Courting Danger

by Carol Stephenson

  “We’ve got to find her.” I struggled to stand. With a string of curses, Gabe put his arm around my waist and helped me. The crowd parted and we walked into the street. I saw a body covered by a coat lying closer to the store. “Oh no!”

  Gabe released me and, after kneeling beside the body, lifted the edge of the coat. A muscle bunched along his jaw. “Damn fool. Her purse wasn’t worth risking her life.”

  I then saw the small black leather purse lying beside Isabella’s body. It made no sense. Why had she gone for her purse?

  Averting my gaze from the damage done to the woman’s face, I crouched by the bag, using my body to block any observer’s view. I lifted open the flap and checked out the contents. Compact, lipstick, mascara, wallet, brush… What was that tucked in the corner? I removed a battered envelope, yellowed with age.

  The sirens were louder. “Kate, the emergency response will be here any second,” Gabe warned in a low voice.

  “I know. This won’t take me but a second.” My fingers trembled as I opened the envelope and drew out a typed document. I frowned as I scanned the faded writing.

  “What is it?”

  “It’s a hearing schedule.” My heart was pounding so hard that my chest hurt. “It’s a calendar of my grandfather’s hearings. Grace must have given it to Isabella for safekeeping.”

  Gabe let out a low whistle as tires screeched nearby. Fire rescue was here. Hurriedly, I slipped the envelope and schedule into my jacket pocket. He helped me up and then held me still.

  “Don’t tell me you’re removing evidence from a crime scene.”

  Gabe’s police face was on so that I couldn’t read him. I bit my lower lip. “Technically, since the schedule was my grandfather’s, it belongs to me.”

  He stared at me for a long moment and then he grinned. “Works for me.”

  I let out a whoosh of breath.

  “Well, well, well. There’s a dead body so Katherine Rochelle must be around.”

  I sighed and faced the scowling Lieutenant Bowie. “Hey, Sam. I can explain—”

  The lieutenant held up his hand. “Stop. I don’t think I can handle hearing it right now.” He arched a brow. “From the looks of you, the medics need to check you both out. Where can I find you later?”

  “At Kate’s house,” said Gabe.

  “What?” I glared at him and he winked.

  “After the day you had, I think you at least deserve me cooking my famous paella.”

  I smiled. “That works for me.”

  Chapter 13

  Leading a life of privilege can be a double-edged sword. It can either enhance your strengths or aid your weaknesses.

  For example, patience has never been my strong suit. With a large staff at the Rochelles’ beck and call, I never had to wait for anything. Only during my years at the private school and then college and law school did I learn that not everything could come to me with a snap of my fingers.

  Despite all my arguments, the paramedics bundled me into an ambulance to take me to the local hospital to have my shoulder checked out, with Gabe following behind in his truck. Why did he come through the exam with flying colors while I had to be treated like a porcelain doll? If I didn’t know better, they gave him a clean bill of health simply because he was a former cop.

  The ride did nothing to help my simmering temper. All I wanted to do was crawl into a hole somewhere and think. Pieces of information were being hurled at me like debris in a hurricane, disjointed, disconnected and all hinting at a larger picture that I still didn’t comprehend. My client’s trial was upon me, and all I had was a rapidly rising body count with one dead judge and two murdered women.

  My mind skirted around another truism—someone wanted my body to be included in that count.

  When the driver set the siren to wailing, I scrambled off the gurney and ordered, “Turn it off.” My well-trained voice with its proper chilled degree of haughtiness had him instantly complying. I sat back down, crossed my arms over my chest and fumed.

  Sadly, by now I was becoming a real expert on the aftereffects of a crisis on a person. The adrenaline that pumped through my body during the explosion was turning into something more potent. I needed a release but I was going to have to wait until I was home and could swim a few laps, oh say, about a thousand. If I couldn’t use my shoulder, then I would have to find a substitute to burn off the aftermath of violence.

  However, when I saw the teeming waiting room at the hospital, the harried emergency staff, and the doctors who didn’t even look my age, enough was enough. I whipped out my cell phone and called the Rochelle family doctor.

  Thirty minutes later Dr. Young had whisked me through X-ray, located the on-call orthopedic specialist, and ordered an MRI of my right shoulder. Through all the poking, prodding and testing, Gabe silently shadowed me. Dr. Young took one look at his set expression and didn’t force the issue of Gabe waiting outside the examination room.

  Inexplicably, Gabe’s tight-lipped presence pissed me off. Damn it, I could take care of myself. I didn’t need him. As the orthopedic surgeon with an unpronounceable name asked me to raise my arm for the fiftieth time, I glared over the doctor’s head at Gabe. “Don’t you have anything better to do, such as investigate something? Like who just killed Isabella Montoya?”

  “It can wait.” Gabe could have been a slab of granite propped against the back wall for all his reaction.

  “You’re just hoping to catch a glimpse of my backside in this gown.”

  “And a very lovely butt you have. You must like to tan in the buff.”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Dr. Young’s lips twitch. My jaw set.

  At that moment the orthopedist found a particularly sensitive spot on my shoulder socket to drill his finger into. I gave up on responding to Gabe and focused on not screaming and knocking the doctor on flat on his ass.

  But my medical torture wasn’t over. Heck no. Next up, the magnetic resonance imaging machine, otherwise known as an MRI. The technician led me into a ghastly white room barren except for a chair and a large machine the shape of a cube with a hollowed center. The air was so cold that you could have kept frozen meat in here. The tech gestured for me to lie on the patient table that would slide into the tube. Gabe straddled the chair backward. The tech secured a belt around my middle and showed me how to operate the panic button. Great.

  As I slid into the mechanical equivalent of a coffin, I decided it was a good thing I wasn’t claustrophobic. Then the sound of flying bullets erupted.

  “Let me out of here!” I pushed the panic button and the noise stopped as the tray slid out. Before I popped out completely, I fought to loosen the restraining band across my stomach. The technician rushed in from the control panel. “Please, Ms. Rochelle. The test only lasts twenty minutes.”

  “And that’s twenty minutes too long.”

  Gabe reached out and took my hand. Can people truly be linked through touch? If so, then his calm flowed into me. I felt strangely comforted. “You can do this, Kate.”

  I drew in a long, deep breath before I nodded and let the tech maneuver me back into the machine.

  Over the echoing racket of the MRI I could hear Gabe talking to me. I couldn’t hear his words, but the rumble of his voice gave me something to focus on.

  And worry about.

  Where exactly was I heading with Gabriel Chavez? The sparks and heat of sexual attraction I welcomed. Yes, even wanted. The desire that lay coiled in me every time I was around Gabe meant that my two previous lovers were wrong: I wasn’t cold.

  I wasn’t the Ice Princess.

  I knew that what had happened between Gabe and me on the beach and in the shower would lead to the bed, although I wanted it to be on my timing. Even the thought of being naked with him sent a rush of heat through me, despite the chill of the air-conditioned room. The tug of desire was even more frustrating, as I couldn’t move because of the scan underway.

  I then knew I would have to have sex with Gabe soon.
>
  Very soon.

  But at what cost?

  Wanting, desiring, or craving was one thing. But needing? That was another ball of entanglements.

  Such as I needed Gabe’s hand enclosing mine right now. Needed his thumb stroking soothingly over the back of my hand to get me through this hellacious clacking machine.

  To need someone. To depend and rely on another person. I had no experience with that. I had no personal barometer by which to gauge how to handle my emotions.

  For also included in that snarl was trust.

  Except for Carling and Nicole, I had no one else I trusted. I had affection for both my aunt, uncle and godfather, but I had always known their ultimate loyalties lay elsewhere. You can’t trust someone who will sacrifice you.

  Could I trust Gabe?

  The noise abruptly ceased, and I had no more time to think. The machine thrust me back out into the room. Gabe gave my hand a final squeeze and I once more was whisked back to the room where I could change clothes.

  I’d had enough. More than anything else, I needed to be alone to sort out my feelings for Gabe. My shoulder was tender but not painful unless being tortured by the doctors. The results of the MRI wouldn’t be immediately available, so I wouldn’t learn if I had a rotator cuff tear until tomorrow at the earliest.

  I poked my head out. No sign of Dr. Young or Gabe. Good. They probably were waiting for me back in the examination room. Spotting a young nurse, I muttered a prayer of thanks. An older or more experienced nurse probably would drag me kicking and screaming to Dr. Young. I called out in a low voice, “Nurse.”

  She paused. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Would you give Dr. Young a message for me? He’s in the last room on the right. Give him my apologies and tell him that Katherine Rochelle has gone home. I’ll call him in the morning.”

  “But—”

  She was speaking to my back as I rushed down the hall. After a few more twists and turns, I was outside the hospital and flagging down a cab.

  Fifteen minutes later I was home. My home. I was almost giddy with relief. I opened the door and almost fell inside. I tossed my tote onto the sofa and headed into the kitchen. I half expected the silence of my house to soothe me like it always did, but instead the tension still lay coiled inside me, waiting. Waiting for what?

  I poured myself a glass of ice tea and polished it off. There was no sign of Willy; he must be outside stalking a gecko, a small lizard that abounded in this part of Florida. Fortunately, all he would capture would be the tail, which would break off, allowing the lizard to run off and hide.

  Tick, tick, tick. Swinging around, I stared at the grandfather clock in the hallway. Why had I never noticed how loud it was before? Its sound mirrored the beat of the MRI machine. I had to put a stop to that. I placed my glass on the counter and as I walked toward it, my doorbell rang

  “Kate, I know you’re in there.” So much for avoiding Gabe. I opened the door and he stalked into the foyer. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Anger darkened his eyes.

  I propped my hands on my hips. Good. A fight. I could use one. “I came home for a little peace and quiet. Do you mind going out the way you came in?”

  Glowering, he stood so close to me that I could smell the warm sandalwood note of the cologne he favored. “After you dragged Dr. Young from his other patients to the hospital like some prima donna, the least you could’ve done was to thank him in person rather than sneaking out.”

  I winced but jerked my chin up. “I’ll call and apologize to him in the morning.”

  He advanced and I backed up until my heel struck the wall. Trapped. He braced his arms on either side of my head. “What? You think as a Rochelle all you have to do is apologize for your bad behavior and it will be all right?”

  Shame ripped loose a few bands of control. “No, I don’t, but that’s between Dr. Young and me. I don’t have to answer to you.”

  “Oh, you don’t, huh?” Gabe moved closer. “You left me high and dry as well. Since working for you, I’ve been shot at and nearly blown to bits. Seems to me an apology is in order.”

  Yes, but not today. The vortex deep inside me swirled even more.

  “Back off.” I pushed at his chest, an exercise in futility. It was like shoving a mountain.

  “No.” When his body pressed against mine, I realized how aroused he was, but not as aroused as I was. The controls were off, and all was fair in war.

  I hooked my foot around the back of his leg. “Last chance.”

  Gabe lowered his head. “Or what?” His warm breath feathered my face.

  “Too late.” I framed his face and brought him closer. Then my mouth fused against his. I could eat him alive, he tasted so good.

  Oh boy. All my nerve endings singed, all the tension that had been building exploded.

  Sexual meltdown.

  But as good as Gabe’s tongue warring with mine was, I needed more. I needed skin.

  I gripped the edge of his T-shirt and pulled it up. Gabe straightened only long enough to drag his shirt over his head. Then I was running my hands over the smooth muscular planes of his chest. His flat nipples tantalized me and I lowered my head to lick one.

  Gabe muttered a low oath and then ripped away my silk blouse. He didn’t bother to unfasten my bra, plunging his fingers into the lace and freeing my breast for his mouth. When he suckled, desire ignited.

  I had to get him inside me. Now.

  I released my lock on his leg so I could squeeze my hand between our bodies to unzip his pants. I curled my fingers around his erection and died a small death of pleasure. He was hot and heavy and throbbing.

  For me.

  I wrapped my arms and legs around Gabe and tried to climb up him. He grabbed my waist to steady me. With a half groan, half chuckle, he pressed a kiss against my damp forehead.

  “Babe, hold on. You need to lose a few clothes and I need to add some protection.”

  Some of the haze cleared from my head. “Sorry.”

  God, I was acting like a sex-starved maniac—which I was of course—but Gabe didn’t have to know that. Embarrassed, I lowered my legs and tried to squirm free, but his grip tightened.

  “Hold still, will you?” Gabe pulled down my pants along with my lace panties and the air-conditioning chilled my heated flesh. He handed me a foil packet. Oh wow. He wanted me to put on the condom. I tore open the package and then focused as I slowly rolled on the thin elastic.

  “You’re driving me crazy.” Gabe ran his hand over my stomach to between my legs and fingered me. I shuddered and closed my eyes.

  “Kate, look at me.” I opened them and then I was airborne. Gabe lifted me until I could wrap my legs around his waist. With one thrust he drove into me. Gasping, I tightened my legs around him. I looked down to where I saw our bodies joined together, my pale skin contrasting with his tanned skin. It was the most erotic sight I had ever seen.

  He gripped me under my buttocks and I began to ride him. The tension increased and I met his thrusts, seeking something I knew only Gabe could give me.

  When my release came, I cried out his name and gave myself to him.

  I didn’t have a bone left in my body. The muscles and tendons were shot as well. Never in my life had I felt so languid, so relaxed.

  Of course, never had I experienced such sexual satiation. If you had asked me yesterday, I would’ve emphatically stated that no way a lover such as Gabe existed except in the wistful imagination of women.

  I tried to count the number of times Gabe and I had made love, but couldn’t. At some point over the course of the evening Gabe had carried me into the bedroom where now we lay together in spoon-fashion on my bed, the duvet and sheets a tangled mess on the floor.

  Was it still nighttime? I cracked one eye open and peered out. Nope. Judging by the pale light spilling through the cracks of the plantation shutters, dawn was upon us.

  I stretched cautiously, exploring the degree of soreness of unused muscles. Gabe’s arm ar
ound my waist tightened and I snuggled closer to his body heat.

  As I lay there quietly, enjoying the simple sensation of being with a man, the floodgates opened, freeing thoughts and images. Like a water globe the events of the past few weeks bobbed to the forefront. I tried to see a pattern, but it kept eluding me. Just when I thought I had a concrete idea, it would slip away.

  “I can hear the wheels of your mind turning,” Gabe murmured as he nuzzled my neck.

  I smiled and turned to face him. I circled my arms around him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “How are you?”

  I knew what he was asking and felt strangely touched. No man had ever asked me how I was after sex. Their comments had always centered on their needs.

  “I’m fantastic.” Pausing, I gathered together the edges of my courage. “And you?”

  A simple but loaded question.

  “Died and lying in paradise right now.”

  Tension I hadn’t realized had formed dissipated. I slid down so I could rest my head on his chest and listen to his heart beat. We lay in companionable silence.

  Questions formed, coalesced. I saw the incongruity.

  I bolted up and stared down at my lover’s bemused expression.

  My lover.

  The words coming out of the blue derailed me from my train of thought. Pleasure that had nothing to do with the physical variety rushed through me. I wanted to throw myself back into his arms, but the emotional abandonment to do so was merely a seed inside me. I needed to nurture this new development.

  Coward. What I really wanted to do was maintain the titanium walls built between me and the male species in order to protect myself from any more hurt.

  “Kate, what’s wrong? You have the strangest look on your face.”

  With an effort I pulled myself back to a safer topic.

  “Gabe, I know why this case doesn’t make sense. It’s like several different forces are at work. The explosion yesterday doesn’t match up with my assailant in the parking garage or the Bobcat incident or the person who shot at us in the courthouse.”