Edge of Danger (21 page)

 
She’d never been so afraid in her life.

 
“For God’s sake, let me retrieve the data the easy way. It won’t hurt—hell, you won’t feel a thing, other than sexual satisfaction. The other way, the hard and time-consuming way, is for you to rebuild Rex upstairs in the lab I prepared for you. Your choice. Because, I assure you, Doctor. An accurate duplicate
will
be produced.”

 
“I guess we’ll just have to see who has the most patience, won’t we?” she told him, feeling a chill of premonition slither up her spine. No matter how much she hoped that it had been a Verdine Industries competitor who had stolen Rex, on a gut level, she believed what Gabriel was telling her.

 
Some terrorist group had her brainchild, and they would do exactly what he said they’d do. They’d mass-produce her technology, and they wouldn’t be able to be stopped.

 
“I have infinite patience. I could outwait you. But that’s unacceptable. We don’t have the luxury of that kind of time.”

 
“Then let me contact Homeland Security,” Eden said as calmly as she could, but a tremor crept into her voice. “Please? If they tell me you people are who you say you are, I’ll help you develop a duplicate Rex.”

 
She had a perfectly good lab in Tempe. A lab well away from this man with his intense burning eyes, who aroused some kind of strange yearning inside her that she neither understood nor welcomed. He’d offered her an orgasm in exchange for Rex. God help her, she was almost tempted. Almost.

 
“You’re going to have to take my word for it.”

 
“Your word? And if I don’t?”

 
“We go back to the easy way or the hard way.”

 
“That’s rape.”

 
“Jesus, woman!” He looked horrified at the suggestion. “I can’t touch you.”

 
His curse made no mention of no touching. He’d made that one up to suit himself. A curse for all seasons, she thought with annoyance. “Can’t, or won’t?”

 
“Same thing.”

 
It wasn’t. But if
he
felt it was, that was fine with her. She rose to her feet, and stared at him lounging on the sofa, his arms outstretched on the back cushions on either side of him, ankle crossed over the opposite knee. “Ever?”

 
“Ever.”

 
“Good.” She broke eye contact, and ran flat out for the door. She heard his oath behind her, but kept going, dodging furniture, sure he was fast on her heels but prepared to risk it. She had to, had to,
had to
get away from him. From
here.

 
Panting, more with fear than the exertion of doing the one-minute mile across the library, Eden grabbed the ornate wrought-iron handle with both hands, and yanked the door open.

 
Chest heaving, she stopped dead in her tracks.

 
A large black panther crouched on the other side of the partially open door. It bared big white teeth, growling low in its throat as it watched her with acid yellow eyes.
God.
Eden slammed the door in its face, then fell back against the heavily carved wood, heart twisted in fear, then stopped cold.

 
“Oh, my God, Gabriel. There’s a—” She was talking to herself.

 
The room was empty.

 
Gabriel shimmered back into the library where Eden was backed against the door. Her eyes went even wider with alarm when he materialized directly in front of her.

 
The long muscles in his cat’s body stretched and bunched as he crouched, watching fear leach what little color she had left in her cheeks. The smell of her skin, the heat of her body was amplified a hundredfold in this form. He snarled, baring his teeth as he inched closer.

 
He couldn’t mate with her like this. Not in this form. But the fact that he
wanted
to put the fear of God into him.

 
“Nice kitty,” she said, not moving. “Oh, God.
Nice kitty
? If you’re here, you’re a pet, right?” Her fingers fumbled for the handle behind her. “Attacking me would be a very, very bad idea.”

 
Her pulse beat a staccato tattoo at the base of her throat as she watched him unblinkingly. Gabriel felt the overpowering desire to lick her there.

 
In the blink of her eye, he morphed back into his human form. Showy, but effective.

 
Her hand covered her mouth and her eyes went wider still as he rose to his feet.

 
Even in human form he wanted to taste her.
Step away from the table.
“Convinced, Doctor?”

 
“My God!” She dropped her hand limply to her side. “How—? Who—?”

 
“I told you what I am.” He made no apologies. His special talents were an asset to T-FLAC. Another tool in his arsenal. Just like his Glock. He was who he was. She didn’t have to like it.

 
“You told me what you
think
you are. There are no such things as wizards. There aren’t.”

 
“My brothers would be surprised to hear that,” he told her dryly. When she listened intently, she had a way of looking at him under her lashes, a small frown between those gorgeous big brown eyes, that made his heart lurch and his blood roar through his veins.

 
For a moment she was distracted. “You have brothers?”

 
“Two. Both wizards. I told you. There have always been three sons in our family. It’s a trait passed down through the generations. Since the sixteen hundreds. I come from a long line of wizards.”

 
“You are so full of crap.”

 
He watched her, wishing like hell things could be different. The fact that they couldn’t should have negated his attraction for her. He couldn’t have her, so wanting, craving, didn’t make a fucking jot of difference. He should be capable of turning off that particular switch. With her, he couldn’t.

 
She moved smoothly on bare feet. And while there was nothing overtly sexy about Dr. Eden Cahill, her glossy hair beckoned his fingers, her too loose jeans cried out to be stripped from her long legs. Her stubborn mouth just begged to be kissed. He cursed the quickening of his body, and got back to business.

 
He stepped closer, and told himself he wouldn’t inhale. The thought made him want to laugh. Or howl at the moon. “One of our most popular presidents was a wizard.”

 
“If you’re doing this to scare the hell out of me, you’re succeeding. I fail to see the point, however. So I’m terrified of you. So what? What the hell does my fear get you, Gabriel Edge? Do you really think that you can scare me into doing what you want?”

 
“Calm down.”

 
“Don’t tell me to damn well calm down! I can do whatever the hell I
feel
like doing, including scream at the top of my lungs if
want
to.”

 
“You’re hysterical.”

 
“Gee. Do you think so? In the space of one day, I’ve been kidnapped, mind…
probed,
coerced, bullied, threatened, and almost freaking
eaten.
So yeah. I’m just a tad on edge.”

 
“Eden—”

 
“Don’t
Eden
me, godd-damn it.”

 
His face a mask, Gabriel hid his abject terror. If she cried now he’d be fucking lost. She was genuinely terrified, and he felt like the asshole he was for being responsible. Jesus.
Just give me what I want and save us both.

 
He wanted to go to her and pull her into his arms. He wanted to hold her and comfort her and tell her he was sorry for putting that look on her face.

 
He wanted to touch his mouth to hers and feel the soft brush of her breath as she welcomed him inside. To accept that brave offer she’d made and take away her embarrassment when he’d had to turn her down. He wanted to touch her petal-smooth skin, and tangle his fingers in her hair.

 
He wanted to strip off her clothes, cup her bottom in both hands and slide her body up his so he could taste her breasts. He wanted to lay her down on the three-hundred-year-old carpet beneath their feet and sheath himself so deep inside her that they wouldn’t know where one of them began and the other ended.

 
The irony wasn’t lost on him that comforting her might very well be the death of her.

 
“Is this how you handle peer challenges at those symposia you attend?” he asked, keeping his voice cold. He saw her breath hitch as she tried to suck back the tears. “Pull the girl card? All big glistening brown eyes and a quivering lower lip?”

 
“Is this
your
version of charm?” she demanded, dashing the moisture from her eyes with the back of her hand. “Because if it is, you
suck
at it.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You find this amusing?” She started walking toward him, a glint of fury showing between her lashes.

 
The urge to swing her up in his arms and carry her upstairs—if he could even wait that long—made a mockery of his self-control. He took a step back, clenching his fists to keep his hands from reaching for her. “What are you doing?”

 
“I want to see if it feels as good as my fantasies when I hit you.”

 
He saw her fist coming toward his face—Jesus, if she punched him that way she’d break every bone in her hand—and did the only thing he could do.

 
He sent her back to her room before she made contact.

 
Eden didn’t throw up the second time Gabriel did whatever he’d done to transport her from one place to another. For one thing she was so completely furious, she could barely pace the bedroom she’d left half an hour before. Too furious to consider her mode of transportation.

 
Pressing a hand to the agitation in her stomach, she walked. Back and forth, back and forth.

 
She didn’t know what to believe.

 
She didn’t know who she could trust.

 
Shaken by what had just transpired in the library, she finally wore herself out and climbed into bed fully clothed, and pulled the covers up. She knew she’d never sleep. Too much data was swirling around in her brain.

 
The fire he’d produced on his palm could have been a magician’s trick. Seeing a panther materialize into Gabriel, even if it was an illusion, was pretty damned effective, though. There was nothing wrong with her eyesight. She’d seen what she’d seen. Gabriel had been behind the closed doors of the library with her, but when she’d slammed the door behind her just seconds later, he was gone.