HIS TO KEEP
By Stephanie Julian
His To Keep
Stephanie Julian
Published by Stephanie Julian
Copyright 2012. Stephanie Julian.
Cover by Melyssa Najouks
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Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at [email protected].
All characters in this book are fiction and figments of the author’s imagination.
Chapter One
“Are you telling me you two took down twenty men? All by yourselves? You must be extremely good at what you do.”
Andrea Reed’s voice, sultry and amused, carried perfectly down the first-floor hallway of DeMarco Investigations. Straight into Dominic DeMarco’s office.
As his hands tightened on the grip of his Beretta, he imagined it was the smooth skin of her neck.
“We’re the best, honey.” A thick Southern accent coated the response. “If you’re ever in trouble, we’re the men to get you out of it.”
Biting back a curse at the testosterone-induced stupidity of that statement, Nic reminded himself to consider the source. Even though he couldn’t see the men in Annie’s office, he’d known them for years. Muscle-bound from their crew-cut heads to their shiny black combat boots, the Idiot Twins were about to get a few more holes they didn’t need¾
Shit. Deep breath. Calm down.
They weren’t going to hurt her. They wouldn’t dare. He was overreacting, which was nothing new when it came to this woman.
“That is just so amazing.” Annie’s smooth-as-velvet voice rippled through the air, wrapping around his libido and heating his blood. “And where was this again?”
His knuckles creaked as his grip tightened. God damn it. She was reeling them in like a pro.
“South America, ’bout a year ago.”
Anger settled in a hot ball in his chest. That information wasn’t for public consumption and these two asses knew that.
He couldn’t completely blame them, though. Annie was a menace to any man’s sanity. The second he got her alone, he was going to throttle her.
“You must be extremely good shots.” Annie’s tone reeked with sexual interest that had to be faked. A Main Line heiress, Annie didn’t date guys like TweedleDumb and TweedleDumbass . She had to be milking them for all they were worth. Her next questioned confirmed it.
“So was Dominic with you on this little jaunt?”
No, he wasn’t going to throttle her. He was going to spank her. Put her over his knee and smack that gorgeous ass that teased him day in and day out until she begged¾
He nearly ground his back teeth into dust at the image. Why did it have to be this way with this woman? Why did she tie him in so many damn knots he couldn’t see straight?
Why couldn’t he lust after the divorced shop owner down the street? She knew the score. Annie… Annie was just plain out of his league.
“Nic, man, he was ruthless. Must’ve taken out eight or ten guys by himself. The man’s a machine.”
Okay, now they were really starting to piss him off. He shouldn’t have let this go on as long as it had. But he hadn’t known she was still here.
He’d been waiting in his third-floor apartment, pissed off at her again for … Hell, he didn’t even remember what for.
Whatever it was, she’d lashed into him with the icy precision of her tongue and told him exactly what he could do with his unwanted advice.
Her anger, on top of the phone call he’d gotten today, had forced him to find a hole to crawl into before he said or did something totally stupid.
He’d made a strategic retreat to his apartment on the third floor, figuring it’d be safe to return around seven o’clock, fifteen minutes before the Idiot Twins were set to arrive. Annie usually left the office by six. She never stayed later than six-thirty.
At seven, he’d taken the back stairs to the first floor. He’d heard their voices and cursed himself for not realizing these guys would try something stupid—like show up early. Then he’d cursed her for picking this one night to stay late.
Now she was caught with the type of man she despised—because they were exactly like him.
His first instinct had been to haul ass in there and smack some redneck heads together. Annie didn’t deserve their shit.
Instead, he’d waited. She wasn’t in any physical danger. And if he barged in, she’d be pissed off at him again for thinking she couldn’t take care of herself.
He just couldn’t win. Not with her. And he never would.
“So, what can I do for you gentlemen tonight?” she asked.
Fury lit as Bert told her exactly what he wanted her to do.
God damn it.
Annie laughed but he heard tension creeping into her tone. “Well, that certainly was blunt. And I’m so flattered you think of me that way, but I really don’t think that particular activity is in my plans for tonight. Or even anatomically possible.”
Grabbing hold of his fast-fading control, Nic took a deep breath before easing through his office door, sticking his gun in the waistband of his jeans where it would be visible and easily accessible.
He walked down the hall to Annie’s office, stopping outside where he was still undetected. Reaching for as much patience as he could muster, he put on his game face then walked into the doorway.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, guys. My office is back here. Why don’t you two come on through?”
The men turned, hands on their weapon, ready to draw.
Nic stared them down, waiting until they straightened and took their hands away from their guns.
Both guys broke out in baby-faced grins that made Nic wanted to roll his eyes and shake his head.
But his gaze got tangled with Annie’s. And for a split-second, she looked happy to see him, making every ounce of testosterone in his body flare like hot lava. Right before her emerald eyes went hard with anger.
Well, that was better than terrified.
“Dominic. There you are.” Her tone was light but her tight smile oozed disdain. She’d perfected that look in the past six weeks she’d been here. “These men were just telling me about one of their adventures. I understand you were part of their little escapade.”
Nic’s head tilted back as he forced down a smile. Oh, Annie wasn’t just pissed. She was beyond that. She wanted to throw something at him. Something heavy that would hurt.
All because he’d inadvertently stuck her with these two guys.
But, damn it, she was supposed to be gone.
Bill, the goon nearest Annie, drew himself up to his full six-foot-six height. He towered over her not inconsiderable five-eleven in those stiletto heels that made her legs look amazing.
“Hey, Nic, you up for some fun tonight? Maybe you could convince your pretty little secretary to come with us, yeah?”
Nic’s gaze never left Annie. Pretty didn’t cut it. Beautiful fit better. Her white-blond hair, normally constrained in a tight twist on the back of her head, hung around her shoulders in loose waves tonight. It framed a face that, when taken in pieces, was just a little off: her mouth too wide, her eyes too large, nose too straight.
But when you put them all together, they equaled knockout. Annie was an honest-to-God descendent of British royalty whose family had settled in America about the same time as Ben Franklin. Add to tha
t the fact that she was nearly ten years younger than he was and Nic shouldn’t even be thinking of Annie Reed as anything other than unattainable.
Nic leaned against the doorjamb, ignoring commonsense and letting his gaze take her in. “Looks like she’s got other plans.”
She’d changed sometime in the past two hours, and he was having a hard time keeping his tongue in his mouth.
Normally, she wore suits to work—suits with too-short skirts and little lacey things under the jackets. God forbid she ever wear a real shirt.
Now, she wore a dancer’s black bodysuit, cut low over her small breasts and molded to every curve from shoulders to knees, and a filmy, pale-pink skirt that didn’t hide an inch of her mile-long legs. And the pink, half sweater she’d tied under her breasts emphasized instead of covering.
Was she still taking the ballet lessons that had been her passion in high school? He’d seen her dance once. At a recital with his sister, Janey. She’d been eighteen and he swore he’d had a hard-on until he’d been shipped out to Afghanistan a few weeks later.
“She looks pretty hot to me.” Bert leered, trying to straighten his height-restricted body to at least five-seven. And failing by an inch. “You’re up for a good time, aren’t you, honey?”
With her gaze still holding his, Annie blinked once, and Nic swore he felt her shiver, even though he stood two yards away.
She was scared but you had to know her to see the signs. To the other men, she appeared cool as ice—a thoroughbred who should be attending some charity function instead of working in a private investigators’ office in center-city Philadelphia. Instead, here she stood, nose stuck in the air, staring him down even though she was frightened. And pissed off.
Pissed off he could handle. Damn but he admired her backbone.
Her smile nearly cracked her lips with the strain. “Thank you for such a kind offer but I really have to be going.”
“Yeah, you need to be in early tomorrow.” Nic couldn’t help himself. “Can’t be late again like today, sweetheart.”
His taunt had exactly the effect he’d intended. Her eyes widened as her fear evaporated in the face of his challenge.
“Actually, I’m meeting someone in about…” She lifted a graceful arm to peer at the diamond-studded watch on her wrist, “twenty minutes. I wouldn’t want to keep him waiting.”
He frowned. Janey had told him Annie was dating some attorney who worked in an old family firm in Society Hill. Someone more suited to her.
Not your problem, buddy. Keep your mouth shut.
Yeah, right. “Especially not little rich boys with lots of money, hmm?”
Her lips curled just the slightest bit at the corners. “Especially those. They don’t get as cranky as old men when they don’t get their way.”
Nic didn’t know whether to laugh or strangle her.
Before he could do either, Bill took his life in his hands.
“Oh, honey, I think you know ole Dominic here pretty damn well. Seems he hasn’t changed much since the last time we saw him.”
He knew he should take offence to that but Annie had started walking toward him. And he couldn’t see or hear anything but her.
His breath froze in his lungs, his body tensed at just the thought that she was coming closer.
She was so fucking dangerous to his health but, Jesus, she was stunning. Had been ever since she’d turned eighteen and grown into that long, lean body.
He hadn’t allowed himself to touch her then.
Now, she’d rip out his eyes if he tried.
“I’ll just say goodnight then.”
Stopping mere inches away, she barely had to tilt her head back to look him in the eyes. With those heels, she was only a couple of inches shorter than he was. She never dropped his gaze and he didn’t have a clue what she was up to when she leaned forward.
“Sleep on this, Dominic.”
Before he could move, she stretched up on her toes and whispered her lips across his.
It was the lightest touch, lasting only a second, but he swore his lips burned from the heat of hers. And his blood bubbled.
Then she walked away, leaving him with a hissing roar in his ears.
Holy hell. She’d kissed him.
Annie hadn’t voluntarily touched him in at least seven years. Definitely not since she’d grown into the poised woman who ran this office so efficiently, almost better than his sister had.
A long, low whistle from Bert drew him back to reality and he clenched his hands at his sides, willing away the sense of disorientation. Damn it. It should take a hell of a lot more than a kiss from a woman to make his head spin.
Vaguely, Nic heard the front door close with more force than normal.
She’d kissed him.
And the desire he’d kept in check for years began to bubble through his blood, hot as lava.
He wasn’t going to spank her. He didn’t trust himself to touch her because if he started, he didn’t think he could let her go.
No, he was going to scare the hell out of her so she wouldn’t come near him again.
But first…
He narrowed his gaze on the men in front of him. Bert and Bill got quiet so fast, it would have been comical if he’d been in a laughing mood.
“Now,” he said. “We have business.”
*
“That man is a menace to society. He makes me furious.”
Annie quelled the impulse to stomp her foot in frustration, settling instead for tossing her hair over her shoulders as she held out her arms to her partner. “He just pushes and pushes and pushes until I break. He’s a Neanderthal.”
“Is this going to make sense soon? Or are you going to rant all night?”
Colin Travers smirked at her, laughter in his blue eyes as he swept her into a rumba. Perfectly matched for size, they danced together as if they’d been made for each other but Annie couldn’t concentrate on the music throbbing through the open space. She couldn’t find her rhythm because her head still reeled from that kiss.
Well, you couldn’t really call it a kiss. More like an almost-kiss. She hadn’t even meant to touch him. She’d only meant to tease him, show him what he was missing and what he’d never have.
Well, that backfired.
Why the hell had she done it? For the past seven years, she hadn’t laid so much as a finger on him.
Tonight … God, tonight she might have done something irrevocable.
Not that Nic cared, of course. He hadn’t felt a thing, she was sure.
“I am not ranting.” She sniffed. “Well, maybe a little. Ooh, he made me so angry.”
And that was dangerous. Anger meant he was getting to her and that was not an option. Never again.
Colin changed direction and did a spot turn into a samba. “Are you going to tell me why you’re so angry?”
No way would she say anything about that kiss. “He met some friends at the office tonight.” She sniffed as they did a forward progressive walk. “Some very distasteful friends.”
Colin’s left brow rose as they continued around the empty floor. The Broad Street dance studio was deserted by nine on Wednesday nights, so they could practice in solitude.
“You mean women.”
Her teeth set with a click. “That wouldn’t have bothered me.” Liar. She spun on her toe and lay back. “No, these were two men who should be relegated to a prison somewhere in the future. They reminded me of guys from that movie you made me watch. You know, the one with Kurt Russell.”
“Escape From New York.”
“Yes.” She shook her hair back as he lifted her out of the dip. “They gave me the most incredible creeps.”
They’d stared at her like she’d been a meal spread out for their benefit and they were going to enjoy every last crumb.
But they hadn’t scared her. Not with Nic there. She knew Nic would never let anything happen to her.
And Nic didn’t scare her either. She refused to consider what she did feel for him
—
Colin gave her the signal for a dip and she quickly positioned her feet before she fell.
“Jeez, Colin, are you trying to drop me on my ass tonight?”
Colin brought her upright and released her, giving her the look she knew so well. “You’re making it pretty easy tonight, doll.”
She bit back a response because, damn it, he was right. She was the one with the problem. One wrong move and she could injure them both and they couldn’t afford that, not so close to the competition. “Sorry.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, my mind’s not on this tonight. I’m just so furious with him.”
“I think I got that the first time.” Colin grinned, taking her in his arms again and leading her effortlessly across the floor in a series of intricate footwork. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worked up over a guy.” He slowed to a waltz and stared at her until she looked away. “As a matter of fact, I’ve never seen you expend this much energy on anyone. What does this guy look like, anyway? You’ve never told me.”
Like a Roman God.
She bit back the words before they escaped, but Nic was one of the most handsome men she’d ever met.
Broad, handsome features and intense navy-blue eyes that burned when he was angry, as he’d been tonight. The faint scars on his forehead and cheek only added to his appeal. Raven-black hair curled as it reached his shoulders. She wondered if it was as soft as she remembered. The mustache and beard framing his lush mouth had rasped against her skin, seductively rough.
For seven years, she’d gone out of her way to avoid him. Tonight, she’d walked up to him and brushed her lips against his.
She hadn’t meant to stay so late, but when she’d taken over as office manager of DeMarco Investigations, she’d committed to doing the best job she could. She wouldn’t let the DeMarcos down.
“Earth to Annie.” Colin’s voice intruded on her thoughts. “Come in, space cadet. You zoned out on me there for a few minutes.”
She realized they’d stopped, and her mouth twisted. “Sorry. I was thinking.”
“About Nic?”
“Yeah.”
Colin released her from the dancer’s hold to run a hand through expertly trimmed blond bangs that made him much too handsome for his job as a city assistant district attorney.
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