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Authors: Leslie Parrish

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BOOK: Cold Touch
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with her and her col eagues on the other—she had to again count her

blessings that he’d been the one to land this case. She put a hand on his arm,

feeling the bunched muscles tense beneath the sweaty male skin. “I won’t,

okay?”

He hesitated, then shook his head, slowly, his gaze locked on her face. “I’m

swimming upstream here, Liv. I have no idea what the hel I’m doing, but I

couldn’t make myself stop, even if I wanted to.”

Now she understood why he’d needed to come here rather than cal to tel

her what had happened. It was as if he needed to see her to convince himself

he was stil doing the right thing, as if he trusted her, drew some kind of

strength from her. Maybe it was because he’d been there, had borne witness

when she’d connected with Zachary. It wasn’t easy for anybody to let go of a

lifelong certainty that some things couldn’t possibly exist—it had been hard

enough for her. For a blunt skeptic like him? Wel , she had to admit, the man’s

courage in stepping out onto this huge limb with her stunned her a bit. Hel .

Everything about him stunned her a bit. It had from the minute he’d saved her

life last week.

“Thank you, Gabe,” she whispered. “Knowing someone who has so much to

lose is putting this much faith in me . . . wel , I can never express how much I

appreciate it.” Unable to help it, she moved closer, her hand tightening on his

arm, until they stood just a few inches apart.

“I’m not good at ignoring my head and going with my heart,” he said, his

voice low.

His tone and the way he looked at her made her wonder if they were stil

talking about just the case. There was something intimate in that stare, in the

way his eyes dropped to her lips and his own parted on a slow breath. She

sensed he was referring to something a lot more personal. Like the fact that

he’d been tel ing himself she was out of his league, that they were wrong for

each other . . . when his heart was saying
to hell with all that
.

She desperately wanted him to listen to his heart, to touch her, to finish what

they’d started this afternoon in the conference room. But she’d initiated both

their intimate encounters. If Gabe real y needed to get his head involved in

whatever crazy—yet also wonderful—thing was happening between them, he

needed to make the next move.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit down, relax, and have a beer?” she

asked, leaving it entirely in his hands.

He hesitated, as if tempted, then looked down at himself. “I’m a mess. But,

maybe I could use your bathroom and at least wash my hands before I go?”

She pointed toward a half-open door down the hal . “It’s right there.” Then

she added, “I’l be in the den—with your beer. If you’re real y stressed about

being dirty, just jump in the shower while you’re in there. Towels are under the

sink.”

She didn’t add that she was having a hard time wondering how she’d feel

sitting one room away while he stripped out of his clothes and washed every

inch of that big, broad body in her downstairs bathroom. Some things were

just better left unsaid. Or unthought.

Going into the other room, she almost held her breath, waiting to hear either

the sink or the shower. One would indicate he intended to simply say

goodbye, then leave; the other that he had reconsidered and might stick

around awhile.

After a long moment, she heard the shower go on.

Olivia smiled. So far, she suspected his head was making the same

decisions his heart would have. That made her happy, not just because she

hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the intimate moments they’d shared,

but also because she’d just gotten used to being in his company over the past

few days. It was amazing how quickly she’d gotten used to having him there.

She liked spending time with him and wanted more of that. Maybe,

someday, they’d even get to spend
normal
time together—going out for

dinner, taking a walk—but for right now, even tense, crazy, madness-is-al -

around-us time would do.

Something was building between them, something insistent, something

real. It wasn’t just sexual—although, yes, they were going to have sex sooner

or later, of that she had no doubt.

There was more, though. Having spent so much time with him over the past

few days, she realized she liked him, very much. More than liked him, real y. In

fact, he seemed like exactly the kind of man she could love. That combination

of blunt strength and sweet tenderness was nearly irresistible. When you threw

in the intel igence, the determination, the flashes of wit, the inherent kindness,

and an overwhelming sexiness, he added up to her perfect man.

She honestly hadn’t been sure men like him were stil around, much less

living in Georgia, working as cops.

Her mind whirling with al those thoughts, she didn’t even notice he was

finished with his shower until he walked into the den. At which point she

couldn’t think a single damn thing.

Because he’d put his jeans back on . . . but nothing else.

The jeans looked great. The nothing? Absolutely amazing.

Olivia’s heart leapt. The man was just stunning. No pale, lean, nine-to-five

body here; he was built like a boxer: smal waisted and lean hipped but so

muscled and toned through the arms, chest and shoulders that he looked

capable of lifting a car. His bare chest gleamed with moisture and steam from

the shower, and his muscles rippled with every movement as he toweled his

stil wet hair. Droplets fel from the damp strands, landing on his shoulders and

sliding down. They left faint zigzag lines that disappeared into dark, wiry chest

hair that swirled over the top of his chest.

“I’m gonna run out to my car and grab my gym bag. My workout clothes have

to smel better than these,” he said.

She tried to speak with too dry a mouth. Lifting her glass, she sipped her

water, then managed to mumble, “It’s fine. You don’t have to.”

“Hey, are you okay?”

She managed a tiny nod but kept her attention on her drink, not on him.

He apparently noticed that and misinterpreted. Moving closer, he put a hand

on her shoulder. “Liv, what’s wrong?”

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply as two strong scents fil ed her nose:

clean and male. Gabe moved his hand to her hair, running his fingers through

a few long strands, and she quivered a little. Did this smart man real y have no

clue what he was doing to her?

“What is it?”

No, he obviously did not. “Nothing. Just . . . go, do whatever you have to do.”

Before I do something I don’t want to do—like trying to encourage you to

think with a part of your anatomy other than your brain.

It wasn’t his heart she was referring to.

How could she not be thinking of that when he was standing right beside

her, his jean-clad legs a few inches away? He was so close she felt the

warmth as the moisture evaporated off his skin. The man was the most

sexual y exciting creature she had ever seen in her life, he was half naked,

and, given where he was standing, his groin was probably no more than eight

inches from her right cheek—not that she was looking. Hel , no.

Her voice obviously hadn’t convinced him, because Gabe suddenly

dropped to one knee beside her chair. “Talk to me. What is it? Are you upset

about what I told you? Do you want me to go?”

Men could be so incredibly dense. Final y swinging her head to look at him,

she snapped, “I’m trying to be honorable here, okay?”

His eyebrows almost shot up into his hairline. “Excuse me?”

“You said you weren’t used to fol owing your heart instead of your head, so

I’m trying to back off, let you real y think about what you want and not influence

you either way.”

“Influence me?” he said, sounding innocent, but she’d swear a hint of

mischief lurked on those incredibly soft lips.

“Gabe,” she said, speaking through almost clenched teeth, “I’m not going to

make the first move
again
, damn it, and then have you later say your head

wasn’t in the game. So if you want me, you’d better do something about it.”

That was a risk, but she was tired of dancing around this. She wanted him

badly but on open, aboveboard terms. No seductions, no stolen embraces

driven by pity or anything else.

After a moment that lasted just a couple of seconds but felt longer, Gabe

did something about it. Without another word, he cupped her face in his hands

and leaned in close.

She had a moment, one single moment to think,
Thank God.
Then he was

kissing her, tasting her, answering al her questions with warm, deep thrusts of

his tongue. He was hungrier than the other times they’d kissed, as if

desperate to memorize every inch of her mouth. It was as though he wanted to

claim her, make sure he kissed her so wel and so deeply that no man would

ever come close to giving her this kind of pleasure again.

Somehow, she already knew none would. Certainly none ever had before.

Without pausing, he dropped those powerful hands to her hips and tugged

her forward. Olivia parted her legs, al her feminine instincts taking over. There

was no deliberation, no thought, just pure reaction to the feel of him, his smel ,

his hot, hard body pressed against hers.

“Mmm,” she groaned when she let her hands begin traveling over that

muscular form. She kneaded the powerful shoulders, then felt her way down

his chest, twining her fingers in the crisp brown hair that ringed his nipples until

he hissed against her mouth.

Gabe seemed to want to touch her just as much. He reached for the front of

her sleeveless blouse and tugged, hard, sending buttons flying in al

directions. Not that she gave a damn.

“I’l replace it,” he mumbled against her lips.

“No need; I stock up at the dol ar store.”

He laughed softly, and she wanted to swal ow that laughter down, loving the

light, happy way he made her feel. She wished she could bottle this euphoria

to drink from later, a constant reminder that she
could
feel light of heart, could

flirt and be sil y and fun and have a sexy, playful relationship with a man. This

man.

Of al the things she so found so perfect about Gabe, that was one of the

biggest. Though they’d been surrounded by darkness almost since the

moment they’d met, he could, at times, make her feel so carefree. Like she

was just a typical twenty-seven-year-old with no baggage and with nothing but

brightness and al kinds of possibility laid out in front of them. As if they could

just be normal, be at the start of something wonderful.

We are.

She didn’t question the whisper in her mind; she knew it was right. They

were starting something wonderful; she only hoped the evil around them didn’t

bring it crashing down.

“Liv, you take my breath away,” he said, staring down at her, his eyes

narrowed, lips parted as his deep, audible breaths passed over them.

She smiled, more sure of herself as a woman than she’d ever been in her

life. Because she saw how much he wanted her. Hunger, lust, desire—they

dripped from the man.

“Take me to bed, Gabe,” she ordered.

He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

He stood and picked her up by the waist, looping an arm beneath her

bottom. Olivia wrapped her legs around his hips, wanting to cry at how big, hot

and hard he felt.

Al that heat would soon be inside her, driving away any remnants of cold,

making her forget what her body had ever felt like before he’d been a part of

it.

He groaned, as if he could feel the heat of her through his jeans and her

slacks, then bent to kiss her again. That kiss continued, deep and wet, as he

walked al the way upstairs and straight to her bedroom. He didn’t reach for

the light; the moon was ful and shiny, gleaming through the door that led out to

the balcony. And a mil ion stars seemed to have burst through the humid sky to

brighten this one perfect night.

When they reached the bed, he sat on its edge, keeping her on his lap. She

scratched his back lightly, loving the way his tongue moved in and out of her

mouth like he was already making love to her. His kisses both fil ed her up and

made her desperately hungry for more.

Moving his mouth across her cheek, he kissed her, nibbling lightly, right

down to her neck. Olivia liked the direction he was heading and leaned back,

trusting him to hold her, not to let her fal . Funny how much she trusted this man

already. He hadn’t let her fal emotional y throughout the rol er-coaster ordeal

of the past few days, and she knew, down to her soul, that he would move

heaven and earth to make sure nothing ever hurt her physical y.

“Please,” she murmured, arching her back further, needing a more intimate

BOOK: Cold Touch
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