from here, Erin. Away from all of this.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Gabriel.” She traced the hollow at his cheek, the proud line of his nose. This face belonged to her. He belonged to her. “Not without you.”
CHAPTER 25
“Erin.” Gabriel captured her hand where it singed his cheek. He thought to pull it away, but somehow the fragile skin grazed lips hungry for the taste of her. There, where her pulse be
at madly, strongly, the scent of jasmine wafted up to him, and he breathed deep. Control remained by the sheer will. Want had never been so immediate. Visions of them together, satiated, clouded before him, and desire raked him with erotic claws.
But the part of him that remembered a frightened young woman finding herself refused to take in heat what no other had. With a ragged plea, he entreated, “Go. You don’t know what you’re asking.”
In silent response, Erin moved impossibly closer. Power, feminine and timeless, filled her. For the first time in her life, she knew exactly what she was doing. What she wanted. Gabriel was hers. And, whether he knew it or not, she belonged to him. With him.
For nearly thirty years, decisions had been made for her. Well-meaning, ill-intentioned, they wove together in a pattern of supplication that shamed her. But not any longer. Tonight she would seek and take for herself. Tonight she would offer and give of herself. Not from fear or obligation or timidity. From strength.
“Make love with me.”
Tightening his hold on the slender wrist, Gabriel forced himself to force her hand away. “We can’t do this. I can’t.”
Boldly she twisted the captive fingers free and sought tumid evidence to the contrary. When he gasped and shuddered, she reveled. “Apparently, you can.”
His mind clouded, his heart raced. Unsteady palms lifted to push her away, but a surge of sensation ravaged him and he whispered, “Stop it.”
Heady with power, Erin complied. As she angled closer, teasing fingers stroked his throat, scraped lightly at his jaw. Because her head barely brushed his shoulder, she couldn’t reach the mouth that tempted. Instead, she focused on the regions within range. “I want you,” she breathed into his bared skin.
“Don’t.” Rearing away, smacking his head into the door, Gabriel scrabbled for restraint. Downstairs, the Ledger was shutting down until tomorrow morning, which left him no reason to run. Inside the suddenly airless loft, his destiny stalked him. Wayward hands streaked over buttons, teased willing flesh. His voice trembled as her searching tongue found and lathed skin, as though with naked flame. Where she touched, he burned. Where she kissed, he ached.
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