Page 26

“Because,” he said, rising to close the distance between them. She didn’t retreat from his approach or resist when he settled his hands on her shoulders. “You fascinate me.”
“Fascination with fire is great until you get burned.” Nothing about their situation was sane or safe. “We said nothing professional.”
“I’m still in the personal zone. You wanted to know why I was talking to you like I know you. Hell, why I tried to take you out for coffee and dinner. Dating you comes with obstacles. I’m good with obstacles. Sooner or later, you’re going to say yes to me, and we can try this the normal way.”
Normal? What the hell was normal?
“And it’s my turn for a question, because by my reckoning, you’ve asked several.”
Irritation crawled through her because he was right. God, the man knocked her off her game. It was disheartening…Maybe I am compromised.Only the bitter rejection of the accusation she’d experienced before didn’t choke her this time. “You’re due. You keep putting up with me.”
When he glanced at the bed then at her, she nodded. He guided her over to the bed and yanked the covers back. The sheets were cool against her skin, but she needed the bracing. The orgasm had done wonders to loosen her up, but she didn’t want to relax. It would be too easy to say to hell with everything and just crawl atop him to let their bodies communicate.
Rolling onto his side, he faced her, head propped on his hand. “Why did you come to my room?”
Because you speak Japanese.Quelling the flip answer, she considered the question.Because I want to know if you’re someone I can trust.Pathetic.Because I can’t get you out of my head.More pathetic.Because youseeme when no one else does.None of those answers slipped past her lips. Telling him she refused to answer the question because it bordered on the professional would tip her hand—and it wouldn’t be entirely true.
Brendan Coyle was dead. Her efforts should involve investigating his murder.But I’m not a cop.She’d already reported it to the others, and they’d follow up the investigation. With Coyle dead and Barrow out of the running, Gabriel was the last suspect. By all rights, she should bag him and take him back to Chrome.
Those were her orders.
“What I wouldn’t give to be in that head of yours,” Gabriel murmured. She still hadn’t answered him, and the reality of their situation settled like a dead weight in her stomach. She’d promised him tonight, but in the morning, she had to proceed with the extraction.
“I don’t know why I came. The simplest answer is I wanted to see you again, but it’s not that simple.”
“Fair enough.” He cupped her cheek. “Was that really so very hard to say?”
“Yes, it was.That’sthree questions.”
He laughed, then swooped in to kiss her. Instead of being a hot, soul searing exploration of her mouth, it was a fast, scorching brush punctuated by humor. “You’re a tough nut, Copper. Give me a few more? The rules still apply.”
Wrinkling her nose, she slid her hand to his nape and stroked the ends of his hair. The faint discoloration on his shoulder—she’d given him that mark when she slammed her head into him in the parking lot. She’d never been one to mark her territory, but recognizing his toughness gave her a certain erotic satisfaction. “Are you playing me, Gabriel?”
“Personally or professionally?”
“Just answer. Either. Both.”
“We go professional this gets difficult for both of us.” The warning alone should have been enough to deter her.
“I know.” The question plagued her. She couldn’t tell. If she was truly compromised, she’d scratch herself from the assignment and tell Merc to decide. Her gut hated the idea. She trusted Merc with her life, but she didn’t think he’d have the same kind of care for Gabriel’s. “I have to know. Is this a game? A con? Are you playing me?”
“If I said no, it would be a little lie.” The blow cut off her oxygen. “I don’t want to play you. I don’t want to play anyone. I got out of the game for a damn good reason…”
“But?”
“But you walked into my classroom.”
Copper frowned. “I brought it to your door.”
“You did. I’m okay with it to a point, even if I have no fucking clue what you have going on.” They were both being so damned careful. Tension corded his shoulders and biceps. What he lacked for in mass, he more than made up for in his lean cut. A muscle ticked in his jaw.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“Probably as much as you aren’t telling me.” The corner of his mouth curved. “Hazard of the game.” With two fingers he traced the line of her collarbone to the cluster of scars above her breast. Hostile fire when they secured trouble spots in Kandahar. Following their path with her gaze, she waited for the inevitable question.
He didn’t ask.
From there he went to the long, pink line along the side of her breast. Knife fight in Croatia. Across her abdomen then to her hip, where pebbling left the skin rough and marked—when he arrived at those he frowned. “Gravel?”