Jude's Law

by Lori Foster

  “That’s not true!”

  “The hell it isn’t. You sickened her as much as you do me.”

  Blind with rage, Elton lashed out, swinging hard.

  Jude leaned back a scant few inches so that Elton’s punch missed the mark, sending him off balance. He found himself kissing the pavement.

  Footsteps pounded toward them.

  Bending down, his knee in the small of Elton’s back, Jude knotted his hand in the coarse blond hair. He wrenched Elton’s face, now marred with gravel and grit, up and back. “Call them off again, Pascal. Do it now, before I decide you’re not worth the effort.”

  “Stay back,” Elton wheezed. “Damn it, stay back.” He panted, wincing in pain as Jude’s fingers tightened in his hair.

  “Jesus, Elton.” Jude dredged up a laugh to conceal his disgust. “I’m too fast, and you’re too clumsy and slow, for you to pull such a stupid stunt.” Every muscle in Jude’s body twitched with the need for violence. But he had Ed taking photos and recording everything, so he wouldn’t lose his cool. Dredging up his famous calm façade, he said, “Now, pay attention. Blair Kane is dead. You can’t bring her back. I can’t bring her back. You might as well let it go.”

  A sob broke from his throat, and he shook his head, inadvertently increasing the hold Jude had on his hair. “I can’t.”

  Stupid fool. Jude shoved his head away and pushed back to his feet. Staring down at Pascal, he almost felt pity. Almost.

  “I’ve had enough, Elton. I suggest you face reality, that you give up your ridiculous vengeance and accept how wrong you are, how wrong you’ve always been. Then get out of Ohio.”

  “I have business here.” Slowly, Elton lumbered into a sitting position. With one shaky hand, he smoothed back his hair and wiped sweat from his face. Two deep breaths later, his arrogance semi-restored, he glared up at Jude. “There’s property for sale in Newport, just over the river. I might open a—”

  “Spare me your details. I don’t care what you’re doing.”

  Elton’s face pinched up. “I’m just saying, you have no right to try to run me off.”

  Jude fashioned his meanest smile. “Go. Stay. I really don’t give a fuck what you do as long as you leave me the hell alone. I mean it, Elton. The phone calls and the threats stop. Now.”

  Elton flinched at that commanding tone. “I… I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Jude crouched down in front of him. Legs spread wide, wrists resting across his knees, he stared into Elton’s glassy eyes. “I’ve let you run your mouth. I’ve let you slander me. But you finally crossed the line—and we both know it. Now it’s time for you to be smart and let it go.” His tone hardened, leaving no room for doubt. “Because if you push me again, I’ll walk right through your men to get you, Elton. That’s a promise.”

  Back on his feet, temper still primed for a fight, Jude walked away from Elton, deliberately striding into the group of men who waited anxiously for direction from their boss. They had to scramble out of Jude’s way to keep from being plowed over, and in the deepest, darkest part of himself, Jude wanted one of them to try something, anything.

  The need to battle burned in his gut. He wanted to strike out.

  He wanted to make Elton bleed.

  No one spoke to him; the men hurried to Elton, dusting him off and grumbling in a low drone. Left with no other recourse, Jude got into his car and watched until they’d loaded up and driven out of sight. He realized his hands gripped the steering wheel with crushing force, and he concentrated on relaxing his fingers.

  Seconds later, he saw Ashley dash toward her little yellow Civic. Now that the excitement had ended, she looked to be in a hurry.

  Had he made her late for work? He hoped not. But it pleased him that she had enough sense not to risk a wave in his direction. No one could know she’d ratted on Elton. No one.

  Ashley drove out of the lot and sped down the street. He’d have to check on her later—after he’d dealt with May.

  Ed Burton started his car and with one friendly toot, he, too, drove off. Jude would talk with him later, as prearranged. Hopefully, Ed had gotten some good shots. But whatever showed up on his film, by agreement, he wouldn’t run them yet

  No, Ed would wait for the exclusive interview Jude had promised to him. If all else failed, that’d be Jude’s ace in the hole.

  With everyone else gone, he fired up the Porsche and started home. But the edge on his temper remained. He’d have to work it out in the gym before talking with May. He’d angered her enough for one day.

  ———

  Paranoia wasn’t a normal part of Ashley’s psyche, but she could almost swear someone followed her. Lights had flashed in her rearview mirror many times, but then, she wasn’t the only one on the streets that time of night. She moved in and out of traffic but couldn’t be sure if the lights that reappeared behind her were the same.

  Foregoing a turn signal, she took a sharp right into the office building’s entrance—and watched the other headlights pass by. She breathed a sigh of relief, but still couldn’t shake off the sense of invasion.

  The parking garage was dark and mostly deserted, and the idea of getting out alone didn’t thrill her. But after hanging around to see that most impressive conflict between Jude and the other men, she knew if she lingered any longer, she’d be late for sure.

  Pushing her unease aside, she pulled into the closest parking spot she could find and killed the engine. The sense of being watched niggled on her mind, making her clumsy as she dropped her keys into her purse and opened her door. She stepped out, looked around, and saw nothing but a few deserted cars, shadows, and drifting debris.

  The closing of her door echoed like canon blast.

  She could hear herself breathing, sucking the hot, humid evening air into her lungs too fast, too deep. “Get a grip, Ash,” she told herself. Sheesh. What was she, three years old and afraid of bogeymen?

  Thrusting up her chin and straightening her shoulders, she started forward—and something moved behind her.

  “Do you always talk to yourself—”

  Screaming, Ashley turned and lashed out with a closed fist. She connected with a rock-hard shoulder, heard a masculine grunt, and started to swing again.

  “Whoa!” Muscled arms locked around her, pulling her in tight.

  Just as she’d been taught, she brought her knee up hard and fast, only to miss the mark and connect with a thick thigh instead.

  “Ow. Damn it. Settle down.”

  Her purse fell from her hand, dumping the contents with a clatter. She twisted and fought and—

  “Ashley, calm down.”

  Oh, crap. At the familiar voice, her racing heart slowed to a steadier beat.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?”

  She went limp. The hands holding her loosened. Breath, and maybe a light kiss, touched her ear.

  “You…” Words seemed beyond her as she tried to bank the adrenaline rush brought on by sheer terror.

  “Yes?” came Quinton Murphy’s teasing, amused reply.

  “Jerk.”

  Laughing, he leaned away to see her face but kept his hands locked at the small of her back. His smile tantalized. His eyes seduced.

  “Now, is that any way to talk to a guy,” he asked, “who’s waited hours just to see you?”

  His voice… Man, Quinton had a nice, deep, rich voice.

  Ashley shoved him away. “You scared the hell out of me. What do you think you’re doing, lurking around like a blasted serial killer?” She took in the sight of her dumped purse and groaned. “Damn it. Now I’m going to be late.”

  They both bent down at the same time and clunked heads. Ashley fell back onto her butt. Quinton cursed.

  Rubbing at her forehead, she said, “Go away. Leave me alone.”

  One brow rose an inch. “And here I’d hoped you would be happy to see me.”

  God, she acted like a bitch. “Sorry.” The surly reply didn’t hold
much sincerity, but under the circumstances, she couldn’t do any better. “I haven’t had much sleep and it’s been one heck of a day.”

  “I understand.”

  She picked up her wallet, a hairbrush, and a lipstick.

  He picked up her spare tampon and sunglasses.

  Ashley snatched them out of his hand. Jamming things into her purse, she said with a lot of skepticism, “So you waited this late just to see me, huh? You didn’t have work to do or anything?”

  Taking her elbow, he helped her to her feet and flashed a grin. “Okay, so I had a little work that kept me over. But I was ready to go forty minutes ago. Then I realized you’d be in soon and decided to hang around.”

  “To scare ten years off my life.” With a quick glance at her watch, she turned to head in.

  Quinton kept pace beside her. “When do you get your first break?”

  “I haven’t even clocked in yet. And in about two minutes, I’ll be late.”

  “You like to cut it close, do you?”

  “No. Usually I like to be here early.” As they crossed the foyer, Flint, the security guard, spotted her. His face lit up, and he started to wave—then he saw Quinton behind her and the smile changed to a frown.

  Quinton lifted his hand in a jovial wave.

  Elbowing him, Ashley said, “Stop that.”

  Together, they got onto the elevator to go down to the basement. The doors slid shut, sealing them inside, and a new tension filled Ashley’s stomach.

  Silence hummed. Her nerves jangled. Quinton stood silently beside her, looking at her, smiling.

  Smelling good.

  Giving off heat.

  Making her oh so aware of him…

  She couldn’t take it. She rounded on him—and the elevator doors opened.

  “Thirty seconds,” he said. “Hustle.”

  With a huff, she jogged to the time clock and punched in her card with just a few seconds to spare. She didn’t bother to look at Quinton as she went into the employee break room, opened her metal locker, and stored her stuff.

  From close behind her—real close—she heard, “Nice shirt.”

  Yeah, it had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now the glitzy shirt just felt like overkill. “Thanks,” she said with false sweetness. She slammed the locker shut, turned—and he was right there, a scant breath away, a colossal temptation.

  His gaze on her mouth, he said softly, “I am sorry I frightened you in the garage.”

  Wow. Ashley had the feeling that he knew exactly how his close proximity affected her. He probably knew everything there was to know about women. He probably knew how to make a woman sing.

  She didn’t care, damn it.

  That is, she didn’t care until he cupped her face in warm hands.

  “I tried to forget about you,” he whispered. “But it’s impossible.”

  Scoffing, albeit in a breathless way, she said, “What a practiced line. I bet you’ve said it at least a dozen times.”

  Wearing a look of concern and confusion, as if his reaction to her took him by surprise, he said, “I swear, it’s making me nuts, wondering how you taste.”

  She would not be the typical female. “Uh-huh.”

  “I lied earlier.” His thumbs brushed her cheeks, went under her chin, and lifted her face. Full of seriousness and molten sex appeal, he looked into her eyes. “Work didn’t keep me here. I just… waited for you.”

  She would not do the expected, damn him. She was a strong, independent woman, in charge of her life. One super-hot guy would not take out her knees. “Is that right?”

  A half smile appeared. “I lay awake all last night, thinking about kissing you.”

  Ashley stared at him. He wanted her to be flattered. He wanted her to be flustered.

  He wanted her to want him—and she did. But she’d play by her rules, which’d keep her ahead of the game.

  Cocking out her hip, she grinned. “Poor baby. I was too busy last night to think of you at all.” His piercing green eyes cooled a bit. “But, you know, I don’t want your loss of sleep blamed on me, so…”

  Deliberately taking him by surprise, she grabbed him around the neck, pulled his head down, and plastered her mouth to his. She heard his startled inhalation and felt the rigidity of his body… for about two seconds.

  Then he gathered her close and took over, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it except succumb.

  She’d meant the kiss to be pushy. More overkill to go with the shirt. But as his hands spread out wide over her back, and he aligned his body with hers, letting her feel every inch of his hard frame, and his tongue touched hers, then sank in for a long, leisurely taste, she forgot whatever half-baked plan she’d had.

  The break room turned into a sauna.

  Her stupid knees did go weak.

  How long they kissed, Ashley couldn’t say. Her awareness existed only of him, his scent, his taste, the ripening sensation of pleasure all through her body.

  Then his hands slid up her waist, higher and higher, until his thumbs were beneath her breasts and she knew he’d touch her. Any second now, he’d be feeling up her boobs and she had to get herself together.

  Turning her face away, Ashley rasped, “That’s enough.”

  His harsh breathing fanned her neck. Heat poured off him. His fingers contracted, then went loose and slid back down to safer ground. “I’m sorry. That got out of hand.”

  “Yeah.” She needed three more breaths before she could converse in complete sentences. “Give me some room, will ya?”

  His temple touching hers, he brushed his mouth over her jaw—and stepped back.

  Ash looked at him. Or more specifically, she looked at the signs of arousal that were so clear: the glittering eyes, the heightened color in his cheekbones, the taut muscles. She shouldn’t have, but she slid her gaze along the length of his body until she saw the impressive boner beneath his slacks. New desire mushroomed inside her.

  “This is crazy.”

  “Can you please not stare? You’re making it worse.”

  She rubbed her face, dropped her head back against the locker, and closed her eyes. “I don’t even know you.”

  “Get to know me.”

  He sounded almost urgent, maybe even desperate, edging on angry.

  Quinton Murphy was a very confusing man. Ashley worked a believable laugh past the emotion clogging her throat. “No way. What I do know about you keeps you on the short list.”

  “Short list?”

  “Of men not to get involved with.” She waved her hand at him, indicting his body, his mind, his… everything. “You know, rich men who get whatever they want. Spoiled men.”

  The description displeased him. “As you said, you don’t know me.”

  She shrugged. “Actually, my list is nonexistent, so it’s a moot point. I’m not about to get involved with anyone. But even if I wanted to, you wouldn’t be the right man.”

  Hardened resolve changed his expression. He looked her over and half smiled. “Your body disagreed.” Without seeming to move, he was closer again, intoxicating her with that delicious scent. “Your nipples were hard, you sucked on my tongue, and you were moaning enough to alert the night guards.”

  Mortified heat rushed up her neck.

  “And all I’d wanted was a simple kiss.” He chucked her under the chin. “I’d say that makes me the right man.”

  “Then you’d be wrong.” Not since high school had she let anyone of the opposite sex goad her into a temper. She wanted to lash out. She wanted to storm off.

  But she was a fair person, and he spoke only the truth. She had been all over him. If she’d kissed him someplace other than her work, her reaction might have taken them straight to bed.

  And by the looks of him, he knew it.

  She laughed, at him and at herself. That she’d let a near stranger get to her so much was hilarious. “Let’s call this a temporary loss of insanity and move on, okay?”

  More confused than ever,
he scowled. “I don’t want to move on.”

  “Sorry, but you’re going to have to.” So that there’d be no more misunderstandings, and no more kissing, Ashley broke one of her rules and explained. “I don’t have time for dating, Quenton, and even if I did, it’d take one hell of a man to be better than no man at all.”

  Considering that a great parting remark, she walked away. But with every step that separated them, she was aware of Quinton just standing there, watching her go. Likely a little insulted. In no way giving up.

  Probably feeling challenged.

  She glanced over her shoulder and saw him smiling after her. Oh yeah, definitely challenged. A little thrill of excitement ran up her spine.

  Why oh why did she have to meet him now?

  Chapter 15

  By the time Jude parked the Porsche in the six-car garage and cut the engine, he was, if anything, more furious than he’d been while confronting Elton.

  He needed an outlet. He needed to burn off the anger. Denny would understand his mood, but he couldn’t say the same for May. Going straight to the gym and talking to her afterward would be a wise choice.

  Unfortunately, May had watched for him through the property monitors, and she met him in the side hallway that led from the garage to the main living quarters. Before he could even take a breath, she launched into an inquisition.

  “Are you okay?” Leaving no time for him to reply, she clutched his sleeve and asked, “Is Ashley all right? Was it Elton?” She shook his arm. “You didn’t fight with anyone, did you?”

  Hands on his hips, Jude stared down at her. “Have you been stewing this whole damn time?”

  At his tone, which even he had to admit was surly, her back went ramrod straight and she looked at him over the top of her glasses. “What did you think I’d do? Play cards? Do my hair? Go to bed?”

  Her sarcasm unraveled his control. “Any of those things would have been preferable to thinking that I’d let something happen to Ashley, or that I’d let Elton get the best of me!”