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by LSI |
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Chapters: Prologue 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18
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Chapter Four Gil felt like hell. Nothing had felt right in a long time, but this was worse. It was like his world was spinning out of control and he didn’t know how to stop it. All because of that damn girl sitting next to him in the passenger seat of the Tahoe. How often had he regretted hiring her? She’d done nothing but mess with his mind ever since. And then, she’d messed with his heart, infiltrated herself in a place he’d always guarded so carefully, especially from her. Whenever he thought he’d managed to get the situation under control, something would happen to set him back a few paces. The events of the past twelve hours had set him back a mile. She hadn’t said a word since leaving the ranch. She hadn’t even responded to his disparaging, but tongue-in-cheek, remarks about the scores of journalists parked outside the entrance gate to the farm. He figured she was upset with him for having lashed out at her, but she’d deserved it. What had possessed her to risk her life that way? Sometimes he didn’t understand her—that reckless streak of hers. He could have wrung her neck back there for acting with such total disregard for her safety. Instead he’d pulled her into his arms and clung to her until she’d stopped trembling and his fears had dissipated. He looked at her. She was staring straight ahead, her face expressionless. The sun filled the cab, warming her features and highlighting her hair. He had underestimated how silky her hair would feel, or how heady her scent would be, or how perfectly her body would fit to his. He’d held her, probably longer than necessary, but once his arms had closed around her, he had needed every ounce of strength he possessed to pull away. Just thinking again about the feel of her against him, started an all too familiar throbbing in his body. As much as he tried to keep their relationship on a professional level, he could never look at her without wanting her. He teetered between wanting her and hating her for wanting her. And, at this moment, he was almost certain he wanted her out of his life. But not the way it had almost happened this morning. God, no! Never that way. In the minute or two it had taken Ryan to calm the lioness, he had died a thousand deaths. It hadn’t helped that Ryan had placed himself between him and his beloved lion, obstructing Grissom’s view of the animal, and rendering him powerless, even with the tranquilizer gun in his hands. He’d had to relinquish control over Sara’s life to a man he didn’t know well enough to trust, and it had felt damn uncomfortable. He couldn’t remember having been more furious. And, he hated her for putting him in that situation. He hated her! “I hate you.” Surely he hadn’t said that! He shot her a quick glance. The startled eyes that turned to him from the passenger seat of the Tahoe were so filled with pain, it cut through him. That’s when he knew for certain he’d said the words aloud. “Sara, I didn’t mean—“ She hurriedly looked away, shielding her face from him. “Save it,” she said angrily. “It’s the last time I risk my neck to save your life.” Now, he was confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?“ “Just take me home, Grissom,” she pleaded. “Your car’s at the lab.” “Blake can drive me in later,” she said bluntly. Of course! How could he have forgotten her date with Garrison? But, he hadn’t really forgotten it, had he? It had been right there in his sub-conscious mixed in with all the other events of the morning which had short-circuited his brain. As he approached the exit to her neighborhood, he felt strangely like he was driving her to her date, which didn’t make much sense, but irrational thought where she was concerned no longer surprised him. “Wouldn’t you rather come back to the lab so you can pick up your car?” “No. I won’t need it for the rest of the day, anyways. Unless—“ she looked at him, a frown forming on her face, “it’s too much trouble.” “Of course not.” Ten minutes later he stopped the SUV in front of her apartment building. She jumped out quickly and opened the rear door to retrieve her field kit. “Thanks,” she said with barely a glance in his direction. “Sara—“ The door slammed closed on her name, but he knew she’d heard him. As she stepped onto the narrow walkway up to the building, Gil climbed out of the SUV and followed her. “Sara,” he said forcefully. She stopped and reluctantly turned to face him. “What?” Her eyes were dark and steady, and devoid of any emotion. The pain he’d witnessed there earlier was gone; still, he couldn’t bear the thought that he’d hurt her. And, he really hadn’t meant it. Not in that way. He hated what she did sometimes. He hated how she made him feel. But, he could never hate her. “I didn’t mean it…what I said earlier.” A corner of his mouth pulled back in an awkward smile. “I don’t hate you.” She didn’t smile back. “I know you don’t hate me, Grissom. That would be too strong an emotion for you.” With that, she turned and headed for the front door. A burning sensation settled in Gil’s chest as he watched her go. He let out an unsteady breath. If she had intended to hurt him, she’d succeeded. *
* * * * It was silly to let his words upset her so much. She already knew how he felt about her, or didn’t feel about her. But every new piece of evidence to that effect stung anew. Not that she really believed he hated her. He’d been angry because she had crossed that fence and almost got mauled by a lion. His decision to examine Shadow had been a bad one, and if anything had happened to her as a result of it, he would have been in serious trouble. And, he would have had to live with the guilt of it. Sara wasn’t completely guilt-free herself. She’d been a little hard on him, accusing him of being incapable of strong emotion, when his reaction at the ranch earlier that morning had proven the very opposite. Still, those words, from his lips, directed at her, had hurt. They would have hurt under any circumstances, but to have them intrude on her memories of being in his arms, his heat soaking into her, his warm breath fanning her ear, his heart beating wildly against her chest…well, that had been cruel. As she prepared for bed, she forced the memories from her mind. Her body’s response to Grissom might be beyond her control, but dwelling on it was not. And there was nothing to be gained from it. She would redirect her energies to more positive thoughts, such as her dinner-date with Blake. Blake. He’d always had a knack for making her laugh, and he’d helped her loosen up, not take herself quite so seriously. Unfortunately, her first few weeks in Vegas had been difficult and, away from his influence, she’d reverted back to her old ways. She needed someone like him now to bring joy back into her life. His timely arrival was kismet, really. Yeah…she’d concentrate on that, on resurrecting the easy friendship they’d once had, instead of daydreaming about a man who had already decided their fate. But, despite her resolve to put Grissom out of her mind, once Sara’s head hit the pillow and she closed her eyes, it was his face she saw, his strong, comforting arms she felt around her, and for one brief moment, as he pulled away from her, it was his eyes burning with an unnerving intensity that made her heart thump again. “NO, YOU’RE KIDDING ME.” Sara laughed, wholeheartedly. The sound was foreign to her ears. It had been a while since she’d had anything to laugh about. Trust Blake to be the one to lighten her mood. They had traveled in the same circles in San Francisco, worked with the same people, and walking down memory lane led by his unique brand of humor was indeed a treat. “I
swear it’s the truth,” Blake said, his own laughter rumbling in his
throat. He’d been telling
her about Frank Morrison, a fellow CSI in “Who?” “Isabelle Burke.” Sara laughed again. “Didn’t Frank have a huge crush on her?” “Yep.” “I bet he never lived that down.” “No, but he got over it once she agreed to marry him.” “Good for them,” she said, genuinely. Happy endings were good. Silence fell between them briefly as the waiter served their meals. Blake had taken her to an excellent little Italian restaurant far enough from the strip to be blessedly quiet. Given that he didn’t know Vegas, his choice had surprised her—she’d half expected to be eating at a tourist trap—but then, he’d explained that Brass had recommended it. Sara had cringed when Blake had all but admitted he’d told Brass about their dinner date. A speech on discretion had been on the tip of her tongue, but then, she’d realized the futility of it. As much as she’d tried to keep her personal life private in the past, she knew that very little escaped the grapevine at work. Ultimately someone would see you out somewhere, and the next thing you knew, the news had spread at the lab. Problem was that she feared Brass was a major contributor to the grapevine. How else would Greg have known about Blake before she even had time to make it back to the lab last night? Little did she know that Blake was about to confirm her suspicions about Brass. “So, Sara,” he started tentatively. “Tell me about yourself. What have you been up to in the past three years?” “Nothing much to tell,” she answered vaguely, and foolishly hoped he would leave it at that. Blake threw her a playful grin. “That’s not what Brass told me. I hear you and some paramedic were quite an item for a while.” Sara grimaced. “Not going there, Blake.” “You know, Princess, confiding in someone is good for the soul.” “You mean confession is good for the soul, don’t you, Blake?” “Whatever. Still beats keeping it all in, and knowing you, that’s exactly what you do.” She shrugged. “What’s done is done. No point rehashing it.” “Were you in love with him?” Sara
sighed. “You’re not
going to drop this, are you, Blake?”
She remembered how persistent he could be; she also remembered a
time when she wouldn’t have thought twice about confiding in him.
He was actually a good listener, and had often given her
excellent advice. It was odd
really that they’d been so close, yet she’d never once contacted him
after leaving Blake shrugged. “I just want to get to know you again. To be honest, I half expected you to be involved with Gil Grissom.” Sara almost chocked on her lasagna. She took a gulp of her Pelligrino, and fought for composure before facing Blake again. “Grissom?” she said as nonchalantly as she could. “Why would you think that?” He didn’t answer immediately. He looked at her thoughtfully, as if pondering whether or not to pursue the subject. Then, he shrugged and started pushing his veal ravioli around his plate, avoiding her eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because it was always Grissom this, and Grissom that. I doubt you realize how often his name used to come up.” She
frowned. Had she really done
that? She and Grissom had
worked a case together in “Are you going to deny you had a little crush on him?” She smiled playfully. “Would you believe me if I did?” “Would you stop answering my questions with questions?” “Is that what I’m doing?” They both laughed. It felt good. She was surprised at how good, and at how easily they had slipped back into their old camaraderie, as if there hadn’t been over three years of silence between them. “Seriously, Princess,” he started when their laughter died down, “will you answer my question?” “At the risk of answering with another question, why do you care? I mean, it’s not as if—“ She paused as an incredulous thought entered her mind. “Were you jealous?” He looked at her quickly and dropped his fork. “Jealous, me?” he joked. When she crossed her arms and raised a playful brow at him, he conceded. “Okay, not jealous, but my ego was a little bruised. You were after all the girl I was, uh…dating,” he winked, “and you did seem a little fixated on this Grissom guy. Hey, wait a minute, Miss Queen of Avoidance; you still haven’t answered one of my questions, and you’re not getting anything more out of me until you do.” Sara laughed and absently picked up a spoon. She toyed with it as she considered what, and how much to tell him. Then on a sigh, she said, “Hank, that’s the EMT I dated for a while,” she glanced at Blake briefly, “…he turned out to be a real jerk. He was already seeing someone, had been for a long time from what I gathered. He kept us both in the dark. But, no, I wasn’t in love with him, thank goodness. But, I hoped…” She shook her head. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” “You hoped…” Blake urged her to go on. She shrugged. “I guess I hoped I would fall in love with him, but looking back on it now, I realize it never would have happened.” “And Grissom?” Her fingers closed with force around the silver spoon, testing the strength of the metal. This was a tougher question. Trying to make light of it, she smiled wryly and said, “How much time do you have?” When he didn’t respond, she returned her attention to the spoon and spoke slowly, softly. “I suppose you’re right. I was a little…impressed with him. He’s brilliant—“ “So I hear,” Blake interrupted, a sardonic edge to his voice. Sara shot him a surprised glance. “Go on,” he said apologetically. “I didn’t come here with the intention of starting a relationship with him, if that’s what you’re thinking, Blake. I was excited at the prospect of working with him. This ‘crush’ I had on him was much more professional than personal, if that makes sense.” “When did it change?” “What makes you think it did? And if you say Brass, I’m going to shoot myself, or you,” she said pointing the spoon at him. “Blake, if you want to be my confidant, you’ve got to promise me that whatever I say to you goes no further. I don’t even want you to discuss me with Brass. I swear that guy can’t keep anything to himself.” Blake laughed. “Brass didn’t say anything. It’s something I detected this morning. And you should know that you can trust me.” “I’m sorry. Of course, I know that.” The waiter returned to remove their plates and ask if they would like dessert. “Want to share a Tiramisu?” Blake asked. “Sure.” Sara smiled at the memory. They both loved Tiramisu, but could never get through a serving each, so one night Blake had suggested they share one. They had slept together for the first time that night. “Bring back good memories, Princess?” “Uh, I don’t think we should go there.” Blake sat back in his chair, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat. “Chicken,” he said. Then, “So, are you going to tell me what happened with Grissom?” Sara lifted her shoulders. “Nothing happened. He,” she licked her lips. “He’s not interested.” There, she’d said it out loud. Surprisingly, finally saying it made her feel better. “Are you sure about that?” he asked softly. She nodded and sat back as the waiter returned with the Tiramisu and two spoons. He set it down at the center of the table. “Coffee?” he asked, to which both Blake and Sara nodded. Sara
dove into the dessert first. “Mm…this
is good,” she said after the first bite.
“I haven’t had Tiramisu since “Should I feel flattered?” “You’re flirting with me, Blake.” “You used to flirt with me too,” he said dryly. “We used to flirt with each other,” she shot back. Blake smiled. “You know, Princess, I think you’re wrong about Grissom not being interested, but if it’s true, it’s just as well. He’s too old for you.” Sara didn’t know whether to be angry or amused by his comment. She chose the latter. “Uh, Blake, he’s only four years older than you.” “Oh.” He laughed. “Why do I feel so young?” “Probably because you are. And so is he. He’s just had a lot to deal with in the past year. He’s forgotten how to laugh.” “Brass told me he was going deaf, or something.” Sara nodded. “He’s had surgery, and apparently he’s fine now. But I can only imagine how difficult it must have been for him.” “You’re in love with him,” Blake stated flatly. She looked up at him, startled. Her breath caught in her throat, and she swallowed hard. “It doesn’t really matter,” she said, not trying to hide the truth from him. “He’s already decided he doesn’t want a relationship with me. And I’m not wrong about that,” she sighed. “In fact, I suspect he’s involved with someone else.” “That can’t be. Who would choose anyone over you?’ Bless his heart. “You’re very good for my ego, Blake, but you haven’t met Catherine.” “Catherine Willows? I hear she used to strip for a living.” “Brass again?” Sara managed a weak chuckle. “Yeah, Brass did give me a synopsis of the people I’d be working with, including yours. It’s flattering. Do you want to hear it?” “Not particularly,” she said, looking up at the waiter as he brought their coffee. As soon as he left, her gaze settled on Blake again. “Besides, if you betrayed Brass’s confidence, I’d be wondering if I can trust you with mine.” “Good point.” He looked at her pensively. “You know, Sara, one of the things I’ve always admired about you is your confidence. I don’t know many people who’d pass up an opportunity to find out what someone said about them, especially when it’s good.” “Maybe I don’t much care what Brass thinks of me,” she shrugged. Then, she smiled. “Enough about me. It’s your turn. What brings you to Vegas? And don’t say it’s because I’m here, because I won’t buy it.” “Astute as usual, Princess. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that. There’s going to be a party at the Mayor’s mansion this coming Saturday. I’d like you to come as my date.” “Whoa. Why would you be invited to a party at the Mayor’s mansion, and what does that have to do with you moving to Vegas?” “I’m getting there,” he said smoothly. “The Mayor is my Godfather. A few years ago he introduced me to Sheriff Mobley, and we hit it off.” Sara pursed her lips, suppressing a smile. Blake frowned. “Let me finish. They’ve both been following my career and they urged me to come here in the hope that I’ll take over Mobley’s position.” Sara was stunned. “Wait…I don’t understand. Are you saying Mobley’s leaving?” “He’ll announce his candidacy for Mayor this weekend. The Mayor, as you probably know, is retiring.” “And they want you to run for Sheriff?” “If you sound any more surprised, I might take it personally.” “Sorry, it’s not that. Well, maybe it is. You’re not known here, what are your chances of getting elected?” “With the Mayor and the Sheriff backing me? Not bad, I’d say. So will you come with me?” Sara shook her head quickly, not in refusal, but because she was still trying to process all of this. “So, you came to Vegas to run for Sheriff?” “Yes, and because you’re here,” he teased. She made a face. “Who knows about this?” “Besides the Mayor and the Sheriff?” He shrugged. “My guess, probably not many people. And it’s my turn to ask that this stays between us…for now.” “No problem, but I can’t go with you.” “Why not? There’s no reason why we can’t date, Sara, if that’s what you’re worried about. And, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have with me.” She laughed. “I’m the only woman you know in Vegas, right?” “You underestimate yourself, Princess. I really want you to go with me.” “Well, I am off Saturday night. And, it could be fun. Plus, I’ve never been to the Mayor’s mansion,” she said as she stole the last piece of Tiramisu and made a production of slowly slipping it off the spoon with her lips, closing her eyes and moaning for effect. “This,” she said pointing at the empty plate with her spoon, “was a good idea.” “That’s what you said the first time we made love.”
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