front of him. She'd clipped her hair back, ruthlessly subduing her lush copper curls. An oversize, drab gray dress hid her spectacular figure. Clunky "sensible" shoes completed the ensemble.
Desire arrowed through his gut, his skin hot and tight. Damn, what was it about her? He'd never had a reaction like this to a woman. Oh, yeah, he was familiar with lust. This was something more.
He'd wanted Tessa at first sight, but the feeling went deeper than lust, and was much more complicated. Her sharp intelligence piqued his interest. Her quick retorts tweaked his sense of humor, and inspired reluctant affection. Her incredible courage and composure in the face of grave danger had won his respect. Complications he didn't need.
He swallowed the uneasiness churning inside him. He sure as hell wasn't used to being attracted to a woman for her mental attributes. In fact, he never stayed long enough to get to know them, or for attachments to form. On either side. Nothing lasted, nothing was forever.
No matter what starry-eyed romantics claimed, nobody would ever love him enough to stick around. He already knew that. So, he left before they could leave him. That way, he did the walking out. That way, nobody got hurt. He ignored the tightness in his chest, the aching desperation, and shrugged.
C'est la vie.
He'd be the first to admit Tessa was not only smart, she was gorgeous. But he'd hung around with boatloads of beautiful babes, and his brain had never gone renegade before. He stayed in control, made conscious choices of like-minded women. No strings. No nooses. Tessa was the type of woman he avoided. She was too sweet, too innocent. Too full of hope. She would want promises. He didn't have any to give.
Damn it, he knew better, yet couldn't control his attraction. This time he couldn't protect himself by walking away. Not with Tessa's life at stake. His stomach cramped with something that strongly resembled fear.
"Gabe? Are you ready to go?"
He fought his way out of the riptide and redirected his thoughts. Keep it light. Playful. Keep it on the surface. Safe. "Yeah. You know, you'd look really hot in an emerald-green dress."
She shook her head. "I don't like to draw attention to myself."
"You've got an incredible body. You should flaunt it."
"That's not funny." She turned away and shrugged into the olive trench coat she carried.
Gabe squelched the smart retort hovering on his lips. What kind of insecurities was this amazing woman hiding? He closed the distance between them in three strides. With a finger under her chin, he raised her face. Her wide, amber eyes glimmered with hurt.
His heart fisted. "I wasn't teasing. You're a beautiful woman. Don't let anybody convince you differently."
"No worries about my ego. I believe in no-nonsense reality." She pulled back and stalked toward the door. "We're going to be late."
Belted into the Viper and speeding toward Riverside Drive
, he tried again. "What exactly is your version of reality?"
"Forget it. How about some music?" She slid a Latin CD into the player and turned up the volume.
Somebody had mutilated the lady's self-image. Brutally. He jammed his fingers through his hair. Concentrating on deep, regular breaths, he clenched his jaw and hardened his heart against the empathy throbbing there.
It wasn't his concern.
Not his problem.
None of his business at all.
Gabe's Golden Rule: never get involved. He was a pro at walking away. He did his job and left. If you got attached, you got in trouble. You got hurt. Mortally wounded. He knew where the line was, and never crossed it.
The fact that he wanted to, for Tessa, shook him to the core. Rattled, and more afraid than he would admit, he concentrated on the road.
At five minutes to six, he escorted her into the glitzy burgundy-and-gold interior of the West Riverside Country Club. "When we get to the table, introduce me as your cousin."
"I don't have any cousins."
"I'm your long-lost cousin, in town for the wedding."
"But Mel knows—"
"Just do it. I'll take care of the rest."
"We should have discussed this," she gritted. "Don't blame me if it doesn't work."
The hostess escorted them to a table in the corner. A giant blond man three inches taller than Gabe rose from his chair with fluid grace. The hulk's designer navy suit emphasized his wide athletic shoulders and narrow waist.
This guy was a violinist? He could play linebacker for an NFL team. Gabe's disconcerted gaze swept over the golden hair, blue eyes and even features. But no, contact sports would ruin Mr.