Nobody But You

by Julie Kenner

  Considering that Tasha’s organizational system consisted of throwing shoes randomly into the back of the closet, Jacey didn’t worry about making a mess. Instead, she plowed in, tossing nos and maybes left and right until she finally—finally—found a single strappy black pump. A definite yes.

  Except, of course, its mate was missing.

  Frantic, she glanced at her watch. She could spare five more minutes before she had to rush down to the parking garage and convince Lucy to start. The new window was great, but Lucy herself had developed attitude. She was slow to start and Jacey was sure the car was doling out punishment for Jacey leaving her all alone.

  Unfortunately, Jacey hadn’t had the time to take a peek at the engine. This weekend, though, Lucy was definitely getting a tune-up.

  She rummaged a bit more and found the left shoe, then scooted backward out of the closet. Shoes in hand, she raced back down the hall toward the bathroom, slipping and sliding on the floor so much that she’d be lucky if she didn’t fall and break her neck. Of course, since the possibility of losing this job for being late seemed greater than the probability of total paralysis caused by floor slippage, she didn’t slow down.

  Instead, she took the corner at a full run, grabbed onto the doorjamb, and swung herself around, pushing the bathroom door in on her upswing. But instead of the door slamming back against the hard edge of the ancient clawfoot tub, this time it opened only a few inches—stopping cold with a sharp crack followed almost instantaneously by a deep, loud howl—a decidedly human howl.

  “Mr. Lowenstein!” Jacey cried, even as her feet slipped out from under her. Despite scrambling for purchase, she went down, her butt landing with a thwap on the floor.

  She scrambled to her knees, alternatively mortified that she’d probably just given her landlord a concussion and irritated that the robust old man had come in unannounced to snake the bathtub drain even though she and Tasha had insisted they only wanted him to fix the kitchen sink.

  With one hand rubbing the sore spot on her butt, she grabbed the doorknob and hoisted herself up. She pressed her shoulder against the door and gently pushed it in.

  “Mr. Lowenstein? Are you okay?”

  No answer.

  Worried now, Jacey pushed the door open a few more inches. “Sir?” Again, nothing, and she shoved against the door with her full weight, needing to get it open at least enough to squeeze through so she could check on her landlord. It moved about seven inches, then stopped again, hitting up against something soft but unyielding.

  “Mr. Lowenstein?” she whispered again, as she squeezed through the space between the door and the doorframe. Hip first, then her shoulder, then her head, then—

  Oh, shit!

  A scream ripped from her throat, her heart pounding a staccato rhythm as she pressed back against the wall, her gaze pinned to the body on the floor.

  A body that was so not Mr. Lowenstein. She reminded herself to breathe, gulping air as she edged back toward the door, her eyes never leaving him. A big guy, with hands that looked like they could crush her skull. And with the red, angry scar tracing down his face, she believed he’d happily do so.

  She gulped air, her mind trying to process the situation.

  Run.

  Her feet had turned to granite.

  Run.

  Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, dueling with the ragged sound of her breath.

  Run.

  The human mound on the tile floor shifted, emitting a strangled moan like the sound of a sick cat. The eyes peeled open, bloodshot and angry.

  Run!

  Finally, the synapses fired and she ran, racing down the hall toward the door. She flew out of her apartment and pounded on her neighbor’s door.

  Mrs. Lebowitz was half-blind and half-deaf, but Jacey didn’t care. The second she opened the door, Jacey pushed past, heading for the elderly woman’s phone.

  “A m-m-man,” Jacey managed, tripping over the words as she dialed 911. “There’s a man on my floor.”

  Chapter 9

  There’s one thing I can say about me—I don’t take no for an answer. And if somebody slaps a mystery down in front of me, I’m going to solve it. Hourly rate or not.

  Mallory may have fired me, but I intended to find Sarah anyway, with or without Mallory’s C-notes. The trouble was, I didn’t know where to look. I was back to square one and this time I didn’t even have the promise of Mallory’s lovely legs urging me on.

  I paced in front of Sadie’s desk and laid the whole shebang out for her. Sometimes another pair of ears helps and sometimes I just need a change of scenery. I’ll say this for Sadie, she was easy on the eyes.

  “Damn frustrating,” I said, wrapping up my story. “And I’m at a dead end.”

  “Yeah?” She passed me the morning paper. “Then let me show you a detour.”

  No headline, just one note in a bulleted list of stories. Kenny Townsend found dead in the Los Angeles River. If Sarah Stamp was still alive, she wasn’t going to be too keen to get the news that her boyfriend was dead.

  “Who’s the badge on the case?” I asked, knowing Sadie would have already found that out for me.

  “You’re in luck. It’s Turner.”

  I nodded. Turner and I went way back. Officially, he didn’t approve of my methods. Unofficially, he passed me information and on occasion relied on me to take care of a problem or two that he couldn’t deal with without risking his badge.

  In other words, Turner owed me. And he was as good a place to start as any.

  David screeched to a stop in front of Jacey’s building, the stone in his stomach morphing into a full-fledged boulder. Three cop cars—lights flashing—were parked in front of the building and an ambulance was pulling away. No light on the ambulance and that wasn’t a good sign. Dead people didn’t need to be rushed to the hospital.

  With no place to park, he left the car in the street and ran toward the building, hoping against hope that Jacey wasn’t involved, even while fighting the certain knowledge that she was right smack in the middle of it.

  He bumped into his buddy, Detective Mike Cartwright, coming down the stairs.

  “Shit, Anderson. What? Do you just smell trouble.”

  David swallowed. “Who?” he asked, forcing the word past the lump that had moved from his stomach to his throat.

  “Woman named Jacey Wilder.” Mike flipped through his notes. “Looks like a burglary gone bad.”

  David thought of that slow-moving ambulance and felt the blood drain from his face. “Is she…?”

  “The victim’s fine,” Mike said, and David released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Shook up, but fine.”

  “Thank God,” David whispered. He started to shove past Cartwright, determined to get to Jacey. He needed to see her. Needed to hold her, look her in the eyes, and know that she was all right.

  Mike looked up from his pad, for the first time really seeing David, and his expression changed, shifting from detached professional to concerned friend. “Aw, hell, David. I thought you were just chasing the police band. You know her?”

  “Client,” David said, although she was so much more than that. He started toward the stairs again, but Mike pulled him back.

  “Over there,” he said, pointing toward the entrance to the parking garage. “She wanted to sit in her car until we need to talk to her again.” He caught David’s eye. “The lady’s not having the best of days.”

  “That’s the understatement of the decade.” He took a step toward the garage, then stopped and reluctantly turned back to Mike. He wanted to see Jacey, but he also wanted to know what the hell was going on. “The ambulance was for the perp?”

  “If there’d been a perp, yeah, we planned to haul him away in that. Your lady said he was flat on his back on her bathroom floor. By the time we got here, he was gone.” He frowned, his hand balling into a fist. “I hate it when they do that.”

  “So you got nothing?”

  “We’ve got blood o
n the inside of the bathroom door and blood on the side of the tub.” He made a pushing motion with his hand. “I’m thinking she went slamming into the room, whonked him a good one on the nose, and he fell back and cracked his skull on the porcelain.”

  “So all we need to do is find a thug with a headache,” David said with a wry smile. He cocked his head toward the garage. “We’ll talk later. I’m going to go check on her.”

  He found her sitting in her car, her hands clutching the steering wheel so tight her knuckles were white. When he bent down and poked his head in the window, she jumped so high he thought she was going to hit her head on the roof.

  Her hand flew to her chest and she twisted around. The second she saw him, her eyes lit up and she smiled. For that one brief moment, David was certain his heart was going to melt.

  “David!” she said, fumbling to get the door open. She couldn’t seem to manage, so he opened it for her and she all but collapsed into his arms.

  “Hey, hush, it’s okay,” he whispered, stroking her back as she clung to him.

  “It is not okay,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by his shoulder. “There was a man in my bathroom. How could it possibly be okay?”

  “I know, babe. But you’re okay now.” He pulled her close, overwhelmed by an urgent need to protect her. “I’m here now.”

  He held her tight and kissed her forehead. Somewhere along the line he’d fallen for this woman. A girl he had absolutely no intention of falling for. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks and he pushed the thought away. He could worry about that later. Right now, he was just happy that she was safe. He looked at her again. “You are okay, aren’t you?”

  She nodded. “I’m fine. I thought my heart was going to explode out of my chest, but I’m fine now.”

  “Cartwright said you banged into him?”

  She nodded. “I was rushing to get dressed and I ran into the bathroom. I guess I knocked him out with the door.” She shivered. “And then I saw him.” She hugged herself. “I don’t really want to think about it right now,” she added.

  He nodded in understanding, willing to let her take her time telling him.

  After a second, she aimed a tentative smile at him, her hands moving to smooth her skirt. That’s when he noticed her outfit. He took a step back, his eyes skimming down her body even as his fingers itched to follow the same path. “You look…different. Hell, you look hot.” Did she ever. In that tight skirt, tailored jacket, and silk shirt, she looked like she could have stepped off the pages of his novel.

  “You’re just saying that to get my mind off all of this,” she said.

  “No, sweetheart, I’m saying it because it’s true. You’re hot.” Damn hot. And although he wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, his body seemed more than happy to just enjoy the ride.

  Her eyes, red and weepy, met his. “Really?”

  “Hell yes.”

  She lowered her gaze, her cheeks stained with pink. “Thank you,” she said, talking more or less to her shoes. Like the rest of the outfit, the shoes played right into his own personal fantasy. The one where he was Monroe and the sexy client stripped down in his office and they did it on the desktop—with her still wearing a garter, stockings, a push-up bra, and fuck-me heels.

  He shifted, trying to ignore the way every ounce of blood in his body was rushing to his crotch. “So why the new duds?”

  “First day on the job. I wanted to make an impression.”

  “I guess so.”

  She glanced at her watch. “Of course, I’ll probably make a huge impression coming in three hours late.”

  “Are they still expecting you?”

  She shook her head, exhaling a loud breath. “No. I called right after the police got here.” She shrugged. “I just feel guilty for coming in so late.”

  He laughed. “Sweetheart, there was an intruder in your apartment. I think that falls under the heading of legitimate excuse.”

  “I guess.” She still looked dubious.

  “Even if you could leave right now, you still wouldn’t get there before four.”

  He shifted her, draping his arm over her shoulder and pulling her close. She pressed against him, a little sigh escaping her lips even as her floral scent tickled his nose. Light and flirty, the scent stood in stark contrast to the all-business suit she had on. To David’s surprise, he found her softer scent even more of a turn-on than the tight suit with the fuck-me heels. The scent was Jacey. The suit was a businesswoman he’d never actually met before.

  “Just blow it off,” he said, trying to get his head back to the matter at hand. “Go in tomorrow and start fresh.” He looked down at her. “Besides, we need to talk.”

  For a second, he thought she was going to argue. But then she nodded. “All right.” She twisted around, looking toward the parking garage exit. “Do you think they’re about through? I need to get back in my apartment.”

  “Are you nuts? You’re not staying in that apartment tonight.”

  She looked at him like he was nuts. “Of course I’m not sleeping here. I’m heading straight to a hotel and ordering room service.”

  He chuckled. Apparently he’d watched one too many horror movies where the innocent little female stupidly insists on going back into the murderer’s house. “Good. Until we get you an alarm system and check your locks, it’s too risky.”

  “We?”

  He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I want to make sure you do the job right.”

  “Oh.” She didn’t quite meet his eyes. “Thanks.” She drew in a long breath. “But I do need to get my overnight bag and call Tasha so she knows to stay the night at Bob’s.” She gnawed on her lip. “Not that I’m too crazy about going back in there right now.”

  “So don’t. I’ll go up for you. And you can call Tasha from my cell phone.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of everything.”

  She nodded, then nibbled on her thumbnail as she considered him, her head tilted slightly to the left.

  “What?” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, even as his other hand sneaked a quick check of his fly. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. It’s just…” She trailed off with shrug. “You’re just being so…never mind.” She looked up at him. “Like I said, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Her green eyes burned with emerald ice and he felt his mouth go dry as he fought the sudden, overwhelming urge to kiss her. That was an urge he needed to fight. He might want to make love to her, but he didn’t want more than that. And Jacey had made it perfectly clear that unless she was getting the whole package, she wasn’t interested in the man.

  “So what do we need to talk about?” she asked.

  He frowned, not wanting to bring Al into the mix. “Later, sweetheart. Let’s get you through this first.”

  She nodded. “You want to follow me to the hotel? We can talk there, I guess.”

  “No way, babe,” he said. “You’re staying with me.”

  Jacey swallowed, the idea of staying in David’s house intriguing her more than it should. She shook her head; she needed to be practical. Reasonable. Smart.“I think maybe a hotel would be better.”

  “I don’t,” David said.

  She ran her tongue over her teeth. “Considering it’s my credit card and my life, what I think carries a little more weight.”

  The corner of his mouth curved up, revealing the dimple she’d noticed before. “What’s the matter, babe?” he asked, a tease in his voice. “Don’t trust yourself with me?”

  She took a deep breath, deciding that maybe honesty was the best policy. “As a matter of fact, I don’t.” She’d already let him go too far—and the temptation to jump right into a repeat performance was strong.

  His eyes widened and she realized that she’d surprised him. He opened his mouth and she steeled herself for a sarcastic comeback. Instead, he just closed his mouth as his shoulders sagged. He ran his
fingers through his hair, shaking his head almost imperceptibly as real compassion reflected in his eyes.

  She nibbled on the side of her thumb, not at all sure what to think.

  He put his hands on her shoulders. “Forget what happened in the store and in my living room,” he finally said, his words both soothing and surprising. “You take the bed and I’ll take the couch. Nothing’s going to happen.” His chest rose as he drew in a breath. “I know you’re not interested—”

  “I didn’t say that,” she protested, wanting to be certain he understood. “It’s just that—”

  “You don’t want to be interested.”

  She pressed her lips together and nodded.

  “You’re not looking for a guy like me and I’m not looking for a girl, period,” he said, his summation making her a little sad. “But there’s chemistry here,” he said, gesturing between the two of them, “and I’m not scared to admit it.”

  She crossed her arms, meeting his challenge. “I’m not scared to admit it, either. Heck, I just did admit it.”

  He rolled one shoulder. “Well, I know I can control myself.” He tilted his head. “Or are you worried about how you might behave…?”

  She was afraid; she was very afraid. That, however, wasn’t something she was willing to admit. “I’ll take the couch,” she said. “I’m not going to kick you out of your bedroom.”

  The skin around his eyes crinkled. “We’ll see,” he murmured. His gaze burned against her and she wondered if he intended to back away from his promise to control himself. She hoped not, because if he backed off of his promise, her resolve would surely shatter. David had a way of looking at her that broke down all her barriers, that was uncomfortable and flattering all at the same time.

  Basically, David’s lingering glances made her feel sexy. And until she’d met David, she hadn’t felt sexy in a long time. Not since March. Not since Al.