Against the Fire by Kat Martin

I’m-not-interested vibes again tonight he’d back off and leave her alone. But he could have sworn he’d caught her looking him over a couple of times when she thought he wouldn’t see.
    He stood as she walked into the restaurant wearing the same drab gray suit she’d had on earlier in the day. Apparently, she’d come straight from work. As she passed the maître d’, Gabe saw the subtle shake of the man’s dark head and almost smiled.
    He pulled out her chair and Mattie took a seat. “Right on time,” he said. “But then I figured you would be.”
    She gave him a single assessing glance as he returned to his chair, made a point of picking up her linen napkin, carefully opening it and draping it across her lap.
    “I had some design work to finish before I could leave but it went along without a hitch.”
    “That’s always good.”
    “I doesn’t happen that often.”
    “Believe me, I know what you mean.”
    She continued to smooth her napkin. “I hope you’re hungry. This place has terrific food.”
    He scoffed. “If you like eggplant,” he grumbled. He was what he was. If she couldn’t accept that, there was no use going any further.
    Mattie looked up at him and smiled. “I guess you haven’t looked at the menu.”
    “Not yet.”
    She picked one up and handed it over. “You might like the rack of lamb. It’s a specialty of the house.”
    His eyebrows went up. “Rack of lamb?”
    “The curried beef is also very good.” Her smile remained in place. “Unless you’re opposed to curry.”
    “I like spicy food. I love Mexican, the hotter the better. I’m pretty much game for anything as long as it has meat.”
    She laughed at that. He remembered hearing it once before, a kind of throaty, sexy sound that made the blood in his veins head south. Why did he keep seeing her as some sort of sex kitten when the way she dressed, the way she wore her hair, said sex was the lowest item on her list of priorities.
    The waiter arrived, a thin, dark-skinned man with a hooked nose and a heavy Indian accent. “Would you care for something to drink?”
    “Yes, thank you.” Mattie ordered a glass of white wine and Gabe ordered an Indian beer.
    “When in Rome and all that,” he said.
    Mattie smiled, seeming a little more relaxed than she had been when she arrived. “I heard you went to the police department this afternoon.”
    “How’d you know?”
    “Captain Daily called Sid Weiss.”
    “After talking to Angel and actually seeing his alibi, I’m fairly convinced he didn’t do it. If that’s the case, I want Daily to find out who did.”
    “What did the captain say?”
    “He said he’d take another look, see if he could find something more than circumstantial evidence, something that might clear Angel’s name. Maybe something that’ll give them a lead on somebody else.”
    “Thank you.”
    “I also spoke to a friend of mine with the Downtown Redevelopment Committee. I asked him to take a look at the mural Enrique painted. I mentioned that the lot next to the painting might be the perfect place to put a park.”
    Mattie straightened, excitement glinting in her light blue eyes. “Do you really think they might be interested?”
    “I think they might. At any rate, it’s worth a try.”
    “Yes, it certainly is. Enrique… The boy has a marvelous talent.”
    “Yes, he does.”
    The waiter came and took their orders. Gabe had the lamb and Mattie had curried vegetables and rice.
    “So you don’t eat meat,” he said when the food arrived. “Why is that? Some sort of personal statement or something?”
    “Actually, I eat chicken and fish, eggs and cheese. Red meat just doesn’t hold much appeal for me.”
    He cut into his lamb and took a bite. It was delicious. “This is great.”
    Her lips quirked. “I told you.”
    He bit into a pita-like bread the waiter called naan and it was great, too. “What else don’t you do?”
    Her gaze shot to his and soft color washed into her cheeks. She was