Grim with rage, Luther caught her arm. “Come on.”

  “No.” Gaby meant to shout it, but the word emerged as a breathless whisper. She couldn’t just go. Something was happening—or had happened. Why else would she have had the call, only to have the summons ripped away?

  Damn it, she wanted to fight. She wanted to be sent after the evil.

  Regaining more strength by the moment, she wrenched her arm away from Luther.

  He crowded into her and pushed her up against a parked truck. “Do you want to go at it right here, Gaby? Right now? With everyone watching to see? You want to kick my ass? Fine. Let’s go, lady.”

  “What are you talking about?” Gaby didn’t give a shit who watched, but surely Luther did. For crying out loud, he was an officer of the law. He couldn’t go slugging it out with women in the street.

  “I’m talking about me being fed up. With you. With all your crazy bullshit and the impossible runaround you put me through.”

  “I don’t put you through anything!”

  He leaned close enough that she smelled the coffee on his breath. “Either you come with me now, right now, or we settle it here.”

  Gaby bristled. “I’d demolish you.”

  “We’ll find out, won’t we?”

  Damn it, she didn’t want to demolish him.

  “What’s the matter, little girl?” he taunted. “Got something against public displays?”

  “Actually, yeah. Someone is watching, someone not nice. Someone—”

  “Evil. I know. Your arch nemesis.” He half laughed, saying, “A villain of monumental proportions.”

  Hurt squashed all other comments. He ridiculed her. Finally. Gaby knew it would come, but…she had hoped it wouldn’t.

  “No, Luther. There’s no one.” Gently, she pressed against his chest. “I’m ready to go if you are.”

  So frustrated that he shook with it, Luther leaned away.

  Gaby stepped around him.

  “Where are you going?”

  She didn’t look at Luther. She didn’t dare. If she did, she seriously thought she might cry. “Back to my apartment.” She waited for him a few feet away. “That’s where you wanted me to go, right?”

  “Gaby…”

  “It’s all right.” She couldn’t bear to hear his excuses. “You don’t have to say anything.”

  “Goddamn it.”

  That got her frowning. “Don’t blame God for your bad behavior.”

  He was so quiet that Gaby couldn’t not look at him. She turned her head—and there stood Luther, his head down, his middle finger and thumb pressed into his eye sockets.

  He looked to be in so much pain that Gaby softened. What did it matter if he thought her a joke? That just made him normal. Lucky him. “C’mon, Luther. It’s all right.”

  “No, it’s not.” He strode up to her. “Here.”

  He held out the gift bag. How the hell had he hung on to that in the midst of everything else? “What is it?”

  “Open it and see.”

  She looked around, and sure enough, they’d drawn the attention of a few people. Two men stood in front of a liquor store, watching them. The abandoned hooker sat on the curb, gazing in their direction. An old gray-haired lady looked out her second-story window.

  “Not here.”

  “Okay.” Luther put his hand at the small of her back and urged her forward. “Let’s go.”

  “Back to my apartment?”

  “No. To my car.”

  Dread slowed her step. “Luther, if you’re still wanting that date—”

  “Just shut up and walk, Gaby. I have some things to say to you.”

  “Fine. Whatever.”

  Luther stopped, put a fist beneath her chin to elevate her face, and kissed her.

  That kiss renewed her. The second he pulled away, she missed him.

  “Every time you smart off, I’m kissing you.”

  Regaining her wits, she said, “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

  “I’m on to you, Gaby. You don’t want to hurt me.”

  She snorted.

  “Admit it. You boast about all the damage you can do, but you don’t really want to do it.” He laced his fingers in hers. “Not to me.”

  “Obnoxious, conceited—”

  “Correct. Intuitive. Astute.”

  “All right,” she said, cutting him off. “So I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “But if you push me hard enough, I will.”

  During their exchange, they’d covered a lot of ground and Gaby found herself in front of the apartment building.

  Luther said, “Here’s my car,” and he opened the passenger door for her.

  Feeling like a freakish Cinderella, Gaby climbed in and put the gift bag in her lap. Luther waited, and when she just looked at him, he leaned in and fastened her seat belt—and kissed her again.

  “Stop that!”

  “No.” He shut the door and circled the hood. After he got behind the wheel, connected his own seat belt, and started the car, he said, “Now.”

  Gaby looked at the gift bag, thinking he meant for her to open it.

  Instead, he said, “I’m sorry.”

  She just looked at him.

  “Very sorry. I know you think I was making fun of your assertions that evil exists, but I wasn’t.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Gaby.” He leaned over and, again, caught her chin. “This morning, I got called to a foster home where the children were kept in cages. Then this afternoon, I had to investigate a shooting at a convenience store. The robber had the cash, was almost out the door, but turned back at the last second and shot the cashier in the head—just for the hell of it. She was a mother of a toddler and she died.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Luther nodded. “I know evil exists, Gaby. I know it’s out there, in unimaginable proportions, twisted in ways that I don’t want to think about but can’t deny. There are depraved, corrupt, ugly crimes committed every day, against men, women, and children. The lack of morals, or any sane description, devastates me, but I still have to deal with it.”

  Gaby had nothing to say to all that. “You didn’t believe me.”

  “Actually, that’s not it.” He put the car in gear and pulled away. “I was just frustrated. You know, for a change, I wanted to see you have as much intensity directed at me as you always have focused on pursuing some evil incarnate.”

  Rage simmered. “You were…jealous?”

  “A real kicker, huh?”

  “That’s pathetic!”

  He worked his jaw. “Tell me about it.”

  Damn it. Gaby twisted to stare out the window. Scenery passed in a blur. Her thoughts cramped. Her heart ached. “I’m sorry.”

  “I have no idea if you mean that or not.” How could he know when she jumped around so much?

  Reaching for his thigh, Gaby said, “Luther? I am sorry. But I can’t help who I am.”

  “Sure you can.” His hand covered hers, keeping it on his thigh, flattening her palm there. “Let me in, Gaby. That’d be a start.”

  No, it’d be an end. To him.

  She couldn’t tell him so. She’d hurt him enough already. Once she settled things here, when the evil was destroyed, she’d slip out in the quiet of the night.

  That’d be best for everyone.

  Gaby pulled her hand away. “Do you want me to open this gift or not?”

  “Yeah, go ahead.”

  She pulled the bag open and peeked inside—and saw a small rectangular machine with wires coming out of it. “It plays music, right?”

  “Yeah. It’s a digital audio player.”

  She lifted it out. “I’ve seen people walking around with these plugged into their ears.”

  “I took a chance,” Luther said, “and saved a bunch of songs into the memory for you. I hope you like them.”

  Speechless, Gaby just looked at it. Then, unable to help herself, she fiddled around with it until she got it on and could listen. Rambunctious beats vibrated through the machine with incredible power. “Wow.”

  “You like?”

  She found a natural rhythm and bobbed her head to the music. “Yeah, I do.”

  He smiled. “There’s another gift in there, too.”

  “More?”

  “Go on. Let me know what you think.”

  Unnerved by his generosity, Gaby again rummaged in the bag, digging below the pretty tissue paper. Her hand found a box and she lifted it out.

  “Don’t get pissed,” Luther said. “Let me explain first, okay?”

  Hearing that got her irritated right off. “What did you do?”

  “Nothing. And it’s not symbolic. Just…something that I thought would look right on you.”

  Oh God. He hadn’t. He couldn’t have. Gaby opened the box and found that, in fact, he had.

  “A necklace?”

  “A choker. The black leather is very you,” Luther teased.

  Her brows pinched down. “There’s a silver cross.”

  “Not to ward off evil, I swear. Just because it’s pretty.” He reached over and trailed a finger down her cheek. “It reminds me of you.”

  Gaby went speechless.

  “The leather choker is edgy and sexy. But the cross is so small and delicate—and regardless of your feelings on the matter, it represents good.”

  Gaby could only stare at him. “And somehow that matches your image of me?”

  “Yeah.” He kept glancing between her and the road. “Do you like it?”

  Actually…“It is pretty, I guess. But not too pretty.”

  “It was made by a local craftsman to my specification. So there isn’t another one like it anywhere.”

  Great. That’d mean if she wore it, it’d be as identifying as a scar or noticeable tattoo.

  And maybe that had been Luther’s purpose all along.

  But for right now, Gaby wanted to pretend otherwise, she wanted to believe that he’d given her both gifts because somewhere in the depth of his soul, he actually liked and understood her. “Thank you.”

  “Will you wear it?”

  Shrugging, Gaby wrapped the leather around her throat and connected the link in back. She tucked her hair behind her ears and turned to face Luther. “Well? What do you think?”

  His gaze caressed her. “I think it looks even sexier on you than I imagined.”

  “Yeah, well I think you must’ve been too long without or something, because you’ve got sex on the brain big-time.”

  “Me? I’m not the one who was ogling a hooker giving a blowjob in a parked car.”

  Gaby went rigid—until she realized Luther was teasing. Then she relaxed again. “It was educational.”

  “But also revolting?”

  “Pretty much.” She idly ran her fingers along the music player dials. “It wasn’t at all as nice as when you’d described it.”

  “Right.” Luther cleared his throat. “Time to change the subject again.”

  “Or you’ll get hard?”

  “Exactly.” Luther pulled up to the curb and put the car in park. He took a few seconds to compose himself, then turned off the engine and pulled out the keys. “We’re here.”

  Gaby looked out the window. They were in front of the theater.

  Granted, it was a cheapie, rundown theater—which suited her, but still…

  “They only play old movies, and this is one I really like.”

  “The Big Easy,” Gaby read on the lighted display. “Never heard of it.”

  “Cop show. Well, about dirty cops. But Ellen Barkin is a favorite of mine. She’s super-sexy in this role.”

  Gaby scowled over that disclosure. “I’ve never been to the theater.”

  Glancing her way, Luther opened his seat belt. “I figured if you hadn’t watched much TV, you probably hadn’t taken in movies either. This place is low key and relaxed, but they have fresh popcorn and a variety of candy and colas, so I thought we’d start with it. If you like the experience, we can try stadium seating at a nicer place with a first-run movie next time.”

  Next time.

  Luther made an awful lot of assumptions. But then, she’d admitted so much to him, how could he not?

  “This place is fine.” Or at least, better than the alternative he’d just described. She wasn’t the type of woman who fit into “nicer” places.

  Gaby started to open her door, but Luther got there before she could.

  Though she didn’t need it, he helped her out and took the music player from her. “You clip it onto your jeans like this.”

  Heat and age had curled the denim waistband so that it rolled out away from her skin. Going under her shirt, Luther slipped his fingers inside the waistband to attach the player. His skin was warm, his touch firm, and suddenly Gaby realized he was looking at her.

  She didn’t meet his gaze, but chose instead to watch his fingers. He drew his hands up, opening his palms against the bare flesh of her waist. His big thumbs nearly met over her navel.

  “You are so slender.”

  “You mean skinny,” she said, noting the thickness of his wrists, the sprinkling of hair on his arms.

  “Mort said you haven’t eaten.”

  “Mort needs to mind his own damn business.”

  Her surliness must have broken the mood for him. He shook his head and said, “Come on.” Luther pulled one hand away, but left the other there in a casual embrace against her bare skin as he led her into the theater. “They serve burgers, too. We’ll both get one.”

  To Gaby’s surprise, her stomach growled, making Luther chuckle. “I guess I’m hungry after all.”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  They went straight to the concession stand. Above the scent of popping corn, it smelled of grease and salt and onions. Gaby’s mouth watered. She was suddenly so hungry, she didn’t even argue when Luther paid for their bounty by himself.

  Laden with burgers, fries, drinks, popcorn, and candy, they made their way to their seats. Only two other couples were inside, and the lights were already low, the previews already playing.

  “This is kind of creepy,” Gaby whispered as she paused in the dark, unsure where to go.

  “Relax. Eat. Enjoy.” Luther chose seats for them in the back, in a corner. As Gaby got settled, being careful not to spill anything, he whispered, “This is the make-out corner.”

  The flickering screen lit his face, showing his wolfish smile. “Really?”

  He laughed. “I thought that’d get your interest. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if lust hadn’t been consummated here a few times.”

  Eyeing the folding seats, Gaby asked, “Is that even possible?”

  “Very. It just takes a little ingenuity.”

  “And you have loads of ingenuity?”

  “Right now, yeah. But I want you to enjoy the movie and the food, so we’ll put off this discussion for another time.”

  Just like Luther to get her curiosity roused, then shut down. “But—”

  He kissed her. “Shhh. Watch the movie.” He settled his arm around her and, as if he’d read her thoughts, added in a whisper close to her ear, “After the movie, I promise, we’ll pick up on the conversation again.”

  Oh. Well then. She supposed that’d be okay. “I’m holding you to that.” With that declaration made, Gaby settled back in her seat, propped her feet on the seat back in front of her, and absorbed the unique experience of watching a movie on the big screen.

  Chapter 16

  When the credits began to roll, Gaby roused herself from her lethargic pose and mellow mood. Wow. Never had she felt so peaceful, so…outside herself and her annoying insights. Who knew a little dose of unreality could be so relaxing?

  Theater lights flickered on, pushing away the darkness. She turned to Luther only to find him studying her. “What?”

  Rather than share her mellow disposition, an earthy appetite intensified his hard-edged allure. “I like seeing you like this.”

  “This?”

  He looked at her mouth. “Soft.”

  That got her back up. “I’m not. Ever.”

  “Yeah you are, Gaby,” he insisted, and his gaze dropped somewhere below her chin and above her knees. “In lots of places.” Gaby snorted. “Now you just sound corny.” But he didn’t. Not really.

  Luther smiled, ready to say something—and his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Resigned, he settled back. “Damn, I’m sorry. But even off duty, I need to take this.”

  While he lifted out the phone, Gaby stood and let her seat fold. “No problem.”

  Into the phone, he said, “Hello?” He listened, frowned, and a second later, his gaze settled on Gaby again.

  “Hang on, Ann.” Covering the mouthpiece, he searched Gaby’s face. “I need to take this in private.”

  So he could talk to Ann. Gaby’s lip curled. “Yeah. Right.” She made no attempt to hide her scorn. “I need some fresh air now, anyway.” Shoving past him, she said, “I’ll be hanging out front.”

  “You won’t wander off?”

  Like a halfwit? Or a child? “If I decide to leave, I’ll tell you first.” As she walked away, she heard Luther snarl something, then go back to his conversation on the phone.

  Grumbling her way through the theater lobby, Gaby shoved open the front doors and stepped out into the drowning humidity.

  She paced.

  Up one side of the sidewalk and then back again. Disgusted with herself, she dropped down to sit on the dirty curb and stared at her feet.

  Jealous.

  That’s what she was. And stupid. Real stupid.

  Why should she give a damn if the detective liked Ann? It wasn’t as if the two of them had any future together, anyway. And no one in her right mind would expect Luther Cross to play in celibacy. Not long.

  Gaby was deep into her own misery when from somewhere to her left, a small voice said, “Hi.”

  Jerking her head around so fast that she almost gave herself whiplash, Gaby eyed the girl—the one she’d told Mort she wanted to see—standing on the sidewalk behind her.

  “You!” Gaby couldn’t credit such a coincidence. Hell, she didn’t believe it. No way.

  What did it mean?