Elite Metal-ARE-epub (50 page)

He closed the gap, and she held the line. Fleeing wasn’t in her nature. “Sounds like you’ve been thinking about it a lot.”

Carefully, he asked, “Haven’t you?”

“Nope.”
Liar.
“I tend to live in the moment. It was a nice moment. Moment’s over.”

“Damn.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Harsh.” Despite the declaration, fresh interest seemed to be reflected in his gaze. With her back to the restaurant, she had a good view of his face under the parking lot floodlights, even though they were on the edge of the lot and far from the building itself.

“You can take it,” she told him, as much to confirm her supposition as to tease him.

“Yes,” he agreed. “I can.” Then he added, “I’m glad you took me up on my invitation.”

“How do you know I did?”

“Because you’re here with me.” As though stating the obvious weren’t enough, he added. “You kissed me.”

“You started it,” had to be the worst line she’d ever said out loud. Not to mention she couldn’t recall who reached for who. Shaking her head, she scanned the area around them. Better to be aware, since she’d been focused wholly on him since his arrival and entire damn division could have moved in while she got all hot and bothered.

“Have dinner with me, Copper.”

“No.” Automatic. Kneejerk. A restaurant had too many accesses and vantage points, not to mention surveillance. Thankfully, they’d fucked in a camera-free room at the college. The last thing she needed was to ask Ant to scrub an inopportune sex tape off the Internet. Fuck up once, shame on her. Fuck up twice, well—most people didn’t get that opportunity.

“No to dinner? Or just no to dinner here?”

The insight said a lot for his powers of observation. Uneasiness slid through her. Gabriel’s awareness could be another strike against him. “Why do you want to have dinner?”

“Because I want to spend time with you.” Direct, no hesitation, no pause. “I also want you naked and beneath me again. Or on top, if you prefer, or on your hands and knees. I’m not picky.”

Desire prickled her reserve. How the hell she could go hot and tight at the same time her body softened? It made no damn sense. Like a magician, his words conjured images of them tangling together and who needed words for that?

“Naked’s not happening in the restaurant.” Which was as far from no as she could get.

“True. Then where do you want to get naked?”

Anywhere.
“I have to go.” Running? Was she seriously running? Her feet rooted to the ground.

“Don’t.” He didn’t need to stop her, since she wasn’t moving. “I have a confession.”

Her racing pulse quieted, and the desire clouding her brain cleared. Instinct, self-preservation, and the very violent need to punish the people who’d taken Brad away from her brought the clarity she needed. “What’s that?”

“I know you cloned my phone today,” he said, confirming her earlier concern. “I also know you’re not who you pretend to be.”

She wasn’t pretending anything at the moment. If he was guilty, she’d take him out.
No, I have to take him to Chrome. Orders are orders.
Taller than her, and with a distinctive amount of muscle mass, he’d go down if she wanted to take him. His weight was on his right leg. If she swept it…

“Who says I’m pretending to be anything?” His longer reach meant she needed to go closer quarters. A throat punch and a second to his groin, and he’d go down.

A shrug, then a sigh. “I also know you were in Miami…”

Warning bells went off in her head. If she got him down, she could get him in a choke hold and put him out.

“…and Nigeria...”

One of those things wasn’t like the other.

“…I’ve been looking for you for two years.”

Abort.
Nigeria had nothing to do with Red Wolf. The consul there had been making promises to some of the local leaders in exchange for investment opportunities. The diplomat’s actions had compromised other ops, and they’d paid him a courtesy call to clean up his act. They’d let him know that if a second visit was required, he’d never see them coming. Calculating the risk, she kept her body language loose and her position ready. “Two years is a long time. You must not be good at looking.”

His laughter burst the tension, and he inclined his head. “I’m damned good at looking. I’ve never not tracked a lead down. You’re better at hiding than anyone I’ve ever known.”

Since she hadn’t been
hiding
back then, simply doing her job, she ignored the backhanded compliment.

“So the question is, gorgeous, why did you show up in my classroom?”

“I was thinking about going back to school.” The lie flowed smoothly. He’d noticed a lot, but either he was damn good at his role or he had no skin in their game.
Which is it?

“No, you’re not.” He shook his head. “Whatever it is, you don’t plan on telling me. I hope fucking me wasn’t part of the play. If it was well, at least I had a smile on my face.” Then all the fun drained from his expression, and his gaze locked on hers. “Are you here to kill me, Copper?”

Chapter Four

From the moment his former section chief called, Gabriel had wanted to hang the phone up and pretend his life at the CIA had never happened. In his ideal world, he was never a field agent or analyst. He’d never tracked arms shipments, pinpointed terrorist cell leadership for assassination, and his reports had never been used to send others to their deaths.

No, in his ideal world, he’d be the professor in his lecture hall, exactly as he was when Copper walked through the door. He’d be free to pursue her full tilt and peel back the prickly layers of defense from the goddess so he could claim her. Hell, even if he turned out to be her target—
what?
The alert on his phone about the download had flashed at him like a taunt after she’d disappeared. One moment she’d been in his arms, the next she’d dragged on her clothes. He’d asked her out, but she left and hadn’t returned.

Tracing the cell phone which copied his had been child’s play. When she answered his call, he’d planned on hanging up and tracking the phone itself. Instead, what had he done? Asked her out again.

Pathetic.

But she showed at the restaurant, even if her body language and position said observation, not engagement.

“So?” he asked when she said nothing immediately. Her expression was almost impossible to read. A mask settled over her face, hiding her emotions from him. Emotions he knew she felt, because no one could manufacture the flash-fire passion she erupted with when he kissed her. “Are you here to kill me?”

Was he the target? His section chief said they’d had a lot of chatter recently. Chatter, which suggested an old case file of his had gone active. The Jennings file. The leads there had been cold since the man died. Now here she was, the same woman he’d seen in Jennings’ office.

“No.” The mask slipped, a hint of confusion drawing her brows together before she licked her lips. The flash of pink tongue threatened his restraint. From the moment he’d put his hands on her again, all he could think about was stripping her naked and fucking her right there.

In a parking lot.

Some of his strengths in analysis were his shrewd mind and his ability to divorce fact from emotion. None of those strengths seemed to matter where she was concerned.

“You sound certain.” Not remotely shocked by his question, though. Another nail in the coffin of normal. A woman he met in the civilian world would have been rightfully upset or horrified by his question. They would have come up with a dozen stories—or better, retreated from him as though he were some kind of madman.

Copper? No, she didn’t seem upset or shocked. If anything, she appeared intrigued. “I am certain.”

“Why are you still here?” If they weren’t going to have dinner, and she’d already turned down the public bang—since when did he go for sex in public, anyway?
With her, I’d have sex anywhere.
His cock ached as though reminding him of their predicament.

“I’m trying to answer that question myself.” The throaty rawness beneath her words dragged at him, pulling him to her. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit her confession pleased him.

“I’m not alone drowning in this sea of lust?” Pushing her might be a mistake and could blow up in his face, but he wanted to push her. Wanted to dig behind the shield she’d barricaded herself behind. He wanted
in.

“Not drowning.” A hint of a smirk, and her chin raised. Not much of a tell, but while she might be cornered, he didn’t think she’d ever let anyone see how cornered she truly felt. “I know how to swim.”

“All injuries to my ego aside,” he said, and her half-snort of laughter rewarded him. “You’re here. I’m here. Whatever the hell is going on between us is addictive as hell.”

“Addictions are bad for you.” She relaxed, some of the stiffness easing from her shoulders. Instead of her arms loose and her fingers half curled into fists, she folded her arms. The faint cant to her head suggested curiosity. “Addicts make poor decisions because all they see is the next fix.”

Appreciating the distinction, he nodded. “Considering all I am thinking about is how to get you naked again, I can sympathize.” Her response? She rolled her eyes. The banal action gave him his first glimpse beyond the icy façade, and he grinned. “Want a suggestion?”

The wariness returned. He’d once had an alley cat he used to feed that did the exact same thing. The creature would take the food but wouldn’t come near him. Over the course of several months, he even managed to lure the beast in a window out of the bad weather to eat, but the cat never wanted to be touched. One day, the cat fell in his window, beaten to hell and missing half an ear. He’d risked the scratches to get it to the vet. The cat survived, still didn’t let him pet him, but he slept in Gabriel’s apartment and, when Gabriel left DC, the cat had come with him.

Copper was like that cat—wary and defensive against the world. Trusting his instincts, and not remotely interested in spending months trying to get closer if she would bolt the moment he did, he considered his options.

“What suggestion?” Guarded. So damn guarded.

“Come have coffee with me. We’ll stay public. No sex. Coffee and conversation.” When her eyes narrowed, he said, “Or you can come back to my place, and we can be in private. Still have coffee and conversation, but no sex unless you want to pin me to a wall again.”

The corners of her mouth twitched. What the hell did a person go through to become that controlled?

“I don’t care which. Well, I care—but more than that, I want the chance. Have coffee with me, Copper.” He still didn’t think it was her name, though it definitely suited her. He had her fingerprints, lifted from the door in the lecture hall after she’d pulled her disappearing act. If he ran them…he might have to act on anything he discovered. Willful ignorance benefited him, especially when his instincts said to protect her.
Fucking instincts.

“You’re insane.” Not a refusal. “You just asked me if I was here to kill you, and now you want me to go out for coffee.”

“Or in for coffee,” he reminded her of his secondary offer. “You’re not here to kill me. So what’s the harm?”

“It’s a bad idea.” Still, not an outright rejection of his offer.

“Maybe,” he agreed. It could be a horrible idea. His section chief wanted him to come in, to let the agency protect him while they sorted out the intel. The last place he wanted to be was locked away in a cage, even if it came with a thousand thread count sheets and room service. Maybe he was like his cat, too. “We won’t know till we try it. I’m a big boy, and I know how to swim, too.”

“I thought you were drowning.” Another faint hint of a smile, then her eyebrows lifted. “Or was that just a line to see if I’d go down on your cock?”

His dick protested the constriction of his slacks. The image of thrusting into her mouth sent a bolt of lust to his balls. She’d make a eunuch out of him at this rate. They were too fucking tight for this kind of play. “I won’t say no, but I offered coffee.”

Lips pursed, she blew out a breath. “You’re weird.”

Before he could respond to her taunt, her cell phone rang. The light notes jingled once. Twice. When she made no move to answer it, he raised his brows. “Do you need to take that call?”

“Call?” She frowned. “Oh.” Glaring, she dug her phone out of her back pocket and stared at it. “Fuck. Don’t say a word.” 

Too curious to argue, he mimed zipping his lips as she answered.

“Copper.” The single identifier, no actual greeting or pleasantry.
Military?
“Yes.” Her gaze cut to him briefly. Making no pretense of ignoring her, he studied the tiny lines tightening at the corners of her eyes. She angled from him, pacing three steps away, so she faced the parking lot.

Without a doubt, she remained aware of him, though she scanned the lot, the restaurant, then the area behind them with each pass. Nothing escaped her gaze.
Who are you, Copper?

“Sir?” She grimaced and shot a sidelong look in his direction. “No. Sir.”

Folding his arms, he raised his eyebrows, but she simply shook her head.

“I’ll take care of it.” Her tone betrayed no emotion, but her knuckles whitened.

Take care of it? Or take care of him? She hadn’t been armed earlier, but the loose shirt she wore over the jeans told him she could definitely be packing this evening. The call ended, and she pivoted to face him.

“So,” he kept his tone neutral and his posture relaxed. He had weight on her, but she’d spun him into the wall with precision and force. The careful control she exhibited right now screamed training. The more layers he peeled back, the more he wanted.
Never thought of myself as a masochist.
“What’s the verdict?”

“I have to go.” She was already walking away.

Jogging he caught her and took her arm. The speed with which she pulled away, dropped and swept his legs almost caught him off guard. Almost. Too much training went into the provocative swing of her hips. He hooked his arm around her even as she took out his legs. He went down, but he twisted to take the brunt of her fall. With an elbow jab to his midsection, she broke his hold and rolled to her feet. Not willing to let her go that quickly, he caught her ankle and jerked.