Hard Days Knight: Under-Cover Knights, Book 1

by Livia Quinn

  “Bye, Mr. Larue. Come on, Reuben. Let’s go down to the library. I signed us up for two computers at 3:30.” The shorter Reuben clomped over to her. Monette swung the long strapped purse over her shoulder and they walked out together.

  CHAPTER 8

  “Well, it wasn’t a perfect BE day but it could have been a lot worse.” Luc held his breath waiting to hear what Delilah thought.

  “Luc, I don’t know how it usually goes but I was impressed with everyone involved. Those young people are remarkably invested in this community you’ve built. I was surprised I didn’t face more general antagonism.”

  Del’s intelligence and concern for the people she served made Luc want to know everything about her. When she talked about the kids or her job, her eyes glinted, and she didn’t wait to see what he thought before giving him her opinion. Intelligence, confidence, opinionated were traits the women in his life all shared. He’d dated women who’d lacked those qualities thinking it would be more relaxing, but he’d been wrong. Here was proof, standing right in front of him. Being around her lit the fire in his belly, unlike any woman he’d met before. He wanted her. Wanted to know everything about her. And he wanted her as a regular at the center, for Monette and Tia and the rest of his kids.

  “They don’t blame law enforcement for their situations as much as social services and their absent or abusive families.”

  She handed him the folded tablecloths and he pulled a cabinet open and tucked them inside. Her face was just inches from his shoulder. With the building deserted, the silence created an intimacy in the storeroom.

  “I’m sorry about Tom. That must have been hard.”

  “It was.” She looked down, absently wiping the already clean counter. “People usually assume that because he’s in a wheelchair he couldn’t have sex anymore, so he decided to become a priest. But Tommy took the collar before the shooting, and he says that just reaffirmed his determination to make a difference in the community.”

  She paused, took a breath. “Something I didn’t mention because I didn’t want to negatively influence the group, was that I had my own goal when I took off for the police academy. I wanted revenge. I intended to catch those responsible for Tom’s assault. I still do.”

  He laid his hand on her shoulder and tilted her face up. His eyes were compassionate and kind. “I think you want justice, Del. You may think so, but I doubt you’re capable of revenge. I know Tom.”

  She smiled. “Don’t tell me—Father Tom is a mentor.”

  He laughed. “A regular.”

  “That figures.” She looked up and said softly, “You remind me of him, you know.”

  “Really. I can’t think of a better compliment. Now, who will you turn to for answers, a priest or a romance cover model?”

  Her eyes slanted up, “That’s easy. I’d turn to the man of the cloth, the tartan kilt that is.”

  Luc picked up her hand, threw the cloth in the sink and placed her hand on his shoulder as if they were about to dance. The silence stretched around them like a cocoon.

  Drawing her to him, he said, “If I’m reading that look correctly, then please, don’t slap me when I do this…”

  His left hand slipped into her hair and slowly his face lowered, eyes locked until his lips met hers. His were warm and firm and coaxed hers to open and allow his tongue to gently seek entrance, meeting hers in tentative strokes.

  He tasted wonderful, and smelled of fresh air and male heat. She loved the feel of his strong shoulders under her hands. She inhaled deeply and sucked his tongue into her mouth, hers dancing with his as every thrust drove heat down, down. Her fingers wound through the silky dark strands and she felt the press of his arousal through her jeans as he leaned her against the counter. His hand found her breast and cupped it,thumb swiping across her nipple. She shivered. Then, his arm came around her holding her as he withdrew from the kiss and set his chin on top of her head, breathing hard.

  He blew out a sigh. “Well, Ms. Sexy cop, I’m all for making love on the cot in my office but I promised you dinner.”

  Del was amazed at the speed with which her body had responded to Luc’s. She’d never been the type to be coy or play games, and she wouldn’t start with him. With her face buried in his chest, her blood racing to the beat of his heart beneath her cheek, she said, “I don’t know. How strong is that cot?”

  He pulled back and his smile kicked up on one side. “Okay, since I didn’t scare you off, how long do you need to get ready for dinner?”

  “We’re not going for the cot?” Even to her own ears she sounded disappointed.

  “It’s sweet of you to reconsider, darlin’, but I must pay my debts. Now, off with you. I’ll pick you up at seven. What’s your address?” Del told him and he released her. “Don’t forget. La Maison is black tie on Saturday night.”

  She had forgotten, and knowing how well he looked in costume, she couldn’t wait to see him in a suit and tie.

  CHAPTER 9

  Delilah was nervous. Why, she wondered. She’d been on dozens of dates. But this was the good kind of nerves, with anticipation, desire and wonder all built in. Her heart was beating just a bit faster than usual. She’d been dressed for half an hour and studied herself in the mirror. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t see Del Burke, badge 9111. She saw a rather attractive blonde in a royal blue halter dress that made her eyes stand out and her skin glow. Or maybe that was the anticipation.

  Her thoughts strayed back to the gym kitchen and Luc’s kiss, his hand on her breast. Her breathing quickened and the skin above the bodice of her dress took on a rosy blush. Her hand slipped inside the halter, adjusting the fit. As her fingers brushed the nipple, heat pooled between her thighs. If she didn’t change the direction of her thoughts, she’d be pulling Luc into the apartment and having her way with him at 7:01.

  The doorbell rang. Delilah jumped. “Coming.” She leaned into the mirror making one last check of her makeup and jewelry.

  When she opened the door, she reconsidered dragging Luc off to her bed. The man was GQ-ad gorgeous in his black suit, white pleated shirt and…she leaned forward…a black and gold New Orleans Saints tie.

  “Love the tie, she said. His hair was loose nearly to his shoulders and when he issued an order for her to stand back so he could admire her dress, fire nearly sparked from his eyes. “You are so beautiful, you make my eyes hurt.”

  She laughed, thinking maybe it was a line but the proof of his attraction was making his trousers bulge. She placed a hand on his chest. “And I thought the man in the kilt was sexy.” Her hand slid down his torso, feeling the hard abs beneath her touch and—

  “Don’t go any lower or we’re not leaving here, and we won’t be having even a late dinner,” he growled.

  She smiled up at him. “Are you sure? You wouldn’t have to settle for a cot. I have a nice king sized—”

  Luc stopped her with his lips on hers. The kiss was a wildfire of need and promised long, thorough completion. She reached up to thread her hands in his hair and sighed into the kiss as she participated fully, trading thrusts with his. Her hips moved against his and he groaned, ending the kiss reluctantly, blowing out a breath.

  He blinked and shook his head as if to clear it. “We’d better get out of here. Take another look at your makeup, lady, and let’s go while I can still restrain myself,” he said gritting his teeth.

  She took a last look at her flushed face in the mirror and couldn’t stop smiling, as the full promise of the evening settled on her. Repairing her make up and tossing her navy scarf over her arm, she returned to the living room. She grabbed her badge and clutch and turned to him, noticing he again looked composed and model handsome. Just looking at him made her shiver. “Ready?”

  *

  The minutes after that scene in her apartment could have been awkward especially for a first date, but from the moment he’d seated her in his Dark Blue Expedition—not a sports car —and asked if she preferred classical or rock, the con
versation had been easy. The maitre’d showed them to a secluded corner table overlooking the marina, and they were in the middle of a discussion about the new mayor’s policies on downtown development when the moon rose in a clear black sky and glittered across the gently rippling water below. They fell into a comfortable silence admiring the view. She couldn’t believe she’d only known him three days.

  She felt his hand slide over hers. Turning away from the window back to him, she studied the look on his face as he looked at her hand. “No professional manicure there,” she said. “I spend the extra I make on more important things.”

  “I like that about you,” Luc said. “Very… practical. Sensible. Good traits for a cop.” He smiled remembering their talk at the gym. “What are the things you spend those extra pennies on, besides that dress I desperately want to get you out of?”

  The first sign of heat since they’d left her apartment flared in his eyes. She remembered thinking they were fake. “Do you wear contacs?”

  “Nope. Perfect vision, why?”

  She chuckled. “When I first saw you I was sure no one could have eyes that green.”

  “Family trait. They brought their share of grief growing up.”

  The waiter interrupted to take their order and pour the wine. Del sipped it with approval. “Good choice. I’m usually a sweet red girl myself but I like it.”

  “So tell me what gorgeous lady cops care about?”

  She laughed. “The cops I work with wouldn’t recognize me tonight if they walked through that door. Of course, most of them are probably at O’Brien’s Pub. This is a little out of a street cop’s price range. In real life I’m a boring little penny-pinching bureaucrat with a passion for my job and…” she looked down where their fingers were entwined.

  “And…” he angled his head as his fingers drew lazy circles on her hand that sent a shiver down her arm while he waited.

  “Flowers. I’m saving for a little house in the country where I can spend my spare time creating flower beds, doing some box gardening, maybe entering a few in some competitions.”

  “Flower competitions?” Luc’s eyebrows went up. She laughed, “Don’t look so surprised. It’s roses.” She considered for a second, and then leaned forward. “Actually, I think I’ve created a new variety. I’m trying to decide what to name it. If you were wondering why I live in such a small apartment it’s because I have a big backyard for an apartment and they don’t care what I do with it as long as I take it with me when I move. It’s just not enough space.”

  “For… roses.”

  She nodded. She started to say, ‘Sounds crazy, huh?’ when he said, “So what would a man have to do to see these top secret roses? I can keep a secret. I have the clearance to prove it.”

  She smiled, “We’ll see…”

  The waiter arrived and took Delilah’s order. “I’ll have the Storm Lake flame broiled catfish with dill sauce.” The waiter said, “Excellent choice, Ma’am.” He turned to Luc, “And you sir, your usual?”

  Delilah raised a brow. “Luc said, “No, Martin, I believe I’ll have the N.Y. strip tonight with a double portion of the vegetable medley.”

  The waiter left and Luc explained, “What can I say; I’m a regular. They have the best fresh meat and vegetables and the chef is very accommodating to my special diet and training regimen.”

  The vision in Del’s memory of Luc in his Scottish highlander garb, was answered with a twinge from her gut as she pictured the definition in his powerful calves, the washboard abs which felt like steel. His arms bulging as he held onto that hussy in the hallway. She stuffed down a frisson of jealousy.

  “What is it?” he frowned.

  She shook her head, “It’s nothing. So, tell me, how did a former Naval officer become a cover model? It’s not that I see anything wrong with it—”

  “Don’t apologize. There are plenty of misconceptions out there. If I’m a fitness expert ‘I must be doing it because I’m too dumb to find a real job’; if I’m really fit and have great muscle definition, I ‘must use steroids’; and if I do romance covers ‘I’m probably gay’. There are more…” He sat back so the waiter could serve their food. “As far as how I got into the business…how much do you know about Knights Production?”

  “I’d heard it was owned by a former military contractor, which I assume is quite out of the ordinary as far as talent agencies go. Isn’t that what KPI is considered?”

  “It started out that way with Buffy, Ridge’s wife. But Ridge had the idea to expand and take advantage of the ever-present need for models, actors, book covers and movie trailers. Did you know Larue is considered the South’s ‘Hollywood’? As a matter of fact, only New York and California produce more movies than we do in Louisiana.”

  “That, I didn’t know. Though we’ve had to supply security for the various movies that have filmed here.”

  “Ridge and Buffy came to me right after they got married. Buffy was a former cover model—wait ’til you hear how they met. I was trying to find ways to support the teen center so I could leave the service and give it my full attention. Ridge made me a deal. He’d oversee the reno on the building if I’d come to work for them when I got out. That was two years ago and he more than kept his end of the bargain. Ridge and Buffy hire law enforcement and military at KPI. It’s a priority for them to put transitioning soldiers to work.”

  “That makes good sense. I imagine many are already fit.”

  “Not nearly fit enough for modeling, but they have a good start on the discipline it takes to get in this kind of shape. ‘Knights’ is a nod to the heroes of old and those who serve today. KPI’s put forty vets to work so far, male and female.”

  Delilah put her fork down and reached for her wine. The waiter appeared and asked if she was satisfied with her dinner. She smiled at him, “It was perfect. Thank you. ”

  “Have you and Jed been partners long?” Luc asked.

  “Four years,” said Del. “The first year we were together there were some adjustment issues, personality differences but we’ve learned to use them to our advantage in our investigation and interrogation techniques. I can’t imagine a different partner now.”

  She raised her wine glass and sipped as Luc said, “I was thinking…Jed would make a great cover model.”

  Del choked on her wine, and cleared her throat. “You don’t know Jed. He may have thought it was cool that you were a stunt double but trust me, I don’t think you’d talk him into a romance novel cover anytime soon. Not Mr. Macho.”

  Luc shrugged. “I never gave it much thought myself until Ridge approached me and my family encouraged me to try it.”

  “Do you come from a big family?”

  “I’m one of six, the son of a career military officer…” he paused, “… and a mostly stay-at-home dad.”

  “Really! How—”

  “Strange, I know. Mom had my oldest sister the year after she got out of training. Dad married her knowing that the service was her dream. It was one of those first came Navy, then baby, then came marriage stories. My sister is fond of saying they ‘anticipated their vows’.” He leaned back in his chair, smiling.

  “What does she think of your job as a cover model?”

  “She buys up all the books she can find. She says she’s trying to support me, but I found a couple boxes of them in her extra bedroom last Christmas. I think she’s embarrassed.”

  “So where are you in the hierarchy of siblings?”

  He drummed his fingers on the table then leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, “What do you think?”

  She ran everything she knew about him through a mental filter. “If you hadn’t said you had an older sister I might have guessed first born.”

  He shook his head and the smile widened. “I’m the baby, another unanticipated result of an early Christmas homecoming. Mom was thirty-eight. I was the only kid in the family raised mostly by my mother. Rachel—big sister—says it’s the reason I’m both spoiled rotten an
d more disciplined than the rest of them. Dad was a pushover. Mom—not for a second.

  “Are they still around?”

  “Oh yeah, as a matter of fact next weekend we’re getting together for a birthday party slash reunion. You said you were off this weekend. Why don’t you come with me? It’ll be fun. We play football, eat a lot, act like complete fools.”

  It was a little early in a relationship to have her boyfriend take her home to meet the family.

  Wait. Had she just thought of him as her boyfriend?

  He must have been reading her mind because he said, “Don’t make up your mind now… Wait til after dinner.” Laughing he said, “Just kidding. But really don’t count it out. We have a blast.”

  Every minute she spent in Luc’s company, every new revelation just made her want more. She intended to enjoy the evening to the fullest—the easy conversation, the strong undercurrent of desire, maybe even a dance or two. And then she was going to take Luc Larue home to her bed.

  CHAPTER 10

  His family would love her, Luc thought.

  The moon had risen to its full glory, lunar light creating a gallery worthy portrait of the marina below, the bright foam of the lake splashing against the sea wall in feisty waves.

  “Hey, do you dance?”

  “Um, not lately. Why?” She looked down at her dress and back up at him.

  “Don’t worry, it’s perfect for where we’re going,” he said. He got the waiter’s attention and paid the bill, leaving a generous tip. He led her out the front door to the elevator. After pressing the button, he took her hand. “We’re only going up one floor to Ooh La La.”

  Her eyes widened. “The Latin dance club?”

  “Yep. Don’t worry, what you don’t know, I’ll teach you.”

  “Is that so?” She stared at him.

  “Don’t get any ideas. One of my other sisters is a dance instructor. I grew up in her dance studio. I tried pretending I was bored or too macho but when she started teaching guys, I joined in.”