Of course. He wouldn’t be here, otherwise. “Why are you curious about my interest in Blaine?”
“Because I met him last night. Since you saw him when the Wetherton attack went down wrong, I wanted your opinion of him.”
He motioned her forward, and then pressed his hand lightly against her spine to guide her toward his car. The warmth of his touch trembled across her skin. Yep, she had it bad. But if he noticed her reaction, he didn’t say anything. Didn’t react in any visible way himself.
“I know this sounds catty, but why does my opinion of the man matter?”
He slanted her a look as he opened the car’s passenger door for her. “Because you have an innate skill for sensing evil in people. I want to know if you sensed it in him.”
She waited until he’d climbed into the car before replying, “Yes and no.”
He started the car and pulled out smoothly into the early morning traffic. Then he flicked on auto-drive and programmed it to head to the hotel where she’d been staying. She certainly hadn’t told him she was staying there,
so he’d obviously dug it out of her personnel file. If she wasn’t so tired she might have felt annoyed, but right now all she felt was vague amusement.
“What does that mean?” he asked.
“It means that when Wetherton’s car was attacked and I was trying to save his ass, I felt no sense of evil from Blaine. Yet yesterday afternoon, as he was coming out of Wetherton’s office, my skin fairly crawled at the sight of him. And oddly, he had no trace on him of the wounds he had received in the bombing.”
Gabriel frowned. “What time was that?”
“A little after six. Why?”
“Because when I saw him a little before seven, there were definitely traces of wounds on his face then.”
Sam felt a shiver run up her spine. “So what are you saying, that there are two different Blaines? Like a clone?” Though it certainly made sense, given her differing reactions to the man.
“Or a shifter impersonating Blaine,” Gabriel added. “Do you know why he was visiting Wetherton?”
“Something to do with military funding. But why would someone bother to impersonate Blaine just to beg for money? If your Blaine had the wounds and was with Lloyd—who presumably would be able to spot a fake—then clearly he was the real Blaine.” So why was her Blaine—the fake Blaine—the evil one? It made no sense. Then she frowned. “And why were they both turning up at a murder scene, anyway?”
“Because the woman murdered was Kathryn Douglass, director of the Pegasus Foundation, which has strong military ties.”
“But that doesn’t explain why Lloyd and Blaine would turn up.”
“Many of the projects Pegasus was involved in came from Hopeworth. Blaine was Douglass’s military contact.”
“But…” Sam hesitated, mulling over the little she’d heard or read about Pegasus. “Don’t they make big hardware, like fighter planes and stuff?”
“Yes, but they also work on smaller, more experimental weapons for Hopeworth. Illie and I were called in there yesterday to investigate a break-in.”
“Illie being your new partner?” Meaning he didn’t have something against partners, just against her?
Gabriel scowled. “Not by choice, I can assure you.” His gaze met hers for a long moment, and she saw not only annoyance but a loneliness and a longing that was as deep as anything she’d ever felt.
If ever she needed encouragement to carry on with her crazy seduction plan, that was it. The problem was, how far should she push? And how soon? Given the situation—and her reassignment—it wasn’t going to be easy, no matter what she decided.
Which meant that maybe she needed to seduce him sooner rather than later—and hit him hard and fast. Give him no time to think, just react.
She looked out the window and wondered if she could even do that. Wondered if she’d do nothing more than make a fool of herself. Lord, she hadn’t even kissed the man, and here she was, thinking of full-blooded seduction. And she had only her hormones and his sister saying that he was interested. Because while she might see loneliness and need in his eyes, it didn’t actually mean that either was aimed at her.
“Sam?”
She jerked out of her thoughts and met his gaze. “Huh?”
He studied her again, his gaze shrewd and almost judgmental. “I said the problem was, Illie wasn’t the partner they were hoping to see.”
She frowned. “Meaning they wanted me? Why?”