by Lori Foster
“You love me?”
He gave her shoulders a gentle shake. “What the hell did you think?”
“I don’t know.” Her eyes were round behind her glasses, filled with hope. “You didn’t recognize me. Even after last night, you didn’t recognize me.”
Harris couldn’t believe she was hung up on that. “I looked at those pictures with totally detached lust. It was a naked woman, period. How I looked at them is entirely different from how I looked at you.”
“How’d you look at me?”
He pulled her closer. Took a deep breath. “With lust, for sure. God knows, Clair, you make me hot. But with so many other feelings, too—love, tenderness.” He hesitated and then added, “Need.”
“You need me?”
Harris hauled her into his arms. “I love you so damn much I almost can’t think straight, so of course I need you. You make me laugh, and you make me feel easy, sort of rested. Like I’ve found the perfect place to be. With you.”
She smiled up at him, laughing a little, weeping a little. “I love you too.”
Finally hearing her say it relaxed something inside him, something he hadn’t realized was tense until she fully accepted him. “That’s a relief.” He released her and rubbed his hands together. “Now if we can just figure out where this ex-boyfriend of yours is, I’ll go have a talk with him. Then everything will be perfect.”
Dane again tapped on the door before opening it. Alec was beside him. “Give us his name, Clair. We’ll handle it.”
Clair bit her lip. “I don’t know….”
“He could have negatives still,” Alec pointed out.
“Or more shots,” Dane added.
Harris watched her face flush with anger, saw her hands curl into tight fists. “I’ll go talk to him—”
Harris pulled her around in a bear hug. “Forget that idea. I don’t want you anywhere near the creep.”
Dane’s eyes narrowed. “You shouldn’t go near him either, Harris. You just want to take him apart.”
“Damn right.”
Alec raised a brow. “Hitting him would only get you in trouble. Whereas we can likely prove what an unscrupulous jerk he is.”
“How?” Harris demanded.
“If he did this to Clair,” Dane explained, “then he’s likely done it to other women, too. All we need is the evidence, and hey, gathering evidence is what we do.”
“Then we can have criminal charges filed against him—and neither Clair nor her photos will have to be involved.”
It didn’t feel right to Harris, letting Dane and Alec take care of the matter. Clair was his, and he felt so damn protective. He needed to punch the guy at least once. Hell, he wanted to break his nose. But he definitely didn’t want Clair involved.
“Think of it as a wedding present,” Alec urged him.
At the mention of a wedding, Clair pushed away from Harris with a gasp. He hauled her right back again. “We are getting married, Clair.”
Her brows snapped down and she looked at him over her glasses. “Since when?”
“Since I just told you I love you and you told me you love me too.”
Angel Carter, Dane’s wife, grinned. “Sounds reasonable to me, Clair.”
Celia Sharpe nodded. “Let Alec go get this awful man, and you and Harris just concentrate on wedding plans.”
Clair still looked mutinous. “I expected a proper wedding proposal.”
“Everyone in this room has seen you in the buff, Clair. Hell, Dane and Alec were looking at your photos with a magnifying glass, trying to spot details. They were—”
“I’ll marry you.”
Harris grinned at her burning face and the rushed way she’d interrupted him. But now the wives were scowling at their husbands too, and the husbands looked ready to hang him. Harris laughed. “Sorry. All’s fair in love and war.”
Dane caught his wife’s hand. “Let’s go before Clair starts shedding blood and gets my office all messy.”
Alec threw his arm around Celia. “Wait for us.”
They were gone in moments, leaving Clair and Harris alone. With everything in place, Harris relaxed. “Ethan and Riley are going to be damned pleased, but Buck will have a fit.”
“Buck is one of your friends, right?”
“Yeah, soon to be my only single close friend. He won’t like it that I’ve jumped ship too.”
“So he should get married.”
“He claims he’s married to his lumberyard.”
Clair rolled her eyes. “Some guys just like the bachelor life, I guess.”
“No.” Harris tipped up her chin. “Some guys just haven’t met the right woman yet. Which is why I have to get you tied to me. I may not have recognized you in the photos, but I definitely recognize you as the perfect woman—for me.”
* * *
“CAN WE ESCAPE, NOW, do you think?”
Clair smiled at Harris. Because they’d both wanted a small, simple wedding with only close friends and family, they’d been able to organize it all in just under three weeks.
Harris had been very impatient the entire time. The rehearsal dinner had lasted hours, filled with good food and a lot of laughter. Her family loved Harris, and vice versa. Ethan and Riley were beyond pleased, and Buck wasn’t too disgruntled. In fact, he seemed to be wallowing in the fact that he was the only single one in the bunch.
Dane and Alec were finally able to look at Clair again without turning red, but they were still more hesitant with her. For her part, she doubted she’d ever be able to face them again without blushing.
“I think we can leave now.” Clair scooted closer to him. “You have big plans?”
“Yeah.” Harris nuzzled her neck. “Plans to have my way with my soon-to-be-bride.”
She sighed, now as anxious as he was to be alone. They made an announcement, put up with a few more toasts, and finally headed out the door.
In the parking lot, however, Celia Sharpe and Angel Carter chased them down. Celia carried a large package and Angel had a manila envelope.
“We’ve been elected to do the honors,” Celia explained when they reached them.
“The men are still shy about that whole photograph thing,” Angel added with a shrug. “They say you’re too valuable to the office to replace you, but no way can they discuss this with you.”
Harris put his arm around Clair and smiled. “Discuss what?”
Angel presented the envelope with a flourish. “They located that ex-boyfriend of yours. They found these.”
Clair went blank. “Ohmigod.”
Beside her, Harris stiffened in anger. “Damn it. I should have—”
“Dane did that for you. Punched him right in the nose.” Angel seemed to relish the retelling. “And he did it in such a way that he wasn’t the one who started it. If I know Dane, he goaded the guy into taking a swing first.”
Celia nodded. “Then pow, Dane laid him out.” She laughed. “Alec thought it was great.”
Clair bit her lip. “If they found more photos…”
“Not to worry,” Celia rushed out. “They went over his place with a fine-tooth comb. There wasn’t much that pertained to you. Just a few souvenirs, apparently.”
Clair closed her eyes in mortification, then felt Harris hug her to his side.
“It’s all right now, Clair.”
“It really is,” Angel assured her. “He’d done the same with two other women, one that he was still dating. Dane and Alec clued them in, and they confronted the jerk, even ransacked his place until they found some of the photos themselves. They both agreed to prosecute, so he’ll be taken care of for sure.”
Clair pulled herself together. It was over and she had her whole life ahead of her—a life with Harris. “Please, tell Dane and Alec how much I appreciate it.”
“You also get this,” Celia said with a grin. “It’s a paper shredder. Alec said the photos belonged to you, and you could do whatever you wanted with them. But he said he figured you’d want to shre
d them.”
“He figured right!”
Harris snatched the envelope out of her hand. “We’ll definitely do that.” He leaned toward Angel for a hug, then to Celia for the same. He held the bulky box under one arm, the envelope in his free hand. “Thank you, ladies. Knowing that situation is settled is the very best wedding present.”
Celia and Angel left them with smiles. The moment they were gone, Harris opened the envelope and started to peek inside.
Clair snatched it away and held it behind her back. “Oh no you don’t.”
Trying to look innocent, and failing, Harris said, “I just wanted to see—”
“I know what you wanted to see. But these are getting destroyed the moment we get home. You’ve seen all the nude photos of me that you’re ever going to see.”
Harris grinned, and the grin spread into a laugh. “All right, babe,” he soothed. “Don’t get all bristly on me.” He turned her toward the car.
Clair didn’t understand his new mood and thought to soften her denial. “I’m sorry, Harris. I hope you can understand how I feel.”
“Yeah, I do.” After she was seated, he leaned in the door and kissed her. “I was just teasing you. It doesn’t matter to me at all.”
“You’re sure?”
He took her mouth in a long, satisfying kiss. “Positive. After all, what do I need with photos when I’ve got the real thing?”
* * * * *
New York Times bestselling author Lori Foster returns with an explosive new series featuring sexy bodyguards who’ll do anything to protect the ones they love. Don’t miss the sizzling Body Armor series!
Under Pressure
Hard Justice
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Don’t Tempt Me
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Hard Knocks (e-novella)
No Limits
Holding Strong
Tough Love
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Be sure to also catch the deliciously sensual Love Undercover series available now!
Run the Risk
Bare It All
Getting Rowdy
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Trace of Fever
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Don’t miss
UNDER PRESSURE
the first in Lori Foster’s explosive new series!
For the men of the Body Armor agency,
the only thing more dangerous than the job they do
is the risk of losing their hearts.
Read on
for an exclusive sneak peek…
CHAPTER 1
Leese Phelps stood in the cold early evening air, his breath frosting in front of him, Christmas lights on the nearby bus station blinking in an annoying mismatched pattern. A fourth of the lights were broken, and one strand hung loose, almost touching the ground. Not exactly festive, but then, he wasn’t in a festive mood.
Behind him, completely hidden in the shadows, his friend Justice complained, “My balls are freezing.”
Still watching the surrounding area, Leese said, “You should try wearing underwear.”
“The ladies would protest. They like me commando.”
Leese started to smile—until a shadow shifted from the right side of an alley that bisected the station from a cheap hotel. He said, “Shh.”
“This is it?” Justice whispered. “You see her?”
“Quiet.” Leese pressed farther back into the darkness, his gaze alert, his senses zinging.
A woman, small in stature, emerged dragging an enormous suitcase with a broken wheel. As it tried to pull her sideways, she relentlessly forced it through slush and blackened snow. Her narrowed gaze scanned the area with nervous awareness.
Leese didn’t move, but still her attention shot back in his direction. She stared, watchful and wary, until he stepped out.
Trying not to look threatening, Leese propped a shoulder on the brick I of the vacated building. He glanced at her, then away, as if dismissing her.
She continued to stare.
Now what to do?
“What’s happening?” Justice whispered.
“Nothing. Be quiet.”
The girl wore jeans with snow boots, a puffy coat that covered her to her knees and a black stocking cap pulled down over her ears. Straight brown hair stuck out from the bottom.
When she finally looked away, it was to drop the suitcase and whip around, facing the way she’d come.
Two men stepped out, followed by a third.
The third smiled at her. “Going somewhere, Cat? Without saying goodbye?”
Suspicions confirmed, Leese watched Catalina Nicholson take a defiant stance. That didn’t surprise him. As soon as he was given the assignment, he’d learned what he could of her.
She came from a wealthy family of lawyers and CEOs, people with far-reaching political and business connections. They were the movers and shakers of the world, influencing other powerful people effortlessly.
But Catalina had bucked convention by becoming an elementary school art teacher, something her family hadn’t liked. She clearly enjoyed her luxuries but wanted to earn them herself. Some inheritances helped to pave the way on that, but from all reports, she’d proven herself to be headstrong and independent. Small in size but not in attitude.
Here, in the slums of Danbrook, Ohio, she was far away from her usual routine of dealing with middle-class families and their grade school children.
“That’s right, Wayne,” she said, her voice strong. “I’m leaving.”
“I don’t think so,” the man called Wayne said, and his two cronies moved to surround her. “Not just yet. Not until you pay up on all those promises you made.”
Strangely enough, Catalina looked back at Leese again, her expression a touch desperate.
Even from the distance, he felt her silent request for help.
“Stay put unless you see that I need you,” Leese told Justice. He was pretty sure he could handle things—without drawing his gun—but there was always a chance he’d cause a ruckus and then, to protect her, they’d need to make a run for it. “Be ready with the car.”
Justice grumbled, “I miss all the fun.”
Stepping out, his boots crunching in the frozen snow, Leese headed toward her in a casual stride.
Relief took the starch out of her shoulders. If he could defuse things without violence, that’d be for the best. Right now the bus station was all but empty. But if a brawl broke out, for sure it’d draw attention from somewhere.
As he approached, the men all went still, attentive, before deciding he didn’t matter.
Idiots.
Leese stepped up in front of her, blocking the pushiest guy, forcing him back a step.
“Hey!”
“Excuse me.” Insinuating himself between her and the big goon, Leese insulated her from trouble, then turned to face her. Catalina was probably a foot shorter than him, and even in the thick coat she seemed slim all over. She tipped back her head and stared up at him with big blue eyes that were both wary and defiant.
By silent agreement, she trusted him, when that was the very last thing she should have done. No wonder he’d been sent to her.
Leese hefted her bag—which weighed a ton—and maintaining the casual vibe, said, “This way,” indicating where he’d been standing watch.
Without bothering to look at the other men, she drew a careful breath, braced herself and nodded in agreement.
Insane. The woman had no self-protection mechanism. She didn’t know him from Adam, but was prepared to willy-nilly saunter off with him.
When he was assigned this case, not once had he expected it to be this easy. On the contrary. Everything he’d been told had led him to believe it would be a total pain in the ass to keep her safe.
She took two steps.
The closest goon said, “This is bullshit.”
Pausing, Leese huffed out a breath. “Let it go.”
“The hell I will.”
Hearing the elevated voice, he turned just in time to dodge a thick fist. Still holding her bag, Leese landed a knee to the man’s midsection, then flattened him with an elbow to the chin.
The guy’s eyes rolled back and he collapsed like a rag doll, one leg bent awkwardly beneath him, his jaw slack.
Eyeing the remaining two, Leese popped his neck and waited. “Anyone else?”
Being wiser than they looked, they declined further violence.
As the downed man came around with a groan, Leese backed up with Catalina. “Get your friend out of the slush, before hypothermia sets in.” It was so bitter cold it wouldn’t take long for the elements to affect a body, especially when drenched in wet snow.
While Wayne remained hostile, the other man rushed forward to help his friend back to his feet. Tottering, he made his way to a curb, where he slumped, still unsteady.
There were no more smiles when Wayne said, “She owes me.”
“How much?” Paying off the guy would be easier than debating it on such a bitter night, and more expedient than refusing them with his fists.
Wayne’s eyes narrowed. “Not money.”