Secrets and Seduction: 5 Romance Novels (32 page)

Gabrielle touched his arm lightly, but it was like an electric current jolted through him as soon as she laid her hand on him. She tried to jerk away, but he grabbed her hand and held on. For the first time in weeks, he didn’t feel alone. Warmth flooded him and he felt connected to another human being.

“Let go.” Her voice sounded strangled.

“I can’t.” He needed that connection like he needed his next breath. Even more than that.

Gabrielle tugged hard on her hand. Her desperate blue glare crossed his, and a jolt of need ran through him, strong enough to steal his breath. He could easily picture the two of them in bed, their naked bodies seething together toward oneness. He got an immediate hard-on.

“No.” She drew out the word.

“Come home with me.”

“I don’t do flings.”

“How do you know what it would come to? Why can’t you give it a chance?”

“There’s no future in this. You’re feeling vulnerable right now, so you’re turning to the first handy female.”

“That’s not true.” He’d never felt this electricity before. This need.

“Yes it is. It’s called propinquity. We’re together in the same place at a time when you need to turn to someone. We’ve been together all day, so you feel a comfort level with me you didn’t feel before. You’re confusing need and comfort with something else.”

Was that what he was feeling? Doubt crept in, making him loosen his hold. Gabrielle snatched her hand away and tucked it beneath the table. He felt cold and bereft without her touch, and strangely less aware of her. When he’d touched her, his senses had felt heightened — now they felt muffled.

“It’s not propinquity.” How could he explain what he didn’t understand? But he tried. “There’s something about you … ”

Gabrielle stiffened. Her blue eyes iced over, but before they did, he thought he caught a glimpse of wariness. “You’re mistaken. If you’re finished, I need to get home.”

Shut out. It was something he’d experienced with greater frequency in the past few weeks.

“Gabrielle … ”

But she stood, a clear sign she didn’t want to talk about … whatever it was he’d felt any more. Christian sighed and stood, too.

He didn’t argue when Gabrielle grabbed the check and paid it. She had control issues. Whatever glimpses of hurt he’d caught, she clamped down on them quickly. She hid her wariness under a brusque business exterior. The simple act of touching seemed to disturb her. Everything about her screamed “back off.”

Christian wished he could heed the signs.

As she stood at her car door, her back stiff, he wanted to take her in his arms and give her comfort. Scoffing at his foolishness, he strode to his Jeep. Right now, he was inadequate to give solace to anyone, even himself. Gabrielle needed a man as confident as she was, a man like he’d been last month.

So why did he feel she needed him as strongly as he needed her?

The next morning, as Gabrielle waited for Christian to arrive, she grappled with her doubts about spending more time with him. She hadn’t had a moment’s peace since the restaurant yesterday when he’d grabbed her hand and a vision of them making love had blasted through her mind. It had been so real she’d felt his thrusts inside her. She’d felt a connection and oneness with him she’d never felt with another man.

The vision showed her the sex between them would be explosive. Christian would bring the same intensity to lovemaking that he devoted to drawing. She’d never experienced sex like that. All night erotic dreams had mimicked the vision, stimulating her almost to climax.

She didn’t know how she was going to spend the day with him without overheating or giving in to her desire. Already her bra felt too tight and her nipples too sensitive for the satin cups. Her panties were damp from the moisture seeping from her body, readying itself for pleasure. If he even touched her …

Her fear surged anew, as fresh as it had been yesterday. If she changed nothing, the prophetic vision showed she would give herself to him. Because she was psychic, she didn’t do casual sex, and with Christian, it couldn’t be casual, not when everything about him called to her, including his vulnerability. Every moment in his presence, she felt more drawn to him. She would give him everything, including her soul. She’d be more vulnerable than she’d been with any other man, and that would give him the power to destroy her.

When the black Jeep pulled into her drive at seven-thirty, she hurried out to the car. She’d never been a coward and she wasn’t about to start now. She had to find the forger quickly to prevent the vision of her and Christian from coming true.

She opened the car door. “Good morning.”

“Morning.”

He watched her like a cat watches a mouse as she settled into the seat. His eyes were a molten blue, his gaze sizzling enough to scorch. She knew why she was hot and bothered this early in the morning, but why was he? She refused to ask him.

The aroma of fresh coffee rose from his metal travel cup. Under that was the scent of soap and a citrusy aftershave. His face held the sheen of a close shave — touchable.

She wrenched her eyes away, her heart pounding in her chest. Her gaze caught on his long fingers wrapped around the steering wheel. She’d dreamed of them on her body, doing intimate things, most of the night.

Then she noticed the car wasn’t moving. “Shall we go?” The less time she had to spend trapped with him in a car, the better … for both their sakes.

Almost against her will, she studied him as he drove. Christian wore a navy blue polo shirt and blue jeans. The dark colors looked good with his black hair, giving him a strikingly handsome appearance. At the moment, that haunting vulnerability was gone, as he handled the Jeep with easy familiarity.

She shook off the fascination he held for her and sought something to say to break the stilted silence. “Your intern, Amir Rahmin, called me last night.”

Christian glanced at her, then looked back at the road. “What did he say? I assume he’s not the one — otherwise you would have called me and cancelled today’s trip.”

“You’re right. He says he didn’t touch the drawing. He’s faxing his handwriting sample to Kernfelter later this morning.” He’d also told her Christian’s partner had built the Densmore because Christian had been designing other contracts. He hadn’t personally overseen the construction. That’s why she hadn’t been able to picture Christian on the third floor.

“I need to call Bryce and tell him,” Christian said.

“Who’s he?”

“Bryce Gannon, my lawyer.”

At the name, she jerked. He was the young man Paul and Roger had pulled from the wooden cage in the water.

“Is he a friend of your brother’s?”

Christian shot her a piercing look. “Yeah. His frat brother. Paul’s close with several of them.”

She wondered if Sean from the vision was one of them, but there was no way to ask that question without revealing what she was.

“You’re lucky your brother looks out for you.”

Christian grimaced. “I thought so, too.”

She heard the “but” he didn’t voice. Was it a remnant from yesterday? “Did you talk to your brother last night?”

“No. I tried calling, but he didn’t answer. I think he’s avoiding me.”

“Maybe he just needs a few days to cool off.”

Christian’s silence spoke volumes, some of it accusatory.

She felt like apologizing, but checked that impulse. He’d agreed they had to question his brother and insisted on coming with her. She’d hated being the one to disillusion him.

The visit to Piggott Concrete eliminated them as a suspect.

The stop after that was Republic Steel, a huge, aging facility. Clearly it hadn’t seen an infusion of capital lately. Smokestacks stabbed the sky, belching smoke into the atmosphere.

As Gabrielle climbed out of the Jeep, Christian reached into the back seat and drew out a black golf umbrella. At her inquiring look, he shrugged.

“It’s going to rain again soon and it’s a hundred yards to the front door. I’m tired of getting soaked. My umbrella’s big enough for two.” He said it with a straight face.

Gabrielle fought the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. He didn’t mean anything intimate by his remark. But she thought about sharing an umbrella, how close they’d have to be. He’d hold it with one hand while he clasped her around the waist with the other to keep her pressed close.

Whoa, girl. He’s not for you.

Walking side by side with Christian made her realize he was only four or five inches taller than her five foot seven. They’d fit perfectly together, in every way. Despite the cloud cover, her body felt overheated. She had to get her hormones under control. Obviously, she’d been too long without a man.

They approached the reception desk where a middle-aged brunette watched them with a carefully pleasant face.

Gabrielle introduced herself and told the woman why she was there. “I need to speak with whichever account representative worked on the Densmore project.”

“That may take a little while to figure out. You’re welcome to wait over there.” The receptionist waved to a seating area where half a dozen men and women sat.

Gabrielle and Christian found two seats together. A man with a blueprint carrier stared at Christian with cold hazel eyes.

“Ziko,” the man finally said. “What are you doing here?” His dark brown hair was cut short, his jaw squared, his body long and trim.

“Business. And you, Bob?”

The people around them stared. Gabrielle had noticed several of them showed recognition at Christian’s name.

“Business. I didn’t realize you were working.” Bob didn’t mention that Christian had been in jail. “I’m curious about your company and about what’s going to happen to it when you’re no longer … free.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

Bob gave a humorless laugh. “You’re delusional if you think that.”

Gabrielle could tell Christian was angry by the muscle ticking in his jaw. But Bob’s attitude jangled her memory about who would benefit from a frame.

“What company do you represent?” she asked before Christian could escalate the tension with a reply.

“He’s Bob Cranston with Hoepflmeier, Dortmouth and Cranston Architects,” Christian said.

“Ah. That explains it then. A competitive rival. Professional jealousy.” She crossed the space to Cranston and held out her hand. She needed to read him right here and now.

Cranston stood, towering over her. Automatically he gave her his hand, but he frowned as he did it.

The vision was not what Gabrielle expected.

An older man tossed some papers on the desk in front of Bob Cranston. “I assume you heard the Golden Boy’s building collapsed.”

“Yeah, who hasn’t?”

“Those are the contracts we lost to Barrett and Ziko. None of them are started yet. I want you to contact each of them and see if they want to reconsider our bid.”

“We don’t even know what caused the collapse.”

“Doesn’t matter. Some people will get nervous, and we want to be there when they do. Give them an alternative and they’ll trade allegiances.”

Cranston looked from the papers to the older man. “That’s cold, Ted.”

“That’s good business. A partner has to make the most of every opportunity. Make those calls, Bob.”

Gabrielle released Bob’s hand. So he was innocent of the frame. It wasn’t as clear about his partner’s involvement, so she’d better give his name to Christian’s lawyer and investigate him. This Ted person could have colluded with someone in Christian’s firm, like Brittany, to bring Barrett and Ziko down. A desire to increase market share was a powerful motive.

Gabrielle leaned in toward him to speak quietly. Cranston leaned forward as well.

“Michigan Casualty wondered who would benefit from the Densmore’s collapse. I should have thought of your company sooner. Do you have time now for some questions?”

Cranston jerked back as though she’d slapped him. “What?”

“Is now a convenient time? How long do you have before your appointment?”

“You’re crazy,” he tried to keep his voice low. “My company didn’t have anything to do with that. It was him.” He nodded toward Christian.

“I’d be interested in knowing how much business that originally belonged to Barrett and Ziko now belongs to your firm. It’ll be easy enough to find out.”

He paled. “Jesus, you’re serious.”

“Of course. That’s my job.”

“Mr. Cranston?” the receptionist called.

Cranston turned his head toward the receptionist like he was being thrown a life preserver and then back to Gabrielle again. “I’ve got a meeting.” He bent, snatched up his blueprint carrier and beat a hasty retreat to the front of the lobby.

Gabrielle returned to Christian. As she sat back down, she noted the curious eyes on her.

“What’d you say to him?” Christian asked in a low voice. “He turned white.”

“Tell your lawyer to add his firm’s name to people who would benefit from framing you.”

Christian’s eyes widened. “You can’t think Cranston would do something like that to get business?”

“Are you going to start arguing with me over suspects again? I thought we got past that yesterday.”

He scowled like a sulky boy. “I can’t believe it of Bob.”

“Maybe not Bob, but he’s got partners. Either way, they’re viable suspects. Your lawyer wants to find directions to point the investigation. Bob’s firm profited — or will profit — from your business problems. That’s called motive. I’ll have to pay them a visit this afternoon.”

“You’ve got balls.”

Gabrielle tried to decide if he’d given her a compliment or a putdown. “I’m just doing my job.”

She had to use those balls to get the home address and phone number of Jerry Flanders, the Republic sales rep who’d handled the Densmore order, when they found out he’d been laid off in the downsizing a few months earlier. Only this time Christian didn’t seem too happy about it.

The expected rain had begun while they were inside. Christian opened his large black umbrella and wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her close.

This vision was of them kissing, hungrily devouring each other’s mouths. When Christian turned her to face him, she thought it was the vision. But his warm lips on hers were real. He was just as hungry as the man in the vision, and so was she. She’d forgotten how wonderful the first throes of dating could be, when hope was a shining beacon bathing everything with color and light. When a man’s touch made her breathless, expectant, eager. When a kiss meant everything.