But this thing with Charles was different. This wasn’t mere physical attraction, as inconvenient as thatwould’ve been considering the scrutiny I was under. No, this was something far more dangerous.
I actually liked the man.
I liked how hard he worked and his enthusiasm for baking. I liked how his whole face lit up when he talked about something he was passionate about, and how he got flustered when he admitted to reading romance novels. I liked his kindness and his genuine concern for people like Steve, even when he was in danger himself. Christ, I even liked doing dishes with him.
When was the last time I’d enjoyed something as mundane as washing plates? When had I ever wanted to linger in someone’s kitchen to be near them? The answer was simple and terrifying: never.
“You’re looking remarkably contemplative for someone who’s supposed to be checking security.”
I spun around, my hand instinctively moving toward the knife at my belt before I recognized the voice. Gabriel stepped out of the shadows like he’d materialized from the darkness itself, which he probably had. The bastard always did enjoy a dramatic entrance.
“Jesus fecking Christ on a bicycle,” I hissed, pressing a hand to my chest where my heart was trying to break free from my ribcage. “Do you get some kind of sick pleasure from scaring the shit out of me?”
“More than you’d think.” Gabriel flashed me that infuriating smirk of his. Tonight, he was dressed in what looked like a designer tracksuit—because, apparently, even celestial beings had embraced athleisure. The effect should’ve been casual, but somehow he still managed to look like he could destroy me with a raised eyebrow.
“What do you want this time?” I asked, trying to keepthe irritation out of my voice. “And please tell me you’re not here to critique my dinner conversation skills.”
“Actually, I’m here with an update on your case.” Gabriel’s expression grew serious. “Carlo’s putting the pieces together faster than we anticipated. He’s already made a list of everyone who was at the banquet hall when he had his little chat with Chan.”
Ice settled in my stomach. “How long do we have?”
“He’ll start making house calls tomorrow.” Gabriel studied my face. “Are you prepared for that?”
“Of course I’m prepared. It’s my fecking job.” I crossed my arms. “But I need you to put protection on Solstice and Steve.”
Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “The flower shop owner and the banquet hall employee? Why?”
“Because Charles cares about them,” I said without thinking, then immediately wanted to kick myself. “If Carlo goes after them first, it could compromise Charles’s safety. Emotionally, I mean. He’d do something stupid to try to help them.”
“Emotionally,” Gabriel repeated, and there was something in his tone I didn’t like. “How thoughtful of you to consider your protectee’s emotional well-being.”
“It’s a good strategy. Keep the people he cares about safe, and he’s more likely to follow my instructions instead of running off to play hero.”
Gabriel was quiet for a long moment, studying me with those too-knowing eyes. “Fine. I’ll arrange for discreet surveillance on both targets. But don’t expect dedicated protection details. You know we don’t have the resources.”
Relief flooded through me. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. I’m here to remind you of the rules, Eamon. All of them.”
The way he said it made my skin crawl. “I know the bloody rules.”
“Do you? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re getting awfully cozy with your assignment.” Gabriel stepped closer, and I could smell his ridiculously expensive cologne again. “Cooking dinner together, sharing personal stories, almost kissing in the kitchen…”
My blood turned to ice water. “You’ve been watching us?”
“I’ve been monitoring the situation,” Gabriel corrected. “It’s my job to ensure my angels are performing their duties appropriately.”
“Like you did with the iPad. You’ve been spying on me through that bloody tablet, keeping tabs on everything I do on there.”
Gabriel’s smirk widened into a full grin. “Took you long enough to figure it out. Rafael bet you’d realize it within a week and Michael said two months, but I knew it would be at least six. Turns out, it was almost a year.”
Humiliation burned through me like acid. “You made bets on how long it would take me to realize you were violating my privacy?”
“Privacy? You’re an angel on assignment, not a teenager with a diary. Besides, it’s all standard monitoring equipment. Nothing we haven’t been doing for centuries except with better technology.”
“Standard monitoring doesn’t usually involve watching people wank to porn,” I snapped, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
Gabriel’s expression softened slightly. “For what it’s worth, we don’t watch the private stuff. The system flags it and automatically blocks recording. We’re not perverts, Eamon—just supervisors doing our jobs.”
