“Some of you,” she said. “Some are pretty decent, I guess.”
“So do I fall in the slime category or the decent category?” he asked, shifting to find a comfortable position in the seat. He looked both guarded and determined, an unusual combination.
She ignored the winking e-mails and swiveled to face him. Oh, God, they were going to have to have one of those talks. Why now? She wished like anything that they could put it off.
Luck had never been her strong suit. “I guess that means we’re going to talk about this.”
“I know I’m not a good bet, Ana.” Gates went on the offensive before she could even take a breath. “I’m dedicated to my job. I love what I do. So do you. I was harsh when you came to the hospital.” He looked away as he said it. The investigator in her recognized it as a sure sign of remorse, or a lie. Either one said he felt he’d screwed up. She wasn’t buying it.
“Harsh? You call that harsh?” She had to get up, get out of the chair and move away from the power he exuded over her senses. Even banged up and pale, he drew a response from her body, her mind; she still wanted him. “Pretty mild word for what you said, don’t you think?”
“What do you expect, Ana?” he flared, and she heard the guilt ringing in his voice. “I’d been shot. An inch higher or lower and they’d be putting me in the ground. How I managed to get out alive, much less with as little damage as I had, is a fucking miracle.”
“You think I don’t know that?” she fired back, moving in on him now. “I was there, Gates. I held you in my arms all the way to the damn hospital. Your blood was on my hands”—she held them up, then pointed to her chest—“on my heart, on my watch. I thought you were going to die, Gates, right there. Another death on my conscience.” She was close to him now, breathing hard with the sheer weight of the words she’d been carrying.
The look in his eyes was powerful, magnetic. It wasn’t soft though, it wasn’t acquiescence. It didn’t seem to be understanding.
She threw up her hands in defeat. She refused to do this again. Refused. “Stop baiting me,” she said. “You’ve made your decision, Gates. I don’t have to like it, but I’m a big girl. If you don’t want me in your life, if all the—”
She stopped. How did you condense their brief time of deep, powerful passion into a trite phrase? “If the time we had together was your idea of a fling, so be it. I’m not built that way. My bad. Done. Move on, okay? But if you regret it, if you’re trying to make up, you’re doing a pretty sucky job.”
She stared at him, breath coming in harsh waves as she stood over his chair.
“Is that what you really want? For me to leave you alone?” He said it mildly, but the waves of tension rolling off him said the answer mattered. Deeply.
“Arrrrrrrrgh!” she half-screamed, smacking the wall next to where she stood. “What the hell are you getting at, Gates? You push me away like some cheap whore, like a fling that you were done with.” She mimicked his cold tone as she said, “So long, Agent Burton, thanks for letting me bleed on you.” She paced away, then back. “And you want to dig it up so you can throw that dirt at me again? What do you want?” she demanded. Before he could answer, she had to add, “And whatever it is, well, fuck you.”
With deliberate care, he pushed himself to a standing position.
“I had a lot of time to think about it,” he said, never raising his voice, which was nearly as infuriating as having to wait while he dismissed her yet again. “When I was awake, and able to think.”
“What’s to think about? You’ve already made it clear you’re done with me.” She turned, but he moved to her, faster than she thought possible in his condition. Bracing himself on the wall she’d smacked, he grabbed her hand in a firm, unbreakable grip. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of struggling to break free. She stood there, furious and hurt, with her heart cracking all over again. “What?”
“I said, I had to think.”
“Yeah, and?”
“All I could think about was you.” His verbal bombshell had her gaping. “I told myself