Cold Touch (23 page)

back, move over her and kiss the breath out of her mouth. Then move down her body kissing her everywhere else.

He didn’t quite understand it and was sure nothing like this had ever happened to him before, but the truth was, he had a

major case for the woman in his arms. He’d thought of nothing but her from the moment they’d met, admiring her more every

time they spoke, desiring her more practical y every time she moved.

He’d had affairs before, even thought he was in love once. But it had been a long time since he’d felt this mix of confusion

and want, frustration and irritation, hunger and tenderness al at the same time, al directed toward the same woman.

Olivia had gotten under his skin fast.

She seemed to read his mind. Either that, or she’d been feeling the same spark and wanted something to happen between

them, too. Because, without warning, without another word, even, she moved up and brushed her lips against his jaw.

He groaned, stiffening as a flood of heat washed over him. She smel ed good—her skin, her hair, her breath. He wanted to

lose himself in al those sweet, delicious scents.

She came closer, tasting her way to the corner of his mouth.

“Liv . . .”

“Just kiss me, please,” she whispered, her longing evident. “One kiss.”

One kiss? One kiss to drive out the bad memories and her fear and make them forget the tears that had fil ed her eyes and

the screams that had fil ed his ears?

Not such a bad bargain—for either of them.

He bent to her, and their lips brushed lightly, once. They parted, shared a breath, then met again, soft and quiet, new and

fresh. Like every first kiss should be.

But, oh, she tasted so good and felt so right, and when she parted her lips and that delicate tongue swept against his, he

was helpless to resist taking more of what she was offering. Their tongues met in a slow exploration that reminded him of what

he so liked about kissing. The closeness of it, how personal and intimate it was—almost more intimate than sex. Not to mention how good it felt.

One thing he knew, this wasn’t going to end with just one kiss.

It stayed languorous and lazy for a minute or so, then got more intense. He couldn’t seem to taste her deeply enough. He

sunk his fingers in her hair, twining them in the silky strands, and turned her head a little so their mouths could join more intimately.

Olivia shifted, moving up onto him. She didn’t weigh much, and when that bent leg moved farther, so she could straddle him,

he groaned, deep in his throat. Her breasts pressed against his chest, her nipples puckering against her shirt, tempting him

beyond belief.

He hardly noticed when she tugged his dress shirt up out of his pants and slid her hand over his stomach. His skin sizzled

upon contact, and every part of him that wasn’t already hard got that way pronto.

He wanted to do the same, to touch her, stroke her skin. Fortunately, her soft, filmy skirt draped over his pants, not only

leaving her warm sex pressed against his groin—
Lord have mercy
—but also baring her legs. He reached down to cup one

bare thigh, marveling at how soft she was. How feminine. How perfect.

How goddamned strong.

And a witness. A goddamned witness

Not to mention an incredibly vulnerable woman who’d been through hel .

That did it. As much as it pained him, physical y hurt him, he let go of her leg and slowed the kiss, final y ending it. Olivia

stayed close, stil on top of him, her face an inch or two away from his. They both breathed deeply, raggedly. But before she

could lean down to kiss him again, which he suspected she wanted to do, he careful y shifted out from under her.

Her whole body went stiff. “Gabe?”

“I’d say that was a little more than being stil , darlin’,” he said with a tender smile, wanting her to understand that he didn’t

regret kissing her even though he wasn’t ready to do it again. “Now, I think maybe we should go downstairs, if you’re feeling

up to it.”

She swal owed, her throat working with the effort, and her bottom lip, so luscious, so wel kissed, trembled.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he said, hearing the thickness in his voice. Oh, he most definitely wanted to. At this moment, he

wanted to make love to her more than he wanted to hit his thirtieth birthday, and, frankly, he’d always kinda wanted to get that

far, since everybody in his hometown had predicted he’d have a short, rough, wild life.

She nodded once. “It’s not exactly the ideal situation, is it? Not to mention the fact that we met less than a week ago.”

It seemed crazy that they’d only known each other for five days, considering how she now fil ed his thoughts. They’d shared

some incredibly intense moments and some nice ones, too, the last few being right up there at the top. He hoped there’d be a

chance for more of them.

Are you crazy? She’s totally out of your league.

The inner voice sobered and disturbed him, mainly because it wasn’t wrong. Olivia’s grandfather had been a senator; Gabe

was the abused grandson of a dirt-poor farmer. She lived in the Victorian District in a house that probably cost about twenty

times his annual salary, and he’d been proud of himself for being able to scrape up the money to buy a tiny little two-bedroom

condo a year ago. She was al soft Southern gentility, and he was one step above po’ white.

There was no way this could go anywhere, and he’d been crazy to even think about kissing her, much less doing it. He

needed to remember that, and, if necessary, point it out to her as wel . But not now. Not when he was here, in her bed, because she’d put herself through a horrific, painful ordeal and had fal en asleep in his arms.

An ordeal they had yet to even discuss. “I think we should . . .”

His words trailed off when he heard a door slam, then a voice cal ing from downstairs. Olivia’s eyes widened in surprise,

and for the barest second he wondered if she’d forgotten to tel him she had a husband or live-in boyfriend lying around somewhere. Then he realized the voice cal ing Olivia’s name was female.

“Livvie? Where are you?”

“That’s my sister. She has a key,” she whispered, quickly rol ing off him, then sitting up on the edge of the bed. “I’l be right

down, Brooke!”

Gabe sat up, too, trying to stuff his shirt back into his pants and wondering where his shoes had landed. He’d kicked them

off when he’d realized he would be spending part of the afternoon in Olivia’s bed with her. He sure hadn’t anticipated what

would happen when she woke up from her much-needed sleep.

They probably would have been fine, could have gotten themselves put back together, if her sister had stayed downstairs.

She didn’t.

“Oh, thank God you’re al right,” she said as the bedroom door flew open. “I’ve been trying to reach you for . . . oh!”

Feeling like a kid caught making out by his girlfriend’s parents, Gabe stood, uncomfortably aware of his lack of shoes and

the untucked part of his shirt. Judging by the sister’s expression, she had come to some obvious conclusions, and she definitely did not like them.

“You jerk!” the woman snapped. “How could you take advantage of her like this?”

“Brooke?” Olivia gasped, sounding shocked.

“She’s vulnerable and came to you for help!” The woman stalked closer, almost shaking with anger. Funny, Gabe had

considered her kind of a mousy thing this morning. Now she was more like a lion. And this lion had obviously been talking to

somebody who’d fil ed her in on the true nature of his relationship with Olivia.

Olivia obviously realized that, too. “Brooke, you’ve misunderstood. Gabe carried me up here because I needed to lie down.

I asked him to stay, and I just woke up,” she explained, her voice calm and reasonable. “He was a total gentleman.”

Yeah, right. Given his desire to rip her clothes off,
gentlemanly
was the last word he’d use to describe himself.

The apple don’t fall far from the tree, boy, and don’t you forgit it!

Angry with himself for remembering what his grandfather’s voice sounded like, much less one of his favorite expressions,

he shook his head hard.

“I’m fine, real y, Brooke,” Olivia said.

It was probably the reasonable tone that got through to the other woman. She final y stopped glaring at him long enough to

focus on her sister, whose upper arms she immediately grabbed. “Are you sure?”

“I promise. But, Brooke, what are you doing here?”

“We couldn’t reach you! We tried everything, your house phones, cel phones. Then somebody you work with said you were

here.”

Somebody she worked with?
How the hell . . .

“He saw Gabe carrying you into the house.”

“Your coworkers stake out your house when you’re not aware of it?” he snapped, disliking these people a lot, even though

he’d only ever met one of them. But frankly, if they let Olivia do what she’d done today and, in fact, capitalized on it for

“business,” he felt nothing but disgust for the lot of them. If he had his way, Olivia would never get within ten feet of a dead

body again for as long as she lived.

Olivia shook her head and lifted a hand to her brow. “Morgan.”

“That’s right!”

Shocked at the intrusion of another voice, Gabe looked over and saw yet another woman, this one a very attractive

brunette, standing there. He recognized her immediately from the pictures on her Web site. This was Julia Harrington, owner

of eXtreme Investigations.

“FYI, your partner’s downstairs, too,” Julia said with a smile that was almost a smirk. She might have come here out of worry

for Olivia, but she looked amused at seeing a Savannah detective caught in a compromising position, since he was her natural enemy these days.

The enmity was pretty mutual as far as Gabe was concerned. He didn’t know that he was ever going to forgive Olivia’s

col eagues for what they regularly put her through.

Then her words sank in, and he realized what she’d said. “Wait.
Wallace
is here?”

“Jesus, you brought an entire army and walked into my house?” Olivia snapped.

Brooke nibbled her lip, for the first time looking a little sheepish at her brash entrance. “I’m sorry. I was worried. I’m your

sister, that’s my job.”

Huh. And to think he’d always wondered what it might be like to have a sibling. Right now, the whole concept didn’t seem

very appealing.

“Why don’t we al go downstairs and let Olivia splash some cold water on her face. She just woke up.” He shot Julia Harrington a glance, daring her to say a word. She remained silent.

Olivia nodded her thanks. “I’l be down in a few minutes.”

Pausing to grab his shoes, he found himself not giving a damn that Olivia’s sister and boss were eyeing him like he was

some low specimen who belonged on the bottom of hers. Al that mattered was that he’d been here for Olivia when she’d

needed him. It was the least he could do. Especial y because, sooner or later, she was going to have to tel him exactly what

had happened back in that coroner’s examination room.

So much for seduction.

When Olivia had awakened in Gabe’s arms, breathing in the warm, masculine scent of his body, feeling his muscled form

pressed against her, the idea of sex hadn’t exactly gal oped into her mind, but it sure had come at a fast trot. Her senses had

gone into overdrive, but this time they combined to entice her, not to terrify her. He looked so good, smel ed so good, felt so

damn good. And she’d wanted him.

She wanted to think it was only because she was attracted to him, had been affected by him from the moment they’d met,

but she knew it was more than that. She needed physical connection. Needed to be touched, stroked, fil ed. She needed to

feel the utmost physical pleasure, the most perfect delight life had to offer, in order to undermine the dark foundation that was

trying to build up inside her soul.

Not just because of today, as horrific as it had been. The darkness had been coming on for a long time.
Every time you do

it
.

But today . . . Oh, God, today had been beyond anything.

A little over three years ago, when she had told Julia Harrington she would work for her at eXtreme Investigations, there had

been one condition, one absolute, completely inflexible rule. Olivia would help solve murders and cold cases if they real y thought she could be of use. She would not, however, agree to be involved in any drowning or suspected drowning cases.

Period.

Julia, who knew enough of her story to understand why, had agreed without reservation. So, the only time she’d ever experienced that horrifying sensation of her lungs fil ing with water had been when she was fifteen years old and it was real y

happening.

Until today.

Thank God Gabe stopped it
. She’d started to go into that water, and then he’d pul ed her away, breaking the faint touch

between her and Jack’s remains and breaking the psychic connection as wel .

She had never been so glad to have somebody break a promise.

If she’d known the boy had actual y been drowned after he was strangled, she would have had to think twice about touching

him. Now that it was over, though, she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Not when the experience had uncovered such shocking truths. Which was why she needed to put al these thoughts and wishes and desires for Gabe Cooper aside for now.