Tapestry of the Past Read online

  Rounding a bend, Kalesia stomped on the brakes. A cloud of white dust settled on the car and flew in the window to coat the inside with a fine powder. She blew out a gust of air, waving away the dust.

  Amazed, she stared at row after row of precisely aligned potted plants and shrubs. The lawn surrounding the house and leading toward a huge greenhouse flanked by two smaller greenhouses, was immaculate. She doubted there was a mole cricket alive that could muster the nerve to invade that expanse of green.

  “Well, so much for first impressions. Maybe Major Harley knows what he’s doing after all.”

  Gabriel Steele, it appeared, was a neatness freak.

  Easing her foot off the brake, she let the little car roll under a stand of ancient Live Oak. She sat for a moment, soaking in the atmosphere surrounding the nursery. Above, Spanish moss swayed with ghostly elegance as an errant breeze played a silent minuet.

  Kalesia rubbed her palms over her forearms as a sudden shiver engulfed her.

  Little more than an indistinct shadow against the darker shade under the eaves of the greenhouse, Gabriel Steele watched the woman negotiate the uneven flagstone walkway in fuck-me high heels. He blinked lazily at the outrageously sassy color. The lady’s shoes were a bright, shocking yellow, a perfect match for her car and skirt. Intrigued, he allowed his gaze to travel up shapely calves and settle on a firm ass.

  A hard fist of intense desire hit him, catching him by surprise. His cock swelled and hardened as his gaze settled on the gentle sway of lushly curved hips. Gabriel adjusted his jeans. Damn, it’d been years since his body had reacted so fast. His mouth pulled down in a frown. He hadn’t been ruled by his cock since high school. Maybe not even then. He sure as hell wasn’t going to start now. Not even for the rounded curves of a heart-shaped ass, he told himself as he willed the unruly organ to behave. It swelled further, making his comfortable work jeans suddenly too tight.

  Son of a bitch.

  Leaving the concealing shadows of the greenhouse, Gabriel stalked after the woman responsible for his body’s unwonted betrayal.

  “May I help you?” he growled.

  Chapter Two

  Kalesia, hand poised to knock, whirled around and met ghost-filled gray eyes.

  His eyes weren’t brown. The incongruous thought flitted through her mind. For some reason, she had expected them to be brown like Major Harley’s. Instead, they were a pure crystalline color that left her with no place to hide.

  Kalesia froze, pinned by that haunted gaze.

  His lashes lowered. The next instant Kalesia was left wondering if she had imagined the ghosts. She searched his eyes but ran up against a wall mirroring reflections but not the soul within. Whatever she had seen was gone. Now she couldn’t read impatience, curiosity…anything at all. A quiver ran through her.

  “What can I do for you?” Midnight soft and whiskey warm, his voice slid through the evening air and stroked her nerve endings. The unexpected sensation of being licked and enveloped by hot flames shook Kalesia to the core. Her mind went blank. She tightened her fingers on the strap of her purse until the leather cut into the soft skin of her palm. The crinkle of heavy paper reminded her why she was there.

  She held out the crumpled business card. “My name is Kalesia Brannigan. Tom Harley sent me.”

  The man’s expression hardened. “And to think it isn’t even my birthday.” Then, his reluctance obvious, he opened the screen door and motioned her inside the darkened house. “Somehow I had the feeling you weren’t here to buy a caladium.”

  Kalesia hesitated, beset by the uncomfortable sense of entering a predator’s lair. She jumped as he leaned in close and spoke in her ear. “Going or staying?”

  Her heart hammered in her chest. Did she dare enter?

  Did she dare not?

  Mouth so dry cotton wouldn’t stick to it, she stepped inside.

  A work-hardened forearm reached around her, brushing her breast as he switched on a lamp. Her breast tingled from the small contact and, beneath the brushed silk of her shirt, her nipples contracted into small, hard nubs. Oh God. Cheeks hot, she hoped he couldn’t see her reaction to the inadvertent touch. She inhaled, trying to get a hold on herself.

  Wild, earthy, rain-soaked. His scent surrounded her, wrapped her senses in heady, sexy folds and settled low in her stomach. Her nostrils quivered and her pussy lips plumped and swelled. She closed her eyes for a second. Oh God, she was in so much trouble. Kalesia didn’t think she was picky when it came to looks, height or eye color but a clean, feral scent? She was such a sucker for it. And for firm buns. She chanced a discreet peek. Dead. Dead. Sooo dead. The man had an ass you could bounce quarters off.

  With the wave of an arm, he indicated Kalesia should take a seat. Tugging the lapels of her jacket closer together, she fastened it as she sank into the nearest chair. Sweet mercy, she really hoped he’d put down her scarlet cheeks to awkwardness over asking a complete stranger for help, instead of the mixture of embarrassment and lust it was. When he settled in the chair across from her without comment, a tiny sigh of relief slipped free from the bottom of her soul. Until she realized the glow of the lamp fell full on her face but somehow managed to keep his in shadow.

  He snagged her gaze.

  The hairs on the back of Kalesia’s neck lifted. She knew without a doubt that she was in the presence of a predator. It was in the glitter of his eyes, the utter stillness about the large form and the aura of infinite patience that surrounded him as he waited for her to tell him why she was there.

  Kalesia ran the tip of her tongue over parched lips, everything inside her tightening when that crystalline gaze followed the small movement. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the man lounging across from her. Night black hair with a few threads of silver running through the short length, it made her think of moonlight on a lake.

  The image of that powerful form sprawled on a bed, wearing nothing but the light of the moon, flashed into her brain.

  No, no, no. She was so not going there. Just because the guy pushed every button she owned and maybe a few she just rented, did not mean she was going to forget why she was here. And it was not to jump his bones.

  Between her thighs, her lace panties grew wet.

  She saw his nostrils flare.

  Embarrassment, acute and immediate, heated her face until even her ears burned. Pleasepleaseplease. Tell me he cannot smell his effect on me. She chanted it over and over, like a mantra.

  He shifted in his chair. Without thinking, she looked at his lap.

  The dusty, black jeans had a distinct bulge. A very large, distinct bulge.

  “I need someone to protect me,” she blurted.

  “Go to the authorities.”

  “I did. I told you, they sent me to you.” The hard face was closed, his very demeanor anything but encouraging. Kalesia felt that familiar sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. He wasn’t going to help. She began twisting the citrine ring on her finger.

  Gabriel noted the nervous gesture as he stretched his legs out, hoping to ease the pressure on his erection. “If they can’t help you, what makes you think I can?” Across from him, the woman fidgeted, rubbing her palms on the yellow skirt before crossing her legs neatly at the ankles in a purely feminine gesture. For such a small woman—she couldn’t be more than five-two or three without the heels—she had surprisingly long legs. Under his steady gaze, she crossed and uncrossed them again. On a white-gold chain circling one slender ankle, a tiny unicorn with bells for hooves winked at him.

  A mythical beast on a fantasy woman. Son of a bitch.

  “Because Tom Harley seemed to think you can.”

  Gabriel sighed, pulling his attention from the slender ankle. “Start at the beginning.” Damn, Tom had a nasty sense of humor but he should have remembered payback was hell.

  “Someone is going to kill me.”

  That caught Gabriel’s attention. He sat up straight. “And the authorities won’t offer protection?” Why the hell had
Harley sent her to him? He knew Tom. Not only was the man a dedicated law enforcement officer but he was one of those rare beings who actually gave a shit if a person lived or died. If she were truly in danger, why wasn’t he taking care of the problem?

  Her chin came up and her bright green eyes offered a challenge. “They can’t.”

  “Why?”

  Her gaze flitted to the front door then back to him, a movement so swift that if he hadn’t been watching carefully, he would have missed it. Behind those green eyes, he saw thoughts swirling in a chaotic mix. He got the distinct impression she was going to lie, then he saw her breasts lift as she sucked in a silent breath. Her shoulders slumped. “They have nothing to go on but my word.”

  “Threats, phone calls, near misses?” He would pound Tom into the ground if he was messing with him. More than once the older man had told him he needed to get out and find a woman. Get laid. Something. Anything other than holing up on this isolated bit of property. He couldn’t shake the suspicion this whole plea for help was a setup.

  Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take her to bed. Just once. After all, Tom had sent her to him.

  The insidious thought popped into his head and refused to leave.

  She was already shaking her head. “No, none of those things.”

  “Then just what do you have to go on?” He made his voice very soft. Inside, he went cold. All half-formed thoughts of fucking her evaporated. He hated games and if she was playing one, it was one she’d never play again. Not after he finished with her.

  She exhaled a shaky breath. “Mr. Steele, all my life I’ve had the ability, or curse, depending on your point of view, to be able to see things that have happened.”

  “What sort of things?”

  “Murders.”

  “Son of a bitch. What the hell was Harley thinking?” Left unsaid but clear in his tone was the fact he thought she was a fake. A sense of betrayal fueled his anger. Tom knew his history. Most of it at least. He should have known that Kalesia Brannigan was the last woman he’d be interested in.

  “Now you just wait a minute!” Pure rage flashed across her face and tightened her full lips. “You haven’t even heard me out!” She shot to her feet, the anklet charm tinkling with the force of her anger. “Where Major Harley gets his faith in you sure beats me. He, at least, was willing to listen.” Disdain dripped from her voice.

  Either she was a very good liar or believed what she was saying. Gabriel studied her. Emotion shimmered in the lagoon-green eyes, intensifying the color. Damn. If he were a betting man, he’d swear she actually believed the nonsense she was spouting. So that left him with a very interesting question, did Harley send her because he thought there was something to her story or because he knew Gabriel would be attracted to her?

  “Tom gets paid to listen.” Gabriel gave a silent sigh and admitted to himself that he wasn’t going to send her away. At least, not yet. He waved to the chair. “Sit.”

  She glared at him before grudgingly retaking her seat.

  “Tell me exactly what you told Harley.” If he had any sense, he’d shift her sexy little ass right out the door instead of listening to fairy tales. He needed his head examined, he decided.

  “I saw a body by a pond. I didn’t want to look at the face, so I studied the area around the body. I recognized it.” Back ramrod straight, each sentence was crisp, concise. It was clear she was still pissed at him.

  He felt a tug of amusement. “Recognized?”

  “As a place where I go often.”

  “Why?”

  “To take photos, walk, mostly to think. It’s peaceful and secluded.”

  “Any chance that you could have seen or photographed something you shouldn’t have?”

  She appeared to think for a moment. “I don’t believe so. I can only remember a handful of times that I even met another person while there. Usually teenagers looking for a place to neck.”

  “What else was in your,” he paused. She glared at him, “vision.”

  “It was in winter or early spring.”

  “What makes you say that?” Gabriel watched her like a hawk but each subtle shift of expression and motion all backed up his original assessment. Kalesia Brannigan believed she’d had a psychic vision. A reluctant tug of interest reared its ugly head.

  “The woods were bare and the grass brown. I had the impression of winter or early spring. When I,” a delicate shudder rippled through her small frame, “looked at her face, I saw mine.” Her eyes darkened to almost black as the pupils swallowed the green. Slender fingers twisted together in her lap.

  Nervousness or an attempt at control?

  “There had been a struggle. She—I—had been shot. Once. Through the heart.” Irritation forgotten, she leaned forward and placed a carmine-tipped hand on his. “Please believe me, Mr. Steele, this isn’t some sort of a joke.”

  A trace of magnolia and exotic woods teased Gabriel’s senses. Against the ruined flesh of his wrist, her hand was small and smooth. He stared down for a long minute, breath clogged in his throat. He surged to his feet.

  “I can’t help you.”

  “Just like that?” Stunned, she stared at him, her eyes huge.

  He couldn’t do this. He could not have what little serenity he’d managed to carve out of the ruins of his life, taken from him. Rage, pain and need, coalesced in one tangled ball. He focused it all on the woman sitting so still. Gabriel leaned over her, a hand on each arm of the chair. He used his size and fury to intimidate her without compunction. “You’re very good, lady but we both know you didn’t come out here because of some so-called vision. Trust me. You would have gotten a lot farther if you’d been upfront with me.” He was so close he could see the faint trace of freckles across the bridge of her nose.

  Somehow, that made him even more furious.

  “I guess you do deserve something for coming out here all this way and for putting on such a superb performance.” He grinned, a feral showing of teeth.

  The pulse in the vulnerable hollow of her throat pounded. For some reason, it didn’t give him the satisfaction he’d expected.

  Before she had time to react, his mouth covered hers.

  Soft. Warm. Moist. His tongue pushed inside, not giving her a chance to regain her equilibrium. Her hands came up to rest against his chest, giving a tentative shove. Gabriel nipped her bottom lip in warning.

  She gave in with a soft moan. Her hands slid up to rest against his shoulders, nails kneading the heavy muscles like a cat.

  Triumph heated his blood. He rewarded her with a gentle swipe of his tongue to soothe the small sting. One large hand cradling the back of her head, his fingers tunneled into a wealth of red hair beneath the braid. He used his hold to tip her head up for a deeper kiss.

  That fast, Gabriel forgot he was trying to make her run away, forgot that she was dangerous to his peace of mind. All he cared about was how good she tasted.

  “That’s it, darlin’. Open for me. Let me taste you. I need to taste you.”

  His tongue stroked the sensitive roof of her mouth, danced away from hers only to come back and tangle with hers. The sexy, little, back-of-the-throat sounds she was making drove Gabriel crazy. He couldn’t get enough of them.

  He fumbled with the over-large button on her jacket, swearing softly into the heat of her mouth as it resisted his attempt to unfasten it. At last he got it open. Immediately, he cupped her breast. She wasn’t wearing a bra! He rubbed his thumb back and forth over the crest of her breast, feeling the nipple peak beneath his touch.

  He swallowed her gasp.

  He tore his mouth free from hers, seeking and finding the small, hard nub. Gabriel braced himself with one hand on the arm of the chair. The position put unbearable pressure on his erection.

  Almost as if she knew, Kalesia popped the button of his fly free. Mouth around the tip of her nipple, he froze, hardly daring to take a breath as he waited for the feel of those soft hands wrapped around his cock.

  Slowly,
ever-so-slowly, she eased the zipper down. He wasn’t wearing underwear so his cock jutted out, thick and proud, from the opening of his pants.

  “Commando?” The throaty question went straight to his balls.

  Gabriel lifted his head, taking a moment to study the wet circle on her silk blouse. “What can I say? I like to be one with nature.” He trailed a forefinger over the damp spot, satisfaction roaring through him when she shivered, her nipple drawing even tighter.

  “Trust me, sugar, you are a miracle of nature.” Green eyes teasing, she traced an invisible line the length of his aching cock before circling her fingers around it, right behind the flared cap. She seemed fascinated when his cock flexed in her grasp.

  Gabriel slid a hand up the inside of her thigh. Halfway up, his palm met warm flesh instead of silky stocking. Son of a bitch. She was wearing garters. Call him old-fashioned but there was something about garters on a woman. He slid his palm higher, until he felt the lace of her panties. Tugging the delicate panel of lace aside, he slipped one finger deep inside her body. The wet heat of her snug passage made him groan.

  God, he needed to be inside her.

  Wrapping his hand around her neck, he started to tug her up when she turned her head and placed a tiny kiss on the inside of his wrist. Right on the ridged, slick scar that circled it.

  What in the hell was he doing? He was supposed to be getting rid of her, not taking her to bed.

  Using his thumb to tilt her chin, he whispered into her mouth, “Tell Harley not to send a flake next time.”

  She went utterly still, then erupted out of the chair. Unprepared for the strength of her shove, he stumbled back a step. She faced him, all spitting fury and feminine outrage. “You bastard.”

  For a moment, Gabriel thought she was going to take a swing at him. Instead, she leaned down and grabbed her purse but not before he saw the wounded look in her green eyes.