chapter 32
Gabe was wearing a perfectly tailored Armani suit as he watched Summer move through the sunlight. She was elegant and sexy in a gray silk dress that fit her like a second skin. When they walked through the lobby, half a dozen men turned and stared.
The thought hit him that Summer could be involved with someone, despite Izzy’s research.
The possibility left him scowling.
“What’s wrong?”
They were almost at the front entrance to the hotel. Gabe considered the casual, roundabout approach and scrapped the idea. “Are you seeing anyone?” he demanded.
“What?”
“Involved, Mulvaney.” He almost slipped and used her real name. “Having sex in a committed consensual relationship with another adult, be that male or female.”
“None of your business.”
They walked outside into a perfect day. The sky was a blinding blue, and the sun shimmered on her hair, picking up glints of bronze and auburn. The scent of her shampoo, a subtle mix of apples and cinnamon, was driving Gabe crazy. “Damn it, Summer, just tell me if—”
“No.”
“No, you won’t or—”
“No, there’s no one.”
“Good,” he said harshly. He’d already heard it from Izzy, but he wanted to hear the answer from Summer.
“Why is that good?”
“Because if you were involved with someone, you’d be thinking about him instead of the job.” And I might have to kill him, Gabe thought. “If you’re distracted, you’re more likely to make mistakes.”
“What about you? How many women are penciled in to your date book, breathlessly awaiting your return?”
“I don’t keep a date book.” Gabe frowned, scanning the dozen cars parked in front of the hotel. Only one woman had ever distracted him from his work. Right now she was six inches away, smelling like apples on a summer day and driving him crazy.
“You look wonderful, so relax.”
“I’ve never been much good at relaxing,” Summer said irritably.
“Start trying. We’re supposed to be crazy in love, remember? Looking tense doesn’t go with our profile.”
“So?”
“So lean in closer and touch my shirt. Laugh softly and look into my eyes. The act has to be solid.”
Summer slid an arm slowly around his neck. “Like this?” She leaned into him and took his mouth in slow, hungry nibbles. When he groaned, she tongued his lower lip.
Gabe’s hands slid to her waist. “That’s convincing enough,” he growled.
She bit his lip again, then smoothed the spot with her tongue. “Are you sure?”
He cursed softly and turned away as three police officers appeared at the entrance to the hotel, struggling with a European businessman in a white suit. The man was belligerent and frightened in turn, switching from French to German to Spanish.
The police officers paid no attention, ignoring his demand to speak with his lawyer.
“What’s going on?” Summer muttered.
“I’ll find out.” Gabe spoke quietly to a nearby bellman, then returned as the police van pulled away. “I couldn’t get anything concrete, just that he was a businessman with many debts. He had checked out and was leaving the country today.” Gabe looked down at the hotel’s front steps. “Forget about him. Izzy’s here with the car.”
Across the driveway a man in a black uniform was holding open the door to a big silver limousine. Now Izzy was wearing a rakish hat and a devilish smile.
Summer took a deep breath and looked at Gabe. “Ready, Mr. Walker?”
“Absolutely, darling.” Gabe nodded and took Summer’s arm.
Summer tilted her head and traced his cheek slowly. “I’m sure it will be a very instructive morning, darling.” In the backseat, she leaned closer to Gabe. “But for the record, if anyone tries to give me a pelvic exam, I’ll use my service revolver on them.”
Tracey Van Doren was bored and depressed.
Damn it, where was Audra when she needed her? Vanished with her mom and sister, of course. Just Tracey’s luck.
She picked up her old Girl Scout binoculars and stared idly through the bright kitchen windows at Audra’s house. There were two people inside, and then one of them disappeared. Only Patrick was left, doing something near the table, then opening drawers and searching through canisters.
Tracey saw that there was a pile of opened letters on the table near him. She figured it was a little odd that a chef had so much mail.
She moved to get a closer look, then saw him turn and stare up at her, frowning. A sudden wave of fear went through her. Why was he staring at her? And why did he look so angry?