when he had called out. She’d ignored him, making it clear that she wanted nothing more to do with him.
Well, Omar would see about that. One way or another.
* * *
“What are you doing?” Gabrielle asked.
Omar pulled her toward his body, and looked down into her eyes as if trying to claim her with his gaze. “Kissing you.”
He began to lower his lips slowly, and just when his lips touched hers, Gabrielle felt her body explode.
Her eyes popped open. For a moment, Gabrielle didn’t know what was going on. Her heart was beating fast. She was in her bed, she soon realized. Which meant...
Which meant she had been dreaming about Omar.
Dear God in heaven, what was wrong with her? She glanced at the clock. It was just after four in the morning, and she needed to be up in a few hours. Yet, she had been sleeping fitfully. For some reason, her mind wouldn’t stop replaying what had happened the previous night. How she had been running down that alley, then suddenly stopped by Omar. How the perp had gotten away.
The smoldering look Omar had given her...
Sitting up in the bed, she reached for her water bottle on the night table. She knew why she kept replaying what had happened. And it was because she had been so close to nailing the arsonist.
Did she look like a crazy person? The fact that Omar actually believed she had been the arsonist was baffling.
As she sipped from a glass of water at her bedside, she conceded that perhaps she had looked fidgety and suspicious. She had been keeping one eye on the fire, and one eye on the person she thought had started it. She didn’t want to get too close and scare him off. But she had tried—surreptitiously—to get photos of him.
She wasn’t sure if she had spooked him, but suddenly he had started to move out of the crowd. Toward the alley. There had been no time to try to get anyone else’s attention. Gabrielle had done the only thing she could do. Follow him.
How exactly were you planning to take him down? By batting your eyelashes?
The firefighter’s sarcastic question sounded in her mind. Would he have asked her that had she been a male civilian? Or would he have applauded a male for a valiant effort to take down a wanted criminal?
Gabrielle lay back down on the bed and snuggled with her pillow. Again, she thought about the look Omar had given her just before they parted. It irked her all the more to know that they had been talking about something serious, and then he had given her the bedroom eye. As though all she was good for was something sexual.
Of course, Gabrielle was jumping to conclusions. He hadn’t said anything inappropriate. Well, except for that one sexist comment. He certainly hadn’t crossed the line with her. But...
It was that spark she had felt. Amidst their arguing, she had felt a pull of attraction. Which made her wonder if she were losing her mind.
She looked at the pillow beside her. The empty pillow. The pillow where her ex-fiancé used to sleep.
Until he had cheated on her.
Maybe that was what was bothering her about the encounter with Omar. Besides the disturbing fact that he let the perp get away, maybe she had seen in him the very qualities she used to see in Tobias.
Yes... That was it. She had sensed in him the same kind of philandering ways she had sensed in Tobias. That’s why she had gotten angry with him.
Tobias Winthrop. What a joke. He’d had such a sophisticated name, and he’d had the pedigree to go along with it. Firstborn child of a wealthy businessman. Tobias began working at his father’s company even while in college. From that point, he was groomed to become the CEO of Winthrop Publishing. He had talked about how wonderful their future would be, how they could be a power couple in Ocean City. How they could sail the seas on a private yacht and take private planes to exotic destinations.
He had swept Gabrielle off her feet. But all the money in the world couldn’t buy happiness. She had learned that the hard way when Tobias had cheated on her with her own cousin.
Gabrielle rolled over in her bed and tightly shut her eyes. Why was she thinking about Tobias and his betrayal?
She knew why. It was her brain’s way of reminding her that men like Tobias—and Omar—were dangerous to her heart. She had felt a spark of attraction for Omar. And now, her brain was screaming at her with all kinds of signals. Trying to remind her that even being attracted to someone like Omar could lead to heartbreak.
“Good grief,” she said to herself. “Why are you even getting yourself worked up over this?”
It wasn’t as if she was going to see Omar again.
The next day, Gabrielle felt exhausted at work. She hadn’t had nearly enough sleep. But in her line of work, napping on the job was impossible. She’d had people to call and interview before appearances on the various shows that Cable Four produced. And she’d had to film her own show, Your Hour, and be upbeat while she was on air.
So she had done what she’d had to do. This had been a three-espresso day.
She didn’t particularly like the strong drink. In fact, she consumed it more as if it were medicine. A liquid shot of adrenaline. It gave her an extra jolt when she was beginning to get fatigued. It allowed her to get through her day.
And when she was finished and finally leaving the studio, she wanted nothing more than to head home and get in her bed. But she couldn’t. Not yet. She needed to visit her parents. Ever since her father’s heart attack, she stopped by often to see how he was doing and to help cheer her mother up.
Gabrielle rounded the studio building to the parking lot...then stopped up dead in her tracks. Was that Omar?
It took only a second for her to realize that it was. And the nerve of him. He was leaning his butt against her Mercedes!
She hustled forward. As she did, he stood tall. He was six foot one at least. And now, in the daylight, without his firefighting gear, she could take a better look at him.
He had a medium brown complexion. He had a round face, which was both sexy and boyish at the same time. He was clean-shaven, and had closely cropped hair. And his body...his biceps were exposed beneath his shirt, and she could see the defined muscles, even though he wasn’t flexing.
He was one seriously sexy man.
As Gabrielle got closer to him, she saw that he had a gold stud in his left earlobe. Figures, she thought. Was that on page one of the player’s handbook?
“Gabby,” Omar said, and gestured to her personalized license plate. “Figured this had to be yours.”
Would it be completely rude to simply get into her car and drive away? Why Omar was even here, Gabrielle had no clue.
She pressed her electronic key to unlock her doors. “What are you going to do?” Omar asked. “Take off without
