Breakaway (5 page)

“Sure.”

“Why did you ask me and not some other guy?”

There came another pause as Celia pondered his query. “I asked you because I don’t want to be bothered with some
other
guy.”

Gavin’s expressive eyebrows lifted a fraction. “So, you want to
use
me to run interference?”

“Yes.”

He shook his head. “Damn, Doc, you really know how to bruise a dude’s ego.”

Celia rolled her eyes upward. “My heart bleeds for you, Gavin. I’m willing to bet a year’s salary that every second there are at least a hundred
dudes
somewhere in the world using women for their own selfish reasons.”

Gavin sobered. “I’ve never used a woman.”

“Maybe not you, but I’ve been a victim on a few occasions.”

“Do you like…men?” he asked hesitantly.

“Of course I like men. I was engaged…” Celia’s words trailed off before she could tell Gavin about the ordeal that left her with visible
and
invisible scars.

“What happened, Celia?”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t want to or you can’t?”

“Both,” she confirmed. “Not right now.” She glanced at her watch. “I think we’d better get going or Terry’s going to be late for his appointment.”

Terry began whining when he saw her, his tail moving like a pendulum. “Look at you, baby boy.” Leaning over, she picked him up. “You’re almost good as new.” Turning him around, she stared at his side. “I take that back.”

Gavin moved closer. “What’s the matter?”

“He’s biting the stitches. He’s going to need one of those plastic collars.” Celia wrapped Terry in a towel, handed him off to Gavin while she locked up the house.

“I’ll drive,” Gavin said, opening the passenger-side door to his vehicle. He handed her the puppy. Placing his hands around her waist, he lifted her and Terry effortlessly and settled her on the seat.

“Show-off,” Celia teased.

Gavin ignored the taunt. Picking her up was like lifting a child. His fingers had spanned her waist with room to spare. Either Celia Cole-Thomas was naturally thin or anorexic. He’d hoped it was the former.

Rounding the vehicle, he slid in beside her and started the engine. “Give me the address to the hospital and I’ll program it into the GPS.” There were less than thirty
miles between Waynesville and Asheville, and barring traffic delays they would arrive within half an hour.

Belted in, Celia settled back to enjoy the passing landscape. She didn’t want to think about the man sitting less than a foot away. She’d asked a man, a stranger, to accompany her to a friend’s get-together. What made it so incredible was that she knew nothing about him beyond his name. If they were to present themselves as a couple, then she needed to know more.

“What do you do for a living?”

“I’m in personal security.” The lie rolled off Gavin’s tongue as smoothly as honey. It was a lie he’d told so often that he could repeat it even if he’d been injected with a truth serum.

Celia turned to stare at his strong profile. “What’s the difference between regular security and personal security?”

“People hire me to protect their person.”

“Rich people?” she asked.

Gavin nodded. “Have you seen the film
Man on Fire
with Denzel Washington?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m Jon Creasy without being the hard-drinking, burned-out CIA operative.”

Celia sat up straighter. “Are you armed now?”

Gavin stared out behind the lenses of his sunglasses. He knew he had to tell Celia the truth because he was mandated to carry a firearm while working a case.

“Yes.” He gave her a quick glance. “Does that bother you?”

A nervous smile trembled around her mouth. “No. My brothers, uncles and most of my male cousins learned to handle a gun in their teens.”

Staring into a firearm pointed at her and then watching Yale fall with blood soaking the shirt of his scrubs bothered her; seeing her patient shot at point-blank range bothered her and continued to bother whenever she relived the scene in her dreams.

“Have you ever fired a gun?”

Celia focused her gaze on the road. “Yes. It was at a firing range. My father claimed I needed to learn to handle a firearm because I’d never know when I’d have to defend myself. What he didn’t know and still doesn’t know is that I favor legislation for gun control.”

“I take it you don’t believe in the Second Amendment.”

“I believe in law-abiding citizens’ right to own weapons, but should criminals have the same right?”

“Criminals don’t care about the law one way or the other, Celia. They live by their own code, and at times administer their own form of justice.”

You’re preaching to the choir, Gavin,
Celia mused. “Who do you work for?” she asked, deftly changing the topic of conversation.

“My cousins. The main office is in Charlotte.” Gavin’s cousins did own and operate a security company in Charlotte, and at any given time would verify that he worked for them.

“Who have you protected?”

“I can’t tell you names because we’re bound by a confidentiality ruling that we would never divulge the identities of our clients. What I will tell you is that I’ve guarded the children of actors, sports figures, entertainers and an occasional business mogul.”

“Why did you choose such a dangerous profession?”

Gavin signaled, maneuvering off Route 74 toward Interstate 40 and Asheville. “It was either security or law
enforcement. I make a lot more money providing personal security, my assignments are flexible and I get to travel all over the world on someone else’s expense. That’s something I’d never be able to do as a police officer. Why did you decide to go into medicine?” he asked, smoothly directing the focus away from him.

Celia’s head came around and she stared at him. “Why don’t you want to talk about yourself?”

Gavin’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “I just answered all of your questions, Celia.”

“Not all of them.”

He gave her a sidelong glance. “What else do you
need
to know?”

“Were you ever married?”

“No,” he answered honestly.

“How old are you, Gavin?”

He chuckled softly. “Now, if I’d asked you your age you would’ve told me to mind my own damn business.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Okay. How old are you, Celia?”

“I’ll turn thirty-four in August.”

Gavin’s gaze shifted to the lighted GPS screen. They were less than ten miles from the animal hospital. “I thought you were younger. I’m thirty-seven.”

“Do you like women?”

His deathlike grip on the wheel tightened. “Hell, yeah, I like women. Why would you ask me that?”

“Unmarried at thirty-seven. I was just checking.” Celia averted her head so he wouldn’t see her smile.

Gavin relaxed his grip, realizing Celia was just testing him when he saw her shoulders move. So, he mused, the doctor did have a sense of humor. She’d been sharp-
tongued and all business when she’d shouted orders at him the night before.

“You think I’m gay?”

“No, Gavin. The thought never crossed my mind.”

“And if I was?”

“I’d still want you to be my date for Saturday. Someone’s sexual proclivity has no bearing on me. Once consenting adults close the door to the bedroom they can do whatever they want.”

Gavin’s opinion of Celia went up appreciably. She was pretty, smart and open-minded. His role as an undercover agent left little or no time for a normal relationship with a woman. The few long-term relationships he’d had usually ended when he wasn’t willing to take it to a level that included marriage and children. He’d submitted a request for a desk position, and if or when it was approved he would consider marrying and starting a family.

“Do you like men?” he asked.

The seconds ticked as Celia stared through the windshield. “Yes, I do. Why?”

Resting his right arm over the back of her seat, Gavin ran his fingers over the nape of her neck. “Just checking.”

He wasn’t disappointed when she turned to smile at him, neither aware of the invisible web of awareness making them willing captives.

R
eaching for Celia’s hand, Gavin held it protectively in his strong grasp as he led her across the animal hospital’s parking lot. Her brow had knitted in consternation when the veterinarian who’d examined Terry recommended keeping the terrier for at least three days. He’d complimented Celia’s surgical skills and reassured her that Terry’s chances of survival were very good. The canine’s treatment plan included pain management and IV feeding.

Leaning down from his superior height, Gavin pressed his mouth to her ear. “I thought we were going to share Terry.”

Celia shivered slightly from his moist breath. “We are.”

“That’s not possible when you registered him as Terry Thomas, not Terry Thomas-Faulkner.”

She didn’t know whether to sucker punch Gavin or
laugh for his teasing her. She did the latter. “You know you’re a little crazy.”

“I’m serious, Celia.”

“What are you going to do with a dog when you’re off protecting the world’s powerful elite?”

“The same could be said for you when you’re practicing medicine.”

“But I’m not practicing medicine. I’m on leave, and
if
or when I return I’ll have someone take care of him.”

Slowing his stride to accommodate Celia’s shorter legs, Gavin dropped her hand and wrapped an arm around her waist. He felt a modicum of guilt because he knew facts about Celia she’d probably forgotten or wasn’t aware of.

He wondered whether she knew that her late fiancé had fathered a son at seventeen. The baby’s mother had given him up for adoption. Trevor-Jones had another secret. Although he’d been caught cheating in high school, his family’s name, money and clout got the charge expunged from his permanent records.

Gavin didn’t know whether Celia’s decision not to practice medicine was because she was still grieving the loss of her fiancé or because she’d feared a repeat of an episode that almost cost her her own life.

“Why aren’t you practicing?” She stopped abruptly, causing him to stumble but he quickly regained his balance.

Celia stared up at Gavin. Wearing flats put her at a distinct disadvantage. Standing close to five-ten in her bare feet, whenever she wore heels not many men towered over her.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m sorry for prying.” Gavin actually hadn’t expected her to disclose any facts about her personal life.

“It’s not about prying, but me not wanting to, as they say, spill my guts to a stranger.”

Putting both his arms around her waist, Gavin pulled Celia to his chest. “After a couple of dates we should stop being strangers.”

She lifted her chin. “Who said anything about a couple of dates? After Saturday’s cookout we may never see each other again.”

“How soon you forget, lady doctor. You promised to share Terry with me and there’s still our cook-off challenge.”

Lids lowering, lashes brushing the tops of her cheeks, Celia was able to conceal the rush of excitement eddying through her body. She’d boldly asked Gavin to go to Hannah’s with her, something she’d never done with any other man, but she didn’t want to be presumptuous and assume he wanted to see her again. After all, he’d come to the mountains on vacation, not to become involved with a woman.

“How long is your vacation?”

Gavin pressed a kiss to Celia’s forehead when what he’d wanted was to taste her mouth. Her mouth and voice were the personification of sensuality.

“It’s as long as I want it to be,” he said after a comfortable pause. “I’m leasing a time-share. I plan to stay through the Labor Day weekend.”

Her eyes caught and held his amused gaze. “You’re kidding, aren’t you?”

Attractive lines fanned out around Gavin’s eyes when he smiled. “No, I’m not. I just finished a job where I spent two months traveling with a businessman and his family throughout Europe and Asia. Once I returned to the States it took a week to balance my
body’s circadian rhythm and even longer to readjust my taste buds. Speaking of taste buds,” he said without pausing to take a breath, “how about sharing lunch with me?”

Her smile was as intimate as a kiss. “I’d love to share lunch with you.”

Tightening his hold on her slender body, Gavin tucked Celia into the hard planes of his physique. Holding her, inhaling her feminine scent made him aware that she wasn’t skinny, but slender. Her womanly curves fit perfectly within the contours of his length.

“What do you feel like eating?”

Celia closed her eyes, melting against the man who reminded her why she’d been born female. A rush of craving, longing and trembling she’d never known held her in a vise-like grip, refusing to release her.

He looks so good.

He smells so good.

He feels so good.

And I need him to make me feel good—to help me to heal inside and out.

Hot tears pricked the backs of Celia’s eyelids with the silent entreaty. She’d spent the past year wallowing in fear and grief. As a doctor she’d come face-to-face with life and death on what had become a daily basis. She’d called the time of death on patients ranging from newborns to centenarians, and it was never easy. She was a scientist
and
a realist. It was inevitable that life was always followed by death.

What she never would’ve anticipated was that her own life could’ve possibly been ended by a teenage boy who had resorted to murder because of a frivolous boast.

Gavin eased back, staring at the woman in his em
brace. “Are you all right, baby?” The endearment had slipped out unbidden.

Celia nodded, smiling. “I’m real good,” she admitted. And she was. Being cradled in Gavin’s arms made her feel as if she’d been frozen, locked away in a state of suspended animation for the past year, and now she was finally thawing out. “There’s a restaurant called Carmel’s on Page and Battery Park. They have good food and alfresco dining.”

“Let’s do it. You’re going to have to show me how to get there.”

Glancing at his watch, Gavin noted the time. It was almost one. He’d suggested lunch because he’d only drunk two cups of coffee earlier that morning. Most of his time was spent on the computer, reading updates from a secure government site in order to gather information as to the whereabouts of Raymond Prentice.

It was as if his brother had literally dropped off the planet. Meanwhile, the band of gun thieves had successfully pulled off two more robberies—one in Arkansas and the other in Oklahoma. What Gavin found puzzling was the speed at which they’d traveled from one state to another. They’d robbed a shop in Jonesboro, Arkansas and three hours later they hit another dealer near Lawton, Oklahoma, only miles from the Fort Sill Military Reservation.

An ATF memo indicated the gang’s major focus was on U.S. law enforcement dealers. Another memorandum was circulated to dealers, warning them to be vigilant and to alert their local law enforcement of individuals who appeared to be window-shopping instead of purchasing firearms.

The latest information from the inside informant was
that a member of the group, a former Army sniper, was left behind to search out and execute Raymond Prentice. Gavin knew it would be a race against time to find his brother before the sniper.

Celia and Gavin decided to wait for a table outside the restaurant because they wanted to take in the sights of downtown Asheville while enjoying the balmy spring weather. Once they were seated she ordered smoked turkey breast, Swiss cheese and a cranberry-horseradish mayonnaise on sourdough bread.

Gavin had selected a crab cake sandwich with rémoulade sauce, romaine, tomato and red onion on a Kaiser roll. He’d also ordered a half carafe of white wine to accompany their lunch, and after a glass, Celia felt completely relaxed.

“I can’t remember ever drinking wine with a sandwich,” she said, smiling.

Gavin stared across the table at his dining partner. There was something about her bearing and body language that called to mind the graceful movements of a prima ballerina.

“Haven’t you had wine with bread, cheese and salad?”

Celia nodded. “Yes.”

“We ordered dishes with lettuce, tomato, cheese and bread, so drinking wine is permissible.”

“Do you like traveling?”

Her question was so unexpected that it gave Gavin pause. “Yes and no.”

Propping her elbow on the table, Celia rested her chin on her fist. “Why yes and no?”

His lids came down, hiding his innermost thoughts from her. He didn’t like lying to Celia, but he couldn’t
afford to be forthcoming because it would reveal his identity and his mission.

“It’s always nice to visit a country where I’d never been. The downside is I find myself getting homesick.” He glanced up at her. “And I get homesick for the worst things.”

“Like what?”

“Hamburgers, franks, deep-dish pizza and Southern fried chicken.”

Celia’s eyebrows lifted. “What about North Carolina pulled pork?”

“That, too,” he crooned as a dreamy expression came over his face. “Have you done a lot of traveling?”

“I used to when I was a young girl. My dad would take me with him on business trips to Belize, Mexico, Jamaica and Puerto Rico. Once I entered high school, academics became a priority for me. I knew I wanted to become a doctor, so all of my spare time was spent studying. I have a few doctors in the family, so they would give me study tips for the MCAT. Thanks to them I scored in the top one percent.”

“Where did you go to medical school? No, I take that back. What schools did you apply to that accepted you?”

Lowering her arm, Celia dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “I applied to all the Ivy League schools. The others were Johns Hopkins, Howard and Meharry. I was accepted into most of them, but decided on Meharry.”

“Why Meharry?” Gavin asked.

A mysterious smile softened her parted lips. “I fell in love with this part of the country. The first time I drove through the Great Smoky Mountains I felt as if I’d stepped back in time, and I made a promise to myself that once I became a doctor I would buy property here.”

“Do you keep all of your promises?” he teased.

“Maybe not to myself, but if I promise someone else something, I do everything within my power to keep it.”

Leaning over the table, Gavin gave Celia a long, penetrating stare. “Will you promise…”

“Promise what, Gavin?”

A deafening silence swallowed them in a cocoon of anticipation where they were able to shut out everything and everyone around them. The seconds ticked as a slow smile parted Gavin’s firm lips. “I want you to promise me that we’ll be civil when it comes to Terry.”

Slumping back in her chair, Celia’s expression registered disbelief. She’d thought what he’d wanted to propose had something to do with them, not the dog. Perhaps, deep down inside she wanted it to be different—that she’d met Gavin under another set of circumstances.

She also wasn’t oblivious to the admiring glances women diners directed at Gavin. Celia wanted to tell them they could look, but he was going home with her. Her fingers tightened around the stem of her wineglass. Now, where had that thought come from? She, who’d professed not to have a jealous bone in her body, was suddenly struck by the green-eyed monster.

“I promise.” She placed her hand over her wineglass when Gavin attempted to refill it. “Please. No more.”

His hand halted. “You only had one glass.”

“One glass is my limit.”

Gavin leaned over the table. “What happens after the second glass?”

Celia also leaned closer. “I lose my inhibitions.”

“No!”

“Yes-s-s,” she slurred. “My tongue doesn’t work well after one glass.”

Reaching over the table, Gavin took her hands in his. “I promise not to take advantage of you if you do drink that second glass.”

I wouldn’t care if you did,
she mused. Easing her right hand from his loose grip, Celia traced the rim of the wineglass with her forefinger. “I trust you to keep your word,” she lied.

Gavin’s gaze moved from Celia’s face to her chest. He could discern the lace on her bra under her blouse. The flesh between his thighs stirred when he recalled the press of her firm breasts against his chest. He wanted Celia Cole-Thomas in his bed, he between her legs and his hardened flesh buried so deep inside her they wouldn’t know where one began and the other ended.

“Are you an only child?” He had to say something, anything to take his mind off the solid bulge in his jeans.

Celia smiled. “No. I’m the dreaded middle child. I have an older and younger brother.”

“Being the only girl should’ve made it easier for you.”

“Wrong, Gavin. Being the only girl isn’t what it’s cracked up to be when you’re a Cole.”

Gavin forced back a smile. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted Celia to open up to him. “Is there something special about being a Cole?”

“Very, very special. Have you ever heard of ColeDiz International, Limited?”

A beat passed as he pretended to search his memory. “No. Why?”

“ColeDiz is the biggest family-owned agribusiness in the United States.”

“Will I be able to look it up on the Internet?”

Celia nodded. “You can, but chances are you won’t find much information because it’s privately owned.
There was a time when most of the top positions were relegated only to those with Cole blood, but my father changed that. Now, only the CEO is mandated to be a direct descendant of Samuel Claridge Cole.”

“Who is Samuel?”

“He
was
my great-grandfather. The male members of the family are encouraged to join the family business, while the girls can choose any profession.”

“Who’s the CEO?”

“My older brother, Diego.”

For a moment, Gavin studied Celia intently. “Is your younger brother involved in the family business?”

She shook her head. “Nicky wants nothing to do with growing and exporting coffee, bananas and cotton. He bought a horse farm in Virginia, and spent millions on horseflesh to improve the bloodlines. He struck gold last year when one of his Thoroughbreds came in first in the International Gold Cup race. My brother did something I thought was very strange. He announced that he was retiring New Freedom and putting him out to stud.”