“What do you mean?”
“She damn near got herself killed tonight. Once those assholes figured out we were in the house, they tried to kill us. She took one of them out before I could do it. I damn near shot her.”
Connor led him to the sofa and slid into the chair across from him. They were in the apartment he’d bought five years before. Gabe wasn’t exactly sure when or how Connor had come into his money. Sparks had come to Creighton on a lacrosse scholarship. He’d been brought in to captain the ailing team and he’d turned it around fast. His own family had consisted of a single mother who’d spent her life waitressing in
a bar. She’d thanked God Connor was athletic and happily shipped him off to boarding school. All too often, she hadn’t picked him up for holidays. The rest of the group had split time taking him home on vacations.
But this place, while understated, bespoke wealth. It was the penthouse of an exclusive building on the Upper West Side. Clearly, his buddy was doing all right for himself.
“She isn’t the type of woman who will hide when she can fight. I’ve been studying her, asking around.” Connor had his own Scotch in hand. “Her employees really like her.”
“She honestly saved your ass tonight?” Roman asked, handling the old bottle of booze they’d saved from Mad’s house, along with the files and the metal box. Thankfully, Connor had turned up before the police so none of what they’d escaped with had been confiscated as evidence. “And this Scotch? She should get a medal for saving this. Let’s open it.”
Gabe moved the bottle of vintage alcohol out of Roman’s reach and passed him the much more reasonable twenty-five-year-old bottle. His buddy was missing the salient point. “Yes, but only after she took a crazy chance that could have ended with me putting a bullet through her heart.”
He still couldn’t get that moment out of his head. He’d crouched behind that desk, every sense he possessed focused on one thing and one thing only: those footsteps creeping closer across the floor.
Gabe had held his breath, waiting, waiting . . . He’d timed it just right and darted to his feet, more than ready to pull the trigger. He’d visualized taking the man out moments before he’d stood. Except as he began applying pressure to the trigger, he’d registered Everly standing there with her hair mussed, a fireplace poker gripped tightly in her hands.
He could have killed her. He could have accidentally put a bullet in her, and she would have ceased to breathe. To exist. He would never have been able to hold or kiss her again. And now he wanted to
strangle her because he was still so angry. Scared, he acknowledged. The thought of never seeing her again terrified him. He didn’t like the feeling.
“Go easy on her, man,” Dax said as he stood. “You owe her. She was smart as hell to figure out that place had escape tunnels.”
Connor frowned as he set his now-empty glass down. “It makes me wonder what else Mad was hiding.”
“I have no idea.” He turned up to Roman. “You really don’t know why he wanted to talk to Zack?”
Roman shook his head. “Mad didn’t tell me. He called and asked me to schedule a meeting. I told him Zack was too busy because he was pissed at Mad at the time. You know he always had a soft spot for Sara. After the way Mad treated her, he wasn’t in the mood to reminisce. I think he feels incredibly guilty about refusing now.”
“But Mad was coming to DC anyway?”
“He told me he’d camp outside the Oval Office if he had to.” Roman shrugged.
“Does Zack know a man named Sergei?”
Roman paused to think for a moment. “I can see if he’s met with anyone who goes by that name lately, but I don’t recall that he’s spent time with a Sergei. Honestly, since Joy was killed, he works day and night.”
“Mad’s last words to me were a question about that man. Dig for me, okay? Ask Zack.” He tapped the metal box they’d smuggled out. “I saved as many of the files from Mad’s desk as I could, along with this box we found hidden in the secret room. Can you get that open?”
Connor studied the lockbox. “One way or another. It’s deceptively strong. Also fire resistant. He wanted this info to survive. I’ll have it open by morning. It’s late tonight. Why don’t we all head to bed? There’s not a lot we can do until I get this sucker open and the police have more information. Once they ID the dead guy, we can try to figure out who hired him. Maybe then, we might piece together who’s behind this crazy shit, maybe even who killed Mad.”
Gabe had been thinking the same thing. And the waiting added another layer to his untenable mood. He glanced back, his gaze climbing the stairs to where he knew Everly would probably be showering, water sliding down her bare body as she got ready for bed. Damn, even though exhaustion and worry weighed him down, one thought of her and he was beyond ready to climb inside her again.
Roman clapped him on the shoulder, bringing him out of his reverie. “Go to her.”
With that advice, his friend headed back to his hotel. Dax waved to them both before climbing the stairs to the other guest room.
Gabe hesitated.
Connor shifted his stare from the lockbox and met his gaze. “I didn’t bother to make up the sofa bed.”
Gabe tightened. He wanted Everly, but she needed sleep more than his lust. “Maybe you should.”
He scoffed and poured himself another Scotch. “Be honest with yourself. You’re not going to sleep on the couch.” He winced Gabe’s way. “How’s Sara going to handle Everly? She must have seen the gossip sites by now.”
Sara was a reasonable woman, but her anger toward Mad hadn’t abated much. Though she’d been quiet during the funeral, his death seemed to have sharpened her fury to something approaching hate. Some of that transferred to the women Mad had flaunted to the press since he’d left her. Sara needed time to heal and bury the bitterness now that she’d buried the man. “I’ll tell her the papers have the relationship between Mad and Everly wrong.”
“So you’ll lie to her.”
“I don’t know what went on between those two. She swears nothing. Even Dax believes her.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Hell, I don’t know exactly what’s going on between the two of us. Either way, I don’t think I need to drag Sara into it. It could be weeks before she comes back to the city. If—and I mean if—Everly and I are still seeing each other then, I’ll ease Sara into it.”
“Or you could choose to believe Everly and tell Sara to deal. You’ve treated your sister like she’s made of glass and she isn’t. She knew who Mad was when she got involved with him. She knew damn well how it could end.”
“Do you believe there’s any way Mad and Everly weren’t involved?”
“Not a chance, but then I’m not the one who’s crazy about the girl. Sometimes happiness requires a certain suspension of disbelief, especially the romantic kind. If you wanted my advice, I would tell you that you can’t blame her for who she dated before she knew you. Maybe it’s best if you forget any relationship she had with Mad. She doesn’t seem to be yearning for him, but the way she looks at you is awfully interesting.” He shrugged. “If you want her, take her. And don’t look back.”
“I guess it’s good I didn’t ask for your advice.” He didn’t like how Connor’s words made him feel. Eager. Reckless. Desperate. “Are you going to bed?”
Connor’s head shook. “Nah. I’m a night owl. Besides, I think I might have figured out who our nasty little blogger is. I caught her scent this afternoon and I’ve exchanged two e-mails with her. I’m pretending to be a crazy conspiracy theorist. She thinks I’ve got a scoop. We’ll see if I’m right in the morning. I gave her some information. If it shows up on Capitol Scandals, we’ll know I’m close.”
“Her?”
“Yes.” Connor’s face was illuminated by the light of his computer screen. “I was surprised, too. Her name is Lara Armstrong. She’s Senator Armstrong’s only daughter, and she really tears into her father’s party a lot. Lucky for me, I’m a sucker for a rich girl with daddy issues.” He laughed. “Go to bed. I’ll get the box opened first thing in the morning. For now, I’m going to see if I can find a way to crush this earnest little blogger.”
“After you told me to go easy on Everly?”
“I’m not emotionally attached to Lara Armstrong and I don’t intend to be,” Connor explained with all the heat of an exterminator talking about a bug he intended to eradicate. “By the way, there’s a box of condoms in the nightstand.”
From what he could tell, Connor might not be emotionally attached to anyone but his childhood friends. But that couldn’t matter right now. Gabe needed to take care of his own issues before he helped his buddy.
He stalked up the stairs, well aware that his cock already throbbed for Everly. He needed to make a few things clear to her. They’d decided they were in this together for the duration. Partners of a sort.
She was about to find out who the senior partner was.
He opened the door to the guest room. She’d been smart enough to not lock it.
Her purse looked out of place among the masculinity of the antique paneling, dark iron-frame bed, and gray linens. Whoever had decorated Connor’s home believed in austerity. The only thing that saved the room from being oppressive was the white ceiling, with its intricate moldings and details common in prewar buildings.
That droopy black purse was all she had since she couldn’t go home. She really couldn’t now that every major news outlet in the country was spewing her name and digging into her past. Everly was alone in life . . . and he was the only person who could take care of her.
Gabe turned the bed down, not wanting to bother with it later. When he opened the nightstand drawer, he found the condoms right where Connor said they would be. At least something was predictable today.
After grabbing one, he opened the pocket door between the bedroom and bathroom. Steam floated out from the shower. Her clothes were neatly folded and placed on the countertop along with one of Connor’s T-shirts for sleeping. Apparently, he didn’t have the same wardrobe of women’s castoffs Mad had collected.
The thought of Everly wearing Connor’s clothes disturbed him. She didn’t need to wear anything to bed. He intended to make sure she didn’t put that T-shirt on.
He pulled off his own clothes with none of the care Everly had put into doffing hers. They fell to floor, then he stroked his cock twice
before rolling the condom on. All the while he envisioned her in the shower, her soft, curvy body slick with moisture.
Unable to wait a second longer, he stalked to the shower opening. She stood under the spray of the rainfall head with her back to him. He drank in the graceful line of her spine, the exaggerated curve of her waist, and the perfect globes of her ass. Her hair reached halfway down her back when it was wet, a gorgeous tangle of blond and red. Itching to touch her, he felt so hard it hurt.
She froze, her back stiffening. “I knew you would come sooner or later.”
At least he hadn’t scared her. He stepped in behind her, giving in to his instincts, his need to possess. He cupped her shoulders and ran his hands down to her breasts. “I couldn’t stay away. I’m not even going to try. I want you.”
“It’s a mistake.” Even as she said the words, her head fell back against his chest and he felt her sigh.
If being with her was a mistake, it was one he intended to make over and over. “Do you want me?”
Her hand drifted back to touch his hip. Her palm flowed down against his ass as she wriggled her own. His cock found the seam of her pretty backside and he nearly lost it.
“You know I do,” she muttered.
Everly didn’t sound happy about it. Honestly, he wasn’t thrilled with his obsession, either. But he knew whatever feeling flowed between them was bigger than they were. Fighting it would be futile.
“Then stop thinking and let it be for tonight. Everything else will sort itself out.”
Her breasts filled his palms with a sweet weight. He ran his thumbs across the nipples. The little nubs were already hard. Gabe loved how she squirmed against him and how her breathing picked up when he tweaked those pearls.
“We’re safe here,” he murmured. “We probably should have come here in the first place, but I wanted to see what we could find at Mad’s.”
Her every curve pressed against him, teasing and taunting him. “We had to go there. We have to figure out who killed him or we’ll never be safe again. I can’t let you go to jail.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his body. “You don’t worry about that. Keeping me out of jail is Roman’s job. But we need to get one thing clear, baby.”
He turned her around, walking her back until she reached the shower wall. He gripped both her hands in one of his and forced them high over her head, leaving her vulnerable and open to his stare, his touch.
“What’s that, Gabriel?” Her tone had gone husky.
“The next time I tell you to hide, you do it.” He loomed over her, intending to imprint his will on her.
She shook her head. “I couldn’t leave you.”
“I almost killed you.”
Her soft, velvet curves were distracting him from his very reasonable lecture. By the way her nipples puckered, despite the warm water, Gabe knew she wasn’t really listening anyway. As he crowded her, he felt the hard points against his chest. Between the water at his back and her skin blanketing his front, he was engulfed in warmth.
“But you didn’t,” Everly replied. “You wouldn’t have. You have to know how scared I was for you. I couldn’t leave you out there alone.”
“Never again, Everly.” He couldn’t hang on much longer—to his temper or his need. He couldn’t lecture her when all he wanted was to be inside her. He let his hand slide down her body, teasing its way to the cleft of her sex. “Tell me you want me again.”
“I want you so much.” Her words came out in a sexy groan.
“Tell me you need me.” He slid a single finger against her clitoris. She was already wet, her needy bud standing hard. His cock jumped at the sensation of her arousal coating his finger.
“I need you.” Her hips wriggled as though she couldn’t stop herself from seeking more of his touch.
“What were you thinking about that made you this wet?” Yeah, he didn’t give a shit about a lecture now, only about how slick she was,
how tight she would be around him. He rubbed her clit in rhythmic circles, just enough to coax her whimpers.