Tempted by Fate (10 page)

Her husband, Maximillian Prescott, was actually a solid guy. He seemed stable and clearly worshiped the ground Carrie walked on. Ramirez had to like anyone who took care of his own as carefully as Prescott did. “My caseload has been heavy.”

Carrie got serious, putting a hand on his arm. “Are you okay? It’s not getting to you, is it? You know, if you need a vacation, Max has a great house in Santa Monica. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind it if you used it. Actually, he has houses all over the world. Pick one. I’ll have Max loan you his plane, too.”

Houses all over the world. A private plane. Ramirez shook his head. “Your reality is so skewed.”

“I know.” She laughed. “Isn’t it great?”

He felt the air shift behind him. He turned right as Gabrielle ducked under the bar top.

She had her hands full of empty bottles, but that didn’t stop her from glaring at him. “Aren’t you supposed to hang out in donut shops?”

“Why, when you have such a sweet disposition?” he asked blandly.

Carrie snorted.

Gabrielle flashed a glare at her friend and then dumped all the bottles into a bin. Without a word, she pulled a bottle of Patrón from the top shelf and poured him a shot. She shoved it across the bar at him and, with another evil look, went to engage another customer in conversation.

Ramirez picked up his shot glass. “She grows more charming each time I see her.”

“Can you blame her? You’re out to lynch her brother.” Carrie clinked her glass to his. “They may have World War Two–type history between them, and she says he deserves what he gets, but deep down she cares. Gabe is very sensitive on the inside.”

He raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

“She is.” Carrie grinned. “I don’t get why you guys hate each other so much. You’re like oil and water. And to think, at one time, I thought you were interested in her.”

His moral code forbade him from being interested in a woman who was on the other side of the law, and he was fairly certain Gabrielle Sansouci Chin crossed the line whenever it suited her. So did
Sophie Mitchell—
he had no doubt about that, either.

His frown deepened. Watching her take out that man had been exciting. She was so tough, and then she’d surrendered to him so sweetly. So passionately.

He could still taste her on his lips.

He shook his head and shot back the rest of his tequila.

“Hmm.” Carrie leaned back and looked at him speculatively. “Do I detect woman issues?”

He pushed the glass away from him. “You should leave the detecting to the professionals.”

“So are you going to tell me why you called me in the middle of the night?”

“How did your professor actually die?”

She froze, her glass raised halfway to her lips. After a moment, she set it down with a
thunk.
“Not this again.”

“Wait.” He held her arm when she started to retract from him.

“No.” She tugged away from him. “If I knew you were going to beat this dead horse, I wouldn’t have agreed to meet with you.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Well, then, what
do
you mean?”

His jaw clenched tight. Everything in him fought saying the words, but it had to be done. “Have you noticed that there’s something going on?”

Carrie rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to be more specific than that.”

“Strange things.” He tugged at his collar. “Unexplainable things.”

She stilled. “What sort of unexplainable things?”

“The kind where a person’s blood freezes in her body.” He looked her in the eye. “The kind where a tree limb whips down and knocks a man out.”

“What tree? There was no tree with Leonora. Max—” She snapped her mouth shut.

Ramirez studied her closely. “Max what?”

“Nothing. Don’t expect me to betray my husband’s confidence.”

Gabrielle chose that moment to return. “Everything okay here?” she asked, looking at her friend.

Carrie nodded, smiling weakly. “We’re fine. Rick might need another drink, though.”

Gabrielle’s expression turned on him, her hostility more than obvious. “Do you? It’s last call.”

“No.”

She pointed at Carrie. “Refill?”

“No thanks.” She patted Gabrielle’s hand.

That seemed to reassure the woman somewhat, but it didn’t stop her from pointing her finger at him and
saying, “I’m watching you. You do something to upset her and you’re toast.”

They both watched Gabrielle slip under the bar again and begin to clean up. Ramirez glanced at his watch. So much had happened, it seemed like it should have been later than it was.

“Sorry about Gabe. Ever since I told her I was knocked up, she’s been superprotective.” Carrie shook her head. “Between her and Max, I’m going insane. Max actually insisted on bathing me the other day.”

Ramirez cocked an eyebrow. “Did he?”

Her face flushed red, and she slapped his arm. “Stop.”

“You’re the one who said it.”

“I just meant he’s being overly protective.”

“Understandable. I’d do the same.” Not that he’d ever believe he’d have kids—not when he couldn’t even sustain a relationship. Ramirez glanced at her stomach, trying to picture himself in Prescott’s shoes. Yes, he’d be every bit as protective, offering to wash her long, pale hair.

He frowned. Where the hell did that thought come from?

“Uh-oh. You’re thinking about her again.”

“Have you become a mind reader since you’ve gotten pregnant?”

“Nah, I’m just attuned.” She looked sideways at him. “So what’s her name?”

“I don’t know.” He picked up his shot glass, forgetting it was empty, and set it back down in disgust.

Carrie wrinkled her nose. “You don’t know? You haven’t talked to her?”

“I have.”

“Unless you want to be here all night, you better just tell me everything. And I don’t think you want to be up all night. You look tired.”

He gave her a flat look. “Is that a subtle way of saying I look like shit?”

“Pretty much.” She propped her elbow on the counter and rested her chin in her hand. “I’m waiting.”

What did he say about her? He searched for the right words. He surprised himself by saying, “She’s like a lone wolf.”

Carrie nodded. “Takes one to know one.”

“What does that mean?”

“You aren’t exactly a social creature. Don’t look at me like that. You know you’re a loner. When was the last time you went out?”

“Where?”

“See.” She rolled her eyes. “You never go out, much less socialize. I don’t even know if you have friends.”

Other than the guys on the force, he didn’t, but he wasn’t about to admit that to her.

“How long has it been since you’ve gone on a date?” she asked.

He blinked. “A date?”

“Where you partake in refreshments, discuss topical matters, and exchange bodily fluids. Not necessarily in that order.”

He’d had a short affair with that attractive prosecutor a year ago. She’d been going through a divorce and he’d been happy to be her rebound fling. He hadn’t been near anyone’s body fluids since… well, not until tonight. “My caseload has been busy.”

“Uh-huh.” She rolled her eyes. “So you’re saying if a
woman threw herself at you, you’d be too busy to get it on with her?”

He pictured the way
Sophie
—he really hated that name—pulled him to her. The way she kissed him, with cold precision. He could still feel her shock the moment the calculation gave way to desire—honest desire. He could still feel
his
shock at the satisfaction he felt getting past her barriers to the real woman below.

That real woman intrigued him, more than he was comfortable with.

“
Your loner threw herself at you?
” Carrie squeaked a little too loudly.

He was conscious of other people’s gazes on them, especially Gabrielle’s. He frowned. “You find it hard to believe a woman would want me?”

“Heck, no.” Her curls bounced around her face as she vehemently shook her head. “You’re hot. Totally hot. I can’t think of a woman who wouldn’t want you. Except Gabe, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Forget other women. I want to know about your loner.” She leaned in, grabbing his lapel and tugging him closer. “What did she do?”

She’d turned his world upside down with the mere touch of her soft lips. “She lied to me.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” Carrie’s round eyes filled his vision. “Did you kiss her?”

“No.” Not a lie—
Sophie
had kissed him.

Carrie wilted. “Aw, man. I was hoping for some juicy details.”

“Aren’t you a newlywed? Don’t you have juicy details of your own?”

“I do, but it’s not as titillating as other people’s juicy details.” She shook off her disappointment. “So what’s she like?”

Tall. Sassy. Sexy. Really sexy. “I can’t tell.”

“
You
can’t tell?” She pointed a finger at him. “The cop who’s trained to evaluate people? The master of ferreting out people’s dark sides?”

He shot his so-called friend a sharp look. “She’s not who she says she is.”

“Who is she?”

“I don’t know.” He held the glass in his hands, turning it around and watching the light reflect off it.

“And that bothers you, because you’re all about truth.” Carrie nodded. “You really don’t know her name?”

“She said it was Sophie Mitchell.”

“And you don’t believe her.” Carrie’s forehead furrowed. “But you want her.”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t
not
say it, either. I’m pregnant, not blind. If the tension in your body is any indication, you want her with the intensity of a thousand suns.”

He cocked his brow.

Grinning, she shrugged. “It was in an old Chinese text I just translated. I’ve been waiting for days to use it in conversation. But let’s get back to your loner.”

“She’s not
my
loner.” That thought made him grit his teeth. If he didn’t know better, he’d say it was from frustration.

“But you want her to be yours.” She said it as a statement of fact.

“She can’t be mine. She’s involved in a case I’m investigating now.”

“Hmm.” Carrie rubbed the tip of her nose in thought.

“It’d be a conflict of interest. Aside from that, I don’t trust her. She has something to do with this case. Not to mention the strange thing I saw.”

“Couldn’t that have been a coincidence? The wind could have kicked up and moved the tree. Stranger things have happened.”

“Like a woman’s blood freezing to a solid state in her body?”

Her lips pursed. “You’re going to have to let that go.”

He couldn’t, just like he couldn’t let go of what he saw
Sophie
do, and he was positive she was the one responsible. “A person who lies about her name has things to hide.”

“Well, maybe it’s not what you think.” She put her hand over his, her gaze uncharacteristically serious. “I have a feeling about this. You see things in black and white, but sometimes there are areas of gray.”

“You sound like my grandmother.”

“Your grandmother must be a very wise woman.” She squeezed his hand. “I’d just hate it if she’s The One, and you blew it because of your ethics.”

He felt the corner of his mouth quirk. “Those damn ethics, always getting in the way.”

“Seriously.” She punched his arm. “Don’t judge her, even when you find out what she’s hiding. Not without talking to her first.”

He was definitely going to talk to her because he was determined to find out what
Sophie
was up to. First thing in the morning, he was doing a background check.

He stood up, straightening his coat. “Come on. It’s past pregnant women’s bedtimes. I’ll give you a ride home.”

She shook her head but stood up anyway. “It’s out of your way. You only live a few blocks from here.”

He tugged a curl. “You’re lucky I’m taking the long way home tonight.”

“You always say that.” Grinning, she slipped her arm around his waist and gave him a half hug. “You’re really great, you know that?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I’m not. I’m just not sure you realize it.” She gave him a sidelong look as she put on her coat. “When do I get to meet her?”

“She could be a suspect in a murder.”

“I like to live on the wild side.” Calling out a good-bye to Gabrielle, she took his arm. “You know,” she said as she let him lead her out of the bar, “I’m having a small dinner party soon. If I invited you, would you come?”

“I didn’t realize you cooked.”

She flashed her incandescent grin. “I don’t. Max has taught me that’s what caterers are for.”

“Useful guy.”

“In more ways than one. So would you come?” Her grip on his arm tightened in excitement. “It’s my first dinner party ever, believe it or not. It’d be totally casual. And you could bring your loner.”