And he knew she was lying. Which intrigued him. She had intrigued him from the minute he opened the gate, and that was dangerous. He showed interest, any interest, and women responded, with enthusiasm that degenerated into obsessive pitiful devotion that left him feeling guilty and horrified, them heartbroken and ashamed. It was his punishment for falling— inadvertently arousing obsession in women—and he would not, could not, show anything other than a casual business interest in Sara and subject her to that torture.

If he had known what she looked like, if he had seen the pain floating in her eyes, he would never have requested her assistance on this project, but it was too late now. She was here, and he was stuck with her. He was also being rude, which was unnecessary. Nothing was her fault, and she didn’t deserve his animosity.

“Why don’t you come in for a minute?” Gabriel stepped back from the gate. “I apologize for mixing up the days.”

She gave him a brief smile of amusement at that, and Gabriel knew she realized how difficult admitting he was wrong was for him. Pride was yet another flaw of his. It was no secret he had many.

“Thanks.”

It was also apparent to Gabriel as he walked up the curved staircase to his third-floor apartment that he had very little experience with normal one-on-one social and business interactions. He did the vast majority of his communicating online now, and he wrote in solitude. Avoided people. Which was probably why he was so uncomfortable walking ahead of Sara Michaels, why he was so hyperaware of the sound of her breathing, the scent of her perfume, the glimpse of her arm behind him, fingers stroking along the banister as they ascended.

But he was so determined, maybe even desperate, to solve Anne’s murder that he would suffer social discomfort to extract the information Sara Michaels could provide.

He turned back when she gave a startled cry. “Are you okay?” She had stopped walking and was gripping the banister with white knuckles.

She nodded, taking in a deep breath. “I missed a step. It’s slanted, and my foot slipped.” Her hand came up and demonstrated the angle.