Secrets and Seduction: 5 Romance Novels (40 page)

She narrowed her eyes, and her face reddened. Snatching the sheet, she covered her body with it. “I read people. I happened to pick up that.”

“You took it right out of my mind. God.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t do this.” He had to reflect on what had happened and what it meant. But he couldn’t do that here.

Grabbing his clothes, he hastily threw them on.

“You’re just going to leave?”

“I’m going home to think.” He was babbling.

“I see.”

“I don’t think you do.” He finished dressing, tried to straighten his hair and then turned for the doorway. Hesitating, he wondered if they could talk it over, and maybe she could make him understand. But he’d been soul-bound with her one minute and then she’d read his mind the next. A soul he could share, but his mind … God, he didn’t know.

“I’ll call you.” He headed for the front door and escape.

Reporters mobbed him all the way to the car, but he didn’t say one word. How could he, when those words would be, “Yes, she’s a psychic.” Wouldn’t they love to hear she was also telepathic?

The front door slam as Christian ran from her house was like a death knell to Gabrielle. She didn’t believe he’d be back. He’d been freaked this morning when he found out she was psychic, but he’d needed her to help him investigate. So he’d stayed with her all day. Then, when the fright had subsided, he thought he’d get more sex.

She should have kept her mouth shut. She should have known she’d receive all kinds of images lying on top of him with his body inside hers. All his defenses had been down, so he’d been like an open book. They’d achieved the same oneness they had this morning, and so she couldn’t understand why he’d be thinking of another woman.

But she’d frightened him. Christian’s blue eyes had been huge after she asked about Brittany. He’d fairly flown out of bed he couldn’t get away from her fast enough. He’d taken an emotional beating the past few weeks, losing his beliefs one by one, and he couldn’t handle any more.

Gabrielle hugged herself, feeling chilled. She didn’t want to get out of bed, but Christian leaving meant the front door was unlocked. She wouldn’t feel safe from the press until the locks were set.

As she rose from the bed, something on the carpet caught her eye. It was the condom they’d used. She bent to pick it up, hysterical laughter bubbling up in her throat. She’d shriveled him so fast the condom had fallen off his limp penis. She’d given a new meaning to frigid.

Gabrielle caught back a sob.
Don’t. You knew better than to get involved.
And yet some foolish part of her hoped he’d call her and apologize. How stupid was that?

She knew the truth. It was her heart talking, her heart that had wanted her father to come back home and love her, that had dreamed a college sweetheart would end up her husband, that hoped yin and yang were permanent.

Had she fallen in love with him? She scoffed. What did she know of love? Her grandmother had sternly taught her what it meant to have a gift like hers.

But Christian had taught her something else. He’d taught her to care whether someone else was happy, to yearn to offer comfort and solace, to delight in the smile on their face. She’d seen his pain over the trouble with the people he loved, and she’d felt a burning desire to not see his life destroyed. She wanted to help him, be with him, work side by side with him, and make love with him.

And for only the second time in her life, she thought about giving a man children. That meant passing on her gift to another generation. Another little girl blessed or cursed with the sight. She was sure a child of hers would be clairvoyant.

She’d showered and changed into cotton shorty pajamas when the phone rang. Her heart leaped into her throat pounding madly. He’d called.

Part of her held back from snatching the phone from the cradle. What if it wasn’t him? She concentrated, but couldn’t get a read on who the caller was. Nothing new there — her gift was for something else.

But as she touched the phone, she knew the caller was her boss, Cal Beyers. What did he want? A glance at her watch showed it was nearly seven o’clock, way past quitting time. And he was calling her home phone. There was only one way to find out what he wanted.

“Hello?”

“Gabrielle, it’s Cal.”

“Hi, Cal. You’re calling late.”

“I saw the local news and I’m disturbed.”

Damn it. She sank to the bed and forced an unfelt smile. “Disturbed about what?”

“The news said you might be psychic.”

Gabrielle’s hand tightened on the phone. She took a breath to calm herself before answering. “Did they also report it’s an act I perform at parties?”

“I don’t understand why you were telling fortunes.”

“Look, Cal, I’m entitled to have a second job and to do what I want at that job. With my hair color, I can easily play the part of a gypsy. It’s easy money, it’s fun to do, and I’m not hurting anybody. And it doesn’t interfere with my day job.”

“The speculation about a psychic’s involvement in Ziko’s snooping puts Michigan Casualty in a bad light. I got a call from senior management a little while ago. They’re nervous. Frankly, so am I. We don’t need bad publicity, not on top of the Densmore calamity. I told you to steer clear of Ziko and bring in a ruling in our favor. Do you intend to do that, or should we consider you a liability, in light of tonight’s publicity?”

She ground her back teeth together. She couldn’t lie, nor could she tell the truth. She couldn’t give in, yet she couldn’t lose her job either.

“There’s been a development. Someone tried to kill Christian Ziko twice.”

“What?” Cal nearly shouted the word.

“Once yesterday and once today. He goes to trial in thirty-six hours, but someone wants him silenced, and the investigation stopped. Someone wants to make sure he stays guilty, that he never makes it to trial.” She shut up and waited.

Cal was silent a long time. Finally, he spoke. “I’m going to give you enough rope to hang yourself. You’ve got thirty-six hours. If your report isn’t on my desk at eight
A.M.
the day after tomorrow, you can consider yourself terminated. I don’t want anyone working for me who won’t follow orders.”

Gabrielle swallowed. She hoped her voice didn’t quake when she answered. “I understand.”

“I hope you do. I’d planned to recommend you to senior management to replace me. Instead, I have to note this verbal warning. Good-night.” The line went dead without Cal waiting for an answer.

Gabrielle dropped the phone back onto the base. Her hands trembled wildly. She was going to lose her job. She and Christian had interviewed all the suspects and hadn’t pinpointed anyone for sure. They had suspicions, but no hard facts or evidence. How could she turn in a final report when she didn’t know who was guilty?

It was time to visit her mother, but in her agitated state, she wouldn’t be a calming influence on her parent. Besides, with the press out front, she didn’t want them following her to the nursing home. She picked up the phone again to call the nursing home. This evening was just full of disappointments.

• • •

Christian pulled into his driveway nearly an hour after he left Gabrielle’s house. The freeway had been bumper to bumper all the way home. He’d crawled past two accidents that had traffic tied up in snarls.

His head throbbed, although he was afraid it was from the tension of leaving Gabrielle and gritting his teeth on the freeway. He shouldn’t have left her like that. It was too abrupt. But he’d felt like the hounds of hell were after him, afraid she’d probe his thoughts without even touching him. After all, hadn’t he become one with her?

Unable to turn around on the freeway due to heavy traffic, he’d suffered through alternating attacks of conscience and fear. What would it mean to be with a woman and never have any privacy? She’d know if he looked at a pretty woman, know if someone made a pass at him, know secrets other people told him in confidence. It wasn’t only his secrets she’d be able to pry out of his mind.

He’d never be able to throw a surprise party, buy her a gift she didn’t know about in advance or be able to hide her Christmas presents. How could there be spontaneity if there couldn’t be surprise?

Reporters were parked in the street outside his condo. Damn. They converged on his car as he was getting out. But past them one man drew his attention: Wes Masterson leaned against the side of his condo, his eyes glaring his hatred even from this distance. Christian wasn’t up to this after the scene with Gabrielle and the self-flagellating drive home.

“Mr. Ziko, is it true Gabrielle Healey is a psychic?”

“Why did you hire a psychic?”

“I hear someone tried to kill you today.”

Christian’s head jerked toward the third reporter. “Who told you that?”

“I have sources in the Warren PD. So it’s true?”

“Yes,” Christian admitted. Maybe if they printed the truth, whoever was after him would stop because they were worried about getting caught.

“Who tried to kill you?” another reporter asked.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Where’s Ms. Healey?” someone shouted.

“She’s at home.” There was less than ten feet to his door and Wes Masterson.

Wes looked even angrier than he had last evening. He straightened away from the house as Christian approached. “Don’t think you’re going to get away with killing my sister and the others by hiring someone to make it look like you’re in danger. We all know the truth. You’re guilty. You murdered those people. No one’s trying to kill you, Ziko, at least not actively.”

“I didn’t kill your sister.”

“You sure as hell did and you’re going to pay for it. I’m going to make sure of it.”

Christian felt so tired of fighting everyone. He couldn’t fight people’s thoughts, and they seemed happy to think the very worst about him. He reached past Wes to insert the key in the lock, but Wes grabbed his arm.

“I know what you’re up to, but it’s not going to work. No one’s going to believe a piece of crap like you, a killer.”

Christian shook his arm loose and forced the key into the lock. But he tried one last time with Wes. “I didn’t kill your sister.”

Wes stalked away and Christian closed the door on the shouting reporters. He couldn’t take any more questions when they didn’t want to listen to his answers.

When his cell phone rang he didn’t feel like answering. If it was Gabrielle, what would he say to her? But the caller ID showed Paul’s number, so he flipped open the phone. “Paul, where have you been? I’ve been calling you all day.”

“Is it true? Is she a psychic?”

“Gabrielle?”

“Don’t try to play dumb, little brother. I heard it on the news. Is that how she knew about me and Brittany?”

Christian sighed. “Yes.”

“What the hell are you doing? Do you want people to think you’re crazy? First Crittenden, now you’re using a psychic?”

“I’m not crazy and Gabrielle just happens to be psychic in addition to being an investigator.”

“Sure. She just happens to be psychic. What, are you using her as a human lie detector?” Paul’s voice was sharp with disdain.

“Paul, I’m just trying to find out the truth. I go on trial the day after tomorrow.”

Paul sucked in his breath. “My God, so soon?”

“Yes. If you’d called me back, I would have told you.”

“I’ve been busy. I’ve got six major jobsites going at once and they all need my attention.” Paul’s voice showed the strain.

“What happened to your assistant?” Christian asked.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“What happened to her?”

“I had to lay her off, all right?” Paul said. “Money’s tight and I couldn’t afford to pay her. It’s been a bad year.”

Christian scrubbed his face. “Jesus, Paul. You didn’t tell me.”

“I don’t tell you my problems, Kit. I take care of you, not the other way around.”

Christian stood straighter. “Maybe it’s time that changed. I’m a grown man now.”

“You’re my baby brother. You’re always going to be my responsibility.”

Christian clenched his fist in frustration. He had to show Paul he didn’t need looking after any more. “Paul, we talked to Jerry Flanders at Republic Steel today. He said you changed the order to twenty-five-foot girders for the Densmore.”

“I couldn’t get the thirty footers. I bought what I could afford. It happens all the time.”

“But the drawing doesn’t work with the shorter length. Who’d you ask to change the drawing?”

“Roger, of course.”

That jived with what Roger had said. Another dead end. “Bro, we need another sample of your handwriting. Can you come over now?”

“No, I’ve got a meeting in a few minutes about problems at one of my sites. I don’t know how long it will last.”

“How about first thing tomorrow?”

“Sure. I don’t know where I’ll need to go first, but I’ll call you and let you know where to meet me.”

“Okay.”

“But don’t bring that psychic,” Paul said. “I don’t have much that’s private from you, but I’d prefer she not know everything about me and tell you.”

Christian knew how Paul felt. “I understand.”

“I don’t know how you’ve stood being around her these past few days.”

“I didn’t know.”

“She kept that on a need-to-know basis?”

Now Paul wanted Christian to spill Gabrielle’s secrets. Christian was just as uncomfortable doing that as he’d been knowing Gabrielle was reading him. “It’s complicated.”

“I’ll bet. Does she know about Crittenden?”

Christian sighed. “Yeah.”

“Kit, you know she’ll put it in her report and make you look guilty.”

He’d wondered if she considered that ‘off the record’ because they’d slept together. Or was everything he did and said still part of the investigation? No, Gabrielle wouldn’t do that. But she’d kept a major investigative tool secret from him. Maybe she was capable of that.

“I don’t think she would.”

“Kit, trust me on this. You’re naïve about people. If it comes to a choice between spilling your secrets or her job, she’s going to choose the job. I’m the only one you can trust completely. Listen to me.”

A lifetime of listening to his brother’s good advice kicked in. Paul had never steered him wrong before. But Paul hadn’t slept with Gabrielle, hadn’t fused himself to her soul. However, Christian couldn’t tell his brother that because Paul would think Christian had been swayed by sex. He wouldn’t understand.