by Lori Foster
“Good. I want to know of anyone who’s selling guns.”
He closed his eyes, his mouth twisting in an ironic smirk. “Guns? Just like that, you want to know who’s dealing in guns? God, lady, you look like you could go to the nearest reputable dealer and buy any damn thing you wanted.” He took a step closer, reaching out his hand to flip a piece of her hair. “I don’t know who you thought you’d fool, but you walk like money, talk like money...hell, you even smell like money. What is it? The thrill of going slumming that has you traipsing around here dressed in that getup?”
Emily sucked in her breath at his vulgar question and felt her temper rise. “You have fifty dollars of my money. The least you can do is behave in a civilized, polite manner.”
“Wrong.” He stepped even closer, the dark, sweat-damp hair on his chest nearly brushing against the tip of her nose. He had to bend low to look her in the eyes, but he managed. “The least I can do is steer your fancy little tail back where you belong. Go home, little girl. Get your thrills somewhere else, somewhere where it’s safe.”
Suffused with heat at both his nearness and his derisive attitude, it was all Emily could do to keep from cowering. She clicked her teeth together, then swallowed hard. “You don’t want to help me. Fine. I’m certain I’ll find someone else who will. After all, I’m willing to pay a thousand dollars.” Then, turning to make a grand exit, certain she’d made him sorry over losing out on so much money, she said over her shoulder, “I imagine I’ll find someone much more agreeable than you within the hour. Goodbye.”
There was a split second of stunned silence, then an explosive curse, and Emily decided good breeding could take second place to caution. She reached for the door and almost had it open, when his large hand landed on the wood with a loud crack, slamming it shut again. His warm, hard chest pressed to her back, pinning her to the door. She could barely move; she could barely breathe.
Then his lips touched her ear, whisper-soft, and he said, “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart.”
Chapter Two
SHE FELT LIGHT-HEADED, but she summoned a cool smile. He was deliberately trying to frighten her—she didn’t know how she knew that, but she was certain of it. Slowly turning in what little space he allowed her, Emily faced him, her chin held high. “Would you mind giving me a little breathing room, please?”
“I might.”
Might mind, or might move? Emily shook her head. “You have a rather nasty habit of looming over me, Mr....?”
For a moment, he remained still and silent, then thankfully, he took two steps back. He looked at her as if she might not be entirely sane. Emily stuck out her hand. “I’m Emily Cooper.”
His gaze dropped to her hand, then with a resigned look of disgust, he enfolded her small hand in his much larger one, pumping it twice before abruptly releasing her. He stared at the ceiling. “Judd Sanders.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. San—”
“Judd will do.” He shook his head, and his gaze came back to her face. “Look, lady, you can’t just come to this part of town and start waving money around. You’ll get yourself dragged into a dark alley and mugged, possibly raped. Or worse.”
Emily wondered what exactly could be worse than being mugged and raped in a dark alley, but she didn’t bother asking him. She felt certain he’d come up with some dire consequence to frighten her.
He was watching her closely, and she tried to decide if it was actual concern she saw on his face. She liked to think so. Things still didn’t fit. He didn’t seem any more suited to this part of town than she did, regardless of his crude manners and bossy disposition.
But now that he’d backed up and given her some room, she was able to think again. “I made certain to stay in front of the stores and in plain sight at all times. If mischief had started, someone surely would have offered assistance.” Her eyebrows lifted and she smiled. “You did.”
He muttered under his breath, and pointed an accusing finger at her. “You’re a menace.”
Glaring at him wouldn’t get her anywhere, she decided. She needed help, that much was obvious. And who better to help her than a man who evidently knew his way around this part of town, and was well acquainted with its inhabitants. She cleared her throat. “I realize I don’t entirely understand how things should be done. Although I’m familiar with the neighborhood, since I work in the soup kitchen twice a week...” She hesitated, then added, “I bought this coat from one of the ladies who comes in regularly. On her, it looked authentic enough. That was even her bag I carried—”
“Miss Cooper.”
He said her name in a long, drawn-out sigh. Emily cleared her throat again, then laced her fingers together. “Anyway, while I know the area, at least during the day, I’m not at all acquainted with the workings of the criminal mind. That’s why, as I said, I’d like to hire you.”
“Because you think I do understand the criminal mind?”
“I meant no insult.” She felt a little uncertain with him glaring at her like that. “I did get the impression you could handle yourself in almost any situation. Look at how well you took care of those drunkards? You didn’t even get bruised, and there were three of them.”
“Yeah. But you’d already laid one of them low.”
She could feel the blush starting at her hairline and traveling down to cover her entire face. “Yes, well...”
He seemed to give up. One minute he was rigid, his posture so imposing she had to use all her willpower not to cower. Then suddenly, he was idly rubbing his forehead. “Let’s get out of here and you can tell me exactly what you want.”
Oh, no. She wouldn’t tell him that, because what she wanted from him and what was proper were two very different things. But she forgave herself the mental transgression. No woman could possibly be in the same room with this man without having a few fantasies wing through her mind.
Trying for some vagrant humor to lighten his sour mood, she asked, “Wouldn’t you like to change first?”
Staring at her, his jaw worked as if he was grinding his teeth. Then he gave one brisk nod. “Turn your head.”
Emily blinked. “Turn my... Now wait just a minute! I’ll go out to the bar and—”
“No way. I can’t trust you not to disappear. Just turn around and stare at the door. I’ll only be a minute.”
“But I’ll know what you’re doing!”
He smirked, that was the only word for it. “What’s the matter, honey? You afraid you won’t be able to resist peeking, knowing I’ll be buck naked?”
That was a pretty accurate guess. Emily shook her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. It just isn’t right, that’s all.”
“Afraid one of your society friends might meander along and catch you doing something naughty?” He snorted. “Trust me. Not too many upper-crust types visit this part of town. You won’t catch yourself in the middle of a scandal.”
But she had been caught once, and it had been the most humiliating experience of her life. She’d been alienated from her family ever since.
She thought of that horrid man and nearly cringed. She’d thought herself so above her parents, so understanding of the underprivileged. And she still believed that way. A gentleman was a gentleman, no matter his circumstances. Decency wasn’t something that could be bought. But the man who had swept her off her feet, shown her passion and excitement, had proven himself to be anything but decent.
She’d nearly married him before she’d realized he only wanted her money. Not her. Never her. He’d used her, used her family, made a newsworthy pest of himself, and her parents had never forgiven her for it.
She could still hear herself trying to explain her actions. But her mother believed a lady didn’t involve herself in such situations, under any circumstances.
A lady never lost her head to something as primal as lust.
Lifting her chin, Emily gave Judd the frostiest stare she could devise. “I can most certainly control myself.” Then she turned her back
on him. “Go right ahead, Mr. Sanders. But please make it quick. It is getting rather late.”
Emily heard him chuckling, heard the rustle of clothing, and she held her breath. It was only a matter of a minute and a half before he told her she could turn around.
Very slowly, just in case he was toying with her, Emily peered at him. He was dressed in jeans, and had pulled on a flannel shirt. He was sitting on a crate, tugging on low boots. When he stood to fasten his shirt, Emily noticed he hadn’t yet done up his jeans. She tried not to blush, but it was a futile effort.
He ignored her embarrassment. “So, Emily. Where exactly are you from?”
Her gaze was on his hands as he shoved his shirttails into his pants. “The Crystal Lakes area,” she said. “And you?”
He gave a low, soft whistle. “The Crystal Lakes? Damn. No kidding?”
Annoyed, she finally forced her attention to his face. “I certainly wouldn’t lie about it.”
He took her arm and led her out of the storeroom. He had stuffed his dance props into the leather satchel he carried in his other hand. “I’ll bet you live in a big old place with plenty of rooms, don’t you?”
Emily eyed him with a wary frown. She wasn’t certain how much she should tell him about herself. “I have enough space, I suppose.”
He asked abruptly, “How did you get here?”
“Actually, I took the bus. I didn’t think parking my car here would be such a good idea.”
“No doubt. What do you drive, anyway? A Rolls?”
“Of course not.”
“So?” He pulled her out the door and into the brisk night. “What do you tool around in?”
“Tool around? I drive a Saab.”
“Ah.”
“What does that mean? Ah?” He was moving her along again, treating her like a dog on a leash. And with his long-legged stride, it was all she could do to keep up. He stopped near a back alley, and Emily realized they were at the rear of the bar. “Why didn’t we just go out the back door instead of walking all the way around?”
“‘Ah’ means your choice of transportation shouldn’t surprise me. And we came this way so I could spare you from being harassed. Believe me, the men working in the back would have a field day with an innocent like you.”
Don’t ask. Don’t ask. “What makes you believe I’m an innocent?”
Judd opened the door to a rusty, disreputable pickup truck and motioned for her to get inside. She hesitated, suddenly not certain she should trust him.
But he only stood there, watching her with that intense, probing green gaze. Finally, Emily grabbed the door frame to hoist herself inside.
Judd shook his head. “And you ask how I know you’re an innocent?”
Before Emily could reply, he slammed the door and walked around to get in behind the wheel. “Buckle up.”
She watched his profile as he steered the truck out of the alley and onto the main road. The lights from well-spaced street lamps flashed across his features. Trying to avoid staring at him, she looked around the truck and she saw a strip of delicate black lace draped over the rearview mirror.
Judd noticed her fascination with the sheer lace and grinned. “A memento of my youth.”
Trying for disinterest, Emily muttered, “Really.”
“I was sixteen, she was eighteen.”
Sixteen. The same age as her brother—and obviously into as much mischief as John.
Judd ran his fingers down the lace as if in fond memory. “We were in such a hurry, we ripped her panties getting them off.” He flashed her a grin. “Black lace still makes me crazy.”
Emily went perfectly quiet, then tightly crossed her legs. There’s no way he can know what your panties look like, Emily, she told herself. But still, she made an effort to bring the conversation back to her purpose. She had to find a way to help John.
Reminded of the reason she was with Judd in the first place, Emily turned to him. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I need to find out who’s selling semiautomatic weapons to kids. I...I know a boy who had one blow up in his face. He was badly injured. Luckily, no one else was around.”
The truck swerved, and Judd shot her a look that could have cut ice. “Blew up?”
His tone was harsh, and Emily couldn’t help huddling closer against her door. “Yes. He very nearly lost an eye.”
Judd muttered a curse, but when he glanced at her again, his expression was carefully controlled. “Did you go to the police?”
“I can’t.” She tightened her lips, feeling frustrated all over again. “The boy’s parents won’t allow him to be implicated. They refuse to realize just how serious this situation is. They have money, so they took him out of the country to be treated. They won’t return until they’re certain he’s safe.”
“Yeah. A lot of parents believe bad things will go away if you ignore them. Unfortunately, that’s not true. But Emily, you have to know, there’s nothing you can do to stop the crime on these streets. The drugs, the gangs and the selling of illegal arms, it’ll go on forever.”
“I refuse to believe that!” She turned in her seat, taking her frustration out on him. “I have to do something. Maybe I can figure out a way to stop this guy who sold that gun. If everyone would get involved—”
Judd laughed, cutting her off. “Like the folks who whisked their baby boy out of the country? How old was this kid, anyway? Old enough to know better, I’ll bet.” He shook his head, giving her a look that blatantly called her a fool. “Don’t waste your time. Go back to your rich neighborhood, your fancy car and your fancier friends. Let the cops take care of things.”
She was so angry, she nearly cried. It had always been that way. She never shed a tear over pain or hurt feelings, but let her get really mad, and she bawled like an infant. His attitude toward her brother infuriated her.
Judd stopped at a traffic light, and she jerked her door open, trying to step out. His long hard fingers immediately wrapped around her upper arm, preventing her from leaving.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Let me go.” She was proud of her feral tone. “Did you hear me? Get your hands off me.” She struggled, pulling against his hold.
“Dammit! Get back in this truck!”
The light had changed and the driver of the car behind them blasted his horn. “I’ve changed my mind, Mr. Sanders,” she told him. “I no longer require your help. I’ll find someone else, someone who won’t choose to ridicule me every other second.”
He peered at her closely, then sighed. “Aw, hell. Don’t tell me you’re going to cry.”
“No, I am not going to cry!” But she could feel the tears stinging her eyes, which angered her all the more. How could she have been so wrong about him—and he so wrong about her? She didn’t have fancy friends; she didn’t have any friends. Most of the time, she didn’t have anybody—except her brother. She loved him dearly, and John trusted her. When the rest of her family had turned their backs on her, her brother had been there for her, making her laugh, giving her the support she needed to get through it all.
She couldn’t let him down now, even if he didn’t realize he needed her help. He was the only loving family she could claim, the only one who still cared about her, despite her numerous faults. And she knew, regardless of the gun incident, John was a good person.
Several cars were blaring their horns now, and Judd yanked her back inside, retaining his hold as he moved out of the stream of traffic and over to the curb. He didn’t release her. “Look, I’m sorry. Don’t go and get weepy on me, okay?”
“You, Mr. Sanders, are an obnoxious ass!” Emily jerked against him, but he held firm. “I always cry when I’m angry.”
“Well...don’t be angry then.”
Unbelievable. The man had been derisive, insulting and arrogant from the moment she’d met him, but now his tone had changed to a soft, gentle rebuke. He had a problem with female tears? She almost considered giving in to a real tantrum just to make hi
m suffer, but that had never been her way. The last thing she wanted from Judd was pity.
“Ignore me,” she muttered, feeling like a fool. “It’s been a trying week. But I am determined to see this thing through. I’ll find the man who sold that gun. I have a plan, a very solid plan. I could certainly use your help, but if you’re only going to be nasty, I believe I’d rather just find someone else.”
* * *
Judd was amazed by her speech. Then his eyes narrowed. No way in hell was he going to let her run loose. She was a menace. She was a pain.
She was unbelievably innocent and naive.
Judd shook his head, then steered the truck back into the street. “Believe me, lady. I’m about as nice as you’re going to find in these parts. Besides, I think I might be interested in your little plan, after all. I mean, what the hell? A thousand bucks is a thousand bucks. That was the agreed amount, right?”
Emily nodded.
Lifting one shoulder, Judd said, “Can’t very well turn down money like that.”
“No. No, I wouldn’t think so.” She watched him warily, and Judd thought, what the hell? It would be easier to work with her, than around her. If he turned her down, she’d only manage to get in his way, or get herself hurt. That was such a repugnant thought, he actually groaned.
He’d have to keep his cool, maintain his cover, and while he was at it, he could keep an eye on her. Maybe he could pretend to help her, but actually steer her far enough away from the trouble that she wouldn’t be any problem at all.
Yeah, right.
It would probably be better to try to convince her to give up her ridiculous plan first. He glanced at her, saw the rigid way she held herself, and knew exactly how to dissuade her. “There are a few conditions we should discuss.”
Emily heaved a deep breath. “Conditions?”
“Yeah. The money’s great. But I’ll still have to work nights at the bar. Actually, only Tuesdays and Thursdays. Ladies’ nights.”
Emily hastened to reassure him. “I don’t have a problem with that. I wouldn’t want to interfere with your...career.”