She wanted to slide her arms around his neck and lean into him, to part her lips and let those soft male lips ravish her. She wanted him to taste her all over, wanted the kiss to go on and on.
She whimpered when Gabe pulled away.
“Good night, Mattie,” he said gruffly, his intense blue eyes holding her a moment more before he turned and started walking away.
Mattie dropped down in the seat of her car. Her hands were shaking so badly she could barely shove the key into the ignition. She didn’t enjoy sex. She merely tolerated it. At least that’s what she’d always told herself.
She saw Gabe sitting in his pickup, waiting for her to start the car and pull out onto the street. He wasn’t the kind of man who left a woman alone in a parking lot at night.
She took a deep breath and managed to compose herself enough to start the engine. Shifting the BMW into gear, she slowly pulled out of the driveway. Gabe followed her to the entrance to her underground parking lot, then headed off down the street.
Recalling the heat she had felt in that simple good-night kiss and the fierce way she had responded, Mattie closed her eyes, amazingly grateful she had said no to Gabe’s dinner invitation.
And terrified she would weaken and call him, tell him she had changed her mind.
He shouldn’t have kissed her. He should have respected her dismissal and let it go at that. Instead, he couldn’t resist just a little taste of her.
A little taste, Gabe discovered, wasn’t nearly enough.
He sighed as he parked his truck in his designated parking spot in the lot next to his condo and turned off the engine. He could still feel the shape of her mouth under his, recall the scent of spring flowers that clung to her skin. That single little kiss had fired his blood, stirred a hunger he hadn’t known in years. It had taken sheer force of will not to drag her into his arms and kiss her until neither of them could think.
He smiled. He could only imagine her outrage. Or maybe she would have clung to him the way she had when he ended the kiss. There’d been fire in her response, not indifference. No matter how hard she denied it, something was there between them, simmering like a pot on the stove, ready to boil over.
As he walked into his condo, Gabe released a breath. He had to know if he was right and Mattie’s passion was simply buried. He had to know if the wild attraction he felt for her was returned, as he believed.
Shrugging out of his sport coat and tossing it over a chair, he poured himself a shot of single malt scotch, hoping it would relax him, take the edge of his unsatisfied lust.
He carried the glass over to the comfortable brown leather sofa in front of the stone fireplace and sank down, propping his boots up on the big oak coffee table. The condo was furnished in masculine colors: browns, dark greens and golds. Heavy oak furniture and overstuffed chairs, a throw rug in those same autumn colors covered the carpet beneath the antique oak coffee table.
There was a modern kitchen with marble countertops, twin guest rooms, each with its own bath, and a master bedroom with a big king-size bed. The place had everything he needed. But it was the sprawling Spanish-style ranch house in the Texas hills that felt like home.
Gabe took a sip of his scotch, leaned against the back of the sofa, thought of the kiss he had shared with Mattie Baker and tried not to imagine having her in his bed.
After a restless night and waking up with a throbbing headache, Mattie rolled wearily out of bed. Facing a long day at the office and needing to clear her head, she dressed in a pair of navy blue jogging shorts and a blue-and-white tank top. She liked to run early in the mornings, and after her sleepless night, she was desperate for some exercise. Pulling her hair back in a ponytail, she slipped her feet into a pair of running shoes and took off down the stairs.
The sun was up, the morning pleasant as fall moved closer. The breeze felt good on her face as she started along the sidewalk, easing into a steady rhythm. She told herself not to think of the cause of her sleepless night, not to think of Gabriel Raines and her unwanted attraction, tried not to remember his sensual kiss.
Eventually, the warmth of the morning sun began to seep through her and she started to relax. Picking up her pace, she padded along the sidewalk then stumbled at the sound of a deep male voice coming up beside her.
“I didn’t know you were a runner,” Gabe said, slowing his pace a little to match her shorter strides.
She took a deep breath and flicked him a sideways glance. “I’m not surprised to see that you are, since you obviously stay in shape. I am surprised to see you here.”
“Coincidence,” he said, and she cast him a look that made it clear she didn’t believe him.
“Well, sort of. I had you on my mind this morning and I kind of just found myself running in this direction. I didn’t think I’d see you, though.”
She shrugged. “I like to run. I spend a lot of time indoors. Running gets my blood flowing.”
“Mine, too,” he said a little gruffly, and she flicked him a sideways glance. Gabe always seemed to be thinking of sex and now that she had met him, she couldn’t seem to stop thinking about it, either.
They ran together for a while, the silence stretching out, growing more comfortable than she would have imagined as they jogged along at a steady pace. When her legs began to tire, she started to slow and Gabe slowed, as well. Perspiration made his T-shirt cling to the heavy muscles across his chest and shoulders, and a little shiver of awareness went through her.
She bent over and propped her hands on her knees, fighting to catch her breath. “I’ve got to get back,” she said. “I’ve got to get to work.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
Mattie had a feeling he could run twice this far and not be out of breath, but he had a job to do, just as she did.
“Haven’t changed your mind about supper, have you?” he asked.
She shook her head and hoped the truth didn’t show in her face. She wanted to go out with him. She wanted more of his sexy kisses, wanted to know if they could make her feel the way she had last night.
“Can I ask you a question?”
She eyed him warily. “I guess.”
“Are you afraid of all men, or is it just me?”
Mattie straightened. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, then maybe you’re just afraid of yourself.”
She started to argue, then wondered if maybe he was right. Because she really wanted to go to dinner with him and she couldn’t understand what was holding her back.
“Invitation’s still open,” he said. “If you say yes, I won’t press you to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Mattie bit back a reply and Gabe shrugged, accepting her unspoken refusal but clearly not happy about it.
“See you around,” he said.
Mattie watched him jog away, his body moving with surprising grace for a man of his size and build. For an instant, she fought the urge to call him back.
But she was who she was and that wasn’t going to change. Not even for Gabriel Raines.
Gabe’s cell phone rang as he got out of his pickup late that morning in front of the Greenwood Apartments, his project near the Farmer’s Market.
He pulled the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. “Raines.”
“Gabe, this is Thomas Daily with the arson squad. I thought you’d want to know we dropped the charges against Angel Ramirez. A couple of cans of turpentine were found at the scene. One of my men talked to your foreman. He said they weren’t the brand you usually use. In fact they were an oddball brand that isn’t sold many places. We traced the cans to a local hardware store. The guy who bought them wasn’t Hispanic.”
“Have you made an arrest?”
“Unfortunately, the guy paid cash and his description fits about a hundred-thousand white guys. We hoped to get some kind of composite sketch, but the clerk said he wasn’t paying that much attention. I’ll let you know if we find him.”
“Thanks.” Gabe hung up, relieved that Angel hadn’t set the fire. He knew how happy Mattie would be but resisted the urge to call and relay the news. It was crazy to keep pursuing a woman who didn’t want to be pursued. He wasn’t some kind of stalker. If she wasn’t interested, she wasn’t interested.
Oblivious to the pounding of hammers and the buzzing of saws, he walked over to where Sam stood talking to one of the drywallers.
“There’s a problem with the job your guys did in apartment twenty-seven,” Sam was saying. “You need to get someone in there to do it over.”
“Must have been one of the new guys.” Jim Pritchard, the drywall contractor, was a burly fellow with a fringe of hair around his bald head. “I’ll get it done, Sam. Don’t worry.”
The tension in Sam’s shoulders relaxed. “That’s good enough for me, Jim.”
Pritchard walked away and Gabe approached Sam. “Looks like we’re making good progress,” Gabe said.
“Not too many problems. At least no more than the usual bullshit stuff. By the way, Captain Daily called me. He wanted to know about some cans of turpentine the fire department found. I told him it wasn’t the kind we use.”
Gabe nodded. “He just called. I guess they ran down the guy who bought the stuff. Since it wasn’t the Ramirez kid, they decided Angel wasn’t the one who set the fire. Daily said they dropped the charges.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah, except whoever did it is still on the loose.”
“Definitely not good. At least the kid’s off the hook. You said he was only seventeen?”
Gabe nodded.
“Listen, you haven’t been out much, lately. I know a place that’s kind of interesting. Got some good-looking ladies who come in on Wednesday nights. How about we grab a couple of beers over there after work?”
He didn’t really want to go. He couldn’t get his mind off Mattie Baker. But that situation was going nowhere and he might as well face it.
“I’ve got a meeting with the guys on the redevelopment committee. I won’t be finished until after nine. If that isn’t too late—”
“That’s fine. Place doesn’t really get going until about then. Call me when you get out of the meeting and I’ll pick you up.”
“I’d rather meet you there.” Then he’d have time to go home and change, and he could leave the place whenever he wanted. “Where is it?”
“The club is in the bottom floor of the old Hammerfield building. You remember. We bid the remodel job a couple of years back, then the sale fell through. The new owners hired someone else.”
“Yeah, I remember. Glad they finally did something with the old place.”
Sam slapped him on the shoulder. “So I’ll see you there later,” Sam said, and both of them headed back to work.
Seven
Mattie stopped by to see Angel and his mother after work. Sid Weiss had called with the news that Captain Daily had found evidence that cleared the boy of suspicion and the charges against him had been dropped.
Rosa and Angel were grateful for all Mattie’s help, as well as Gabe’s, and seemed thrilled that she and Gabe were hoping to find a way to help Enrique with his work.
Home at last, Mattie fed Tigger and checked his automatic watering bowl, took a nice long shower and began to dress for the evening she had planned. She only had one real vice, which was actually more of a vanity. Her voice. She was a very good singer, and when the mood struck, she could really belt out a tune.
In high school, her friends had tried to convince her to consider a career in music, but Mattie wasn’t interested. And in truth, she probably wasn’t good enough to make it all the way to the top. To her, singing was just for fun. She loved performing once in a while, but she didn’t want to be an entertainer full time.
Still, as often as she could on Wednesday nights, she and her best friend, Tracy Spencer, went down to Club Rio to sing karaoke. It wasn’t the same as singing with a band, but it felt just as good and it was just as much fun.
Mattie particularly liked disco, everything from the Bee Gees’ Saturday Night Fever album to just about any Donna Summer song. She liked Cher, Diana Ross, Tina Turner, pretty much anything hot and fast. It was a sinful addiction, like eating a big, gooey piece of chocolate.
As she stood in front of the mirror, fighting to fasten a dangly rhinestone earring, she heard a familiar rap on the door and hurried into the living room to let her friend in. Tracy was tall and svelte and gorgeous, her straight, blunt-cut blond hair falling around her shoulders, pale bangs covering her forehead.
She gave Mattie a quick hard hug. “See, I’m not even late.”
“No, you’re not!”
Tracy made a brief perusal of the very short, scoop-necked, sparkly silver dress Mattie wore, so completely at odds with her usual business wardrobe. “You look fantastic!”
She had left her auburn hair unbound and let it dry in natural curls that formed a halo around her face and fluffed out around her shoulders.
She grinned at Tracy, who wore a yellow leather miniskirt and matching halter top, both of them in very high spiked heels. “You look pretty great, yourself.”
Tracy grinned back. “We’re going to knock ’em dead tonight.”
“I hope so. I’m definitely in the mood.”
It was the one time Mattie allowed her inner self to surface. When she sang a hot disco song, she wasn’t reserved, career-driven Mattie Baker. She was a sexy femme fatale, a woman so seductive she left a trail of broken hearts wherever she went.
Fortunately, no one but her closest friends knew her secret passion, only a couple of people at the office she trusted, certainly no one in her business circles. Club Rio was the kind of blue-collar place business people rarely frequented.
Which left her completely free to indulge her secret fantasy self.
“Just let me put in my other earring and grab my purse and we’re out of here.”
“I’ll drive,” Tracy offered. “My car’s parked in someone else’s space downstairs so I need to move it anyway.”
Tracy had returned to Dallas a few years after graduating from UCLA. She had a bachelor’s degree in liberal arts, but instead of going for her teaching credential as she had once planned, she had chosen a career in real estate. It suited her outgoing personality, and after a couple of years, she’d started making a good deal of money.