If Books Could Kill

I followed him to the door. He was pacing up and down the hall, swearing sharply. What was he doing here, and where in the world had he come from?

 

Then he stalked back into my room. It took another few seconds of creative swearing before he seemed to notice me again.

 

“Hey, babe,” he said. “You’re looking good.” Then he bent over to catch his breath.

 

“Are you freaking kidding me?” I shouted. This wasn’t a dream. I was wide-awake now, but still bewildered and slightly discombobulated. And yeah, angry.

 

He straightened up and let out another heavy breath, then raked both hands through his thick black hair. Talk about looking good. The man was gorgeous, if you like them tall, tough and sexy, with hair long enough to tie back and eyes greener than a Sonoma hillside.

 

He laughed, still breathing heavily. “Haven’t climbed a fire escape in a few years. Call the police, would you?”

 

“Gabriel,” I said. “What the hell are you doing here?”

 

He studied me frankly, from my toes up to my hair. Then he grinned, causing his eyes to sparkle and two adorable dimples to appear in his cheeks. “Saving your ass again. Not that I mind. It’s a fine ass.”

 

I looked down. Yes, I was still wearing my baggy plaid flannel pajamas. On the bright side, at least I was wearing something.

 

He, on the other hand, wore a black leather bomber jacket over a black T-shirt, boots and worn black jeans that perfectly accented his equally fine ass.

 

Gabriel-no last name, apparently-and I had met a month or so ago when he helped save me from a psychopathic teenager who’d been hired by Abraham’s murderer to kill me. And if that didn’t make sense, welcome to my world.

 

After gaining my trust, Gabriel had later stolen an extremely rare copy of Plutarch’s Parallel Lives from my apartment and given it to Guru Bob. Heck, if I’d known Guru Bob wanted the book, I would’ve given it to him myself. I didn’t need some darkly handsome thief breaking into my place to do it for me.

 

And here he was. It was déjà vu all over again.

 

“Gabriel, what’s going on?”

 

He’d moved over to the window and was checking the broken glass. “Call the police first. We can shoot the breeze after.”

 

“Oh, yeah, we’ll shoot the breeze.” Not trusting him as far as I could throw him, I kept an eye on him as I picked up the phone and made the emergency call, asking the dispatcher to alert Detective Inspector MacLeod that there had been a breakin related to the recent murders.

 

I hung up the phone and stared hard at Gabriel. Despite my mistrust, I knew I was perfectly safe with him. But that wasn’t the point.

 

“What are you really doing here?”

 

“I’m here on business,” he said, pushing the windows open and climbing out to the fire escape. He fiddled with the window locks, and it looked as if he were testing them for some reason. Then he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and began to wipe down the locks and the window frame.

 

“Wait!” I said. “There might be fingerprints.”

 

“Right,” he said. “Mine.” His generous mouth twisted into a frown as he wiped down the surface of the unbroken glass. “I don’t need any trouble with the Edinburgh constabulary.”

 

“But you didn’t do anything,” I insisted. “I’ll tell them you came in to help me.”

 

“I appreciate that, babe.” His smile was so sweet, his dimples so delectable that I had a hard time remembering he was basically a thief. “Do you have another room you can stay in tonight?”

 

“Yeah,” I said, thinking of Robin. I dropped into the desk chair and rubbed my face. I should’ve been more freaked out, but the truth was, I was just too tired to manage it. I knew without a doubt that it was the killer who had run through my room before Gabriel showed up.

 

“What happened?” I asked. “How did you come after this guy?”

 

“Just lucky,” he said with a shrug. “I was crossing the parking lot and happened to look up and see him outside your room. I threw some rocks at him, then finally started up the fire escape after him. That’s when he broke your window and escaped through here.”

 

“Wow, lucky is right.”

 

“Damn straight.”

 

“Did you recognize him? Could you describe him for the police?”

 

“I couldn’t see him that well,” he explained as he crossed the room to wipe the door handle clean. “I basically saw a figure by your window and went after him.”

 

I sat back in the chair. “Well, that sucks.”

 

Gabriel moved to the desk and wiped it down. “I’d say he was probably my height, about six feet, maybe six-one. But that’s about it. Sorry.”

 

My shoulders slumped. I wouldn’t be able to describe the guy either, except to say that he was definitely male. So much for my powers of observation.