"Gabriel will go as a single man participating. I did that so that you could get to Cate if you needed to. You don't have to participate, but in case you get into trouble, you have a cover."
Gabriel nodded his agreement, and Cate's stomach clenched. She hated the thought of Gabriel kissing or doing anything else with another woman. He wasn't hers, so she had no right to be jealous. But she was. And she wanted him to be hers. She'd always wanted that.
Sully stood and walked to the window overlooking the first floor of the warehouse. Cate had yet to see it, and she wondered what was down there.
"So Gabriel, Ethan, and Isabel will go in undercover—Ethan and Isabel to look for Amanda, while Gabriel stays close to Cate in case she gets into a situation she can't get out of. Cate"—he directed that penetrating stare at her—"you try to play it off like you just want to watch. Gabriel can coach you on other ways to keep from participating. I'll have you wired. If you get into trouble, just say so, and Gabriel or the other two will be there to rescue you."
Cate's heart warmed. These people were here for her. Sure, they had a reason and purpose for being there, but still. She hoped that they found Amanda Morgan. She hated to think about what the girl had been going through since she'd been separated from her mother and sister.
"We done here?" Sully didn't wait for a response, but stood and walked towards the exit, turning at the last moment and propping his shoulder against the door.
"Zach, you'll continue to pull at those threads until you find out who we’re dealing with?"
Instead of answering, Zach saluted him and gathered his things, squeezing by Sully. Then Sully turned and shot Cate his famous stare. She met his gaze, and his eyes softened. When he winked, Cate thought that he must have been a victim of the invasion of the body snatchers. But his words warmed her heart.
"Stay safe. We kind of like having you around."
Chapter 14
Gabriel took Cate home in the nondescript car that the team kept around for surveillance. Although he missed Carlotta, he was grateful for the tinted windows of the company car that kept them incognito. He glanced behind him but didn't see a black sedan following them.
Cate was quiet on the ride home, talking only to give him directions to the back alley that ran behind her house, and then handing over the garage door opener for future use. He pulled into the tiny driveway, hitting the button on the remote and waiting for the door to open. When it did, he pulled inside, grateful for the anonymity it provided.
After instructing Cate to close all the blinds on the windows, he sat on the blue velvet couch with a stubby-legged cat in his lap while she took a shower. He tried not to think about the fact that she was naked just a floor away. He tried not to think about how scared he'd been today when he thought she'd been kidnapped. He tried not to think about how that kiss had felt today when he was distracting her from her emotions. He tried not to think about how much he wanted her in his life.
He knew that the time for a discussion about that night five years ago had come. There was no way he could live in her home for the foreseeable future with this tension remaining between them. He had to quit being a pansy and man up.
"What do you think, Legs?" he asked the cat. "Should I ask her why she left me all those years ago without a single word? Without a goodbye?"
The cat looked up at him with adoring eyes, her head turning as if it weren't connected to her body. It was cute and creepy at the same time. She meowed, and he decided to take that as a “hell, yes.”
Cate stepped into the room, her hair wet from the shower, wearing those tiny boxer shorts she'd worn the other night. She dropped to the couch and turned to him, tucking her legs underneath her very nice ass.
"Who were you talking to?" she asked.
"Legs. We were getting to know each other." She eyed him skeptically.
"Ok, then. What do you want for dinner?"
"How about I make us my famous Spanish omelet?" he suggested.
"That sounds amazing."
"Do you have eggs, potatoes, onions, or peppers?" He stood, and the cat jumped down off the sofa, twining between his legs.
"I think Legs has a crush." Her face brightened with a smile, and he had the urge to lean in and kiss those fabulous lips. "But yes, I have eggs, potatoes, and onions. Will that work?"
"Perfect." He wasn't sure if he was talking about the ingredients for the omelet or about her.
Taking the necessary items from the fridge and the pantry, he chopped everything up while Cate found a bottle of wine. They moved around each other in the kitchen with ease, like they'd been doing this forever. Cate poured him a glass, then took a seat at the bar as she watched him cook dinner.
"I didn't know you could cook," she said.
"I don't cook much. In the Navy, we were always on the go. There was never really time to cook for yourself. And now, Isabel cooks for us."
"I like Isabel. She seems so down to earth. And, of course, she's stunningly gorgeous."
Gabriel nodded. "She's also Sully's sister," he said, the meaning clear in his expression. Sully would kick anyone's ass that got near his sister.
"Oh, yeah? Did you try to date her?" she asked, and if he wasn't mistaken, there was jealousy lacing the words.
"Never. Isabel is like a sister to me. I've known her a long time. We grew up together. We protected her." Cate's expression turned serious, and Gabriel wanted to kick himself. Tonight was not the time to talk about his screwed up past.
He cleared his throat. "What have you been doing the last few years? I've read several articles about you, but it doesn't look like you went to work for a big media giant."
She sat up a little straighter, the light returning to her eyes. "No. After I wrote that piece on your SEAL team, I gained a ton of recognition. I didn't want a boss telling me what I could and couldn't write, so I would go after a story and take some small jobs on the side to pay the bills. Then, when I broke that story about the corrupt senator and the money he was stealing from his state—well, I was able to quit writing the smaller pieces and focus only on the bigger stories."
She took a sip of her wine and stared up at him, the excitement shining brightly in her big, coppery eyes. He loved her passion. Loved to hear her talk about her stories.
"I wanted to tell the stories of those who couldn't. I wanted to be a voice for the weak. So, I started delving into the dregs of society, exposing corruption and exploitation. It's been hard, but rewarding."
"I've read some of your articles. They're amazing. So rare to find such truth in the media today."
She beamed. "You've read my stuff?" She shook her head. "Ok, you've read my stuff," she muttered to herself.
"Anyway," she went on, "my favorite was the article about the corruption in the foster care system. There are so many good social workers and amazing foster parents, but there are also a lot of bad ones. My goal was to celebrate the good while exposing the bad. Forty-three children were rescued from abusive situations."
Gabriel grinned at how proud she was. He was proud of her, too. She'd done it. She'd become exactly what she'd set out to become. He briefly considered asking her about this current story—if it was related to Tariq—but he didn't. He wanted to talk about what happened five years ago, and that was heavy enough for one night.
He cut the omelet in two and plated each half. Cate picked up her wine and plate and walked to the small dining room table. It was a heavy piece, with dark ebony wood in a farmhouse style, the rustic planks resting on X-shaped legs. Gabriel sat on a cushioned chair across from her, watching as she tasted the omelet, waiting to see what she thought.
"Oh, wow. This is the best omelet I've ever eaten." Her eyes were closed in ecstasy, and he wished it were because of him and not his food.
"I'm glad you like it."
"So, what about you? What have you been up to the last five years?" she asked, as she shoved another forkful of the omelet into her mouth.
"I got out of the SEALS short
ly after I left Naples. Sully had started the security firm and needed someone with my op skills, as well as someone who could do some translation. Since I speak several languages, it seemed like a good fit." He shrugged. He wasn't comfortable talking about himself, yet he did so more with her than he had with anyone else. Ever.
Cate propped her elbow on the table, her chin resting on her wrist, fork still in hand.
"You guys are family, aren't you?"
"We are. It's a connection that supersedes blood or biology. We're brothers, whether we have the same parents or not."
She looked as if she was pondering his words, and then scooped up the last bite, moaning when she finished it.
"That was amazing. Thanks for dinner," she said.
"My pleasure."
He cleared the plates, and together they put the dishes into the dishwasher. When everything was cleaned up, they went back to the living room. Cate lit the gas fireplace, even though it was eighty-five degrees outside this time of year. She claimed it was for ambiance.
Since the logs didn't put out much heat, he let it go.
Cate sat on one side, while he sat on the other, his arm stretched along the back of the couch.
"I wanted to talk to you about something," he started. When he did, she sat up straighter, a blank expression veiling her face.
"Ok."
"What happened, Cate?" She looked confused, so he elaborated. "Five years ago. Why did you leave in the middle of the night without a word?"
She lifted her chin, and he prepared himself to hear that some story had been more important than he was. He knew that that was the reason, and he was resolved to hear her say the words.
She seemed to draw into herself then, and instead of the defiance he expected to see in her eyes, he saw sorrow and maybe a little fear.
"I got a call at three o'clock that morning. But not on my cell phone. It was on the phone that the housing provided in the room." That was odd. Why would she get a phone call about a story on the base's phone system?
"A man told me that I had to leave the country within the hour or that my passport and documentation would be revoked, and I'd be stuck there indefinitely with no documentation. He said that I wasn't to speak to anyone and that the MPs would see me to the airstrip."
Gabriel scooted closer to her. Who the hell could have ordered her out of the country? Only someone with power could orchestrate something like that. But who? And, better yet, why?
"I was so scared, Gabriel. I tried to figure out a way to call someone, to notify you. But my phone didn't have service, and he told me that I'd be arrested if I tried to tell someone. Fear kept me from thinking clearly. I should have called you and gotten help." She wiped at the tears that had started to fall down her face. He wanted to hold her, comfort her. But he didn't deserve to.
"I called you as soon as I landed. I wanted to tell you that I didn't leave by choice. And then, after a few days, you changed your number, and I had no way of getting a message to you."
And so, instead of her betraying him, he'd betrayed her. The one woman he'd grown to love. Yes, love. He knew now that that was what it had been, what it still was. And he'd left her to deal with some psycho bastard who had had her escorted out of the country by MPs.
He pulled her into his arms, and she tucked her head under his chin. Even though he'd let her down, she still trusted him enough to be vulnerable and to be in his arms.
"The colonel told me that you'd left a message saying that it had been fun, but that a story had come along that you couldn't pass up. I thought you’d abandoned me. I was so angry. I didn't want to hear your excuses. I couldn't bear to hear you tell me that something else was more important than what we had."
She turned her face up to his, cupping his jaw. "Never."
She whispered the word, and it was a balm to his soul. He felt the ice around his heart melt completely, and the damn thing thumped a wild beat proclaiming his love for her.
He tilted his head to meet her lips. He needed to taste her, feel her. They had a lot to work through, and this crap storm to solve, but for now, he just wanted it to be them. Together.
* * * *
Cate reveled in the feel of Gabriel's lips on hers. Her heart broke at his admission that he'd been afraid she'd abandoned him. Five years had slipped by. Five years they could have been together. Would they have been married by now? Would they have had kids? What a waste of time!
Gabriel deepened the kiss, moving his tongue against hers in slow, sensual slides. Desperate to get closer, Cate fisted his hair and brought his head closer to hers, lying back against the blue velvet couch she loved so much. It was a big couch, wide and deep and perfect for what she had in mind.
Careful to keep his weight off her, Gabriel settled beside her, his hands cradling her face as he worshipped her mouth. Cate remembered what it had been like to be kissed by Gabriel, but her memory had failed to grasp the glorious reality. Gabriel knew how to kiss, and, if possible, he'd gotten even better at it.
His hands caressed her back, drawing her closer still. Their bodies were pressed tightly together, his hard planes to her soft curves.
The ringing of her phone broke through the ambiance of the room. Fear ratcheted up the rhythm of her heart, as the organ nearly thumped out of her chest. She didn't want to answer the phone.
Gabriel pulled away, looking into her eyes, desire still emanating from them. "You want to get that?" he asked, his voice clearly indicating his frustration at the interruption.
"Not really," she answered, but got up from the couch anyway and walked over to the table where she'd left her purse when she’d come in. She dug through it, getting to her phone.
Unknown Caller.
Cate knew instinctually who the caller on the other end was. Fear crawled up her spine like a spider over her skin. She shivered.
"Hello?"
"Did you break it off?" his cold voice asked.
"I, uh—I haven't had a chance to call Christy yet. But I will—"
"I'm not pleased with this answer, Cate." He spat her name as if it were a curse word. Her real name.
"I will. First thing tomorrow morning. I promise." She hated the desperation she could hear in her voice. Hated that she was forced to be a victim. She wanted to lash out at him. Tell him that she was going to nail his sorry ass.
"See that you do. Who was that who pulled into your garage?" Had he somehow seen Gabriel when he'd pulled in?
"My roommate," she quickly answered.
"Fine. So long as it isn't that guy from the other night. I don't share, Cate. I hope I've made myself clear on that."
"Perfectly."
"Good. I'll pick you up Friday for the party. You'll need the appropriate attire. It's a masquerade party, and there are strict specifications. Be sure to go by and see Christy's gal before then."
"What kind of specifications?" Cate asked, wondering what in the world she'd be required to wear.
"You'll see."
And on that troubling note, the line went dead. Cate stood staring at the wall, the urge to quit this game—and protect herself—warring with the need to crack this story and expose the atrocities that were going on in the world.
Gabriel walked up from behind her, his arms immediately wrapping around her waist and drawing her up against his solid chest.
"Was that Haney?"
She nodded.
"What did he want?" Cate took a deep breath and blew it out, nestling closer to the safety of Gabriel's embrace. She was scared. This man had fixated on her for some reason, and she had a feeling it wasn't simply because of her looks. He knew her real name, which meant he probably knew her real profession. So, what was his end goal?
"He wanted to see if I'd broken things off with you—if I'd called Christy. He said he would pick me up on Friday. And he reiterated that he doesn't share."
She turned in Gabriel's arms to face him. "He saw you pull in. I told him it was my roommate. So that means they are watching me."
"Of course. Always." He lifted his hand to brush her hair back off her shoulder, then cupped her cheek.
"I'm scared, Gabriel. This guy, he knows my real identity. Which means he has to know that I'm a journalist. So, why? Why is he allowing me to see this side of him? Isn't he afraid that I'll reveal it? And if not—what does that mean for me?"
"You don't have to do this. You can stop right now and come under our protection. I won't let anyone hurt you. I promise."
Cate sighed. She wanted to take him up on that offer—wanted to run away and hide. But what kind of journalist would she be? And what about Ben Ali? What about the women and children he was trafficking? How could she run away when so many lives depended on her story bringing him down?
"No. I can't. It's too complicated. There're too many depending on me."
"Wait—who's depending on you? What's really going on here?"
"Nothing. I just feel responsible, you know? I need to help find Amanda and the other girls that are caught up in this mess. I want to expose these perverts to their constituents and get them out of office."
"Cate—" Gabriel reached out to touch her arm, but she turned towards the stairs.
"I'm tired. I think I'm going to head to bed." She saw the disappointed look on his face before he turned towards the fireplace. They'd made so much progress tonight, but the secret she was keeping from him about Ben Ali and her hunt for him made it hard for her to trust that once Gabriel learned about it, he wouldn't turn on her again.
Cate trudged up the stairs to her room. Her face was clean from her earlier shower, so she brushed her teeth and slipped under the covers. She lay there for several minutes before realizing she was never going to get to sleep. She couldn't leave things with Gabriel the way she had.
Throwing the covers off, she sat up in bed and walked down the stairs. She could hear Gabriel talking to someone on the phone, so she quietly padded down and stopped at the bottom landing.
Castle Investigations Box Set Page 37
