He wasn't that stupid.
Especially not after seeing how she held that knife—with intent to use it.
Familiar, tender, with love and barely restrained eagerness.
She had plans to use her knife, and soon. He had no doubt.
Gaby was a woman who had to act. By whatever strange force possessed her—and he had a feeling it possessed her right now—she had skill and amazing ability, and not using those attributes would be as contrary to her as not breathing would be to him.
She remained silent, maybe even… stoic, on the remainder of the drive. He didn't like it. She had a pinched look about her that she tried hard to disguise, but he knew her too well.
How he knew her so well, Luther couldn't say, but almost from the onset he'd been keenly attuned to her. Right now she was separate from him, drawn into herself by some odd suffering that he couldn't comprehend.
Even after he parked and got out, she didn't budge a single eyelash. At least, Luther noted with a smile, she'd conceded to his courteous tendencies.
But then, given how she started when he opened the door, he decided she'd only been too involved in her own ruminations to give him a second thought.
Gabrielle Cody had the uncanny ability to put him entirely out of her mind.
If only he could do the same with her.
Eyes vague with an indefinable emotion, she got out of the car and started past him.
Realizing that she didn't even plan to say good night, Luther stood there in amazement.
At the last second, Gaby caught herself and, with her back to him, paused. She looked over her shoulder and, really seeing him again, gave him a thorough once-over. She came back.
Solemn and sincere, she stared at him. "The movie was great."
A distinct lack of enthusiasm belied the sentiment. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Gaby."
Her gaze went to his mouth. "Thanks for the digital audio player, too, and the food, and… everything." She licked her lips, and in that instant, a veil of pain lifted from her expression.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a wet one right on his mouth. What she lacked in finesse, she definitely made up for with enthusiasm.
Luther's hands automatically went to her waist. Drawn in by her, he turned his head a bit for a better fit and dragged her closer.
Standing in front of her apartment, he was very aware of the people milling around them on the sidewalk and the likelihood of Mort stepping out at any minute.
At least, for about two seconds he was that aware.
When Gaby licked over his lips, he opened for her—and lost all sense of time and place.
Luckily, she had more willpower.
Pushing back, she stared at him. "What do you plan to do now?"
Luther's thoughts tried to pull together without success. "About?"
Her eyelids twitched; her pain had returned. "The body." Typical of Gaby when she wanted to hide something, she jutted out her hip in attitude and quirked her mouth. "The corpse."
Seeing her like this, so determined to bear her woes alone, made a missing corpse almost inconsequential to Luther. Concern brought his brows together. "I'll take care of it."
"How? Where will you start? Are you going back to the hospital tonight?"
An ugly suspicion tamped down on his lust. Hands still on her waist, Luther back-stepped her against his car and leaned in to impose his will. "Did you kiss me just to get information from me?"
Her droll look of annoyance almost amused him. "So now you're accusing me of being a femme fatale? What are you, an idiot?" A very line trembling coursed through her body. "Do you even realize how stupid that sounds'?"
To halt the rapid-fire insults, Luther smashed two fingers over her mouth. "All right. Then why did you kiss me?"
She slapped his hand away. "Because I like kissing you. If you didn't want me to, you should have spoken up and said so."
Luther wasn't sure, but she sounded convincing enough. "I like kissing you, too. But you have a lot to learn about the etiquette of kissing."
The insult infuriated her beyond measure. "Fine. I'll try to get some lessons in before I bother kissing you again."
Luther knew she said it to hit a nerve.
He knew she baited him.
And still, his temper struck a high point. "We already had this discussion, Gaby." Struggling to keep his voice low and moderate, Luther stepped back from her. "Anything you want to learn, you'll learn from me."
She shoved her face in close to his. "I'll practice anywhere, with anyone I choose."
The thought of her with another man rattled him so fiercely that he might have lost it there and then. But as Gaby spoke, she went through that peculiar transformation again.
The skin around her eyes tightened; the hue of her irises grew brighter, her pupils bigger. Beneath the pale skin of her throat, frantic energy palpated.
Her scent was stronger, more captivating.
Though the actual physicality of her body didn't change, her strength was more defined to the naked eye.
In the usual course of things, Gaby looked like a ragtag, bedraggled beanpole of a girl.
At this moment, Luther saw an Amazon able to take on the world.
To gentle her, calm her, he brushed the backs of his fingers along that wild pulse beat in her throat. "You're very soft, Gaby."
The razor-sharp essence thawed. Her eyes focused; her lips compressed. "You're such an ass."
Glad to have her back, Luther smiled. "Yeah, I know."
"You need to find that missing body."
"Yeah." Running a hand through his hair, Luther decided it was past time to get back on track. He glanced at his watch. "Ann is meeting me at the hospital in a few minutes."
Gaby's expression went flat. "Well, whoopee for you. I'm sure you two will have a grand old time."
It felt odd to fix an emotion like jealousy to a woman like Gaby.
Odd, and exhilarating.
"We'll be working, Gaby. I already told you, there's nothing personal between us."
"Like I care."
"You care." Where Gaby was concerned, Luther felt certain of very little, but that much he knew. He kissed her again before she could dispute his claim. "I can do my job more efficiently if I know you'll stay out of trouble tonight."
She stared him in the eyes and said, "I always stay out of trouble."
That steadfast gaze gave him pause. If she had hoped to convince him, she accomplished just the opposite.
"Now." Gaby shoved him back. "Stop dawdling and go do whatever it is cops do to solve heinous crimes before more heinous crimes happen."
Turning to lean on the car, Luther crossed his arms and watched her retreat. He saw the discomfort in her usual graceful gait, the rigid way she held her shoulders. "Want me to come by later and tell you what I find?"
"Tell me in the morning," She kept on walking, over the sidewalk, up from the front steps, and to the door. She dug out a key. "It's late, and I'm tired."
Now he knew she lied. Gaby wouldn't admit to a weakness of any kind, not even exhaustion. "I'll be keeping an eye on you. Gaby."
"From the hospital?" She stepped inside and turned toward him to say, "Good luck with that."
The door shut with finality, and Luther took only two seconds to make up his mind. Finding a corpse and solving a crime was important. He wouldn't neglect his obligations and duty. But she was right—he couldn't very well watch her from so far away.
And she definitely needed supervision. She needed protection.
Whether she wanted to admit it or not.
Retrieving his cell phone, Luther put in a call to Ann.
She answered on the first ring. "Detective Kennedy."
Luther circled the hood of his car and got in. "It's Luther. Where are you?"
"At the hospital. Why?"
"Something's come up—"