Felony Romance Series: Complete Box Set (Books 1-5)

by Jeana E. Mann

  Although her hands were busy with work, her mind kept traveling back to Elijah while thoughts of Trent disappeared. Trent had never made her feel anything more than comfortable. But Elijah? He seemed like a dream, equal parts nightmare and fantasy, a complicated and fascinating man.

  The floor secretary met her in the hall after lunch, putting an abrupt end to her musings. “You’ve got a delivery,” she said, breathless and flushed with excitement.

  “Okay. I’ll be there in a sec,” Lauren said.

  “No, now. You’ve got to see this.”

  The woman tugged Lauren down the hall. An ostentatious arrangement of lilacs spilled from a crystal vase and over the counter of the nurses’ station. The fragrance of the heavy blooms hung in the air. She pulled one to her nose and took a deep breath of the sweet scent.

  “There’s a card,” the secretary said, “and this came with it.” She handed Lauren a box wrapped in silver-and-purple foil, draped with swirls of ribbons and bows.

  Lauren frowned and opened the small envelope, turning her back to the nosy secretary. Her breath caught as she read the message. The lilacs are to match your eyes, and the music is to open them. Thanks for everything, Elijah. She ripped open the package to find an iPod. The secretary leaned in to steal a peek. Lauren snapped the box shut and raised an eyebrow.

  “Whoever he is, he must really like you,” the secretary said.

  Lauren didn’t respond, just tucked the gift and card into her locker and went back to business with a secret smile on her lips. She tried not to read anything into the impromptu gift. He probably gave a similar package to every woman he came across. It was still a sweet gesture. Knowing he’d been thinking of her made her step lighter and her smile brighter. It wasn’t every day she received attention from a rock god.

  On most days Lauren found her job rewarding, her heart filled to bursting with contentment. Nothing was more exhilarating than hearing the cries of a newborn child and seeing the joyous faces of the parents. The wonderful experiences far outweighed the negative. And then there were days like this one. A young couple had lost their baby while she’d stood by, helpless and devastated.

  “Are you going to be okay?”

  The question accompanied the touch of a comforting hand on her shoulder as she changed out of her scrubs and into jeans and a T-shirt for the trip home. The voice belonged to Pilar, her supervisor.

  “I’ll be fine,” Lauren said in a voice more confident than she felt. “I just need a minute.” She blew out a heavy breath and tied the laces of her sneakers with shaking hands.

  Pilar sank onto the bench beside her and passed a hand over her features. “Me too,” she said. “I’ve been doing this for a while now, and it never gets any easier.”

  “If you’re trying to motivate me, you’re not doing a very good job of it,” Lauren said. Despite the somber events of the evening, Pilar cracked a smile. She was a beautiful woman with long dark hair and luminous eyes. “You’re supposed to say something about how everything happens for a reason and sometimes life isn’t fair, that we did the best we could under the circumstances, or that it just wasn’t meant to be.”

  “Well, I was going to say all those things, and a few others. You did a fine job in there, Lauren. You did everything you could. I’m really proud of you.”

  “Thanks.” Lauren ducked her head to prevent Pilar from seeing the sparkle of tears in her eyes. She prided herself on being professional, and pros didn’t cry after a bad day. “How’s the mom doing?”

  “She’s holding it together. It’s the dad who’s falling apart.” Pilar heaved a sigh, her shoulders moving with the effort. They fell silent for a long moment. Neither of them moved until one of the night nurses entered the room.

  “How do you handle it?” Lauren swallowed the thickness in her throat.

  “Honestly? I’m going to go home, eat a pint of Ben & Jerry’s, and have a good cry,” Pilar said. “And then I’m going to hug my babies and have my man take me to bed.” She stood and waved a hand through the air to emphasize her point. “That’s why you need to get yourself a good man. They come in handy on nights like these.”

  For the first time in a long time, Lauren thought Pilar might be right. The idea of facing an empty house after such a traumatic day left her feeling cold and alone. They walked together to the elevator. No one spoke until they reached the ground floor.

  “Did I ever tell you that my husband is a cop?” Pilar asked, tightening the belt of her jacket around her slender waist.

  “No. I don’t think so,” Lauren said. Pilar never spoke about her personal life except in the vaguest of terms, and Lauren had to wonder why she’d chosen this moment to confide in her.

  “He is. He’s a detective. I used to worry every time he left the house, wondering if this would be the day I got the phone call saying he’d been shot, or worse.” Pilar held the door open to the parking garage to let Lauren pass.

  “That must really be stressful,” Lauren replied while she searched her purse for the keys to her Jeep.

  “It got to the point where I could barely function, and I finally had to let it go. I mean, I still worry, but Mitch said the wisest thing to me. He said that every minute of life is a gamble and that every breath you draw might be your last. There aren’t any guarantees. You have to live life to the fullest and pray you have a lot of breaths.”

  Lauren sat in the parking garage long after Pilar left, thinking over her advice. The past years of her life had been dedicated to school then her career. She’d been so consumed with hiding from the public eye that she’d forgotten to live. The most exciting thing she’d done since graduate was to meet Elijah for a blind date. Watching young parents grieve for a life that never started made her want to do something reckless and exhilarating. Something to prove she was still alive.

  A bright moon illuminated the night sky and cast blue shadows over Lauren’s street when she arrived home. She didn’t bother with the garage and parked her Jeep in the driveway. The silence of the night soothed her. The suburban neighborhood was far enough from the city that the night songs of crickets and frogs filled the quiet spaces. A raccoon or possum found its way to her backyard now and then.

  She loved the small house with its spacious front porch. There was room for a swing on the far end, overflowing with pillows and cushions, the perfect spot to read a novel on a sunny day. A variety of pots and containers overflowed with late-blooming flowers. Curling tendrils of roses and clematis covered the railing and posts, their scents heady and sweet. The wood steps creaked as she climbed them, door key in hand, head bent in preoccupation with the day’s events. Once inside, she would take a long hot bath, drink a glass or three of wine, and try to erase the memory of sad faces and mournful tears.

  “Hey.” The deep, masculine voice snaked out from the darkness of the porch swing beside her.

  She screamed, dropped everything, and assumed a defensive stance. She’d taken a few self-defense classes through the hospital and knew a little bit about warding away an attacker. With fists upraised, she tucked her chin, braced her feet, and prepared to kick ass.

  “Shit, Lauren. It’s me.”

  It took a few seconds for her to place the voice. The clouds overhead shifted, and an errant moonbeam illuminated the shadowy figure sitting on the swing. He removed the baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, and the chiseled features of Elijah came into view. Her heart leaped again, this time with excitement. After two days, she’d never expected to see him again, let alone on her doorstep in the middle of the night.

  “Cheese and rice,” she muttered and tried to relax. Her fingernails had cut half-moon circles into her palms. “You scared the crap out of me, Elijah. You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

  “I’m not sneaking. I’m sitting.” The liquid voice dripped with amusement. “And if I wanted to scare you, I wouldn’t have been out in the open.”

  “Either way, you shouldn’t be here.” To hide her embarrassment, sh
e turned to put the key in the lock and shoved the door open. “You know what time it is, right?”

  “There you go again. All obsessed with time,” he said. He crowded behind her, filling the space of her foyer with his broad shoulders. He shut the door and waited for her to set her things on the entry table. “Where’ve you been anyway?”

  “Work,” she said. He waited for her continue, but she remained silent, afraid she’d burst into tears. She didn’t want him to think she was an emotional wreck, so she forced a smile. “Where’ve you been?”

  He sighed and rubbed a hand alongside his nose. “Catching up with some old friends.” They stared at each for a beat then turned their gazes in opposing directions.

  “That must have been nice.” Lauren cleared her throat and headed for the kitchen.

  “I’ve had root canals less painful,” he said.

  “Sounds like my day.” She pulled a bottle of wine from the refrigerator, popped the cork, and took a swig straight from the bottle. “I just need to chill out for a minute. Do you want to join me?” The dulcet, fruity taste of the wine rolled across her taste buds but did nothing to sweeten her mood. He shook his head.

  She stared at him and suddenly all the events of the past twenty-four hours hit her at once. The Millers and their beautiful stillborn baby girl. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. She set the wine on the counter, cupped her face in her hands, and sobbed. Under normal circumstances, she would’ve been embarrassed to cry in front of someone, but mental and physical exhaustion stripped away her control.

  “I don’t know how to deal with this,” she said through her fingers.

  Hard, strong arms wrapped around her shoulders. Elijah tucked her head into the nook of his neck, one hand on the back of her head. His shirt smelled like fabric softener and expensive cologne. She fisted her hands in the cotton and let the tears roll. His fingers stroked up and down her back while he murmured nonsense. The words vibrated through his chest and into hers, comforting and reassuring. Warm lips brushed the shell of her ear.

  “Hush, pretty girl,” he whispered.

  As the tears eased, she became slowly aware of him as more than a source of solace. The length of her body pressed against him. She felt the curve of his pectoral muscles, the rise and fall of his chest against her breasts, the stretch of his thighs next to hers. The buckle of his belt bit into her stomach. That little bit of pain spiraled her back to reality. She pushed away from him and swiped at the tears with the back of her hand.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “Yes, better.” Now that desolation had passed, embarrassment leaped in to take its place. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t normally cry on strangers.”

  “No problem,” he said. Somber blue eyes regarded her. “Sometimes a good cry can make a world of difference. And we’re not really strangers anymore, are we?”

  He said the words like he knew from experience. She couldn’t imagine him ever shedding a tear over anything. He was too solid, too male.

  “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked. “I’ve never been much of a listener, but I’m willing to give it a go.” He paused, and his next words sent a thrill of anticipation through her. “For you.”

  CHAPTER 12

  LAUREN REACHED for the wine bottle then groaned. “I’m sorry. I forgot,” she said and cast a longing glance at the merlot before pushing it aside.

  “It’s okay,” he said. At this point, he’d need a case of wine to quiet the demons in his head. “I’m not an alcoholic exactly. I mean, I like to drink, but it’s the other things…” His voice trailed off, unsure exactly how to explain his weakness or the need behind it.

  Something in Lauren’s huge, round eyes broke through his wall of indifference and made him curious. He could identify with her unhappiness. She bit her lower lip and studied his face. His gaze met hers, and he tumbled headlong into the depths of her violet irises.

  “I swear, whatever you tell me goes into the vault,” he told her and turned an imaginary key at his lips.

  A lacy fringe of thick black lashes blinked at him. He stared, mesmerized. Even the redness from her crying jag did nothing to lessen their beauty. To keep her from seeing his fascination he swallowed and moved to the opposite side of the breakfast bar.

  “I’m not sure I can talk about it,” she said. Her voice broke on the last words. She blinked again, tears quivering like diamonds in the corners of her eyes. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe I need to tell someone.”

  “Then I’m your guy.”

  Lauren took the bottle of wine and grabbed a glass from the cabinet. He followed her to the small porch at the back of the house. Another porch swing hung from the ceiling, this one the size of a twin bed, covered with pillows and cushions. She settled at one end, tucking a foot beneath her. It reminded him of his grandmother’s home and endless summer days spent on the porch. He sat beside her. She stared across the tiny backyard for a long time before she spoke.

  “I don’t usually get emotionally involved with the patients,” she began. “But we had a young couple come in tonight for delivery. It’s been a difficult pregnancy for them. They’ve been so sweet and so hopeful, always positive. She’s been on and off bed rest for the last few months. Everything was going fine until…” Her voice grew thick with emotion. The tears arrived again with renewed intensity. “There wasn’t anything I could do.”

  The tragedy of her day put his life into perspective. His problems seemed minor compared to hers. He pulled her back into his embrace, aching for her and feeling guilty for underestimating her distress. She felt small and fragile, like her body might shatter into a million tiny pieces if he held her too tightly. Holding her like that, he could’ve been anyone. Just a normal guy with a normal girl feeling the heartbreak of life and death.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said and pushed away from him. Her tears had made hot, dark circles on the fabric of his shirt. “I’m not usually such a basket case. It’s really not like me at all.”

  “It’s alright. Don’t apologize. I’m no one to judge. Shit, you saw me freak out in an alley.” A tendril of hair had broken loose from her ponytail. He tucked it behind her ear with a forefinger. “Everyone breaks now and then. It could be worse.”

  “How’s that?” She tipped her face to look in his eyes, trusting and vulnerable but with a steely determination underneath.

  A tear quivered on the point of her chin. He swiped it away with the pad of his thumb. He’d never felt needed before, not for anything more than his money or his fame. For a few brief seconds, he forgot who he was and who he wasn’t. It didn’t seem important anymore. The only thing that mattered was easing the pain inside this sweet, fragile girl.

  “At least you don’t have millions of people watching and judging you for it.”

  “Yeah, true.” Her lips quivered with the faintest of smiles, and his breath caught. The humor flickered and extinguished. “But then, I don’t give a crap what people think of me. I learned that lesson a long time ago.”

  Her face was inches from his. The heat of her breath puffed against his jaw. In the moonlight, her skin glowed. His fingers twitched with the urge to stroke her cheek, to feel the velvety softness of it, to reassure himself this moment was real and not some figment of his imagination.

  Before he could act, she sighed and sat back in the swing, putting distance between them. “What about you? Why are you here? You’re the last person I expected to find sitting on my doorstep in the middle of the night.” She rocked the swing gently with one bare toe on the wood floor of the porch. It creaked and groaned, the motion comforting.

  “Well, after your story, my shit seems a little anticlimactic,” he said and was rewarded by a full-blown smile this time. That one small expression brightened his world.

  Even though she’d moved away, their thighs brushed from hip to knee on the swing. The innocent contact inspired sinful thoughts. His fingers flexed with the temptation to touch her, but he resisted. S
he was too good, too unspoiled, for him. He’d only dirty her with his touch.

  “Don’t tell me. You only made a million dollars yesterday,” she teased. “Or did you get passed over for Sexiest Man on the Planet this year?”

  Lauren could tell by the gravity in Elijah’s eyes that it was something much more serious. He gave her an enigmatic sideways glance, but one corner of his gorgeous lips twitched up in what might or might not be humor. He was hard to read. Years of media training had polished his surface smooth, but every now and then a glimmer of his true self peeked through the veneer and sucked her in like a vortex.

  “Honestly, I came here because I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” he said. He scrubbed a hand through his hair. A lock of it fell forward over his left eye, giving him a rakish appearance. “And I really, really wanted to go out and get fucked up beyond oblivion.” He blew out a harsh breath. “I suppose this is one of those times when I should have a sponsor.”

  The self-loathing and dejection in his voice struck a note within her. How sad that everyone in the world knew this man’s name and yet he had no one to turn to.

  “I’m a good listener, too.” She put a hand on his thigh and felt the heat of his body through the denim. He placed his hand over hers and squeezed it.

  “I’ve managed to fuck over every single person who ever mattered to me and many more who didn’t. I didn’t get to the top by playing nice.” He shoved his hand through his hair and looked off into the distance. “It used to be a game for me. Playing with people. I made a hobby of it.”

  “It’s okay.” She patted his thigh, trying to reassure him when she knew there were no assurances about anything, about tomorrow, about this night.

  “I think I have a daughter,” he said. “I’m not sure yet.” Raw emotion cracked his voice. “I found out about her today. The mom wouldn’t admit it, but I’m pretty sure she’s mine. We weren’t really together. It was a drunken, druggie kind of thing, you know?” He raised an eyebrow at her. She nodded, even though she didn’t understand. She’d never touched an illegal substance in her life besides a little pot in high school.