by Lori Foster
“What a relief.”
“So, we’re calling the police like good, sensible citizens, right?”
“Ah, no. I promised him I wouldn’t.” May fought her way into the pink jeans. “And until I talk to Jude, I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Only for Tim would May come up with such a cockeyed plan. For sure, she’d never do anything like it for herself. Remembering May’s warnings, Ashley protested in a mere whisper. “You know this is insane? And surreal. Something out of a suspense movie.”
But Tim’s injuries weren’t caused by a trip on the sidewalk.
“It’s the only way I can leave here without risking him.” Utilizing a lot of effort, May closed the last button on the jeans.
Ashley cast a quick look at the couch where Tim slept, thanks to pain pills. “I don’t know, May. What if there are people out there, and they recognize you?”
May caught Ashley’s arm and pulled her into the bathroom. After turning on the shower, they both felt safer talking. Tim could be loony about the whole “bugging” concern, but someone had really done a number on him, so better safe than sorry.
“We’ve done it in the past, Ash, and we’ve never been caught.”
“Yeah, well, you might not have noticed, but we’ve changed a little since the good old days. Most notably, you got gargantuan boobs and I didn’t.” It disgusted her to admit it, but Ashley said, “I’m still the great breastless wonder.”
“Ash,” May automatically protested, “you have a terrific figure.”
“If you can call an A cup terrific.”
May held up a sports bra. “I’d trade you if I could.”
“I hope that thing is lined with steel bands, cuz it’s going to take a lot of squeezing.”
“I’ll manage.” May bit her lip and fretted. “Our feet haven’t grown any, because the shoes fit. I just hope I don’t rip your jeans if I bend. Or move. Or breathe.” Her gaze met Ashley’s. “They’re really tight.”
“They’re stretch. Don’t worry about it. Actually, they look better on you than they do on me.” Her personal sense of style began and ended with color and comfort. Tight jeans were more flattering, but she preferred them loose to the point of being baggy. Lots of room to move. Not real attractive, but what did she need with male attention, anyway?
May stared at the stretch lace T-shirt, at her own chest, and she paced away with a hand to her forehead. Her hair hung loose to her shoulders, fluffed out and flirty to match Ashley’s curlier style.
Though Ashley’s hair was several inches longer, she doubted anyone would notice the difference. They shared an identical shade and texture.
As teenagers, they’d often played tricks on others, dressing alike, acting alike. May’s boyfriend in high school drove past the theater just as Ashley walked inside on a date. He accused May of cheating.
Once, Ashley’s father had thought she worked in the garden as per her punishment, when really she’d been in a school play. He never walked out to check on her, just looked through the window.
“Promise me you’ll be careful, May. I mean it.”
“Cross my heart.” May pulled the shirt on over her head, then pulled some more, up, down, trying to make it cover more of her, but without much success.
Inwardly, Ashley cringed; outwardly, she enthused. “Hey, it fits.”
“Sort of.” Staring down at her exposed cleavage, May moaned. “It’s so stretched, I can see through it.”
“Lucky for you it’s been a rainy couple of days.” Ashley picked up the V-neck, hooded poncho of florescent pink that she’d worn to ward off the weather. She dropped it over May’s head, closed the fat button at her neck, and grinned. It fell to May’s hips, concealing her. “There you go.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this. I can’t believe I’ve involved you in this.”
“We’ll stay inside. I’ll keep an eye on Tim. Don’t worry about us.”
“I know you despise him.”
“But I love you.”
Tears welled in her eyes as May drew a shuddering breath. “Oh God, Ash, this is…”
“A big clusterfuck?” She nodded. “Sure is.”
Dismay turned into a laugh. “You are so bad.”
“It’s what I live for.” Ashley hugged her close. “Now, stop worrying. I’ll keep the phone close, and if anything happens, I’ll call the cops, damn the consequences.”
“You better.” May took Ashley’s hands. “I won’t trade your safety for Tim’s. This is his mess. I’ll do what I can, but I don’t want you in danger.”
“Got it.” Ashley patted the cell phone in the pocket of the housecoat she wore. Beneath the housecoat, she had on a nightshirt and flannel pants. She preferred anything to May’s hideous suits, and her friend didn’t have much else. May either dressed for work or wore stay-at-home clothes. “And don’t forget, you’re going to call me, too, after you get there.”
May slipped off her glasses, stowed them in the large, colorful tote bag Ashley had carried, and gave her hair one last fluff. “I’m ready.”
They left the bathroom, and Ashley walked with her to the door. Filled with misgivings, she gave May one last hug. In a mere whisper, she said, “Get those glasses back on as soon as you round the corner.”
“I will.”
“And drive slow until then.”
“I will.”
“And think positive. Attitude is everything.”
Since May was the one who’d taught Ashley that, she smiled. “See ya soon.”
Holding her breath, Ashley stood by the front door until May had left the building. She relocked the door, then rushed to the window to peek through the curtains until May had gotten into her banana yellow Civic and driven away. No other cars pulled away from the curb to follow. No lights came on. No one moved out of the shadows.
Tim was such an ass.
After a quick prayer, Ashley moved back to the couch and stared down at him. If he didn’t look so pathetic, she’d be tempted to kick his butt.
Poor schmuck.
One of these days, May would walk out on all of them. And not a soul would blame her—except her family.
———
Sweat trickled down his bare chest and abdomen, dampening the waistband of his loose cotton shorts. His lungs labored and his muscles burned. Exhaustion dragged at him, but it wasn’t enough. With May, nothing would be enough until he had her. After an hour… or a day… or hell, a week of nonstop, no-holds-barred sex, then he’d have his fill and could get his life back.
But not until then.
And that burned more than anything else could.
He’d hoped physical exertion would dilute the throbbing of regret, the continual need. Many times in the past he’d used exercise to clear his mind, to control his anger. Pumping weights, jogging on the treadmill, and hitting the heavy bag until his arms felt like lead pipes usually left him wiped out in thought and body.
This time, it only fueled his frustration. Propping his leather-gloved hands on his hips, Jude dropped his head forward and sucked in air.
He had to face facts: May didn’t want him. She’d been real clear about that. She’d babied her drunken sot of a brother while telling him to get lost. She’d kissed him—sort of—then acted like it was nothing.
To hell with her. Let her throw herself at her work. Let her pass on something he knew would be good. Let her…
Shit. She’d crowded into his brain again.
With determination, Jude locked his jaw and pounded his fists against the bag until his arms trembled with the strain, and finally, he had to stop, crouching down to catch his breath. Even fatigued, with his energy totally spent, May’s image lingered in his mind. Smiling. Sweet. What the hell is so special about her?
“You have a visitor.”
Jude didn’t need to glance at the clock to know it was late. Or really early. Whatever.
Keeping his back toward Denny while he peeled off the boxing gloves, he said,
“I’m busy. Make my excuses.”
“You can make your own damn excuses.”
Jude slanted him a look, and Denny thrust out his bristly chin.
Not in the least defensive, but plenty insistent, Denny said, “I’m tired. I want to go back to bed.”
Denny wore only a rumpled T-shirt and unzipped trousers, no shoes. His thinning brown hair stood on end, showing thick ears and a faded tattoo on his skull. At forty-seven, he didn’t take well to instructions. Jude doubted that anyone had ever been able to boss him around.
Denny did as he pleased and expected others to do as he pleased, too. He believed in early to bed, early to rise, and since the sun would be up soon, no doubt the visitor had gotten him out of bed.
Down in the gym, Jude couldn’t hear the gate buzzer. Every room in his house had monitors to show what the security cameras picked up, and he could have turned on the one mounted on the far wall, but why bother? The only visitors he got were paparazzi, and they could rot for all he cared.
“Fine.” Jude tossed the gloves aside and picked up a towel to dry his chest. “Just ignore whoever it is and he’ll go away.”
Voice edging toward anger, Denny barked, “I’m a light sleeper, damn it. You know that. The buzzer’s been going off for ten minutes.”
Jude swallowed a curse. Why the hell had he hired an ex-military, cantankerous, martial arts son of a bitch for an assistant?
Oh yeah. He could trust Denny.
“You work for me, remember?” Jude took a long swig from his water bottle, poured some over his head, then dried off again.
Denny’s massive shoulders bunched. “Getting rid of girlfriends at the crack of dawn wasn’t on the list of duties when I signed on.”
“Girlfriends?” Jude lowered the towel. “What are you talking about?”
“Kicking ass, that I’ll do. I enjoy a good workout, especially if the one I’m kicking has a camera.”
Dismissing all that, Jude demanded, “What do you mean, girlfriend?”
“Meals, cleaning, hey, no problem. I gotta eat, anyway, and I can’t abide filth. That’s what you pay me for.”
When Denny got on a tirade, it took a lot to shut him down. Jude slashed a hand through the air. “The caller is a woman?”
“I take care of your mail and vet your phone calls. But this shit—”
“Damn it, Denny. What woman?”
As if startled, Denny gave up his diatribe and crossed his arms over his chest. His green eyes narrowed with indignation. “Chunky little thing. Brown hair. In a real tizz. She’s insisting you said she should visit. I told her you sure as hell didn’t mean at five in the morning—”
May was here to see him?
Suddenly rejuvenated, Jude pushed past Denny and took the stairs two at a time to the main level. Even as he raced, he felt like a fool. A pathetically hopeful fool. He did not chase after women.
But May wasn’t just any woman. Hell no. An ordinary woman wouldn’t have him up all night beating the hell out of a leather bag just to burn off sexual tension. He hadn’t been this antsy since Elton Pascal had taken the stand against him, telling lies that everyone believed, damn near getting him crucified.
In several long strides, Jude reached the security screen located in his enormous stainless steel kitchen. Arms braced on the counter, he leaned in to see the monitor, and sure enough, May filled the screen.
Holy shit.
Just outside the closed iron gate, May paced beside an idling car. Jude narrowed his eyes and stared at her.
What the hell had she done with herself?
Given his past problems and current status quo with the paparazzi, he’d bought the very best security system available. The picture on the monitor wasn’t grainy, and it didn’t waver.
The crystal clear image showed May with tumbling hair, poured into skintight pink jeans, and wearing some kind of sneakers that appeared to be yellow and pink checked. Her full breasts gave a tantalizing shape to an otherwise boxy, neon poncho.
She looked… well, not bad, exactly.
But not like herself, either. He knew May, and something had happened, something that would bring her to him at this ungodly hour. Something that would make her dress so differently.
Worry replaced stiff-necked pride—and relief filled the void of his soul.
He had a reason to let her in.
Without taking his gaze off the screen, Jude elbowed Denny. “Ask her what she wants.”
Bemused, Denny eyed him from foot to forehead, then harrumphed. “Already did. She said she had to talk to you.”
“Yeah, but ask her why. Hurry. Before she leaves.”
“Before she .. ?” Denny drew himself up. “You’re standing right here. Ask her yourself.”
His temper hit a high note. On the verge of exploding, Jude jerked around to face his friend and employee. “Goddammit, can’t you just once—”
“All right, all right.” Put out and not bothering to hide it, Denny said, “Jesus. Don’t have a hissy.”
Through clenched teeth, Jude growled, “I’m not. I’m …” Feeling desperate. A definite difference. “I’m tired. Now ask her.”
Grumbling, Denny punched the voice relay button. “Hey there, miss?”
Almost tripping over her colorful shoes, May whirled around and rushed back to the intercom. She got so close, Jude could see through the lenses of her glasses to the darkness of her eyes, wide with some wild emotion. “Yes?”
“Jude’s busy. He wants to know what you want.”
On a groan, she knotted both hands into her fluffy hair and turned a circle. Seconds ticked by. Finally, she came back to the intercom and monitor. “Please, tell him… tell him it’s important.” She sounded breathless. She sounded pleading.
Jude’s stomach bottomed out. “Ask her if she’s hurt.”
Denny punched the button. “You hurt?”
“No, I’m…” Arms around herself, she closed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t know. Please, tell Jude that I have to see him.”
A thousand possibilities crowded through Jude’s brain, but none of them made sense. He refused to act on emotion, no matter that May often drove him to extremes of melodrama. He was a man who weighed his options, who considered all the angles.
Her presence here now afforded him the opportunity to salvage a little pride. He could refuse to see her, as she’d refused him. He could tell her to take a hike, as she’d told him…
Right. He already knew he wouldn’t do that, so delaying the inevitable only tortured them both. “Let her in.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” For whatever reason, she’d come to him. This time he’d keep the upper hand. “Tell her to wait in the library.”
“The library? But that’s upstairs—”
“Across from my bedroom, I know.” The circumstances distracted Jude enough that he didn’t even mind Denny’s look of censure. “The sooner you do it, the sooner you can get back to bed.”
Denny snorted. “As if I’d be able to sleep now.” The buzzer sounded, and Jude heard Denny say, “Drive through, miss. I’ll meet you at the front door.”
Energized, Jude went up the stairs, then down the hall to the master bedroom. Pausing at the entrance to the room, he formulated a plan, one that would go a long way toward restoring his good humor.
God, if Hollywood could see him now. He’d fended off bloodthirsty groupies of the SBC, as well as some of the sexiest marriage-minded starlets in the world. He’d won championship belts in two weight classes, and beaten a murder rap without ever showing the public his rage, or his hurt. He’d taken good movie reviews in stride and bad movie reviews on the chin. No matter what they threw at him, he’d remained imperturbable.
Now one small female had turned him upside down, and he felt like a junkyard dog around a bitch in heat, surly, angry, and hungry. Being with her, having her, consumed his thoughts.
One way or another, he’d reclaim the calm composure associated with his n
ame.
He went to the wall monitor positioned near his door, watching as she drove up to the house. May had finally come to him. Before she left, she’d be his in every way.
Chapter 5
Anxiety churned in May’s stomach, making her ill. Was she doing the right thing? If she didn’t call the police, would Jude end up hurt, too? Her decisions could cause more problems, could endanger others.
But what if she went to the police, and they never found out who wanted Jude dead?
In equal parts, she wanted to throw up, turn the car around, drive away, and disown her brother. But none of those options would get the results she needed. The responsibility for helping her brother fell to her shoulders, because no one else could do it.
Certainly not her mother or father.
Definitely not Tim himself.
And because she believed the horror of it, she doubted that even the cops could unravel such a mystery. Tim didn’t know who had beaten him, and they couldn’t put him under twenty-four-hour surveillance.
Without a name, the insane threat against her brother—and Jude—would forever be there.
No one had followed her, she was sure of that. It amazed her that she’d made it to Jude’s in one piece. Between her shaking hands, her repeated glances in the rearview mirror, and her nervousness at what she needed to say to Jude, she’d probably been the worst driver on the road.
Her tires slipped in the mud and leaves as she accelerated through the ornate gate to the sweeping drive in front of Jude’s mansion. Immediately, the gate clanked shut again behind her. The sun had yet to rise, but gray dawn lightened the sky, and as she neared Jude’s house, she could see the enormity of the structure, the aura of wealth.
Wide porches, one for the first floor and one for the second, wrapped around the grand structure of brick and stone. A sweeping cobblestone walkway led to double columns at the entrance. At any other time, she probably would have appreciated the details of his home, the meticulous landscaping, the fountains and faceted windows.
Right now, she only concentrated on getting inside. To her nervous observation, Jude’s home looked huge, unwelcoming, cold and dark.
A six-car garage sat to the side, but given the hurried nature of her visit, she parked Ashley’s brightly colored car right in front of the entry door. Floodlights came on, blinding her but lighting the yard to make it easier for her to navigate.
