Take My Breath Away…

Nicola had nearly protested when he’d shifted her. Instead, she continued to play possum for a few more minutes. It wasn’t that she wanted him to make love to her again. Although if he made a move, she was pretty sure she would respond. She didn’t seem to have any way to stop herself.

And this just wasn’t like her. She’d never been so impulsive, so reckless with a man before. She had to break contact with him completely and get back to being FBI special agent Nicola Guthrie. She just needed another second to think of what she was supposed to do next.

What should she say? How could she explain what had happened, what she’d done, when she didn’t understand it herself?

She’d been on duty. She’d been pursuing a thief who’d gotten away, and the man she’d just made love to…twice…might know something important that would solve the case.

Then there was her father. She had to find a way to contact him and let him know that Gabe Wilder had nearly stolen the statue of St. Francis. In short, she had a job to do, and snuggling under the covers with a perfect stranger, no matter how tempting it might be, could not be on the top of her to-do list. But how to get him off of it was the problem.

Back to business, Nicola. Move.

But it was the stranger who began to inch away.

Drawing in a deep breath, she opened her eyes and fastened them on his. She felt the impact of his gaze right down to her toes.

“You’re awake,” he said.

“I have been for a while,” she confessed. “I was just trying to figure out what to say to you.” She still didn’t have a clue. And looking into his eyes wasn’t helping. Dragging her gaze away, she fastened it on the cut on his forehead. “Your head. Are you all right?”

Guilt overcame her. She’d forgotten all about his injuries when she’d awakened the first time. The man had been unconscious and bleeding when she’d found him.

“I could use half a bottle of aspirin.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

His brows snapped together. “For what?”

“For…for…jumping you when you had clearly sustained head injuries. I checked your eyes to see if they were dilated—but I’m not a doctor.”

“Are they dilated now?”

She studied them for a minute. “No.” She raised her index finger in front of his face. “When I move it to the left and right, follow it with your eyes.”

He did. “What’s my prognosis?”

“Your eyes seem fine. But all of my medical knowledge comes from a mandatory first aid course I took. Or TV. You should definitely go to an emergency room.” She started to move away, but he gripped her shoulders and held her in place. “For the record, the jumping was mutual. And I’m the one who took the initial step.”

“You’d been unconscious. I should never have crawled under the covers with you… And you gave me a chance to stop things. I didn’t.”

And she wasn’t moving away right now. In fact, if he gave her the least little bit of encouragement… No. She was going to move. Away. And she would have if he hadn’t chosen that particular moment to smile. Her bones began to melt.

“Are you seriously trying to argue that you took advantage of me, Curls? I assure you that you didn’t.”

“Curls?” She blinked, then stared at him as fragmented images filled her mind the way they might have swirled into place in a kaleidoscope. She gave her head a shake. In denial? But the images didn’t fade. She was back at the St. Francis Center playing basketball on the small streetside court. With Gabe Wilder.

He took a strand of her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “I miss your curls. Remember when I used to tug on them?”

The widening of his smile transformed the ripples of recognition that had been lapping at the edge of her mind into a full-blown wave. And she did remember. He’d often tugged her hair to push her into making a more aggressive play. She’d hated it. And he’d always called her Curls. She’d hated that, too.

“Gabe.” She stared at him, hoping against hope that she was wrong. “You’re Gabe Wilder.”

“Guilty.”

She closed her eyes. Perhaps when she opened them, she would find that it had all been a dream. But her practical side was reasserting itself with a vengeance, and she definitely hadn’t dreamed what had happened. No way. Dreams never rocked your world. That was a job for reality.

So she’d deal. She would find a way to solve the problem. But when she opened her eyes, the only thing she wanted to deal with was right there in front of her. And she didn’t want to move except to pull him closer and to feel his mouth on hers again.

“No. No. No.”

That wasn’t happening. And there was only one person she could blame for the fact that it ever had. Well, maybe two. When a tiny flicker of anger sprang to life, she finally found the strength to place her hands on his shoulders and push hard. Then she wiggled out from beneath the pile of robes.

The marble floor beneath her butt might just as well have been a block of ice. Her skimpy lace panties provided no protection. She felt around on the floor for her slacks.

“I can assure you that I am Gabe Wilder. I can even show you some I.D.”

“No, you can’t. I checked for your wallet before and it was gone.” Then she made the big mistake of looking at him. He’d risen and was in the process of pulling his jeans into place. But before they got there, she got a good look at those long legs, the narrow hips and waist, and his… Her mouth went dry.

He checked his pockets, then frowned. “I’m missing my car keys, too.”

“That’s not all. The other guy took your car, too. Black SUV.” She rattled off the license plate.

“He stole my car?”

“I saw him drive away in it. That’s why I assumed you were not Gabe Wilder.”

“Interesting.”

“Interesting? It’s more than that,” she managed to say as her brain cells began to click on again. “This whole thing is totally unfair. If I had known who you were, I never should have…we never should have…”

“Spilled milk, don’t you think?”

“Think? That’s just it. I wasn’t thinking. If I’d known you were Gabe Wilder, I never would have…” She waved a hand. “Never. He…you were my prime suspect. I was sure that you were connected to the thefts. You had to be. I always get this feeling when I’m right about something.”

“What things?”

“Applying to the FBI for a job, coming back here to Denver to work for my dad.” Playing basketball with you when I was ten. But she didn’t blurt that part out. “I’m not usually wrong.”

When he walked over to her and squatted down so that he could meet her eyes, she stifled the urge to wiggle away. Instead, she lifted her chin and locked her eyes on his. She was going to figure out a way to handle him.

“You didn’t recognize me.”

“No.” Since he was frowning, she frowned right back at him. “How was I supposed to? I haven’t seen you since we were kids.”

“Except for that one time when I visited your father. I saw you through the glass wall of your office. I wanted you that day. And you wanted me, too.”

She swallowed hard, but she kept her eyes steady on his. “It’s been fifteen years and you weren’t wearing a name tag.”

“Who did you think I was?”

Nicola felt the flame of anger inside of her grow. She hadn’t been thinking then either. She’d just been feeling. “I assumed you were a client, someone who had business with the FBI.”

He was interrogating her. And her butt was growing number by the second. Not to mention her toes.

“Not then. Who did you think I was when you crawled in with me?”

“Do you mind?” She would have gotten to her feet if she could have managed it without touching him. “I’m freezing here. I’d like to get dressed.”

“Sorry.” He picked up her slacks. “These are soaked from the knees down.” After draping them on a nearby radiator, he took her hands and pulled her to her feet. Then turning, he picked up two robes and handed her one. “I’m sure Father Mike won’t mind if we borrow these.”

Nicola said nothing as she slipped into it. The material pooled around her feet. Gabe’s robe, on the other hand, fell just below his knees.

“Your boots and socks are soaked, too,” he said as he placed them on the radiator next to his shirt.

Then he turned to her. “Ready?”

“For what?”

Before she even had time to protest, he scooped her up in his arms and strode out toward the altar. “I want to check on the statues. Don’t you?”

“Yes.” Of course she did. That was what she should be thinking about, not… Then she was sitting in a front pew, her legs stretched out in front of her, and he was tucking the robe around her feet.

“Stay here. The thief didn’t steal my cell. I’m going to see if it works.”

“I couldn’t get a signal earlier.”

He tossed a grin over his shoulder as he climbed the steps to the side altar. “You’ve got to know where to stand to pick it up. When I was installing the alarm, I learned the only place to get a signal in the place is right here by St. Francis. I’ll update your father. He can put an APB out on my car.”