The Awakening

Unfazed by her temper, Luther lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug. 'When you were out of it, I picked you up and felt it there. To keep from stabbing either of us, I took it.'

She thrust out her hand. 'Give. It. Back.'

Ignoring her outstretched arm, he examined the blade with the edge of his thumb—and watched as a bead of blood welled up. 'This thing could be dangerous.'

'Well duh, Sherlock. What would be the point of carrying it otherwise?'

His gaze locked with hers. 'Why are you carrying it?'

The He tripped easily off her tongue. 'Look around you. Would you wander this neighborhood unarmed?'

He went back to examining her blade. 'This is a mighty big knife for such a little girl.'

Asshole. Gaby's chin shot up. 'You took advantage of me.'

His slow smile made her uneasy. 'No, but I could have.'

She should take the knife from him and be gone from the area before Cross knew what to think. It'd mean hurting him, though. A lot.

And she hesitated to do that.

He turned speculative. 'I should confiscate this—'

'I wouldn't try it, if I were you.' Proficient in the use of most weapons, she didn't need her knife, but she wanted it. Silent and deadly, clean and neat when she wanted it to be, it was a part of her.

Breaking necks and gouging out eyes, among other deadly means, was much messier.

As if she hadn't spoken, Luther said, 'But I'm not going to.'

And reminiscent of her earlier gesture with the man in the alley, he flipped the knife around and offered it to her, handle first.

Choosing silence, rather than some lame reply, Gaby took it, slid it into the sheath, and walked away.

He followed.

She kept going, across the street, the sidewalk, up a step, then another to the apartment door. 'Good-bye Detective.'

'Call me Luther.'

Without making a sound, he'd moved so close she felt his breath on her shoulder. 'Drop dead, Luther.'

His warm fingers curled over her upper arm, guiding her around so that she faced him. 'You're not wearing a bra.'

And just what the hell did that have to do with anything? 'So? I never do. Why should I?'

Holding her gaze locked in his, he slid his hand down her arm, to her elbow. 'Because of this?' And he pressed a hand over her chest.

Brown eyes darkening, he caressed her, made a small sound of pleasure, and dropped his hand.

Gaby was too stunned to move. A riot of combustible sensations jerried inside her. Why would he do such a thing?

And why had she allowed it by standing there, silent, numb, stupefied?

By God, she wouldn't allow it.

In delayed reaction, with no clue to her intentions, she punched him in the jaw.

Hard.

He wasn't expecting the blow. He didn't prepare for it, didn't try to dodge her fist. She connected solidly, and his head snapped to the side.

Eyes narrowed, teeth bared, he said, 'Son of a—'

Gaby took another shot, this one coming low and swinging up, aimed at his midsection. But she'd given him a warning with that first strike, and he easily sidestepped her, caught her elbow, and jerked her off balance.

He'd forgotten they were on steps, and she went down them.

He cursed as he tried to catch her arm so she wouldn't fall.

She didn't. She leaped down the steps, immediately turned, and squared off with him again. He blocked her kick to his ribs, her elbow to his head.

'Christ, Gaby, I don't want to fight you.'

'Too bad,' she growled, and landed a knee to his thigh.

His leg crumpled, but on his way down, he caught her ankle and tripped her.

Neither of them stayed down.

'I don't fight women,' he warned.

'Then plan on staying in bed tomorrow.'

'Is that a threat—or an invitation?' He blocked another blow, frustrating her.

No one blocked her strikes.

'You can jam your invitation.' Stupid bastard. Her next kick caught him in the biceps, making him curse. Good, Let him be distracted. She swung for his face—and he caught her list one inch from making contact with his straight, very handsome nose.

She would have broken it. She still wanted to.

'I'm sorry I fondled you.'

Fondled her. How ridiculous that sounded. 'Not yet,' she warned, 'but you will be.' Her left almost connected, before he caught it, too.

Gaby jerked free and then retreated a step to prepare for her next move.

He eyed her expression, flattened his mouth, and said, 'If you pull that knife on me, you'll be the sorry one.'

'Ha!' She eyed him up and down. 'I don't need my knife for the likes of you.' She didn't want to kill him. She just wanted him to bleed some.

Moving fast, he ducked under a punch that would've blacked his eye, and came up behind her. She managed an elbow to his midsection before he pinned her arms to her sides and squeezed the breath right out of her.

He kept his face tucked in by her shoulder, so she couldn't head-butt him, and he hefted her right off her feet, so she couldn't stomp his toes.

Not that she'd have done much damage in her flip-flops, anyway.

She went limp, giving him her dead weight. But he didn't let go, didn't give her any leverage.

'I shouldn't have touched you,' he said, breathing hard and fast. 'That was wrong and you have my sincere apology.'

'Bastard,' she gasped out around the restriction of his hold. Sparks lit in front of her eyes as she went lightheaded from lack of oxygen.

Cautiously, Cross gave her a bit more room. With his face so close beside hers, his breath teased her neck, his wet hair touched cold against her skin.

'I've never in my life done anything like that. I don't blame you for being pissed, and I swear to you, it won't happen again.' He paused, cursed under his breath, and added, 'Unless I have your permission.'

That made her jerk and howl, determined to get free and bludgeon him into the ground.

His arms tightened like a vise. 'But I need to talk to you now, Gaby, and you will act civilized.'

His superior attitude bit big-time, but what could she do about it? At the moment, nothing. She couldn't get free of him without causing him a serious injury, possibly even killing him, and that she wouldn't do.

She killed enough bad people.

She didn't want to kill a good one.

He waited, and much as it nettled Gaby, she gave a small nod.

Being smart, the second he opened his arms, he separated himself from her. In less of a hurry, Gaby turned to face him. He'd gotten his way, but there were things he should know.

Her gaze locked with his. 'If I'd wanted you hurt, you would be hurting.'

He acknowledged that with a nod of his own, rubbed the back of his neck, and paced two feet away. 'Where were you earlier today?'

Gaby tracked his every movement. 'What's it to you?'

He flashed a fearsome, annoyed frown. 'A man was murdered.'

She stared back, her expression carefully blank. Had he somehow connected her to it? Impossible. He'd seen the body, the damage she'd done. Yet he hadn't hesitated to cozy up to her, to confront her and ..