Page 18 of Rock Hard


  Chest hurting from the shallowness of her breaths and her glasses fogging up, she swallowed. "I guess you'll have to wait and see."

  He groaned and fed her the rest of the fruit. "You really don't mind going in to work?"

  "No--if you take this bracelet off."

  Forty-five minutes later, she was at her desk printing out the documents he needed, and the bracelet was still on her wrist. Gabriel Bishop, as she'd already learned, was one stubborn male. And he'd decided the ridiculously expensive, exquisitely beautiful, one-of-a-kind bracelet was hers. Aggravated as she was, she couldn't help the melting in her bones.

  He'd had it for months, she thought again, her eyes lingering on the pretty, delicate lines of it. She'd sighed over it in the shop, having no intention of recommending it to Gabriel so he could give it to his "girlfriend." When he'd caught her sneaking that photo of it and bought it, she'd been so frustrated. And jealous. She could admit that now. She'd been jealous he was giving the bracelet she loved to another woman.

  Except the whole time, it had been for her.

  Months.

  Touching the tiny flowers with possessive fingers, she jerked them back when she heard Gabriel coming out of his office. "Papers ready, Charlotte?" he asked a little absently, his attention on the report in his hand.

  "Yes," she said, her pulse kicking at the sight of him, so big and smart and delicious. "Here you go."

  "Thanks." He took them, disappeared, saying, "Can you dig up the previous proposal for me? I want to double-check something."

  "I'll have it to you in a minute." She turned to her computer, discovered that for some reason the file hadn't been input. "I'm going to have to go down to the records room," she said, poking her head into his office.

  Gabriel looked up, frowned. "I'll come with you."

  Stomach dropping, she gripped the edge of the doorjamb. "It's only one floor down. I'll be fine."

  He was already walking toward her. "Charlotte, I know you can do it. I'm also feeling very protective today." An edge in his voice. "So just let me come with you."

  Shaken by the blunt words, she spread her hands on his chest. She'd been so focused on how he was treating her that she hadn't stopped to consider how she should treat him. He was a protective, possessive kind of a man, and she'd laid a lot on him today. "Maybe I should give you a kiss," she said, finding the courage because he needed her to find it. "Come here."

  He bent his head. Cupping his cheek, she pressed her lips to his, sipped gently. She was viscerally aware of the strength and the power of him, but she was also stunned to realize he'd given her control. Though his hands had come to rest on her hips, he didn't pull, didn't force, just stood there and allowed her to taste him.

  His breath, however, turned uneven as the seconds passed. Charlotte thought about stopping but couldn't find any reason to do so. He smelled so good, tasted so good, his warmth surrounding her and making her feel safe and soft inside. As if her blood was molten honey.

  Gabriel moved his head, fitting their lips together more firmly. Charlotte moved with him, her hand sliding from his cheek to the side of his neck. The tendons flexed under her touch, the thickness of his neck making her want to kiss every warm inch. Nipples so tight they almost hurt, she went to press up to him, rub herself against the heated strength of his body in an effort to ease the ache.

  And the fear, it licked at her.

  Breaking the kiss on a choking wave of frustration before the panic attack could hit, she went down flat on her feet.

  Gabriel, his lips wet and his pupils dilated, said, "I like the way you make me feel better."

  The cold metal hand around her chest stopped squeezing. Because Gabriel seemed not to mind that he had to go slow. If he wasn't giving up, she definitely wouldn't.

  It took them three hours to get the work completed. Gabriel received a call partway through that led to a short, clipped conversation, but when she asked if everything was all right, he'd said, "Nothing to worry about."

  From the tension in his jaw and shoulders, she knew that wasn't true. She intended to bring it up again when they left the office, but he was back in a good mood, so she let it slide. Still, part of her continued to worry at the question, especially given the number of calls he'd received recently from an older-sounding man with a smoker's voice. Those calls inevitably left him with shadows in his eyes.

  "Gabriel?" she said as they drove out of the garage.

  "Hmm?" A deep smile. "Mission Bay for a late lunch?"

  Utterly undone by that smile and uncertain about their fledgling relationship, she just nodded.

  Driving to the bustling group of restaurants and cafes by the sea, the water glittering under the sun and kayakers out in force in their colored craft, they decided to eat at a great Mexican cafe Charlotte had discovered with Molly.

  Gabriel ordered what Charlotte recommended, smiling inwardly every time she touched the bracelet. She didn't seem to realize how she was petting it, and he wasn't going to point it out when her delight gave him such pleasure.

  He'd been dreaming of putting that bracelet on her wrist since the day he'd bought it. She'd been so adorably bad-tempered that day, pointing him in the direction of any piece of jewelry she thought would satisfy him. But he'd been determined--and at that time, he hadn't realized the depth of the scars she bore, had expected to be able to give her the bracelet in the next few weeks.

  Going slow didn't come naturally to him, but Charlotte was worth it. And that kiss. Fuck. He could've stood there forever, letting her taste him with a soft, sexy hunger that had enslaved him. He'd never been a man who enjoyed giving anyone control, but he could definitely get on board with allowing Ms. Baird to have her way with him.

  "You have any plans for the rest of the afternoon?" he asked after lunch, the two of them walking back to the car along the pathway that edged the beach, sand gritty under their shoes.

  "I was going to finish reading a novel," she said. "My boss makes me work so late that I haven't had time."

  "Cute." He tapped her butt, caught the tug of her lips. "Bring the book, read it at my place. You can sit in the sun on the balcony." He liked having her to himself, where he could coax her into kisses and other delicious, naughty acts. A kiss today, nakedness tomorrow--Gabriel liked to think positive and plan ahead.

  But she shook her head, her teeth sinking into her lower lip. "Do you want to come to my place instead?"

  If she hadn't told him what she had this morning, he might not have understood the depth of both her courage and the trust she was offering him. "Yeah," he said, his chest aching with the force of his emotions.

  Smile tremulous, beautiful, she said, "Do you like period dramas?"

  He groaned. "Yes, of course. I love them."

  She laughed at his obvious lie, and it was sunshine falling like rain over him. "I'm joking. I think they're replaying the South Africa-Wales game later today. We could watch that."

  "Sounds good."

  24

  Charlie-mouse vs T-Rex: Round 7489

  Charlotte's heart was in her throat by the time Gabriel parked his SUV in the garage she didn't really use except for storing a few things. Getting out the instant they were inside, she pressed the remote to lower the garage door, then led the way to the door into the house. This would be the first time since the attack that she'd had anyone but Molly in the house for an extended period. Even when she'd had the plumber come in last year, she'd asked her best friend to hang out at her place.

  Her fingers shook on the keys, the metal jangling.

  Squeezing her hip, Gabriel said, "Want me to say something dirty and inappropriate to get your mind off it?"

  A giggle escaped her. "Hush." But his teasing did help, and she got the key in.

  Gabriel hung back while she put in her alarm code, and she fell a little bit deeper for him that he'd done that, that he'd thought about what it meant to her. "Come in," she said and, kicking off her shoes, led him to the living room. Only then did
she realize a logistical problem. "My sofa is too small." It'd make it impossible for him to sprawl with his legs up.

  "I'll sit on the floor," he said easily. "Put my back against the sofa." Heading over, he grabbed the remote. "Let me check when the game's on."

  Leaving him to it, she forced herself to go into her bedroom. It was hard to do that knowing someone else was in the house, but she kept reminding herself that it wasn't someone. It was Gabriel. Big, gorgeous Gabriel who hadn't consciously done a single thing to make her afraid. Hanging up her handbag behind the bedroom door, she put her phone into a pocket of her dress.

  When she walked out, it was to find him seated on the floor, his arm on the sofa seat as he flicked through the channels. "Game's on in an hour," he said, looking over. "Aw, I'm so disappointed."

  Her heart dipped. "What? Why?"

  "I was hoping you went to slip into something more comfortable."

  Wrinkling her nose at him, she said, "Do you find flannel pants sexy?"

  His grin creased his cheeks. "Oh yeah. Especially if that's all you're thinking of wearing."

  She blushed, threw a cushion at his head. Catching it, he laughed and stayed in place while she went into the kitchen to see what she had that she could put together for dinner later on. Though they'd spent most of the day together already, she couldn't wait for more.

  "Ms. Baird, I'm getting lonely."

  Walking back into the living area, she came down to the floor and tucked herself against him. That was how they stayed for a long time, his fingers playing desultorily over her shoulder and his body sexy and warm against her own. He teased more than one long, wet, luscious kiss out of her but didn't push for anything further, and when he said good night and left her, it was after another kiss that had her questioning her sanity in allowing him to leave.

  It was the best day of her life.

  Charlotte floated into the office the next day, giddily eager to see Gabriel. He was just...

  She laughed at herself, knowing she was acting like a love-struck teenager, something she'd never been at that age. It hadn't just been her shyness that had kept her from being carefree--her mom's fight with cancer had forever changed Charlotte's priorities.

  Putting on the coffee in the break room since she was the first one in, she hoped her mom could see her now, see her happiness. They'd been so close, Charlotte often doing her homework sitting in her mother's treatment room during Pippa Baird's chemotherapy sessions. Her mother had also encouraged her and Molly's friendship with fierce maternal love.

  "I won't let this disease steal your chance to live your life, Charlotte. To make friends and have fun."

  Pippa Baird had always had so much love and generosity in her heart, even during the final stages of her disease when she'd been in such terrible pain. Charlotte knew her mother had fought to stay alive that last year only for Charlotte and her father. Pippa had been the center of their small family, the glue that held them all together.

  But her father, he'd been so brave too. Three days before her mother passed away, Charlotte had accidentally witnessed a moment of heartbreaking tenderness between her parents. Her father had been holding her fragile mother in his arms, tears wet on his face. Then he'd kissed her on the forehead and said, "It's okay, Pip. You can go. We'll be all right."

  Her mother had wrapped her arms around his neck, whispered, "I don't want to go."

  Unable to bear any more, Charlotte had left them and walked outside to sit on the old tire swing in the garden, crying where it wouldn't hurt either one of them. Now though, she smiled through the ache of old grief--because she knew her parents would've loved Gabriel. Her dad would've been in raptures at having another rugby fan in the family, never mind the fact that it was the Bishop, and her mom would've loved him for how he treated Charlotte.

  Triiiiiing!

  Almost spilling the coffee she'd been about to pour, Charlotte returned the carafe to the stand and dug out her cell phone. The number was unfamiliar but local. "Hello," she said, having trained herself never to answer a personal call with her name.

  "Charlotte?"

  Her knees trembled. Stumbling to a seat at the break room table, she tried to suck in air. "Detective Lee." She'd never forget that voice. Detective Mei Lee's was the first one she'd heard after the hours of terror, the other woman's hands gentle and kind as she released Charlotte from her bonds while telling her she was safe and that Richard was in custody.

  A patrol officer then, Mei Lee was now an experienced homicide detective who'd made sure Charlotte was kept updated on Richard's parole hearings. "Is it time for another hearing?" she asked, having testified at two so far.

  "No." A pause that made the hairs rise on the back of Charlotte's neck. "Charlotte, I'm sorry to tell you this, but Richard is being released next Monday. I'd have given you more of a warning, but there was a screwup and I only just got the report."

  Her heart was ice. "How can they let him go? He's got time left to serve."

  "According to sentencing guidelines, he's served the maximum time possible under his sentence." Detective Lee's voice was clipped as she added, "You know what I think of the judge who sentenced him."

  That judge had given a lot of weight to Richard's otherwise clean record, and "bright future." One mistake, the judge had said, terrible as it was, shouldn't condemn this young man for life. Other mitigating factors are his early guilty plea and his unhidden remorse.

  Both of the latter, Charlotte had thought at the time, had been carefully calculated moves to gain the court's sympathy. It had worked, Richard sentenced at the lowest end of the scale for the level and brutality of his offense.

  Charlotte's hand shook, her pulse a sickening rattle. "Do you think I'm safe?" Richard had never sent Charlotte any threatening messages or letters, but she couldn't forget the way he'd looked at her the day he'd been led away by the bailiff. He'd turned, pinned her with the frozen blue of his eyes, and smiled.

  That smile had haunted her nightmares for years. It said he was going to come back, and when he did, he'd finish what he'd started. But that had been five years ago. Maybe he'd forgotten her.

  "No, you're not safe." Detective Lee's words punched all the air out of her. "A man with Richard Wilson's tendencies doesn't turn over a new leaf. He's still a good-looking psychopath used to manipulating people, and you beat him. He won't have forgotten that."

  No, Charlotte agreed silently, he wouldn't have. As with the warning he'd received from the police, he'd have spent his time in jail stewing and obsessing and planning exactly how he'd make her pay for daring to put him, the golden boy, in prison. "Do you have any advice?" she asked, telling herself she was stronger now, could deal with this.

  But terror, it had a clawed grip on her throat.

  "If you're living alone, stop," the detective said. "You should also get a monitored alarm system if you haven't already. I'll have a patrol car do more regular drive-bys in your neighborhood as a deterrent, but you know he's intelligent and cunning. I'm guessing he won't target you at home, but somewhere else where you feel safe."

  Charlotte nodded, forgetting the other woman couldn't see her, her mind beginning to numb over despite her admonitions to the contrary.

  "I'll keep an eye on him as far as possible," Mei Lee said, "but he'll be a free man once he's out, and his lawyer's made it clear that any extra police attention will be taken as harassment. If I'm not careful, he could stop me from going within a hundred feet of him."

  "Charlotte?"

  Looking up at Gabriel's voice, Charlotte tried to say something, but her voice stuck in her throat as everything hit her in an avalanche. Richard was going free and there was a very high chance he would come after her. This time he wouldn't leave her alive to testify.

  Expression dark, Gabriel grabbed the phone. "Who is this?"

  He crouched down beside her as he listened, his hand on her icy one and his eyes intense. "Gabriel Bishop." Another pause after he identified himself. "Yes." This pause was
longer. "I'll take care of it." An alert, focused silence, then, "You'll notify us if your patrol guys pick up anything?" Ten seconds, maybe twenty, Charlotte couldn't quite tell, her mind still not functioning right, before he said, "Yes. No, I'll make sure of it."

  Charlotte stared at Gabriel as he hung up after giving Detective Lee his own contact numbers. "Can I have my phone?" It seemed very important that she have it, that it be in her hand.

  Placing the phone on Charlotte's palm, Gabriel curled her fingers over it.

  "Thank you." She held it like a talisman that could ward off evil. "Did Detective Lee tell you?"

  "Yes." Gabriel stood. "Come on. We're going for a walk."

  "You can't. You have the Henderson conference call in"--she glanced at her watch--"fifteen minutes."

  "It'll keep." His phone already in hand, he made a quick call and postponed the meeting. "Charlotte." Gabriel frowned when she didn't respond. Changing tack, he hardened his tone. "Ms. Baird."

  A stiffening of her shoulders, her lashes flicking up. "I'm fine. I don't need to go for a walk."

  "I need to go for a walk." He raised an eyebrow when she still didn't budge. "There are going to be more people heading to the break room very soon."

  That seemed to get through. Slipping her phone into a pocket of the tailored black trench coat that she still wore over an oat-colored linen shift, she came with him. He wanted to take her hand, but a number of other staff members had arrived on the floor and he knew the action would make Charlotte even more uncomfortable when she was already shaken. The woman who'd kissed him good-bye with a smile, who'd cuddled so sweetly next to him for hours, had been buried under shock.

  Gabriel wasn't about to allow that to stand.

  Taking the elevator to the ground floor, he led her out and toward the waterfront. The sidewalk was active with those who worked in the city, but not yet thronged with shoppers. Except for the coffee shops and bakeries, the stores wouldn't open till nine, so it was easy enough to stride down toward the water.