by Regan Black
“Yeah.” She closed her laptop and rested her hands lightly on the top. “I hope we’re on the right track,” she murmured, her brow furrowed as she gazed through the window to the dark street.
“Worried I’ll knock the wrong heads together before we have evidence and facts?”
“No.” She turned her attention to him and her lips curved into a sly smile. “If it comes to that, I know a great attorney who can help you beat assault charges.”
He laughed, pushing himself out of the chair, pleased she could make jokes about the situation. “Let’s get some rest.” He stretched his arms high over his head, regretting he’d kept her up so late.
She didn’t budge, just stared at him with a gaze that mirrored the hunger and longing churning inside him. “I overreacted earlier,” she stated. “About tomorrow.”
“I know.” He grinned at her. “I’ll get you through it unscathed. I have a lifetime of experience.”
Her lips twitched but she didn’t smile. “I just... I don’t have the best track record with family dynamics,” she stated. “You’ve helped me and I don’t want to create problems for you or your family.”
He pulled out the chair and turned it so he could straddle the seat, stacking his arms across the top rail as he sat down again. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” The answer shimmered in the depths of her green eyes.
“No. Not right now,” she added quickly. “Dwelling on my past...um...failures will make me more nervous than I am already.”
He didn’t press the issue, yet she didn’t seem ready to call it a night. “What do you need, Julia?”
The question seemed to startle her. She fidgeted in her chair and gave her attention to the water bottle on the table as she avoided his gaze. “Sleep, I suppose,” she said, shutting him out once more.
He could take a hint. He stood up once more and slid the chair in properly. “Then we have a plan.” In a perfect world she’d sleep beside him, but he had to settle for across the hall. For now. Although her circumstances had forced them together, he wanted more. He refused to rush it and blow his chance to thoroughly explore what was simmering under the mutual attraction and heart-stopping kisses.
In the hallway between their bedroom doors, he said good-night, but she hesitated. “Mitch, why did you kiss me?”
“Which time?”
He liked the way her lips quirked as she thought about it. It was all he could do not to kiss her again while he waited for her reply.
“I’m not talking about those little pecks at lunchtime.” She turned the water bottle around and around in her hands. “I know those were for show.”
Maybe the first one, he thought.
“I’m referring to the kiss when we were leaving my apartment.”
“Because I needed it,” he confessed. She’d needed it, too. “Pulling up, seeing all the first responders...” He pushed a hand through his hair. “The bomb squad. Julia, the whole scene scared the hell out of me.”
She nodded. “Me, too.”
“I never should have left you. Grant raked me over the coals for the assumption.” He breached the narrow gap between them and smoothed a wayward lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re so warm,” he murmured. Nothing like the cold-blooded-shark attorney she had to be in the office. “You were chilled, by the weather and the attack. I needed the reassurance that you were alive and well.”
“I’ve been so focused on my career I think forgot I needed that, too.” She moved into him and looped her hands around his neck. “Thank you.” Her lips brushed his. “For the reminder.”
A white-hot bolt of need blazed across his senses and he seized control of the kiss, slanting his mouth across hers. He wrapped her in his arms, her breasts soft against his chest. At her little, pleasured gasp, he took full advantage, his tongue dueling with hers.
Still, he wasn’t close enough. He stroked his hands over the curve of her hips, and boosted her up until her legs came around his waist. Almost. Almost close enough.
With her body caught between his and the wall behind her, he flexed his hips. She answered with a soft moan, grinding the sweet juncture of her thighs against his erection. Mouths still fused with heat, he eased his hands under her sweater, inching higher until his hands were full of her lush breasts. Her legs tightened around his hips. He thumbed the pebbled tips of her breasts, relishing every sweet response she gave him.
He could hardly believe this woman, the one who resisted any invasion of her personal space, was practically molding her body to his. Open and eagerly granting him access to all of her. Too good to be true.
He kissed the shell of her ear, felt her shiver and absorbed it with his body. Kissing her jaw, he worked his way down that elegant throat until he felt her heartbeat racing under his lips. Better than he’d imagined.
“Mitch, wait.” She fisted her hands in his shirt and pushed a little, the effort creating hardly any distance.
He managed to stop kissing her despite the demands for more surging through his body.
“I let this go too far.” She brought his mouth back to hers, the kiss soft and slow. Sweet enough he might die from it. Cupping his face, she held him just out of reach, those green eyes smoldering. “We need to wait. I’m so sorry.” She shifted and her legs slid down his hips so she could stand on her own.
He marveled that she was steady when he wanted to crumple from the loss. “Okay.” Hell, he wanted to beg her to reconsider. He couldn’t get his brain to push the rest of the words, the right words, out of his mouth.
“Don’t be mad. I just can’t. Not...not tonight.”
“Okay,” he repeated, his voice rough as a hasp. There was no hiding the erection straining the limits of his button-fly jeans. “I’m not mad.” Frustrated? Definitely.
“I’m sorry.” She laid a hand over his pounding heart. “This—” she wagged a finger between them “—is so fast, so good, it scares me.”
Who had screwed her up so badly that she resisted affection and trust? Why did he feel the soul-deep need to fix it? “Then we slow it down.” He stepped out of reach before temptation obliterated the last of his common sense. “Whatever is between us is good.” And worth waiting for. “Fast or slow,” he added, “I want you. You need to be sure.”
She nibbled that full lower lip with her teeth. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
“Don’t do that. Don’t apologize to me.” Trust me! He thought his jaw might crack if he didn’t make a quick exit. “Good night,” he said, somehow managing to close his bedroom door gently when he was on the other side.
He leaned back against the door, listening as she made her way to and from the bathroom. He didn’t breathe easy until he heard her bedroom door close one final time. As he stripped off his clothes and slid between the sheets, he knew he was in for a long night. He might not have her in bed, but he knew she’d be starring in his dreams.
That wonderful temptation would have to satisfy him until she was ready to open up to him, body and soul.
*
With a Beethoven sonata lilting through the car’s speakers, Leo drove through the tidy working-class neighborhood and circled the block looking for the right opening. No one took any notice. People were too damned complacent.
His computer genius had alerted him to the activity on Julia’s laptop, confirming the boyfriend had gotten a look at him in the coffee shop. Leo couldn’t let that go, even if their search wasn’t even warm yet.
K-Chase had earned his pay when he’d tracked down the pair, and earned another bonus as he gathered intel on the boyfriend. Julia and her suspended fireman thought they were clever, moving out of her apartment, but they weren’t out of his reach. If Leo had his way, she never would be. He knew she’d recovered her belongings, having watched her do it, and he gave them points for keeping her cell phone turned off. The challenge would only make the outcome more satisfying.
After reviewing the report from his computer genius, Leo had decided the new man in Julia’
s life was certainly not an investigator or even much of a bodyguard. He was more an inconvenience. Adding another body to the rising count didn’t worry him, though he was considering all his options. His goal was reaching his brother before disaster struck. The prize was Julia.
She’d surprised him, enlisting help and disguising it as a love interest. The move kept her firmly in the category of potential long-term asset. A shrewd and fierce defense attorney was helpful, and this one was nice to look at.
He’d shifted his tactics with that in mind, testing her to see how hard she’d scramble to stay on the biggest case of her career. She had yet to cave and confess her troubles to her superiors, but he sensed she wasn’t quite ready to cooperate.
That was fine. He appreciated her fortitude. He didn’t trust people who caved too quickly. According to his sources, his brother was merely posturing to keep the prosecution interested in dealing. Until Danny had to put up or shut up, Leo was free to toy with Julia and test her limits.
Leo’s phone rang through the car speakers, interrupting the sonata. “Go,” he answered.
“It’s done,” the female voice on the other end of the call responded. “You are secure.”
“And you are a day late.” He’d hired her to make sure the men who’d been arrested for impersonating policemen were silenced, swiftly and permanently. Leo would cut her pay by a third, knowing she was too desperate to complain.
“Were they interrogated?”
“No. Mug shots, fingerprints, then a holding cell.” the woman confirmed. “You are secure,” she repeated.
Leo disconnected the call and hummed along as the sonata resumed. These were the decisions his brother struggled to make in a timely manner. People were necessary to a successful operation and yet every last one of them was replaceable.
He checked the addresses K-Chase had provided and resumed his study of the neighborhood. Leo preferred keeping the spitfire attorney on edge and learning how she reacted. She’d demonstrated a protective streak—and loyalty, too, currently applied to the wrong people. He’d thought she might be someone he could trust one day, assuming she accepted his offer. Then they could unlock her full potential and safely add her to his greater plan.
Chapter 11
When Sunday dawned in perfect autumn fashion, Julia wished she could simply climb out the window and run away. She couldn’t believe she’d agreed to attend family dinner this afternoon. Well, she hadn’t exactly agreed—Mitch had declared the debate over. Not a good sign. If her brain hadn’t been so muddled by his mere presence, she surely would have found a way to win the argument.
Thank goodness she’d mustered up the common sense to stop before they’d gone past the point of no return last night. Her body heated and her pulse skipped, remembering the feel of his mouth and hands and the remnants of the steamy, sensual ideas that had chased her in dreams.
It would be enough of a challenge hiding her feelings for Mitch from his family today. If she’d given in last night, it would have been certain disaster. She understood how important those bonds were to him and she didn’t want to give the people he loved any false hope or reason to doubt him when she was out of his life.
She rolled to her side, wondering if she should fake a stomach bug. Mitch didn’t know it, but he’d be better off that way. Maybe she should just tell him the whole damned story so he’d stop tempting her. If he knew how damaged she was, he’d be smart and run the other way as soon as possible.
The last time she’d been invited to a family dinner—her second semester of law school—it had gone so poorly her boyfriend had dumped her on the drive home. His parents had rooted out all of her secrets, embarrassing both of them, and he’d found creative and hurtful ways to retaliate during the remainder of their classes together.
The ugly memories sent a chill sliding over her body. That was when she’d shifted her focus into criminal defense. No one should be accused over appetizers, judged during the main course and declared guilty by dessert. She’d been blindsided, labeled as gold-digging trash and denied any chance to counter the allegations.
She rolled out of bed and quickly made it. At the door she paused, listening. Hopefully, Mitch was still sleeping. She wasn’t looking forward to facing him after last night’s attempt to climb his body like a strong tree. Battling against the urge to be a coward, she decided to reclaim her dignity and face him with self-respect and confidence.
She showered and dressed in jeans and a zip-up fleece and headed for the kitchen to make coffee and breakfast. There would be plenty of time to change into appropriate clothes and apply her makeup before they headed to the dinner.
Because she managed to think about it without cringing, she mentally gave herself a high five. She’d spent enough time with Mitch to realize he wasn’t anything like the jerk who’d screwed her over in law school. Surely those flaws would’ve shown up by now if he had that capacity for cruelty.
Resentment and shame from that terrible evening coursed through her, alongside fresh anger for letting the old baggage dictate her actions last night. She’d been afraid that if they’d slept together, his mother would know and call her out.
But Mitch wasn’t like the other guys she’d dated. He’d said she’d like his mom.
“Stupid,” she muttered. She thought she’d packed those old weaknesses away, yet here she was, cycling through them once more. What did Mitch see in a mess like her? And had she killed this chemistry between them by shutting down the passion last night?
She gathered up ingredients for pancakes. Hopefully, food was a positive strategy for putting them back on an even keel before she met his family. A special gesture might take the sting out of last night, though she avoided searching for a deeper meaning in her rationale. She could use a friend, that’s all. This was the wrong time in her life for a real boyfriend.
Great. As if being stuck in the stalker’s vise wasn’t bad enough, she’d managed to work her way into a romantic quagmire. “You know better,” she whispered as she measured out milk and oil. “Mitch knows better.”
Haywood was right about personal lives. Young associates wanting to move up didn’t have time to invest in relationships. Young associates on major cases were little more than ticking time bombs. She was seriously attracted to Mitch, leaving her struggling against herself and the nature of her job not to wreck his life with her complications.
Hearing his footsteps in the hallway, she braced for disaster.
“Morning,” Mitch said, his sleep-roughened voice teasing her senses.
“Good morning.” She gave the mixture in the bowl one last whisk with the fork and then set the bowl aside to fill a mug with coffee for him. It wasn’t easy to meet his gaze when she turned around.
He hadn’t shaved and the golden whiskers highlighted his strong jaw. The snug, long-sleeved thermal shirt emphasized every angle and plane of his chiseled torso. She felt the blush heating her cheeks as the sensual dreams raced to the front of her mind, taunting her. She wanted him, badly, and if the cautious look in his eyes was any indication, she’d made a critical error last night.
Her fingers tingled when they brushed his as he accepted the coffee mug she offered. “I’m making pancakes,” she said after an awkward moment soaking up the delectable view.
“I like pancakes.”
His smile wasn’t quite as warm today. She gave herself a mental kick for ruining a good thing before it really got started. That had to be a new one for the record books. He watched her steadily over the rim of his mug as he sipped the coffee. Unable to withstand the speculative glance, she turned back to the batter and set the griddle to heat.
“Can I help?” he asked.
Oh, she’d like that. She could imagine the feel of him all around her, crowding the galley kitchen with his size and heat, setting her hormones on fire. A ripple of anticipation danced down her spine despite her best efforts to ignore it. This was about becoming friends again or, if not friends, at least two people who could m
uddle through the crisis without hurting each other.
Time and place, she reminded herself, tossing a drop of water on the griddle to test the heat.
“Who does that?” Mitch asked from behind her.
“Does what?”
“Tests the griddle that way.”
What was he talking about? “It’s how you’re supposed to do it.”
“Huh.”
She shot him a look over her shoulder. “How do you do it?”
“Mom taught me to use a spoonful of batter for pancakes.”
Julia shrugged and resumed her task. Everything she’d learned about cooking had come from the internet or cooking shows. Her mother hadn’t been into domestic bliss, unless it was to impress the newest man she needed for one purpose or another. “If you don’t want pancakes...”
“I do,” he said quickly. “I’ll be quiet.”
She could hear the grin in the eager rise of his voice as she carefully poured circles of batter onto the griddle.
When they were seated at the table with a stack of hot pancakes on each of their plates, he seemed to hesitate.
“What did I forget?” It seemed everything they needed had made it to the table.
“Nothing. It smells delicious.” He lifted his gaze from the plate and the blatant heat in his brown eyes startled her.
“Okay, good.” She dropped a pat of butter on the top pancake and watched it melt down over the others. He still stared at her. “Dig in.”
“In a minute.” He reached for the syrup pitcher as she did and curled his fingers around hers. “No one’s ever done this for me before. Thank you.”
That couldn’t be true. She could not be the only woman in the world consumed with the urge to spoil him. “I don’t believe you.” When his eyebrows shot up, she stuffed a bite into her mouth before she blurted out another insult.
