In Hot Pursuit

by Joanne Rock

  Nervous energy filled her, making it almost impossible not to fidget.

  “Well?”

  “No. I’m not that woman. I’m actually a sequined fraud clinging to a name I’ve carved out for myself in high society. I’m a middle-class girl trying to make it with the blue bloods and I don’t dare slip up for fear I’ll lose my magazine forum, all my clout, and my ability to rake in big bucks for charities that don’t have any other access to New York’s deepest pockets.”

  The words probably surprised her more than they seemed to shock him. Until she’d blurted it out in a moment of panic, she hadn’t fully realized the scope of the pressure she put on herself.

  Josh opened his mouth to respond, but Lexi wasn’t finished yet.

  “So yes, I’m scared of messing up. I’m scared of complicating things. And I’m scared of freaky people who threaten me to keep my mouth shut in my column.” Lexi pressed on, eager to talk through her new revelation, for her own sake more than his. “But most of all, I’m scared of carrying the public persona of Lexi Mansfield into my private life for fear I’ll be consumed by her. And she is most definitely not me.”

  “Wait a minute.” Josh frowned so deeply the scar on his temple wrinkled. “First of all, I think your public persona is more a real part of you than you think. You are definitely not a fraud, Lexi. But right now, I need you to go back to the part about freaky people who threaten you to keep your mouth shut. What is that all about?”

  “Did I say that?” She’d internalized her fears about the anonymous letters for so many weeks, she’d almost forgotten the rest of the world didn’t know about them.

  “Yes, you said that. Who is threatening you?”

  “It’s really not a big deal—”

  “Who?” His voice lacked the patience, the humor, that had marked their conversations in the past.

  Lexi didn’t mind quite so much, seeing his warrior spirit spring to the fore on her account.

  “I don’t know. I’ve been receiving anonymous letters for the past few weeks, but they are computer generated and pretty vague, so I—”

  “Your best friend is engaged to a cop, as you’ve already been quick to point out to me.” A tick started in his eye, twitching the scar in an even rhythm. “Why the hell didn’t you tell him? Or her, for that matter?”

  Lexi stiffened. “How do you know I didn’t, hot-shot?”

  “Because Duke wouldn’t have left town if he’d known. Or he would have told me about the damn letters when he called this morning and asked me to check on you.”

  “Why would Duke Rawlins ask you to check on me?” Her life seemed to be unraveling before her eyes. First, Josh’s overture to see her again and all the emotional implications a relationship posed. Then he made it sound like the anonymous letters were something really serious. Now she had cops secretly checking up on her.

  “Because your friends are starting to overlap with the case we’re working on, Lexi, and the players involved are a lot more dangerous than your poisoned-pen friend, Simone. Do you think maybe she wrote the letters?”

  “Why would she threaten me anonymously when she’s obviously not afraid to tell me off publicly?” Was it her imagination, or had he moved closer? He loomed near, crowding her in the car’s front seat.

  “Maybe she thought she’d hedge her bets. What exactly do these letters threaten?”

  “Me. My dogs.” She didn’t like to think about the notes. Part of her kept hoping they were the sort of thing anyone with a little celebrity would receive. There were always a few malcontents that didn’t like her columns. Her nervous fingers played with the strap of her purse, flipping it from side to side.

  Josh tugged the strap out of her hands and held her hands still. “You’re showing me all these letters and filing a complaint.”

  “Do you really think that’s necessary?” Her heart sped up a little more the closer he got. At this rate, she’d need medication by the time they got out of the car.

  “I can’t believe they threatened Muffin and you’re just letting them walk all over you.”

  “Well, I—” She was so confused, so…aroused…she wasn’t even thinking straight.

  “And I’m coming up with you to check out your apartment’s security.”

  “My building is very safe, Josh.” She did not need him in her apartment. She’d jump him in ten seconds flat.

  He was already out of the car, however, and coming around to her side to open the door. Lexi’s pulse fluttered, her knees threatened no support if she were to stand now.

  He pried open her door and offered one broad palm for assistance.

  “No, Lexi. I’m safe. Anything less than me is not enough protection.” He tugged her out onto the street, his body brushing hers briefly before he shut the door behind her.

  Had he meant to do that?

  The look he flashed her was innocent enough.

  Still…

  Lexi stared at the earringed man with a scar who was supposed to be so damn safe. He looked more like a bloodthirsty pirate transported from a ship deck to the driver’s seat of an unmarked Ford.

  “But once you’re done securing my apartment, you have to leave.” She wanted to settle that up front.

  He cast her a quick glance, his light gray eyes reminding her he wasn’t bloodthirsty—just hungry for her.

  “Maybe once I’m done securing your apartment, you won’t want me to.”

  9

  “A LITTLE SURE of yourself aren’t you, Winger?”

  The words had plenty of bite to them, but Josh hardly noticed as Lexi wriggled from foot to foot beneath his intent stare. The whole ride back to the city had been an exercise in slow torture, and Lexi’s restless movements didn’t do a damn thing to help him remain in control.

  “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just an optimist.”

  Even she had to recognize that his car had crackled with tangible attraction the whole way from Long Island to Manhattan. Why would she deny herself the kind of off-the-charts pleasure they’d generated last night? After all, Josh would be the one taking all the heat for their relationship. Lexi didn’t have to work with Duke every day.

  Was she really scared of starting something with him? Could she be insecure underneath that balls-to-the-wall attitude she carried around with her as surely as her leopard-print purse?

  Her feet seemed to dance in place on the pavement, but he wasn’t giving her any room to get around him yet. He wondered if her toenails were still painted bright blue under those semi-conservative heels.

  “Trust me, Winger, you don’t look anything like a Pollyanna. I’m thinking you’re just way too cocksure for your own good.”

  He groaned at her choice of words. Judging from her cat-who-ate-the-canary grin, the words were no doubt deliberate. He grew ten times harder just hearing the damn phrase fall from her pouty lips.

  “You’re in trouble now.” He pulled her behind him to cross West Sixty-second Street and head toward her building. He needed privacy with her. Fast.

  “Actually, I’m not even sure I’m going to invite you in.”

  He turned on her so fast she ran into him. Her sweet body plastered itself to his for all of two seconds before she peeled herself off and stepped back.

  His voice rasped with the effort of talking over his rampant case of lust. “You’re definitely inviting me in. I’m on official police business until I’ve got those letters of yours in my hands.”

  Her eyes widened just a fraction.

  “Fine.” The word was breathless. “But that’s all I’m putting in your hands today.”

  He envisioned the way she’d given herself to him so completely last night. More than anything, he wanted to share that with her again. “You’re calling the shots, lady.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “You’re sure?”

  “How about we say that if you want anything else from me, you’re going to have to ask. I’m not presuming a thing once we go upstairs.” He didn’t mention that he would keep the pow
er of persuasion in his back pocket, however.

  “So if I thought a goodbye kiss would be okay…”

  “You’re going to have to initiate it.”

  From the mixture of surprise and anticipation in her eyes, Josh wondered how much experience she’d had taking the initiative.

  “And if I decided to live on the edge and go for a repeat of last night?” She twisted and untwisted the strap of her bag around her finger.

  If the constant wriggle of her restless body didn’t do him in, the leather strap of her purse definitely would.

  “You’re going to have to convince me that’s what you really want.” He needed her to realize she wanted this, too.

  “Oh.” Her eyes went soft and warm. Her bag slipped from her hand and hit the street pavement with a soft thud.

  “Shall we go inside?” Josh recovered her bag and placed it gently in her hand. He tried not to notice the exotic floral scent of her, the slight heat of her body jump-starting the fragrance that had barely teased his nose until now.

  Teasing her was going to be far more torturous for him than it would be for her. But he wanted her to be a part of this, too. He wouldn’t be satisfied with an impersonal erotic interlude in the dark anymore, as ludicrous as that sounded when he wanted her so badly he couldn’t see straight.

  Yet he knew Lexi had so much more to offer, so much more she probably hadn’t even afforded herself. He wanted to take her deeper into realms of pleasure she’d never explored. Maybe she’d realize she was stronger than she gave herself credit for, capable of sustaining a relationship without compromising her career or her goals.

  Not that he was going so far as to say he wanted to be the man for her. Although, now that he thought about it, he sure as hell wouldn’t envision her with any other man.

  Maybe he was the man for her, at least for right now.

  Now all he had to do was prove it.

  LEXI’S LEGS WOBBLED as she moved toward her building. For a woman who’d practically been born in high heels, the condition said a lot about Josh’s effect on her.

  God, she wanted him.

  She wanted to explore his big, burly shoulders with her hands. She wanted to taste the hollow at the base of his throat, to inhale the all-male scent of him. She wanted to hear the thump of his heart beneath her ear, to trace her finger through the whorls of hair she’d felt on his chest.

  Most of all, she just wanted to see him.

  Last night had been over-the-top exciting in the pitch blackness. But today, all she could think about was catching a glimpse of Josh in the light—as nature had made him.

  He held the door for her and flashed a wicked grin.

  His gaze strayed south, flicking over her breasts. They responded immediately, visibly, through her lightweight dress.

  “I hope you’re thinking about me,” he half growled, half whispered in her ear as she charged through the door, head held high despite her carnal thoughts.

  “I never said I wasn’t going to think about you,” she admitted, now that she was thoroughly caught. “I’m just not going to act on it.”

  They stepped onto an empty elevator, and Lexi pressed the button for her floor.

  Josh leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Want to know what I’m thinking about right now?”

  “No.” She shivered anyway, certain Josh’s thoughts were as impure as her own.

  “According to our rules, though, I think I’m technically allowed to talk about what I’d like—I just can’t actually give it to you.” Josh scrubbed his stubbled jaw with one hand and studied her, as if genuinely trying to remember the specifics of their agreement.

  He looked wily as a fox with those sexy gray eyes. Lexi would wager her wardrobe that he knew exactly what he was doing to her with his provocative conversation.

  The elevator cabin seemed smaller, suddenly, and Josh’s presence dominated the intimate space.

  The fabric of her dress clung to her, caressing her sensitized flesh and frustrating her with its wispy touch. She became very aware of her lack of stockings. Her bare thighs pressed together in an effort to assuage the sweet ache his presence inspired.

  “You are a wicked man, Josh Winger,” she managed to say, her voice husky with the effort of holding herself back.

  His gaze held her captive as surely as if he’d touched her.

  “Not half as wicked as I’d like right now.”

  Thank God the elevator doors swished open when they did, or she might have caved to the close quarters and heated atmosphere.

  She needed to insert some distance between them, fast, if she was going to survive this “official police business” visit. Drawing lines only seemed to tempt the man to cross them, so Lexi scavenged her brain for another tact. How did one send a man running?

  Inspiration struck as she turned the key in her front door lock.

  “I can’t help but wonder where those wicked ways came from.” She nudged open the door with her shoulder and was greeted by a chorus of happy barking. “I’ve bared my whole childhood to you, Detective, but you haven’t told me a thing about your past.”

  That stern jaw of his slackened just a little. His eyes widened. He didn’t look stricken exactly…but he definitely looked like a man caught in a surprise attack.

  “Nothing to tell.” He scooped up her fluffy white shih tzu who seemed to have taken a liking to Josh. “What’s this one’s name?”

  “That’s Snowball.” Lexi bent to pet her other dogs in an effort to hide a smile. Poor Josh was in major retreat mode. “But I don’t even know if you grew up in the city, or—”

  “Snowball?” Josh grimaced even as he stroked the dog’s downy head. “How can this dog hold his head up on the streets of New York with a name like Snowball? I bet he’s embarrassed to even go out for a walk.”

  “She is not one bit embarrassed. She happens to love her bows and her color-coordinated collars.” Lexi pointed to her gray terrier. “I gave Harry a ‘guy’ name because he’s a boy. And I almost never put a bow on him unless it’s a special occasion, in which case he seems amenable to a bow-tie collar.”

  “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  Josh set down Snowball, much to her dismay, and gave Harry a sympathetic pat on the back.

  “At least Harry is a good name.”

  “Thanks. What sorts of names do the kids in your family have?” The segue was weak, but it worked. Besides, she wasn’t just trying to torment Josh, she really wanted to know something about this man who seemed determined to invade her life at all levels. “Or do you even have brothers and sisters?”

  “You’re relentless.”

  “I know.” She tossed her leopard-print purse on a curio table, shoved off her shoes, and moved into the kitchen. “But make yourself comfortable while you tell me all about yourself—and if you don’t leave out any of the good parts, I’ll make you the best cup of cappuccino you’ve ever had.”

  “You know, I’m here for those letters, not for chitchat, Lexi.”

  Instead of making himself comfortable, he opted to follow her right into the kitchen, his big body making the room seem much too small.

  He might have been able to scare off a lesser woman with that glower on his face, but Lexi wasn’t fooled for a minute. She was warming up to her role as the interrogating officer.

  If only he didn’t crowd her so much. Heat her flesh with his stare. Light her fire just by standing next to her.

  “Chitchat first, letters later.” She ground the coffee and pulled out the cappuccino maker, determined not to lose ground.

  “I’ve got a family full of stepsisters and stepbrothers in both directions, but no blood siblings.” Josh stalked out of the kitchen and around her living room furniture like a bear in Goldilocks’s house. He finally chose the chair shaped like a giant clam and folded his big body into it.

  “Meaning both your parents remarried?” Now that she had room to breathe again, she searched her cabinets for the cinnamon while the milk heate
d.

  “Mom moved to the suburbs to live the American Dream in upstate, and Pop still lives in an iffy section of Brooklyn. They’re antagonistic as hell toward one another, but basically happy with their lives now that they’re not married.”

  As much as Lexi struggled to have a relationship with her happily married parents, she knew it had to be ten times as difficult to relate to an embittered mother and father. “Do you see them much?”

  “I don’t have anything to say to my dad since he walked out on my mother, so I don’t ever see him. I see my mom, but I’m sort of a reminder of unhappier times for her, so I give her lots of space.” He stretched forward in his chair to try to see what she was doing in the kitchen. “I hope you’ve got something more substantial than just cappuccino over there, because I’m pouring out my heart just like you asked.”

  She flashed his trademark glower right back at him. “Keep talking, Winger, or you’ll never see those letters.”

  “Jeez, woman, you’re scary.”

  “No kidding. I learned that look from the most fearsome guy I know.” She tossed a few cookies on a plate and brought them into the living room to soothe him. “How’d you get the scar?”

  He didn’t answer until he’d eaten two cookies; of course, that took all of ten seconds.

  “A broken beer bottle from a long-ago fight—and that’s as much as you’re getting out of me today.”

  “How old were you when this fight occurred?” Lexi poured their cappuccino and brought him a mug.

  Josh was already on his feet, strolling around her aquatic-themed living room and absently touching whatever was in reach. He surfed two fingers along the rim of the fish tank, rolled his thumb over a portrait of her from her college days at Columbia.

  Lexi could almost feel that caress on her face.

  “Seventeen, I think. But you should have seen the other guy.” He sighed as if the weight of the world were on his big shoulders. “I mean it, Lex. No more questions.”

  “Please tell me you didn’t opt to use broken glass on your opponent.” She sipped her drink, wondering how she’d moved from thinking last night that she shouldn’t let a stranger in her apartment to companionably discussing the sordid past of this rough-and-tumble guy whose life sounded too close to The Sopranos for comfort.