She huffed and gave him an exasperated look. “What?”
“What do I have to do to make it up to you?” he pressed. “We have to work together, Elle. You can’t be mad at me forever.”
“Bet me.” She shouldered her way past him, storming out of the courtroom.
Gabe heaved another sigh and ran a hand over the blond spikes of his high-and-tight before following, determined to win her over and insinuate himself back into her good graces. He just didn’t have any frigging clue how to go about it…
* * *
Damn Gabe Dawson and his arrogance!
Nothing ever changed.
Well, she had news for Fairfield County’s golden boy. She wasn’t buying what he was selling. And she’d be damned if she was going to be just another notch on Gabe Dawson’s belt. She’d leave that role to the badge bunnies who threw themselves constantly at the handsome deputy.
Fortunately, he didn’t seem to recall the night of Chris’s death, when she’d taken him home and had been stupid enough to find herself in his arms in the best make-out session of her life. She could only imagine what it’d be like when he was completely sober. And she had imagined ever since. Often. Which seriously pissed her off.
Elle huffed in disgust as she stormed away from Gabe, not sure if she was angrier with him or with herself. To think she’d ever found him even remotely attractive! Clearly, she’d been just like every other girl who’d been taken in by that sexy smile and those aqua eyes that sparkled with mischief. Thank God she’d come to her senses before things had gone too far.
She’d had a lapse in judgment that night, that was all. And the way he’d been since then just confirmed she’d been right to put the brakes on. So no matter how many dimpled smiles he threw her way, she wasn’t about to let him off the hook for jeopardizing her case because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.
“Elle! Wait up!”
She increased her pace, lifting her chin higher, determined to make it very clear what he could do with his apologies and dinner invitations.
But her pace faltered when she reached the courthouse doors that led out to the steps where reporters were waiting. She hated dealing with the media, hated having to give a statement about her success or failure. Her stomach twisted into knots, and for a brief moment, she entertained the idea of waiting for Gabe to catch up and join her as she addressed the press. He had a way with the public, could charm them all with that confident, commanding air of his that had them all eating out of his hand.
But then she set her jaw and shoved open the doors, determined to meet them all head-on. She’d worked too damned hard to get where she was to hand over the reins because of her distaste for dealing with reporters. She’d never once backed down from a challenge—she sure as hell wasn’t about to start now.
The moment she reached the courthouse steps, the reporters moved in en masse, shouting their questions all at once, trying to be heard over the others in their throng. She held up her hand in a request for silence and opened her mouth to give the statement she’d rehearsed in her head when she suddenly caught sight of a face in the crowd that sent a shiver down her spine.
Mark Monroe, the brother of the man they’d just convicted, stood a few feet behind the reporters, his face twisted into a furious mask of hatred. He’d been implicated in the murder with his brother as an accessory after the fact, but they’d had insufficient evidence to charge him. He’d been popping up periodically ever since, glaring daggers at her, his demeanor vaguely threatening but never crossing a line that could give her a reason to go to the police. He wasn’t the first angry family member she’d ever had to deal with, and he certainly wouldn’t be the last.
Still, there was something in the man’s expression this time that made her glad of the crowd of reporters surrounding her. The fact that he was wearing an old jacket in spite of the oppressive summer heat momentarily set off alarms in her head until she remembered it was the same jacket he’d worn every day in court. Nothing to be worried about. It was over. The trial was over. And finally she could sleep well, knowing she’d put Chris’s killer behind bars.
Donning a genuine smile, she dragged her gaze away from his and back to the dozen or so faces eagerly awaiting her statement. But even as she began talking, she could feel the weight of Mark Monroe’s gaze on her, felt the heat of his anger that prickled her skin in vague but persistent warning.
* * *
Gabe didn’t know why in the hell it bothered him so much that Elle thought he was a first-class loser. But it did. It rankled him like nothing else ever had. He normally didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. If someone had a problem with him, he was more than happy to offer a cordial invitation to kiss his ass.
But when Elle had given him that pointed look of disdain that could turn even the most hardened criminal into a quivering mass of fucked-up, the foundation of his normally unshakable confidence was left a little cracked. The woman had a way of bringing him to his knees without even trying. She always had—although she didn’t know it.
He’d been completely knocked on his ass the first day he’d seen her. She’d been just an awkward teenage girl who still hadn’t even come into her full beauty, but he could see it there, could sense the strength and intelligence in her intense gaze. He’d felt like she was the only one who could see right through him, past all the bullshit. And it’d scared the hell out of him. At eighteen, he hadn’t known how to handle someone getting past his cocky teenage facade. So he’d avoided her, all but ignored her—at least, publicly.
But that wasn’t an option now. Their careers threw them together on a regular basis, whether they liked it or not. And her effect on him had turned out to be exactly what he’d anticipated. But instead of being afraid of Elle getting too close to the person he truly was, Gabe had been surprised to discover he craved it. He wanted her to see that side of him no one else had access to, that vulnerable part of him he kept safely locked away.
What the hell was that all about?
“Where’s the fire?”
Gabe’s head snapped toward the direction of his older brother’s voice. Tom was leaning against the railing of the mezzanine that overlooked the courthouse’s massive marble foyer. The courthouse was one of only two buildings in Fairfield County that could boast being mentioned in architectural magazines for the beauty of its design. While it all seemed a little over the top to Gabe and made him afraid to even frigging sneeze for fear of knocking over an overpriced bust of some long-dead president, Tom seemed right at home among all the stateliness.
But then nothing ever seemed to rattle his brother. The guy was annoyingly levelheaded, which made him pretty much the last person Gabe wanted to see just then. If he said a word about his frustrations, Tom would offer some kind of sage advice that Gabe knew he’d be better off taking but wouldn’t because it came from his brother.
“Hey,” Gabe muttered, jerking his chin at Tom in greeting. “Need to catch up with Elle.”
Tom nodded, falling into step beside him. “Ah.”
