by Lori Foster
She should have felt guilty for behaving so improperly, but all her mind kept repeating was, Let’s do it again. She shook her head at herself, dismissing that errant notion and trying to remember her purpose. Judd must have misunderstood, because he turned away.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Emily blinked several times. “I beg your pardon?”
Judd whirled to face her, once again furious. “I said, I’m sorry, dammit. I shouldn’t have done that. It won’t happen again.”
Oh, darn. “No, of course not. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have been telling you all my problems and—”
“Shut up, Emily.”
She did, and stared at him, waiting to see what he would do, what he wanted her to do.
“Damn.” He snatched her close again, pressed another hard, entirely too quick kiss to her lips, then set her away. “I take it back. It probably will happen again. Hopefully, not for a while, but...I’m not making any promises. If you don’t want me ever to touch you, just say so, all right?”
Emily remained perfectly still, unwilling to take a chance that he might misunderstand her response if she moved. She prided herself on the fact she wasn’t a hypocrite. No, she wanted Judd, and she was thrilled beyond reason that he apparently wanted her, too. And since he held rather obvious scorn for her background—that of money and privilege—he wouldn’t expect her to play the part of the proper lady. No, Judd had already made it clear where his preferences lay. Any man who could strip for a living was obviously on the earthy side, primal and lusty and...her heart skipped two beats while she waited to see what he’d do next.
He laughed. It wasn’t a humorous laugh, but one of wonder and disbelief. “You’re something else, Emily, you know that? Here, sit down.” He loosened her death grip on the chair back and nudged her toward the seat. “Don’t go away. I’m going to shower and finish getting dressed, then we’ll make some plans, okay?”
She sat. She nodded. She felt ready to explode with anticipation.
Judd ruffled her hair, still shaking his head, and left the room.
* * *
He made certain it was a cold shower, but the temperature of the water didn’t help to cool the heat of his body. Never could he remember being hit so hard. Holding her felt right, talking to her felt right. Hell, kissing her had been as right as it could get—bordering on blissful death.
He could only imagine how it would feel to...no. He’d better not imagine or he’d find himself right back in the shower.
How could one woman be so damn sweet? He’d have thought all that money and her parents’ attitudes would have soured her, but it hadn’t. Emily loved. She loved her brother, she loved the children in her neighborhood. She even loved the homeless who visited the kitchen where she volunteered. He’d heard it in her tone, seen it in her eyes.
God, she was killing him.
He had to stay objective, and that meant getting back to business. He finished dragging a comb through his damp hair and left the bathroom.
Emily hadn’t moved a single inch. And if he hadn’t already had a little taste of her, he’d believe her prissy pose, with her knees pressed tightly together, and her slim hands folded in her lap. Ha! What a facade. He dragged his eyes away from her wary gaze and began stuffing her thermos and empty dishes back into the basket. “You ready to go?”
“Ah...go where?”
He flicked an impatient glance her way. “To find your gun dealer. I thought we’d hit some of the local establishments. The pool hall, first. Then maybe the diner. And tonight, the bar.”
“Are you...dancing tonight?”
“No. I’ve got all weekend free. I only dance on Tuesdays and Thursdays, remember?” He noticed her sigh of relief and frowned at her. “But you will be there when I dance, Em. To pull this off, you’re going to have to be my biggest fan. Everyone will have to believe I’m yours. You can be as territorial as you like. Besides, I can use you as a smoke screen. If the ladies all believe I’m already spoken for, they might not be so persistent.”
Emily pursed her lips, her shoulders going a little straighter. “Are you certain that’s what you want? I don’t wish to interfere in your social life.”
“You know, Em, you don’t sound the least bit sincere.”
She looked totally flustered now, and it was all he could do not to laugh. “Come on, let’s get going.”
Holding her arm, a manner that felt as right as everything else he did with her, Judd hustled her down to the street and into his truck. He waited until she’d settled herself, then asked, “Did your brother mention what the guy who sold him the gun looked like?”
Emily shook her head. “He wasn’t in much condition to talk when I saw him last. I did get him to tell me where he’d bought it, though. But all he said about the man was that he’d grinned when he sold him the gun.”
Judd noticed she’d tucked her hands into fists again, and he reached over to entwine her fingers with his. “When was your brother hurt?”
“Not quite a month ago. I saw him right afterward and then my parents took him away as soon as the hospital allowed it. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”
“So you have no idea how he’s doing?”
Emily turned away to stare out the side window. Her voice dropped to a low pitch, indicating her worry. “I’ve talked to him on the phone. He...he’s very depressed. Though my parents evidently refuse to believe it, the plastic surgeons have already done all they can. The worst of the scars have been minimized. But the burns from the backfire did some extensive damage to the underlying tissue around his upper cheek and temple. He claims his face still looks horrid, but I don’t believe it’s as bad as he thinks. He’s...he’s always been popular in school, especially with the girls. I guess he thinks his life is over. I tried to make him look on the positive side, that his eyesight wasn’t permanently damaged, but I don’t suppose he can see a bright side right now.”
Her voice broke, but Judd pretended he hadn’t heard. He instinctively knew she wouldn’t appreciate her loss of control. For such a small woman, she had an overabundance of pride and gumption, and he had no intention of denting it.
He squeezed her fingers again and kept his eyes focused on the road. “When will he be home again?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t spoken with my parents.” She sent him a tilted smile. “They’re blaming me for this. They say I’m a bad influence on him.”
“You?” Judd couldn’t hide his surprise.
“I work with the underprivileged. I don’t own a single fur coat. And I live in an old house that constantly needs repair.”
“Your house? I thought your house was terrific.”
She seemed genuinely pleased by his praise. “Thank you. But the plumbing is dreadful. I’ve had almost everything replaced, but now the hot-water heater is about to go. Either the water is ice-cold, or so hot it could scald you. I thought my father would disown me when he burned his hand on the kitchen faucet. But even more than my house, my parents hate that I refuse to marry a man they approve of. They want me to ‘settle into my station in life.’” Emily laughed. “Doesn’t that sound ridiculous?”
“Settling down? Not really. I think you’d make a fantastic wife and mother.” Dead silence followed his claim, and Judd could have bitten his tongue in two. It was bad enough that he still yearned for a real family. But to say as much to Emily? She was probably worried, especially after that kiss he’d given her, that he might have designs on her.
He slanted a look her way, and noticed a bright blush on her cheeks. Trying to put her at ease, he said, “You look like a domestic little creature, Em. That’s all I meant.”
Those wide brown eyes of hers blinked, and then she started mumbling to herself. He couldn’t quite catch what she was saying. Judging from the tone, though, he probably wouldn’t want to hear it, anyway. He had the suspicion she was giving him a proper set-down—in her own, polite way.
Judd was contemplating her reaction, and the
reason for it, when they pulled up in front of the pool hall. It was still early, well before noon, so he didn’t expect the place to be overly crowded. Only the regulars would be there, the men who made shooting pool an active part of their livelihood.
Clayton Donner was one of those men.
Judd didn’t expect to see him here today, but he never knew when he might get lucky. And in the meantime, he’d find out a little more about Donner.
Emily was silent as he led her into the smoky interior. Unlike the lighting at the bar, it was bright here, and country music twanged from a jukebox in the far corner. Some of the men looked as if they’d been there all night and the low-hanging fluorescent lights added a gray cast to their skin. Others looked merely bored, and still others were intent on their game. But they all looked up at Emily. Judd could feel her uneasiness, but for the moment, he played his role and, other than put his arm around her shoulders to mark his claim, he paid her little attention.
Leaning down to whisper in her ear, he said, “Play along with me now. And remember, no matter what happens, don’t lose your cool.” Then he gave her a kiss on the cheek and a swat on the behind. “Get me a drink, will ya, honey?”
He gave a silent prayer she’d do as she was told, then sauntered over to the nearest table. “Hey, Frog. You been here all night?”
Frog, as his friends called him, had a croak for a voice, due to a chop to the larynx that had damaged his throat during a street fight. Frog didn’t croak now, though. He was too busy watching Emily as she made her way cautiously to the bar, careful not to touch anyone or anything.
Judd gave a feral grin. “That’s mine, Frog, so put your eyes back in your head.”
Frog grunted. “What the hell are you doing with her? She ain’t your type.”
Judd shrugged. “She’s rich. She’s my type.”
Frog thought that was hilarious, and was still laughing when Emily carried a glass of cola to Judd. He took a sip, then choked. Glaring in mock anger, Judd demanded, “What the hell is that?”
Emily raised her eyebrows, but didn’t look particularly intimidated by his tone. “A drink?”
“Damn, I don’t want soda. I meant a real drink.” Actually, Judd never touched liquor. He knew alcoholism tended to run in families, and after living with his father, he wouldn’t ever take the chance of becoming like him. Still, he handed the glass back to Emily, then said with disgust, “You drink it. And stay out of my way. I’m going to shoot some pool here with Frog.”
Emily huffed. She started to walk away, but Judd caught her arm and she landed against his chest. Before she could draw a breath, he kissed her. It wasn’t a killer kiss like the one he’d given her earlier, but it was enough to show everyone they were definitely an item. He drew away, but couldn’t resist giving her a quick, soft peck before adding, “Behave yourself, honey. I won’t be long.”
Emily nodded, apparently appeased, and went to perch on a stool. Judd looked at her a moment longer, appreciating the pretty picture she made, waiting there for him. She dutifully smiled, and looked as if she’d wait all day if that was what he wanted.
It was the kind of fantasy he could really get into, having a woman like Emily for his own. But he couldn’t spare the time or the energy to get involved with her or anyone else. He needed, and wanted, to focus all his attention on taking Donner off the streets. The man had stolen a huge hunk of his life when he’d killed Max. Judd wasn’t ever going to forget that.
So instead of indulging in the pleasure he got by simply watching Emily, he turned away. He knew she didn’t realize what he’d done, making her look like a woman he could control with just a little physical contact, but every man in the room understood.
And even though that had been his intent, Judd hated every damn one of them for thinking that about Emily. It was bad enough that he’d sold himself to trap Donner, but now he was selling Emily, too. It didn’t sit right with him, but at the moment, his choices were limited, and the only alternative was to postpone his plans. Which was really no alternative at all.
* * *
Emily had no idea investigating could be so exhausting, though Judd did the actual work. All she did was pretend to be his ornament. It rankled, but until she could get him alone and set him straight about how this little partnership was going to work, she didn’t want to take the chance of messing things up.
Judd had been shooting pool for quite some time when the door opened and three men walked in. One was a heavyset man, dirty and dressed all in black, with the name Jonesie written across his T-shirt. Another was a relatively young man, looking somewhat awed by his own presence.
It was the third man, though, that caught and held Emily’s attention. There was something about him, a sense of self-confidence, that set him apart. He didn’t look like a criminal, but something about him made Emily uncomfortable. He wore only a pair of pleated slacks and a polo shirt. His blond ponytail was interesting, but not actually unusual. In truth, Emily supposed he could be called handsome, but he held no appeal for her. He simply seemed too...pompous.
When his gaze landed on her, she quickly looked away and kept her eyes focused on Judd. And because she was watching Judd so intently, she saw the almost imperceptible stiffening of his body. He’d only glanced up once to see who had walked in, then he’d continued with his shot, smoothly pocketing the nine ball. But Emily felt she was coming to know him well enough to see the tension in his body.
She was still pondering the meaning of that tension when the men approached where she sat.
“Hey, Clay, you want something to drink?”
The blonde smiled toward Emily and took the stool next to her before answering Jonesie. “No. I’m fine. I think I’ll just watch the...scenery, for a while.”
Emily wanted to move away, but she didn’t. Not even on the threat of death would she turn and meet that smile, though she felt it as the man, Clay, continued to watch her. When he touched her arm, she jumped.
“Well, now, honey. No need to be nervous. I was only going to get acquainted.”
Emily shook her head and tried to shrug his hand away. Instead of complying with her obvious wish, his well-manicured fingers curled around her arm. His touch repulsed her. She jumped off the stool and stepped back...right into the younger of the three men. She was caught.
This was nothing like talking to the drunks the other night. She’d felt some sense of control then. But now, as Clay chuckled at her reaction and reached out to stroke her cheek, she felt a scream catch in her throat. His fingers almost touched her skin—and then Judd was there, gripping the man’s arm by the wrist and looking as impenetrable as a stone wall.
“The lady is mine. And no one touches her but me.”
* * *
Judd narrowed his eyes, hoping, without the benefit of common sense, that Clayton would take him up on his challenge. He knew he wasn’t thinking straight. He could destroy his entire case if he unleashed his temper now, but at the moment, none of that mattered.
He’d kept Donner in his sights from the moment he’d walked in, and he’d thought he’d be able to keep his cool even after Donner noticed Emily. But he hadn’t counted on Emily’s reaction.
When he’d seen her face and realized she was frightened, all he’d cared about was getting to her, staking his claim and making certain she knew there was nothing to fear. The fact that she was afraid should have angered him, and probably would once he had time to think about it. Didn’t she know he wouldn’t let anyone hurt her? Hell, he’d take the whole place apart before he’d see her hair get mussed.
But he supposed she couldn’t know that, because even now, with him beside her, she still looked horrified. And then she got a hold of herself and smiled, a false smile, to be sure, and stepped to his side. “It’s okay, Judd. Really.”
Clayton looked down at his wrist where Judd still held him. The gesture was a silent command to be released, but Judd wasn’t exactly in an accommodating mood. He tightened his hold for the briefe
st of seconds, gaining a raised eyebrow from Donner, then he let go. The younger man took a step forward, and Judd bared his teeth in a parody of a grin, encouraging him.
Emily seemed nearly frantic now, saying, “Come on, Judd. Let’s go.”
But he had no intention of going anywhere. Emily didn’t know, couldn’t know, the riot of emotions he was suffering right now. His desire to avenge Max mixed with his need to protect Emily, and he felt ready to explode with repressed energy. This was what he’d been waiting for. He could feel Donner’s interest, his curiosity, and he knew he’d finally succeeded. If Donner’s crony wanted to take him on, he was ready. More than ready. At this point, Donner would only be impressed with his ruthlessness. His muscles twitched in anticipation.
Then Donner laughed. “Don’t be a fool, Mick. Our friend here is only trying to protect his interests. I can understand that.”
The young man, Mick, moved away, but he did so reluctantly. Judd flexed his hands and tried to get himself under control. He stared at Clayton, then nodded and turned away, making certain he blocked Emily with his body. He knew Donner wouldn’t like being dismissed, but he also didn’t want to appear too eager.
Frog was standing at the pool table with his mouth hanging open, and Judd had to remind him it was his shot.
“No more for me,” Frog said. “I’m done.”
And in the next instant, Clayton was there, slapping Frog on the back and smiling. “So, what do you have for me, Frog?”
Frog pulled money out of his pocket, looking decidedly uncomfortable, and handed the bills to Clayton. As he counted, Clayton continued to smile, and then he asked, “That’s it?”
Frog shifted his feet, glancing up at Judd and then away again. “I lost some of it.”
“Is that so?”
Judd carefully laid his pool cue on the table then faced Clayton with a smile. He couldn’t have asked for a better setup. “It seems I was having a lucky morning.” His smile turned deliberately mocking, and he flicked his own stack of bills.
Again, Mick started forward, clearly unwilling to overlook such an insult to Clayton, and this time Jonesie was with him. But again, Clayton raised a hand. “Let’s not be hasty.” And to Judd, he said, “I’d like to meet the man who just took two hundred dollars of my money.”