Endgame (Last Chance Series) by Dee Davis Page B

do."
    "I'm sure you are." The spark in his eyes said more than his words, and she tightened her hold on the stem of her wineglass, fighting to maintain control.
    "For what it's worth, Mr. Roarke," she ground out, slamming the glass on the table, "the apartment belongs to me. A gift from my father. Feel free to check with the front desk on your way out."
    Instead of retreating, he stood up and took a step closer. "Daddy's little girl?"
    Any restraint she'd had melted away at the taunt. Without thinking, she closed the gap between them and swung, wanting nothing more than to wipe the smug expression from his face.
    He caught her wrist, her hand inches from his nose, his expression amused. "So, the cat has claws." His eyes raked across her, making her skin burn.
    Fury combined with adrenaline to give her added strength, and she twisted forward, slamming her left leg into the side of his knee, using his hold on her arm as torque to flip him to the floor. Still holding her wrist, he pulled her with him, rolling quickly to pin her to the ground, his body hard against hers.
    She turned slightly, pulling her knee upward at the same time in an attempt to dislodge him, but he was faster, grabbing her other wrist, holding her captive beneath him.
    "Nice moves." His voice was deep and smoky, his eyes darkening with an emotion she wasn't about to put a name to. Her breathing was ragged, and she was pleased to note that his was not coming any easier.
    Her anger had somehow slipped away, the chemistry between them shifting. His breath teased her face, and if she lifted her head, even slightly, their lips would touch. It was compelling, this need to move forward. Just centimeters and...
    The little voice in her brain screamed for sanity and with an exhale of breath, she forced herself to break the spell. "Get off me."
    His smile was slow, and a little wicked. "I don't know. It seems pretty comfortable to me."
    Her anger returned, but this time she managed control. "I said, get off."
    He searched her face, and then with a shrug rolled away, acting for all the world as if the moment had never existed. "You know your stuff, I'll give you that."
    "Just because I work as a profiler doesn't mean I'm not a real FBI agent, Mr. Roarke." She stood up and adjusted her clothing, wishing him to hell and back.
    "I thought we'd moved beyond the formality of last names, Madison." He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, the gesture amazingly intimate.
    She stepped back, struggling to keep her expression neutral. "I don't know anything of the sort. To date, you've insulted me, my profession, my godfather, my apartment..." She trailed off, realizing her voice was rising with each pronouncement.
    Gabriel held up his hands. "I call it like I see it . Sometimes being direct is the best way to cut through all the bullshit."
    "By insulting me."
    He narrowed his eyes, as if considering his response, then smiled at her, the gesture again disarming. "I think that had more to do with chemistry."
    She didn't have an answer. Couldn't even think straight , truth be told. This man had a way of unnerving her like no one she'd ever met. One moment threatening, the next taunting, and the next well—sexy as hell.
    Shit .
    She drew in a breath and pasted on a sweet social smile. The kind she reserved for boring old le eches. "All right then, Gabriel , what do you say we start over?" No way in hell was she letting him come out on top. If he could be disarming, so could she. "You said you wanted to know me better. What exactly would you like to know?"
    He frowned, obviously not expecting Pollyanna, and she mentally gave herself the point . Sitting on the arm of the sofa, she reached for her wineglass and took a sip, waiting. But she had underestimated her opponent.
    With the hint of a smile, he, too, sat down, crossing one leg over the other, equally prepared to wait her out . Their gazes met and held, neither wanting to be the first to break the silence. It would