Gabriel Is No Angel Read online

  Rae lifted one brow. “Brenda’s Hairstyling?”

  “Advertising,” Mike explained. “She’s my niece.”

  “You’re a nice man,” Rae said.

  He lifted both hands in mock horror. “Please. Don’t tell anyone, you’ll ruin my reputation. Get her out of here, MacLaren. And try not to embarrass me, will you? She knows my name.”

  “And I’m holding you responsible,” Rae countered.

  “You can come back anytime,” he said, chuckling. “And you don’t have to bring him with you.”

  “Thanks.” Smiling, Rae shook hands again.

  “Come on,” Gabriel said. “I’ve played straight man long enough.”

  He led her down a side street to a tiny, V-shaped park tucked between two office buildings. Flowers bobbed in waves as the breeze riffled through them, and two dogwood trees laid patterned islands of shade beneath their branches.

  “I’ve worked in this city for six years, and I had no idea this was here,” Rae said, settling onto the grass in one of those shady spots. “Nice. Very nice.”

  Gabriel turned to look at her. No restlessness shaded her warm-sherry eyes now. The breeze lifted her hair, turning it to a red-brown aureole around her face.

  His heart lurched, an honest-to-God physical reaction to the sight of her. it astonished him. He’d known prettier women. He’d known women who were smart and independent, women who were sensual. But until now, he’d never known one who could reach him so powerfully, and in a way that went far beyond attraction.

  “This is nice,” he said, easing down beside her.

  Rae registered his closeness with every cell in her body. And every cell reacted. The sunlight seemed abnormally bright all of a sudden, the breeze warmer on her skin than it had been a moment ago. Gabriel’s unique, musk-and-mint male scent blended exotically with that of the flowers.

  She had to do something, anything, to keep from leaning toward him. Reaching out, she took the bag from him and retrieved her sandwich. The moment she unwrapped it, the delicious aroma of fresh roast beef wafted to her nose. She held the sandwich up, admiring it. Thick slices of homemade wheat bread held a wealth of pink-tinged meat layered a luscious inch high. Lettuce and tomato made bright slashes of color against the beef.

  Sheer greed washed through her. She took a bite, closing her eyes in ecstasy as the bevy of flavors burst into her mouth.

  “Oh, boy,” she breathed, a wave of hunger washing through her. “That man really knows how to make a sandwich.”

  Riveted by the look of pure pleasure Rae’s face, Gabriel stopped chewing.

  “Mike is a great guy,” he said, pretending that his insides weren’t jumping crazily. “He’s had some hard times. Married his childhood sweetheart and spent twelve years in bliss, then lost her to cancer a couple of years ago. I thought for a while he’d just shrivel up and die. But he made it. As he says, it takes guts to live. And even more guts to live alone.”

  The story brought unexpected tears to sting Rae’s eyes. To cover them, she hastily took a bite of sandwich. When she looked up again, Gabriel was gazing at the tree branches above them.

  “It’s ironic,” he said. “So many people marry, divorce and end up hating each other for the next fifty years. Mike was one of the few who are lucky enough to find true love. And then he had to lose her.”

  Rae’s brows soared. “Detective MacLaren, are you telling me that you believe in true love?”

  His reaction was instinctive and instantaneous; give one inch here, and he’d get himself maneuvered into a corner. As the saying went, the best defense was a good offense. “Don’t you?”

  “I gave up childish fantasies a long time ago.”

  Gabriel lay on his side, propping himself up on his elbow. Her eyes had turned wary, emotion closed off as though it had never existed. And all because of the mention of love. Interesting. A prudent man would have left it alone, but he’d never been prudent.

  “Who hurt you?” he asked.

  Rae’s stomach dropped hard. She felt naked, vulnerable, her past exposed to a man who’d use his knowledge any way he could. Handling this would be tricky. Retreat was dangerous here, and so was attack. She kept her gaze on his, trying to lay a veil of casualness on feelings that weren’t casual at all.

  “Why would you think that was your business?” she countered.

  “I’m a cop,” he said. “Curiosity is my stock in trade.”

  “Mine, too,” she replied, surprised at the edge that had come into her voice. “So...why aren’t you married?”

  Gabriel started to say that he just hadn’t found the right woman yet, but that statement would be too revealing. He’d never made himself that vulnerable to another person, and he wasn’t about to start now.

  “I guess I’m just not the marrying type,” he said.

  Rae stared at him for a moment. She’d noticed a tiny hesitation in his answer, and knew he’d done some editing before speaking. She wondered what he’d hidden.

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Maybe I’m just restless,” he replied, shrugging.

  Her gaze remained speculative, and Gabriel knew she wasn’t finished. He also realized that she’d deftly turned the tables on him. One moment, he’d been asking the questions; the next, he’d been answering—and on the defensive. She was good—he’d give her that. There weren’t many people who could distract him.

  His gaze strayed to her mouth. A tiny spot of mayonnaise glistened on her bottom lip. Intending to fluster her, he reached out and cupped her chin in his hand. “You’ve got something on your lip,” he said. “Hold still.”

  “That’s okay,” she said. “I’ll—”

  “Hold still,” he growled.

  Slowly, with deliberate sensuality, he slid his thumb along her chin toward her mouth. A sudden impulse caught him. Instead of wiping away the fleck of white, he spread it over the sweet curve of her bottom lip. The heat of their bodies melted it, turned it into a film that slid slickly along their skin.

  Her breathing quickened. He registered it with his mind, his heart and his body. Of its own accord, his breathing shifted pace to match hers.

  Suddenly, everything changed. The game was no longer vice cop using his skill to tweak her reactions. It had become purely sensual, both more complex and more dangerous than the one he’d begun. He didn’t care. His eyes slitted almost closed as he ran his thumb over her lip again.

  A jet roared overhead, shattering the moment. She pulled away from him, and Gabriel felt regret down to his toes. He didn’t regret touching her. Oh, no. He regretted stopping. His hands ached with the desire to touch her again, to keep touching her until he’d assuaged this powerful need.

  Stunned by what had happened, Rae reached up to touch her mouth. Her skin seemed to retain the memory of his touch as though it had been burned into her. He hadn’t even kissed her.

  “So,” she said, fighting to regain some semblance of normalcy, “tell me about Peter Smithfield.”

  “What?”

  His gaze showed no understanding of words, but it was definitely communicating on another level. Rae tried to resist the heat in his blue-crystal eyes, but found herself drawn deep, deep, deep. Desire ran in white-hot rivulets through her body. He wanted her. He wanted her in a way no other man ever had, and she was drawn to him by everything that made her a woman.

  “I...” She swallowed against a throat gone tight and dry. “I asked you about Peter Smithfield.”

  With an effort, Gabriel disconnected from her eyes. Damn, he thought, she packed one hell of a lot of voltage. It took him a moment to remember why he’d brought her here. Rae Ann Boudreau seemed to take over his being, focusing him so completely on her that he lost his hold on everything else.

  He was in trouble. Deep trouble.

  “Why do you want to talk about Smithfield?” he hedged.

  “Because you have him and I don’t, and I have a subpoena to give him.”

  “This is one service you’re
not going to make,” Gabriel said.

  “Wrong,” she snapped.

  “Are you always this big of a pain in the neck?” he asked in exasperation.

  “You bet,” she said. “And I always get what I want.”

  “Let me give you a bit of friendly advice,” he said. “Want something other than Peter Smithfield.”

  “Gee, Detective, I’d really like to accommodate you, nice guy that you are. But unfortunately, I’ve taken somebody’s money to deliver a subpoena to him.”

  Gabriel would have liked to wring her neck. No, he amended silently. He’d like to do a number of things to her, all of them pleasurable.

  “You’d do better to work with us than against us,” he said.

  “Why?”

  A typical Boudreau response, he thought, gritting his teeth. “Look, Rae. We need Peter Smithfield right now. Badly. Once the case is finished, he’s all yours.”

  “Is the case almost complete?” she asked.

  “Ah...”

  “No,” she finished for him. “And do you know when it might be expected to be complete?”

  She waited for him to lie to her. The intent lay plain in his eyes.

  “No,” he said, “I don’t know when it will be complete.”

  Relief flooded through her. She didn’t know why an honest answer mattered so much, but it had.

  “That’s fair enough,” she said. “But you have to realize that Barbara Smithfield and her children can’t wait. They need that child support, and they need it now.”

  “Damn,” he muttered. There were times when his job required him to do things he didn’t like, and this was surely one of them. “You know where I stand on this, Rae.”

  “And you know where I stand.”

  “If that’s the way you want it,” he growled.

  “It is.”

  Locked in resentment and desire, they glared at each other a heartbeat longer. Then Rae snatched her trash up and scrambled to her feet.

  “Thanks for lunch, Detective,” she snarled. “I’ll see you around.”

  His eyes had turned cold and cynical, and his smile with it. He looked her up and down, and Rae felt as though he’d peeled flesh and bone away to look straight into her soul.

  “Count on it, honey-child,” he said.

  Chapter 4

  Rae stalked away. If she hadn’t been so annoyed, she would have remembered to stick her nose in the air.

  “Hey!” Gabriel called from behind her.

  Casting a glance over her shoulder, she saw him coming after her with long, efficient strides. She dived into the lunchtime crowd, then abruptly made a one-eighty turn and mingled with a group of women.

  It gave her a lot of satisfaction to see Gabriel turn the wrong way. Hah! she thought. Even arrogant, know-everything vice cops could learn a thing or two—with the right teacher.

  “Boudreau, you are an idiot,” she muttered. “Letting yourself getting snookered into lunch... Putting your brain on hold, hormones raging all over the place... Having fun with the man, for God’s sake... You ought to be taken out and shot!”

  She’d spoken the last sentence a bit louder than she’d intended, and a briefcase-toting businessman shied away from her. Rae hardly noticed him.

  Stepping off the curb, she flung up her arm to summon a passing taxicab. The vehicle screeched to a halt beside her. She pulled the door open and got in, nodding to the driver as he turned to look at her.

  “Where to, ma’am?” the driver asked.

  “Twelve twenty-one Harcourt Street,” she said, reaching to close the door.

  It was pulled out of her hand. Gabriel appeared in the opening, his mouth smiling but his eyes blazing hot with annoyance. He slid in beside her.

  “Hello, sweetheart,” he said. “Mind if I ride with you?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  The driver laid his arm on the back of the seat. “Look, buddy, if the lady doesn’t...”

  Gabriel showed his badge. With a grunt, the driver turned forward again. Rae scooted across the slick vinyl seat, intending to make a quick escape out the street-side door. Gabriel scooted with her, however, securing the door handle before she could get a grip.

  “Not so fast,” he growled.

  As the vehicle swung back into traffic, Rae crossed her legs and stared straight ahead, wishing she were anywhere else. No, she amended. This was her cab. She wished MacLaren were anywhere else. But there he sat, big and gorgeous and arrogant, his shoulder and thigh pressed so tightly to hers that she could feel the hard-muscled heat of him through her clothes.

  This was bad. Very bad. She needed some boundaries, and fast. Anger was always useful. She clutched hers, using it to protect herself.

  “That was lousy,” she snarled.

  “What was lousy?”

  “Using your badge to get what you wanted.”

  He raised his brows. “But this is police business, Ms. Boudreau.” Enough, his cop’s mind told him. But the man in him wanted more. Wanted to jog her into an admission that he’d gotten to her, too. “Or did you think there was something personal?”

  That really made her mad. She’d been struggling all along to keep her emotions out of her dealings with Gabriel, and had lost the fight every time he looked at her...like that. Damn him, he was doing it again. Looking at her as though he’d like to have her for dessert.

  “Trust me, there’s nothing personal,” she said.

  Gabriel smiled. “So what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is that I didn’t want to share my cab with you.” Rae drew a deep breath, trying to still her churning emotions.

  Gabriel ricocheted between the urge to shake her until her teeth rattled and the urge to kiss her senseless. Actually, he amended, the urge to kiss her was very much stronger. But since he had the feeling he’d be the one rendered senseless, he resisted that urge.

  Rae turned to glare at him. He was staring at her, his gaze almost frighteningly intense. It seemed as though he’d peeled her layer by layer, until her soul lay exposed. It frightened her. She didn’t want her soul exposed to any man, and particularly not to this one.

  “Don’t you have anything better to do?” she demanded.

  One corner of his mouth went up. “Nope.”

  “Wouldn’t it be more of a public service to go bust some drug dealers?”

  “Why don’t you like cops?” he asked.

  The question took Rae by surprise. She drew her breath in sharply, shocked that she’d been so transparent. And that her resentment against her ex-husband had so thoroughly soured her feelings toward all cops. It had. And it wasn’t fair. She’d always prided herself on her fairness, so this didn’t sit well.

  “I was married to a cop,” she said, fixing her gaze on the back of the driver’s head.

  “Ah.” Gabriel knew that the emotionless tone came from tightly held control. Whatever had happened to her marriage, it had hurt her badly.

  A wave of tenderness rolled through him, both unexpected and powerful. He shouldn’t care, damn it. He didn’t want to care, and she obviously didn’t want him to care. But he did. He wanted to know what made her tick, what made her happy or sad, all the things that made her inimically Rae.

  “It ended badly, I take it,” he said.

  Rae didn’t look at him. Couldn’t. She had no intention of telling him the sad, sordid tale of her marriage’s demise, her ex-husband’s constant harassment and the callousness of his fellow officers when they’d refused to go against one of their own. It had taken her a year to amass the evidence that had finally convinced her ex’s captain to take action. She’d handled it quietly, and that, too, had backfired. Even now, the other detectives in that department thought she’d hounded Danny right off the force. Truth was, he’d ruined his career all by himself. Unfortunately, no one else believed it.

  Gabriel wouldn’t, either. He was a cop, and cops stuck together. Always.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “With what?�
�� she asked, being deliberately obtuse.

  “Your marriage.”

  “Can’t we talk about something else?” she demanded.

  “No,” he growled.

  “We were married, it didn’t work out and we split,” Rae snapped. “End of story.”

  Gabriel leaned back against the seat and studied her with narrowed eyes. She’d lied to him.

  So, why not? that little voice whispered. After all, they were on opposing teams here. But this had nothing to do with Peter Smithfield. This was personal.

  Impossible. No, it was nuts. He had no business even thinking about anything personal where Rae was concerned. But even as that thought crossed his rational mind, his voice was saying something entirely different. Something personal.

  “Do you ever see him?” he asked.

  “None of your business,” she retorted.

  He scowled at her.

  Seeing that scowl, Rae smiled. “What’s the matter, Detective? Don’t you like my answers?”

  “Damned straight.”

  She batted her lashes at him. “It will do you good not to get your way for a change.”

  “I don’t—”

  He broke off as the taxi drew to a stop in front of her office building. The driver hooked one elbow over the back of the seat and looked back expectantly. Gabriel ignored him. He studied Rae closely, watching the emotions flitter through her eyes. She wanted to escape—badly. He’d dug too far down this time, and he’d dredged up things she’d rather keep hidden.

  Good, he thought. He wanted to shake her up. Hell, he wanted to do a lot of things—things that would send her screaming from the cab if she knew.

  “Hey,” the driver said, “if you’re gonna have a lovers’ spat, take it outside. I got a living to make.”

  Lovers’ spat? Rae recoiled from that. She really had to get out of this taxi. “What do I owe you?”

  “I’ve got it,” Gabriel said.

  “It was my cab,” Rae protested.

  Stung by a sudden, powerful wave of annoyance, Gabriel snarled, “I’m paying.”

  “Ooh, how masterful,” she cooed. “I wouldn’t dream of arguing.”