Dammit, he should have known. She was right. Myers had waited for her to be alone—and Jarod had let his guard down, thinking they were safe. He should have known better.
Striding along the narrow hallway, he knew he was right as he saw Lacey’s sunglasses thrown recklessly on the floor. He picked them up, pushing down the fury and tangle of emotions that threatened to cloud his thinking.
Spotting something else out of the corner of his eye, he saw her lipstick—he knew it was hers, recognizing the case she’d used earlier in the day—lying on the floor near the back door of the diner. She was leaving him a trail, and he just hoped he was in time.
LACEY DIDN’T KNOW what was going on. The man who had her clearly wasn’t Scott, and that had rattled her more than if it had been her ex. She struggled, having taken a self-defense course when she moved to the city, and she knew she had to fight for herself. Fighting back was often enough to discourage a would-be attacker.
Luckily her bag was open as she’d left the bathroom, and she’d been dropping stuff left and right, but there was no telling if anyone would notice.
“Just take my bag. There’s cash and credit cards, and you can…”
“Shut up, and keep walking.” The voice was smooth, almost polished in her ear, his breath warm, but there was the lingering odor of something. As he tightened his grip and she lifted her foot to try to stomp down, pulling at his arms or trying to angle her head so she could bite, she felt the sharp point against the side of her neck and froze. “I don’t want your money. I want your man.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You be a good girl, you might just make it out of this. It’s not you I want, so I don’t care if he finds you alive or dying, as long as he comes after you. You should keep that in mind,” the soft voice warned.
Her mind finally comprehended his words—she wasn’t being mugged or robbed or attacked. At least, not in the way she thought. She was bait.
“Who are you?”
“An old friend of your Ranger’s…He’s taken something I want back, and he’ll tell me where to find it as long as I have something he wants. You,” he said and she could hear the smile in his voice, shuddering from revulsion as he buried his head in her neck and sniffed.
“You smell good. Maybe we could have some fun after the Ranger’s dead.”
“I thought you said you just wanted something from him?”
She had to keep him talking. Maybe someone would hear, she thought, her eyes traveling up the narrow brick walls of the alley behind the diner. The windows were small and high, and if she screamed to get attention, he’d strike. Of that she had no doubt.
“I do. And I plan to get it. And then I plan to make sure he can’t follow me where I’m going. Though I have to thank you for dropping things out of your purse to lead him to us—that was helpful,” the man said, laughing against her hair.
Her stomach flipped. She’d inadvertently led Jarod into danger. How could he know that this maniac was after him and not her? The man who held her had all the advantages.
“What did he take that you want back?”
“My daughter.”
“Jarod won’t give you what you want, not even for me.”
“Jarod won’t give you what you want,” he mimicked her in a high-pitched tone, laughing again. “You had better pray that he will. But maybe you like dangerous men? Maybe you like the excitement?” he said seductively, and she held back a cry as his free hand snaked around and covered her breast.
It had been about a minute, and it seemed like a year. Her logical thoughts seemed to have been replaced by fear and hopelessness. Maybe Jarod thought she’d ditched him? Maybe he’d never gone to look for her, or he missed her path of dumped items, or he just couldn’t find her, and she was going to die, and probably suffer worse, here in a back alley at the hands of a criminal.
“Darren Hill.” The name popped to her lips—the man Jarod had had to identify, the one who had escaped custody in Texas.
“How do you know who I am?” he asked, pressing the knife harder against her throat, and she realized her error. If she knew who he was, he’d never let her walk away.
“My name is Lacey,” she said, not answering his question, hoping to buy herself more time.
“So the Ranger told you about me, Lacey. I’m flattered,” he said, laughing one moment, and gripping her even harder the next. His tone was angry. “Where the hell are you, Ranger?” he shouted into the alley. “You’re sure taking your time, and I might just decide to enjoy myself a little more with your girl here,” he said, his hand digging into her tender flesh as she whimpered.
His tone softened again. “You call him. You tell him how you feel with my hands on you, and you beg him to save you,” he said and jerked her backward. “Now.”
“J-Jarod,” she called, her voice weak, and then she repeated it more strongly, praying that someone heard if not Jarod. “Jarod—I’m okay. Do what you have to and shoot this sonofabitch between the eyes if you c—”
“Puta!” Hill spat, and pushed her to the ground. The wind was knocked out of her, but she managed to keep from hitting her head. He towered over her, pulling a gun out from his jacket and she froze as he aimed it at her and then both of them were distracted by another voice. Jarod stepped forward out of the converging alley.
Lacey forgot her stone-cold fear, unable to see anything except for her captor swinging the gun in Jarod’s direction. White-hot anger took hold and all her walls of fear came crashing down with blind rage. She lashed out, knowing this time she was going to win.
JAROD HEARD THE ECHO of voices and a muffled struggle as he made his way along the alley. Backup was coming, but it wouldn’t be here soon enough. The alleys merged and his head snapped up when he heard Lacey’s cry, then her shout. He rushed to turn the corner just in time to see Hill shove her to the ground and pull his gun. Jarod shouted instinctively to draw Hills attention his way as he reached for his gun, but Hill had the jump.
He wasn’t prepared to see Darren Hill, and he certainly wasn’t prepared for what came next.
Lacey, yelling loudly, blindly grabbed onto a bottle lying near a garbage can and swung hard at Darren’s crotch, nailing him perfectly. Darren’s gun went off, ricocheting wildly around the brick and pavement. Jarod saw him lunge for Lacey, and called out a warning as she skittered away, but then Darren’s body arched in surprise and fell to the ground. He groaned in pain. Jarod saw two of New York’s finest in an upper window, and three more charging down the alley.
He raced toward where Lacey sat, staring at Darren, who was cursing a blue streak. The NYPD officers dealt with him while Jarod helped Lacey to her feet.
“You okay?” he asked as he searched her for serious injury. The short question was all he could manage as the emotions needed to stay at bay for the moment.
She looked at him steadily and nodded. “Good.”
One of the officers approached Jarod. “This the guy you were looking for?”
Jarod nodded, exchanging looks with Hill, who was now cuffed and put in an upright position against the wall while being read his rights, an ambulance screaming in the background.
Turning back to Lacey, he looked her over again, making sure all was well.
“It wasn’t Scott,” she said to him, sounding confused.
“No. I have to admit, I never seriously thought Darren would have come after me here.”
And with that bit of miscalculation, he’d put Lacey in danger. Had almost gotten her killed. Something cold settled down in his gut as he watched the paramedics escort her to the ambulance to check her out, a cop close behind her.
Someone shook him out of his haze, as well, and he realized Lacey was being asked to give a statement. He went with her, keeping a close eye.
She was holding up well, all things considered, and he was proud of her. One tough cookie, his photographer. If not for hitting Hill with that bottle Jarod knew he might be dead.
“Wait—
how come you’re here now and not over there?” he said, signaling the paramedic, but Lacey grabbed his arm, stopping him.
“They looked me over, and I’m fine. Just some dents and bruises,” she joked, even smiled, but he didn’t laugh, his gaze focused on her. His hand came up to hold her face.
“You should go to the hospital. I can come with you,” he offered.
Her hand covered his. “I’m fine, Jarod. Really. Please, the last thing I need is one more hospital visit.”
“He hurt you,” Jarod said softly, and touched the bandage at her neck, noticed the bruises.
“Yes, but he won’t be able to do that again,” she said, stepping closer. “You saved my life. I don’t know how you thank someone for that, but—”
“I put you in danger,” he said gruffly, still scrutinizing her injuries.
“What?” She was incredulous.
“Tom told me there was a chance Hill would head this way. If he had—”
She put her arms around him, squeezing tightly. “But he didn’t. I’m fine.”
Tenderness that threatened to swallow him whole took hold, and he had to suck a deep breath just to speak.
“Nice shot with the bottle, by the way.”
“I know,” she said, shaking her head. “After having that scumbag touch me, threaten me, and then he turned that gun on you, I just…Something gave way. No how was he going to win.”
“Most people would have let the fear get to them,” he said, knowing it was true, and how extraordinary she was.
“I know it probably doesn’t make sense, but I feel…good. Really gross, from this alley, and a little sore, but…better than I have in a long time.”
“It’s the adrenaline, and the relief,” Jarod said, wishing he could say the same. She’d apparently faced some demons and put them to rest, but his had just awakened.
Regardless of her disclaimers, she never would have been in danger if it hadn’t been for him, his work, his past. Who was he to think of a future with this woman, any woman? And children, or a life…the kinds of things that men like Darren Hill could hold against him, threaten him with. Unless he stopped being what he was, and that couldn’t happen, either.
“Jarod?”
“Huh? Sorry,” he said, pushing his hand through his hair.
“Can you please take me home? I’m dirty, and…I just need to be with you right now.”
“The hospital—”
“I don’t need the hospital. I need you,” she said vehemently, and he realized he needed her, too. Needed to forget all the problems and all the reasons it wouldn’t work, couldn’t work, and enjoy what time they had. It couldn’t be forever, but it would have to be enough.
12
SUNDAY PASSED in a haze of sex and sleep, both of them wanting nothing more than to be with the other. Lacey was hesitant to take her clothes off, not wanting Jarod to see where Darren’s harsh grip had bruised her, but there was no hiding the fact.
Jarod saw everything, absorbed everything and made it all right. He kissed the bruises, replacing the memories of the felon’s hard grip with a lover’s warm lips and gentle hands. Their lovemaking was just as passionate, but sweeter than before, and Jarod went from tender and loving to playful and teasing as the morning wore on.
“Sunday rule, nothing serious today. We’re not leaving the apartment, and we’re not thinking about anything else but us. We’ll order in, and just enjoy.”
She grinned, playing along. She needed the lightness. They ordered pizzas, drinks, salads and desserts, and leftovers filled the kitchen counters and refrigerator. Her stereo played soft renditions of Norah Jones’s tunes in the background, and they’d actually danced in her living room. Naked. It was a first.
There were a lot of firsts with Jarod. At the moment, they were laughing hysterically as bubbles flew everywhere in her bathroom, both of them barely fitting in her clawfoot tub.
The water was lukewarm as they washed and touched each other until the kidding was chased away by desire, and Lacey turned, poised over him, and took his shaft deep inside as she lay back against his chest.
“I’ve never had a bath quite like this before,” she said, her voice catching. His arms came around front to apply fragrant bath gel to a sponge before he started sweeping it gently, erotically over her thighs, stomach and breasts. Her breath came faster, and she felt his heart slamming in his chest. She pushed her feet against the bottom of the tub, rocking slightly, drawing a moan from them both.
“Can’t say I’ve ever been much of a bubble bath guy, myself,” he said huskily, continuing to wash her as he continued to fill her. He thrust up gently in response to her rocking motions, and water sloshed around them and over the tub’s edge onto the tile. “But it’s definitely an experience I’d like to repeat.”
“Can you repeat that little thing you just did with the sponge?” she asked breathlessly. Her head dropped back when he did, pressing the rough-textured sponge down between her thighs and drawing slowly upward. He applied the right pressure, and she gasped, sensation cascading through her as he leaned down and found her mouth with his, swallowing her cries of release.
As her orgasm spent itself, rippling through her muscles much like the warm water did around her, she planted her hands on the side of the tub. Lifting herself up just enough, she drove down on him harder, then again, knowing what he needed.
“Oh, yeah…like that, just like that,” he said, groaning his approval as she complied, his hands splaying over her hips and supporting her and helping her balance. “You’re so damned tight…I love when you squeeze me hard inside,” he panted, knowing it excited her when he told her what he liked.
His excitement was hard to deny when after only a few more hard thrusts he grabbed her hips and held her down, with a long, guttural sound that told her exactly how satisfied he was.
She wasn’t sure she could get enough of him. Her body should be sated, but hearing him come, feeling him come, had her worked up all over again. She was almost embarrassed to admit it, but somehow he knew, and reached down with his hand instead of the sponge and stroked her to a quick, mindless climax that had her trembling.
Getting out, he grabbed a big towel and dried her limp, well-loved form and carried her back to bed. They slept for a while, ate cold pizza, and couldn’t help but be aware that the day was ticking to an end, and tomorrow would have to be dealt with.
She woke first, sometime in the middle of the night, and watched him sleep. Tomorrow was their last day working together, and they hadn’t said a single word about what came after that.
“Deep thoughts going around in that pretty head?” he murmured, surprising her. She hadn’t known he was awake.
“A few.”
“Want to share?”
“I’m thinking about tomorrow. The shoot is on the walkways of the Brooklyn Bridge. And then we’re done.” She paused. “Um, with the calendar shots, I mean. Not…Oh, crap. Never mind.”
She closed her eyes, rolling to her back and hitting herself in the forehead quietly with her fist. She was no good at this. She’d never been in this position before, caring so deeply, wanting so much, and not knowing how to navigate the territory between them.
“Hey.” He grabbed her hand. “No beating yourself in the head. Didn’t we talk about that?” he teased.
She laughed lightly. “I feel like I’m thirteen with the boy I like and completely flubbing it.”
“You like me, huh?”
“Yeah. I do like you.”
“I like you, too.”
“I noticed.”
“But there are a few things in the way,” Jarod spoke calmly. “Namely, my job is a risky one. I grew up watching my mother suffer, wondering if Dad was coming home from work every day until she couldn’t take it anymore. I swore I’d never do that to anyone. When Hill took you…I realized what a mistake I’d made.”
Her heart hammered. It was dark and she could barely make out his silhouette as he looked at her. “This isn
’t a mistake.”
“No, this isn’t, but starting to fall in love with you is. Thinking about dragging you into my life is—Hill might not be the last, or the worst. I don’t want you to suffer like my mom did, always wondering, only to watch what we have now implode.”
Lacey blinked, fully awake, and pushed herself up on the mattress. Love. He’d said he was starting to fall in love with her.
He continued, “When I saw him holding the gun over you, and knew I was responsible for that…it’s something I can’t live with.”
She pulled back a bit. “And I have nothing to say in the matter?”
She heard the coolness in her own voice, but couldn’t help it. She understood his fears, but wasn’t he the one who was telling her that you couldn’t let fear run your life?
“It’s not that…it’s just, well, sweetheart, you’ve been through enough, and—”
“Don’t,” she said quietly.
“What? Don’t what?”
“Don’t think about me that way. It’s why I never wanted anyone to know what happened to me in the first place, and I thought you were…you were the exception.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lacey,” he said, turning on a light and sounding frustrated.
“You’re turning me into a victim—some person who can’t make their own choices, like someone who needs to be shielded and protected.”
“Of course you can make your own choices, and I don’t see you as a victim, not in the way you mean. In both cases, you fought back, saving yourself, and even saving me,” he said, meeting her eyes, and she felt some of the tension dissolve. “But I do want to protect you. I can’t help it, it’s who I am. But what about the time that I can’t? What about the next nutcase or freak out for revenge that—”
“Then I guess you trust me to handle it myself and hope for the best,” she interrupted, reaching up to touch his face.
Hard to Resist Page 13
