Bulletproof Bride. Diana Duncan

      He sobered. “These guys will kill you with less thought than taking out the garbage. Gregson’s isn’t the first suspicious body to be found downriver with a new view out the back of his head. I doubt they’ll risk attracting attention with a public hit, but if they catch you alone, all bets are off.”

      She scowled. “But my wedding arrangements.”

      “If they succeed, you won’t have to worry about that.” He scowled. “Or anything else.”

      “I refuse to let those criminals ruin my wedding.” She crossed her arms over her chest. She was so close to achieving her dream. Nothing short of a nuclear war would stop her now. “You’ll have to compromise.”

      “I could tie you up and lock you in a safe house, you know.” His sober gaze didn’t look like he was joking.

      “You wouldn’t dare.” Would he?

      “Don’t kid yourself. If I could guarantee your safety, you’d already be there. Okay, I’ll figure out the wedding stuff.” He shuddered. “But stick close and do what I say, when I say.”

      She squared her shoulders. “To a point,” she warned darkly. “How am I supposed to explain you to my friends and my fiancé?” How would Dale react to the news that she was living with another man? During their two-year relationship, she’d never seen him ruffled. A purely female part of her hoped he’d respond with at least a small show of jealousy. Men in love were supposed to feel proprietary, weren’t they?

      “Later.” He glanced at the complicated gauges on his watch. “First we take the chopper back to the city.”

      During the trip, he grilled her about the checks and the incident with Gregson. But she thoroughly enjoyed the ride, and his company.

      When they landed at the Riverside airport, he turned to her with a knowing smile. “Nice, huh? The first time, fear of the unknown takes away from some of the fun. The second ride is usually much better.” He arched a dark brow. “It doesn’t take long to get addicted to flying.”

      She willed away the annoyingly delicious shimmer caused by his double entendre. “Are we taking the bike?”

      “No. I’ve got a Viper here at the airport.”

      “What happened to the Jaguar?”

      “Using different vehicles keeps them guessing. I’ve also changed plates on the ’Vette, so the car can’t be traced to the robbery. Here’s the plan. Your place, fifteen minutes to pack, then we’re bugging out to my house.”

      “I can’t pack in fifteen minutes!” And she needed a lot more time to get used to the idea of living with Gabe.

      “You’d better, because ready or not, I’m hauling your cute little six out of there.”

      “You said that before. What’s a six, or do I want to know?”

      He chuckled. “Military slang. Tail, rear end—”

      She held up a hand. “I get the point.”

      They climbed into a white Viper with tinted windows and Gabe whisked them to her apartment with his usual Mach speed.

      She reached for the handle, but he stopped her. “I check it out first.” He thrust out his hand. “Keys?”

      She pulled them from her purse and slapped them into his palm. She might owe him her life, but his macho routine set her teeth on edge.

      Gabe opened his door. “If anything happens, hit the horn.” He sauntered around the front bumper with confident grace. In the blink of an eye, he disappeared into the bushes.

      Minutes passed. Tessa fidgeted. Should he be taking so long? Had something happened? Maybe she should go find him. She gripped the door handle.

      Before she could open the door, Gabe reappeared and swung it wide. “Are you the only tenant in this building?”

      “Yes. There’s a small music store on the ground floor but it closes at four. I live in the loft above.”

      He shifted into “doing business mode.” Body taut, his alert gaze scanned the area. With his right hand tucked under his black leather jacket, he escorted her into the elevator. There was no amusement in him now, only deadly purpose. She shivered. Under his carefree exterior lurked a competent, dangerous cop.

      The elevator doors slid open. A massive gun appeared in his hand. He preceded her into the one-room loft. “Uh, Tessa? I hate to tell you this, but unless you’re a really messy housekeeper, somebody tossed your place.”

      Her possessions lay strewn about the apartment, everything viciously rifled, and then discarded like worthless trash. Tessa’s knees wobbled and she clutched the kitchen counter for support.

      “Easy, sweetheart.” Gabe grasped her arm to steady her, his eyes dark with concern. “It’s okay.”

      “Those criminals were in my home. They pawed through my things—”

      “They’re long gone.” He squeezed her arm reassuringly. “I’ll make a call and have this cleaned up in two hours.”

      “But—”

      Something thudded against the window.

      Before she could turn, his foot swept Tessa’s legs out from under her. His arms wrapped around her waist and took her down. Holding her on top of him, he hit the floor. In a split second, he rolled her beneath him, the back of her head cradled in his palm. “Don’t move,” he whispered.

      Heart hammering, she lay under his taut body. His clean, male scent assailed her senses. She fought to gasp in air, but her breathlessness had nothing to do with his weight on top of her and everything to do with his nearness.

      His gun edged past her cheek. He pressed her face into his shoulder. “Shh. Don’t move.”

      A chorus of plaintive meows shattered the tense silence.

      Relieved laughter burst out of her. “Andrew, Lloyd and Webber.”

      He glanced at her, disbelief etched on his features. “Andrew, Lloyd and Webber?”

      “The music store owner’s cats.” She grinned. “When she leaves, they climb the fire escape and beg for snacks.”

      “Cats.” Gabe breathed out a sigh. His body relaxed.

      Intimately joined from shoulder to hip, Tessa stared up at him. The golden afternoon light gilded the planes of his face, emphasizing the cleft in his chin. Her gaze roamed over his sculpted mouth. Remembering his brief, exciting kiss, she licked her suddenly dry lips.

      He groaned. She jerked her gaze up and saw his smoky green stare fastened on her mouth.

      “Relax, sweetheart,” he urged, his voice a hot, husky whisper as he touched his lips to hers. His fingers lightly traced her cheekbones, caressed the curves of her ears. No one had ever touched her with such gentleness, such aching tenderness. Her body melted like warm honey.

      His moist breath feathered over her temples, and her lashes floated down in languid surrender. She was rewarded by a soft kiss on each eyelid. His lips journeyed along her jawline, nibbled behind her ears and down her neck, heating her body, heating her blood. She basked in the delicious sensation. Her mouth parted in a sigh.

      Gabe teased her lower lip with his velvet tongue. He bit gently, then suckled the sensitized flesh, wringing a moan from her. His mouth tempted, enticed, seduced—and she wanted more. She opened to him and his tongue glided inside, stroking slow and gentle against hers, inviting her response. Her stomach fluttered at the minty taste of him, cool, and yet at the same time, unbearably hot. Fire scorched her nerve endings, every inch of her alive and quivering. More alive than she’d ever been.

      Tentatively, she returned his kiss, her tongue meeting his in a seductive duet. His breathing quickened, and he explored her mouth with a sensual, thorough expertise that shattered