Codename Romeo: Rogues and Rescuers Book One

by Leroux, Lucy

  Moving fast, Ethan grabbed the nearest towel, scooping the woman out of the tub with one hand while simultaneously tossing the towel between them.

  Her eyes flew open as he set her on her feet, her gloriously naked body inadvertently pressed against his chest. She blinked, still dazed, but her focus sharpened as she woke and realized where she was.

  “You fell asleep,” he informed her tersely, his tone sharper than he’d intended.

  Julie hiked the towel up, covering herself up to the neck. It was far too late for that, however. He’d already seen everything, and damn if it wasn’t going to take him a long time to forget it.

  He cleared his throat, setting her gently on the bench.

  The color on her cheeks deepened to a dusky rose. “I’m sorry,” she said, staring bemusedly, her eyes wide and fixed on his face.

  Ethan’s pulse throbbed. He could feel the heat between them like a tangible thing. It thickened the air. He was suddenly tense, actively fighting his own impulse to grab her and carry her to the bedroom.

  He cleared his throat. “I’ll let you get dressed now.” He rushed out of the room as if his pants were on fire.

  * * *

  The following morning, Juliet sat up groggily, shaking her head to clear the fog from her brain. As awareness returned, so did her embarrassment from the night before.

  Heat flooded her cheeks as she recalled the moment when she realized she was in Ethan’s arms with only a cotton towel to shield her nudity. And that wasn’t the worst part. No, that had been her response. For a brief moment, she’d been ready to drop the cloth and press against him. Thank goodness, she’d been too slow and lethargic to do anything about her sudden case of rampant lust.

  She was going to have to be incredibly careful. Ethan was being kind to her and Luna the past few days, but she didn’t know him. They had been railroaded into an enforced intimacy by the blizzard and her illness. It was easy to get confused under the circumstances.

  Ashamed of her moment of weakness, she decided to try to get dressed. Last night before she passed out a second time, Ethan had mentioned the snowplows might come today. Her boss at Tully’s hadn’t called her back. She wasn’t sure if the bar had reopened or not. If it had, she had to make the effort.

  Don’t let the plows come until tomorrow. It would be a small reprieve that might enable her to regroup and regain her strength.

  Ethan’s apartment was warm, much more so than the studio downstairs. Juliet had always kept the thermostat on her apartment low to save on the heating bill, but Ethan’s apartment was extremely comfortable. She slipped on a tank top she’d assumed she wouldn’t be able to wear until spring. Pairing it with a worn pair of yoga pants, she walked out into the living room with slow, uncertain steps.

  Juliet stopped dead in her tracks. Ethan was with Luna in the kitchen, feeding her tiny bites of pancake while humming an old rock tune she recognized but couldn’t name.

  And I thought I was feeling shaky before. Ethan’s back was to her. He was wearing low-slung jeans so worn and form-fitting she could see the outline of his rear end in perfect relief. He was also naked from the waist up.

  Ethan turned around when she took another step, even though she was sure she hadn’t made a sound. He grinned, grabbing the t-shirt slung over the top of one of the dining chairs.

  “Just changing into something I can ruin before I tackle the floors,” he said. Ethan threw the shirt over his head, pulling it over a six-pack of abs so defined she could have scrubbed her clothes clean on them.

  Ruined? He was a work of art. Her mind flashed back to the one time she had seen Alvaro without a shirt. He’d been attending one of her sister Daniella’s many pool parties. She’d been terribly impressed with his flat stomach and slim wiry arms. Compared to Ethan, Alvaro could have been an underweight youth. This was what a man should look like.

  Ethan cocked his head, no doubt studying her stupefied expression. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she answered, her voice distant. He was wearing a shirt now. Why was she still seeing his abs in her head?

  “Do you need to sit?”

  “Uh…” Juliet felt lightheaded, but she wasn’t sure she could blame it on her illness. Nevertheless, she shuffled to the couch, disconcerted when Ethan hurried to help her.

  It would be so much better if he didn’t touch her.

  “Your English is quite good,” Ethan observed, studying her as she tried to affect a casual air. It was difficult with him standing over her. “How long have you been living in the States?”

  “Not long.”

  “Really? I would have guessed years and years. Your grasp of slang and colloquial English is excellent.”

  She cleared her throat, surprised to still find it a bit painful. “Well, I did attend school here for a while,” she admitted before blanching. Regret was immediate. Telling him anything true was a mistake.

  “Where?”

  “A school in Florida,” she improvised. “It was a brief exchange program.”

  His smile could melt the snow. “What was it called?”

  “Um. Mezo-American Art and Archeology,” she said, naming a real course she had taken once upon a time at Harvard.

  “I meant the school.”

  “Oh, uh, it was Florida State.” That was an exceptionally large school, wasn’t it? Was Julie Alvarez a common-enough name? He wouldn’t bother to check, would he?

  I knew I should have called myself Maria.

  “Can I move into the guest room with Luna today?” she asked hopefully.

  He winced. “It may still be too soon. My friend, Donovan—he’s a doctor—said it would be a full week before you were well. It might be best to wait another few days. The good news is Luna isn’t showing any symptoms. I think it’s safe enough for you two to be in the same room as long as you don’t touch her.”

  “Oh.” She couldn’t touch the baby? Her chest felt hollow. It made sense, but she couldn’t help feeling suddenly unmoored. Everything she had done, she’d done for Luna. Juliet cast her eyes down, not wanting him to see her disappointment. His touch startled her. Ethan put a finger under her chin, nudging her a tiny bit so she would meet his eyes.

  “It won’t be for long. I promise.” He straightened. “Luna is half-asleep, so I’m going to try to put her down for another quick nap. Don’t worry about anything this morning except breakfast.”

  Nodding weakly, she watched him swing Luna up in his broad muscled arms. The little girl babbled and yawned. He disappeared down the hallway with her, the tight denim doing magical things to his backside.

  Despite her despondency, she couldn’t help but notice…

  It was a hell of a view.

  Chapter Nine

  Most of the day passed in a blur. Juliet managed to eat breakfast, but she was so tired afterward she had to lie down again. She made it to Ethan’s bedroom on her own, too tired to feel guilty she was still taking his space. The rest of the day was made up of snatches of consciousness, with Ethan poking his head in to update her and ask the occasional question. Did Luna have any allergies? Would she eat blueberries? Was he supposed to try taking her to the toilet or should he stick to the diapers?

  She answered the questions as best she could, repeating what the doctor at the free clinic had told her about Luna’s diet. Two more days passed in a similar fashion. She got stronger, but she was still a far cry from healthy. The snowplows came, but it made little difference because the snow kept falling.

  On the third morning, Ethan knocked, coming into the bedroom as she sat up.

  “Julietta?”

  Her eyes widened as she took in his appearance. He wasn’t dressed for renovation work. Instead, he was wearing grey slacks paired with a dark blue shirt that set off the color of his eyes. But she couldn’t process how handsome he looked. Her attention was fixed on the shiny gold badge hanging around his neck.

  Ethan was a police officer. Tendrils of icy cold shot down her spine, pooling in h
er gut.

  “It’s Julie,” she reminded in an absent whisper, her eyes never leaving the shining shield.

  “Sorry. Morning, Julie,” he apologized, hesitating before coming inside.

  If he’d been looking at her, he would have instantly read her shock and dismay, but he was scanning an open file folder in his hands. “I was going to keep working on your studio today, but I called in unexpectedly—a surprise raid. I’m going to run Luna over to her sitter again. Martha said she didn’t mind keeping her until this evening when I can pick her up again on my way home from work.”

  Juliet didn’t reply. Her tongue seemed fixed, stuck to the roof of her mouth. Eventually, the silence grew awkward.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked, pinning her down with those deep blue eyes.

  “I need to call the sitter myself. I, uh, usually clean her place to get a discount. Also, I should text work again. I’m feeling much better. I need to pick up a shift tonight if I can,” she said hoarsely.

  “Absolutely not.” Ethan scowled. “It’s too soon. Your shift manager is down with the same illness by the way. The big boss—Max something?—he is still thinking about reopening. If he does, though, it will be with a skeleton crew. There’s more snow forecasted tonight, but not as much as the last few. Only the die-hard alcoholics will be at Tully’s if they open.”

  “That’s half of our clientele,” she protested weakly.

  He laughed before glancing at his watch. “Call your boss if you feel you have to, but tell him you need another couple of days.”

  “I need to work, Ethan,” she said. His name felt strange on her lips. For so long, she’d thought of him as her own personal bogeyman—the Landlord with a capital L.

  “And you will. But you need to rest a little longer.” After he walked over to the bedside table, he knelt to open one of the drawers. He pulled out a lockbox with a push-button pad on the top.

  “Excuse me,” he said, setting it on the dresser to open it, taking care to cover it with his bulk so she couldn’t see the combination. When he turned around again, he was slipping a massive grey gun into a shoulder holster she hadn’t even noticed him wearing.

  Juliet staggered to the bed. Blackness swamped her vision as she let herself fall on the plush mattress.

  Ethan knelt in front of her before she could blink. His smile was wry. “I knew it was too soon for you to be out of bed. The doctor said it would be at least a week before you began to recover. You need more time.”

  The gun was inches away from her thigh now. Helpless to stop herself, she let out a strangled whimper. His face soft in sympathy, Ethan leaned toward her, reaching out to put his hand on her forehead.

  Involuntarily, she reared back. His face cleared in understanding. “Is my service piece bothering you?”

  His hand covered the gun, and he shifted before rising to stand. “I apologize, but it’s part of the job.”

  “O-okay.” Blinking, she tried to appear calm, although she was screaming inside. Swallowing, she gestured at the gun and badge. “When you said the storm gave you a chance to catch up on your caseload, I thought you meant regular paperwork like an accountant or lawyer.”

  He was one of the landlords of the building. To her, that had meant he was a businessman, someone in the finance industry. That would have explained how he could afford to pay for his share. But he was wearing a badge… Cops didn’t make much money, did they?

  “A lawyer?” Ethan’s face curdled. “Please, never say that word to me.”

  The expression on her face froze. “You don’t like lawyers?”

  “I like them fine—as long as they stay out of my cases. No, I come from a long line of men who are either in law enforcement or the military. My dad was career army, but I tried it and it wasn’t for me. I have to get to work, but don’t worry about my service piece.”

  He gestured to the weapon at his side. “Unless it’s on me, it stays in that box. That gun safe would be impossible for Luna to open. My gun will be locked up tight whenever you two are here unless I’m coming from or going to work. It’s only going to be for a few days.”

  Juliet took a deep breath, then gave him a bracing smile. “Yes, of course. And thank you for considering my feelings. I will feel a lot better if I know your weapon is locked up,” she said, trying to excuse her reaction as a normal apprehension for guns.

  His grin was dazzling. Thankfully, it was gone before it could do any lasting damage. “Good. I have to run or I’m going to be late. You need to get your strength back so you can take care of Luna. I’ve only had her for a few days, and I can barely keep up. And don’t rush to be up and around. You still have some healing to do.”

  “I know,” she acknowledged, waving.

  Juliet waited until he was gone to burst into tears. It’s okay, it’s okay. You didn’t tell him your real name.

  Ethan never needed to know she was a wanted woman.

  * * *

  “Oh no,” Juliet breathed aloud in consternation, turning her head to examine the studio apartment she called home.

  The floor was in shreds, jagged pieces of linoleum sticking straight up in the air. The effort was only half-done. Most of it needed to be pulled up.

  When Ethan had said he was starting the renovation on her studio yesterday, she thought he meant slapping on a few coats of paint and perhaps refinishing the cabinets. She’d come down the steps, stopping at every landing to rest for a few minutes, to see if there was a way to live down here while he did the work.

  It was impossible now. She had no idea he’d been planning to rip up the entire floor. Despondent, she dragged herself upstairs. What was she going to do? This was her worst nightmare.

  No, it isn’t. There’s a far worse one.

  A wave of panic threatened to knock her to her knees. Breathe. You can get through this, she told herself. But she couldn’t make herself believe the lie.

  Living with a cop, even for a few days, was too much for her. If he found out who she really was—that she had an arrest warrant issued for her in her native country of Mexico—he’d turn her over to the authorities. He wouldn’t have a choice. Cops swore oaths to uphold the law.

  Calm down. Ethan didn’t know anything about her. She’d left all traces of her old identity behind when she escaped across the border. Ethan only knew her as Julie, the poor waitress who’d rented a crappy basement apartment in his new investment.

  Except he knows your real name. Juliet dug her fingernails into the soft part of her palms. That didn’t matter, or it wouldn’t soon. Once she was better, she was going to do as Ethan had asked—she was going to find a new place to live. He’d forget about her as soon as she moved out. She just had to get through the next few days without tipping him off.

  You can do that, she thought. If he got curious about her, she had a backstory ready. Juliet knew it by heart. She should—she’d practiced it often enough.

  And, so far, I’ve hardly used it at all. She snorted aloud as she remembered how hard she worked on her elaborately crafted history. The reality was very few people had asked about her background. All they cared about—sometimes—was the phony green card that had cost her over a thousand dollars. In the circles Juliet now found herself in, people were more concerned with what she could do for them than where she came from.

  Except Ethan was a cop. He was naturally curious. And in her weakened state, she hadn’t been as careful as she normally was. She’d told him part of the truth before she could catch herself—that she’d studied in the states and her real name.

  Just stop there. Don’t volunteer anything else. Ethan didn’t need to know her time here had been for law school or that she came from a moneyed background.

  Why did Ethan have to be so kind? In all her time in Boston, she hadn’t met anyone like him. Most people wouldn’t cross the street to spit on her here. Well, some of the men would do that and more if she let them. But she had no intention of letting anyone get close to her.

  Howe
ver, Ethan was making that difficult. He kept surprising her over and over again. Most men wouldn’t help a sick woman, especially not when they came with a toddler in tow. But this one had opened his home to her. True, he hadn’t seemed thrilled in the beginning. She had a vague recollection of him swearing up a storm every other minute during her fever.

  But as soon as she was out of danger, he’d calmed down and had acted like a gracious host. It wouldn’t have been out of bounds to call him downright enthusiastic, charming even. And he was so sweet to Luna…

  A vision of him playing with the toddler, telling her a nonsense story about a bear named Jason and his best friend, a skunk named Liam, nearly made Juliet tear up. He’d fed the little girl, carried her, and soothed her when she cried. And he never complained. Not even when Luna spilled juice all over the new couch.

  You’re forgetting the most pertinent detail. Ethan was a cop. The thought kept sliding around her fuzzy mind as if she were trying to block it out and forget. But that was the last thing she could do.

  Sighing, she let herself back into the top-floor apartment, examining the front rooms fully for the first time. The clear light of winter lit the room in a pale gold. A green-and-black marble countertop sparkled from the kitchen island in front of a huge two-door refrigerator. Her stomach rumbled. That had to be a sign of recovery. During the first few days of her illness, she couldn’t even think about food.

  Juliet opened the door to reveal well-stocked shelves. If he hadn’t been called into a raid, Ethan would have made her breakfast alongside his. Ravenous, she took a piece of cheese from a drawer, popping it in her mouth. It wasn’t enough, but she wasn’t up to cooking yet.

  How long had it been since she’d been able to do nothing like this? For the better part of this year, she’d been moving at a breakneck pace, scrambling to do whatever she needed to do to keep herself and Luna housed and fed.

  After tea and toast, she took stock of her surroundings. Though it still needed a lot of work, the apartment was going to be beautiful when it was finished. With two large bedrooms and another spare room being used as an office, it was the biggest apartment she’d set foot in since leaving Mexico. The sunken living room opened onto the kitchen with the main bedroom she was using with its big en-suite bathroom. There was even a gas fireplace in the bedroom instead of a television for snowy winter nights. The widescreen TV had a place of honor in the living room.