Bailey: Independence #1 (26 page)

Gabriel exhaled shakily. He’d never been conflicted as a master before Bailey. He knew he wasn’t interested in a sub on a twenty-four hour a day basis, so why did it bother him that she acted on her own?

Because it involved her safety, he argued flatly.

He stood on the porch, oblivious to the cold as the last of the police finished and drove from the property. He was relieved to see that the detective was nowhere to be seen but he was as curious as the Lieutenant about her behavior. Maybe a little look into the detective’s background was in order.

Bailey had stripped off the shirt and positioned herself in the center of the bed. She lay staring into the night. She hadn’t bothered with the lights. She knew she’d made a big mistake in one portion of their life. And she’d have to accept whatever punishment he felt necessary. In that portion of their life, she repeated to herself. But she was not sorry. She’d been terrified he’d be hurt. If the murderer had waited, if the murderer had wanted to kill him, she would have stared into those beautiful dark eyes, wide and empty.

Tears broke free, her eyes squeezed tightly together. She didn’t move when the bed dipped and the warm, male body pressed against her from behind. She held a pillow tight against her, her arms wrapped around it and face pressed into the down.

“I’m not sorry, Gabriel. I was so worried,” she whispered hoarsely. “I’m not a shelf type.”

“I don’t remember seeing my shirt and baseball bat looking quite so good before,” he ran his palm over her head. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow, Bailey. Go to sleep,” he kissed the back of her head, his palm slipping around her waist and holding her close.

Chapter Twenty-Three

He never questioned how he knew. He just knew when things weren’t right. Even half conscious. Especially when the warm body he’d been contentedly wrapped around was no longer where she should be. Then he heard the mild curse and knew it was Bailey. He expected her to come back to bed and curl into the warmth considering November was coming in like a bitch and he’d forgotten to adjust the thermostat.

But the space beside him remained empty. And was getting colder by the minute.

Gabriel sat up slowly, ignored the unkempt hair falling over one eye and listened. She was in the outer room. His gaze went to the bureau where he’d left her clothing and the frown deepened. He did not like the answer that came to mind.

A low curse left his lips when he shoved his legs over the edge of the bed, the cold of the night had settled in and was in vast conflict with the past few days where it had actually been warm. Jeans were ripped off the chair and his legs shoved into them, leaving them open until he went to the bathroom. The zipper came up as he stalked down the hallway.

She stood next to the breakfast bar, bent intently in the dark at barely seven in the morning on a Sunday. He figured she was bent so she could see whatever it was she was intently focused on writing. He recognized his notepad, her right hand moving slowly over the surface.

Gabriel moved into the room and leaned against the door. He crossed his arms over his chest and cleared his throat. Loudly.

Bailey really believed she could get away without being noticed. Her fingers tightened on the pen and she stood up, absently tugging on the hem of her dress and too damn aware that she hadn’t had panties on since Friday! And it was fricking cold in this house!

“Uhh…good morning.”

“No, Bailey, a good morning would be you and me still beneath the warm blankets and making it a hell of sight warmer with a wake up fuck.” Gabriel saw the slight wince at his words. “Or two. Since the last time or two we’ve been interrupted. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Going home. I’m sorry I woke you,” she said with a trace of the firm resolve in her voice. “I…umm…I was leaving you a note.”

“A note,” he repeated, mildly pissed off and rising considerably.

“Well, I don’t have my phone and can’t send you a text,” she threw back defiantly.

Bailey closed her eyes when he crossed the room and lifted the notebook. She figured it was good that he hadn’t gone all master on her yet and was just cold, confused guy. Although she really wasn’t sure there was a big difference at the moment.

She shivered but refused to move when he came closer. Brain was telling her to step away from him and body was telling her he was generating some serious heat and she was cold. So she stayed put.

“Gabriel, thank you for a nice weekend?”
He read the words and looked at her in disbelief.

“Well, it was mostly nice,” she murmured.

“Given the issues, I believe it would be best if I returned to my apartment. I have locks and will be fine, thank you for worrying. Sincerely, Bailey.”
Gabriel let the notebook slap against the counter. “The issues,” he repeated flatly.

“I think it might be better to…the people being killed…” Bailey swore all the words she wanted had been in her head minutes before. Now? Poof! Gone. Damn cowards.

“Alright, give me a few minutes to dress and I’ll drive you to your apartment.” Gabriel left her standing there gaping at him, wide eyed and open mouthed.

Oh, no. Bailey paced the room. It can’t possibly be that simple. She stared at the hall, frowning and shivering before she went to the thermostat and set the temp to seventy. He was up to something, she knew it.

“This is really, really sweet of you, Gabriel, but you don’t have to take me home. I can easily call up a cab and…” Bailey knew there were more words but she was pretty sure she swallowed them whole when he backed her against the front door of the house.

“It’s barely thirty-five degrees outside. You don’t have underwear on and you don’t have a coat. Do you honestly believe I’m letting you loose dressed like that?” He had his hands up and on either side of her head.

“Oh. Well…”

“Let’s go.” Gabriel reached for the keys with one hand and grasped her wrist with the other. He didn’t doubt for a second she’d run if given the chance. And he was damn sure not offering her that choice.

Bailey stumbled after him, scowling until she thumped against him when he came to a stop outside the SUV. She watched the garage door rise as she climbed inside, shivering and really a little more than glad she wasn’t standing on the side of the road waiting for a taxi.

“You don’t have to pull and push at me,” she wrapped the shawl tightly around her and fastened the seatbelt.

“You’re shaking like a tree in a storm,” he ground out flatly. “I should have thrown one of my coats around you.”

“Yeah, well…it was warm on Friday,” she shrugged. “Weather. Who knew. The point is, I’m not making a mad dash for freedom.”

“Really? And here I thought that’s what the note meant,” Gabriel heard the anger in his voice and wondered where it was coming from. He’s the one who told her he wasn’t interested in someone clinging. He’s the one who told her it was all about the play and nothing more.

“I was attempting to be adult and give you your home back,” she said carefully, keeping her face turned to the window and staring at the grey skies at they lightened with the sun.

“An adult,” he repeated curiously. “Adults sneak out of the house when it’s still half dark?”

“It was after seven a.m.,” she ground with a hint of Irish temper flaring.

“We were up half the fucking night…” He paused and chuckled. “Fucking.”

“Oh, ha-ha-ha,” Bailey hated the flare of color in her cheeks. After spending hours in various positions screaming for him, you’d think she could at least have a conversation without blushing. She struggled not to look at him. He was just so darn cute when he let himself relax and smile. Those were the in-between times, when they just lay quiet and talked about junk stuff. Nonsense and news and games and books.

“I don’t recall any protesting. In fact, I have this distant memory of a redhead waking me up with the most delicious kiss on my…”

“Alright. Yes. I never said there was protest.”

“I didn’t ask you to leave, Bailey.” Gabriel ground the gear when he shifted and swore softly. The woman was making him nuts. He was glad there was little traffic out although being on the road when it was barely seven-thirty on a Sunday hadn’t been in his plan. But Bailey had a bed.

She didn’t have an answer for him so she stayed silent. Was she running away? Probably. She sighed.

Alright, maybe definitely. She could hear the voices in her head telling her over and over that dating the boss couldn’t end well. Add to that the murders.

This time he saw her body shake. He parked just outside her building and snapped his belt loose. He knew she wasn’t cold. He’d run the heater at full to keep her warm.

“What’s wrong, Bailey?”

“Nothing. I’m good. Thank you for the ride,” she said hastily, didn’t risk looking at him and pushed the SUV door wide. She was on the ground quickly, closing the door and making a light run toward the building. She prided herself on only stumbling at the doors because he had come up behind her with speed belonging to some wild animal. A wild, pissed off and hungry animal, she amended. She jumped slightly, her keys falling into his palm while his other hand went to her waist.

“You’re lying to me. I don’t like being lied to, pet,” he told her softly, his tone not letting her mistake what he meant.

“Things are just too complicated right now,” she said firmly, setting her lips and reaching for her keys. Keys he held out of her reach as they waited for the elevator.

“So you tell me what’s complicated and we work them through. We uncomplicate them, together. You don’t run from complications, you confront them.” Gabriel pushed a long breath from his lips when she stepped ahead of him into the elevator, arms up and across her chest. “Body language is telling and that isn’t a renowned stance for being open minded.”

“I’m tired. I’m used to dealing with my own problems in my own way in my own time,” her voice had continued to rise each time it looked like he would speak. “I am not used to someone bulldozing over me to get the conclusion he wants.”

“Once you tell me the issues, I’ll let you know if they’re yours alone or we share them.” Gabriel was positive her eyes couldn’t get any bigger as she gaped at him. “Want me to take a guess at them, Bailey?”

“What I want doesn’t seem to matter. May I have my keys, please?” She held her palm out when the elevator opened only to find him twining his fingers with hers and pulling her along the short corridor to her apartment. There were only two on each floor and she knew the other one was empty. Bailey sighed when he worked the locks like he owned the place, shoving the door wide and stepping back to let her enter.

Gabriel watched her look around her place and knew she was making sure things were where they belonged. She might think she was keeping everything locked up inside, but she really wasn’t that good at it. The murders were more than enough to upset the stability you had control of in your life. He suspected being in her life was one more complexity she wasn’t accustomed to dealing with.

Which was fine. He wouldn’t give her a choice and would manage her like he did most of his life. Very well.

“Do you have a suitcase or two?” He met the momentary look of confusion that was followed by stunned disbelief. “Yes, I did just ask that. You aren’t staying here, Bailey. Someone is killing women. Two of those women put across an appearance that made them look like you at a distance. I am not leaving you here on your own. Where are your cases?”

Bailey blinked, shook her head and closed her eyes. Next thing she knew, she was swept off the floor and carried into the only bedroom in the place. Gabriel dropped her onto the bed and walked into the closet like he owned the place.

“Good and solid,” he complimented, carrying two large suitcases from inside and tossing them to the floor. “Now, you can pack what you want and need. You can pack hobbies and books. I don’t care. But you aren’t staying here,” he repeated once more in the silence. “So you either pack or I pack for you. Which drawer has your underwear in it?”

Gabriel knew he was pushing, the lewd grin on his face widening when she flushed a bright pink.

“Miss O’Conner…are you hiding something you don’t want me to know about in these drawers?” Gabriel went toward the bureau, opening the top drawer and staring at the jewel tones of color. “This is what hides beneath that sexy suit you wear on Mondays,” he murmured, lifting a brilliant royal blue pair of lace panties by one finger. He felt his cock reacting and knew if she were in the panties, she’d damn soon be out of them. Even if he had to replace them on a regular basis.

“I need a shower,” she managed, heading for the bathroom without looking back. She kicked her shoes toward the closet and continued walking. Why did she let him get to her? Oh, sure, she’s had lots of guys pawing through her underwear drawer, happens all the time.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Gabriel chuckled softly, pulled his tee shirt over his head and dropped it to the bed. He toed the soft loafers off and tugged his jeans down his legs. He waited until he heard the sound of the water running before moving toward the partially open bathroom door.

He stared for a few seconds at the steam shrouded silhouette behind the frosted glass doors. She faced the shower head, face tipped up and water coating her and each of the curves he’d held against him the last few nights.