“To clean up first, then I’m going to go fix your lights.”
“Aw, my hero.”
“Yep, that’s me.” He flexed his arms in a superhero pose then lowered them when he realized the effect was lost in the dark.
Max was beginning to wonder who Jordan really was. She lived in a moderate apartment, had a job that surely didn’t pay a ton—although she had mentioned another job so he guessed she did all right. She had to be if she had the kind of money he now needed to replace the Tiffany lamp he’d dumped on the floor and allowed to shatter into a million pieces. His mother had enough of the damn things in the home he’d grown up in that he’d known as soon as he’d seen the colorful light shade that it had been a Tiffany.
Of course she could have inherited the item, in which case he felt like an even bigger moron.
And she was probably wondering how the hell he was going to pay for such an extravagant item.
Nevertheless, it would give him the chance to see her again.
He turned and felt his way to the bathroom he’d seen to the right, hoping to God he didn’t stub another toe or worse, cause the Waterford vase he’d observed to come off the dresser next to the door. That’s all he needed, to be into her for another grand on top of the Tiffany. Not that he couldn’t afford it, he just didn’t want her feeling guilty for thinking he couldn’t.
He made his way to the sink and over to the toilet.
“Trashcan’s between the toilet and sink,” she said, right behind him, making him come out of his skin.
Some security specialist. He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”
After disposing of the condom and washing his hands he worked his way back out. Now, though, he could see a minute amount, mainly her silhouette in the doorway. There was a glow behind her.
“Where is that light coming from?” He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face the illumination.
“The street, I guess. I opened the blinds because I saw it coming through the cracks.”
“Why are the streetlights on but not the build…? Never mind. Your breaker wouldn’t make all the lights in the neighbor—”
A crash of glass breaking interrupted him. Max shoved Jordan behind his back and put himself between her and the bedroom doorway. Someone was breaking into her apartment and Max had no clothes on. Even more disturbing was the fact that his gun was out in the car where’d he’d left it so Jordan wouldn’t discover it and ask questions.
“Get in the closet and stay there until I tell you to come out,” he murmured. Jordan shivered behind him, her hands fisted at his shoulder blades.
“What the hell do you think you’re going to do?”
“My job.” Anything and everything to protect her. The lights going out and someone breaking in wasn’t a coincidence.
“What kind of job do you have? Cop?”
“Something like that.” He shoved her toward the closet door, thankful he’d absorbed the layout of the room when he’d entered.
“You can’t go out there naked,” she insisted quietly, pushing something soft into his hands. It felt like a robe of some kind. Damn him for leaving his phone attached to the waistband of his pants which were still out in the foyer.
“Call nine-one-one from your phone and stay the hell hidden.”
There was a soft curse from the front room and the crunching of glass. Their uninvited guest had just found the Tiffany.
“Hide now.” Fuck the robe. Max was going into battle Highlander style, sans clothes.
He tiptoed to the door and heard Jordan mutter, “Stupid fool.” A half-inch-wide beam of light illuminated the Tiffany glass. The shards sparkled from the hardwood, then the beam swept away. Whoever the perp was, he wasn’t after Jordan for the moment. Max would make sure it stayed that way.
A black-clad figure complete with mask trailed the light to a desk in the far corner of the TV room. The light disappeared for a second behind the intruder then reappeared on the opposite side of the desk. The squeaking of the chair when the man pushed it out of the way was followed by another muttered curse.
He flicked through the papers on the desk, almost negligently causing them to flutter to the ground, then laid the pencil holder on its side, letting the pencils fall out.
What the hell? Something was way off.
Next the man moved to the couch and threw a pillow to the floor. There was no freaking purpose to the man’s movements. They were totally random.
At the coffee table he slid the magazines off and shoved the whole table out of whack. The cushions on the couch were the next to fall to his careful disheveling.
The man was trying to make it look like someone had ransacked the place.
Furthermore, though he was being quiet, he didn’t exactly seem worried about getting caught, so he either didn’t think the occupant of the apartment was home or hoped she was asleep, which didn’t seem too likely considering it wasn’t exactly the dead of night or anything.
Max crept his way along the wall, careful not to reveal himself until he could get close enough. Unfortunately the Tiffany had spread out farther than he thought. It crackled beneath his bare foot, cutting into his skin. Max hissed.
The man looked up, his widened eyes eerily lit up through the slit in the mask by the flashlight. He sprang from his seat and shot through the doorway leading to the kitchen. Max stepped on more glass while giving chase.
“Son of a bitch.” A door slammed. No way in hell would Max catch up. Not naked and sporting glass in his feet.
“Is he gone?” Jordan’s voice made him turn around from where he stood staring at the dark door.
“I thought I told you to hide.”
She snorted. “As if. You’re in the buff and barefoot, in case you hadn’t noticed. I wasn’t going to let you chase some maniac like that.”
A strong light flicked on, making him squint in its brightness.
“Found a flashlight and called the police. They’re on their way so you might want to think about putting some clothes on before they get here.” She shined the light on the floor and pointed out his pants and shirt.
Max hobbled over to them, pissed off. A woman coming to his rescue when she should still be nestled inside some hidey-hole.
“What’s wrong?”
“Stepped on the glass I broke earlier. Be careful, it’s right where you’re standing.”
“That’s why I put shoes on.” She moved closer to him where he sat after gathering his clothes. “Let me see.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Let me see, macho man.”
“Fine.” He lifted one foot so she could see the bottom.
“Shit. Don’t put the shoes on. I’ve got to go get some tweezers.” She turned back the way she came. “Or maybe a pair of pliers.”
In the dark once more, Max was left to wonder who the hell had broken in and why. Then again, the woman had Tiffany and Waterford so there was no telling what else she had. Which made him want to get up and investigate.
Also made him want to put a fist through the man’s face for daring to enter her residence.
Just what the hell was going on?
Chapter Five
The lights were still off when the police arrived. Max could have gone outside to investigate, but he wasn’t willing to leave Jordan alone, and with the police minutes away, he’d cooled his heels and waited. He was happy to see the officer who entered was someone he knew.
“Simmons.” Max shook the officer’s hand and gestured him inside. He left the door open so they might see better in the spill of light from the street. It aided the glow of candles Jordan had lit in the last few minutes while waiting for the police.
“What’re you doing here, Jensen?”
“You two know each other?” Jordan paused in sweeping the shards of glass into a dustpan.
“Yes,” Max answered her, then turned his attention back to Simmons. “I was with Ms…Jordan, when this went down.”
Officer Si
mmons looked down at Max’s hastily wrapped feet. “What happened to your feet?”
Max pointed to the floor littered with the glass. “I knocked over the lamp earlier then stepped all over it when I was chasing the suspect out.”
Simmons’s right eyebrow rose impressively. “You were barefoot? So I’m guessing this wasn’t a professional call.”
Jordan spoke before Max could. “Yes. He was barefoot. Now you’ve probably gathered that we were sleeping together so can we just get on with why someone broke into my apartment?”
Simmons’ other eyebrow rose to meet the first. “Absolutely. When did the lights first go off?”
Jordan cocked her head to the side in thought. Good thing she seemed to know because apart from the throb in his toe from kicking the damn table and then the mind-blowing sex, Max wasn’t sure he would have been able to tell Simmons if an elephant had been dancing in the room.
“Mmm…maybe thirty minutes or so ago.”
Simmons nodded, stuffed the small Maglite under his chin so he could see and wrote the time down in a little notebook he pulled from his pocket. “I checked. Electricity is only out in this apartment. Rest of the complex is on. My partner’s out checking the box right now. The caller told the dispatcher the perp was gone. We’ve got a unit cruising, looking for anybody out of place. Doubt we’ll find anyone though.”
Simmons surveyed the room. “Tell me what happened.”
“We were in the bedroom.” No use hiding anything now that Jordan had outed them with her first breath. “Heard glass breaking. I told Jordan to hide in the closet then I tiptoed down the hall. I saw a black shape and the beam of a flashlight, like a mini. He went straight for the desk in the corner.” He stabbed a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the desk. “Kind of rooted around for a bit, tipped over the pencil holder, moved the cushions on the couch. If he was looking for something, he sure didn’t seem to be in a hurry to do it. It was more a methodical ransacking. I couldn’t figure out what the hell he was doing. I’d have gotten to him except I stepped on the damn glass and alerted him. He bolted before I could get across the mess and went out the door.”
“You armed?”
“Armed?” Jordan’s voice went a couple octaves higher than normal. “He was naked, where would he have been armed? Furthermore, why would he have been?”
The lights flicked on, surprising them.
Max took her hand in his and ignored the naked remark. The last thing he needed was to hear the backlash of having chased an intruder naked. “No. It’s in the car.”
“Does she not know what you do?” Simmons seemed shocked as he directed the question at Max.
“No.”
Jordan yanked her hand from Max’s. “What do you do?”
“Max is a security expert.”
Damn Simmons.
“A security expert, huh? Well no wonder you know people.” Now her tone had dropped. “Why didn’t you tell me? Wait a minute. Did my mother send you? Is that what this is about?”
If looks could kill, Max was pretty sure either he or Jordan’s mother was about to die.
“Now hold on. I don’t know your mother, so no she didn’t send me, and I didn’t tell you because it never really came up. I don’t know what you do either.” Well, not everything she did anyway. He didn’t think she’d be very happy about his finding her while he watched one of his cases. God knew how she’d react if she discovered he’d followed her all over town.
The point he was getting at was that neither of them had shared any personal information beyond their first names.
“Touché.” She sort of deflated and returned her attention back to the mess.
Why did he feel like he’d just gotten kicked in the gut?
“Ma’am, can you think of any reason someone might want to break in?”
When she glanced at Simmons, her face was once again composed. In fact, Max could almost swear her eyes glittered with anger. Had to be a trick of the light.
“No. Well. Yes. I guess. Maybe. Not realistically, but theoretically? Maybe.”
“Jordan.”
She whipped her head his direction. “What?”
“Breathe.” He stood behind her, rested his hands on her shoulders and gave her a squeeze, trying hard to ignore the tremor that went through her body. She seemed more nervous now than she had when a stranger had been in her home, and Max’s protective nature went on high alert.
She lifted her chin and spoke to the officer. “My name is Jordan Landon.”
Max dropped his hands and stared at the back of Jordan’s head. It couldn’t be.
“Okay.” Simmons scribbled on his pad.
“Then I guess there’s a few multimillion reasons someone might break into your place.” Max gritted his teeth. Why in the hell was the heiress to Landon Holdings living in an apartment? And where the fuck was her security? He sure hoped to shit she didn’t count a flimsy door lock as security.
Her spine went ramrod straight, and if it were possible for fire to actually shoot from one’s ears, it would be doing so right now from hers.
“Excuse me?” Simmons shifted his weight to his other foot.
“Ms. Landon is Jordan Grace Landon, heiress to Landon Holdings,” Max said softly.
Jordan’s eyes narrowed, but he had no clue why she was angry at him.
“Oh.” This from Simmons who suddenly looked a little awestruck.
Jordan’s hands landed on her hips and her lips thinned. “I’ll have you know that I have lived here for three years without one problem and the first time I bring a man here…” she was slowly turning toward him, “…all of a sudden someone breaks in.” She stabbed her finger into his chest, and he grunted but took the semi-onslaught. “Maybe it’s you they ought to be investigating. Maybe you were sent by someone to keep me occupied while another person went through my things.”
Max captured her finger to keep it from poking him any further and pulled her flush to his body.
“Kamikaze, if I’d been sent to keep you occupied, I wouldn’t have lost my mind after seeing you naked and sent a priceless Tiffany lamp to the floor.”
She sucked in a shocked breath. “You knew that was Tiffany?”
“Baby, we roll in the same circles. Yes, I knew it was Tiffany and I will replace it, I swear. As for the rest of this conversation, can we have it away from Officer Simmons’ ears?”
Jordan appeared as if she’d rather stick a hot poker in his eye but nodded. He kissed her lips because he simply couldn’t resist. Jordan, however, had no problem resisting him, and kept that beautiful mouth of hers sealed.
“So…” Simmons’ gaze went back and forth between Max and Jordan.
“No, there’s no one in particular I can think of off the top of my head who might want to break in.” She sounded tired, as if she just wanted the whole mess to disappear. He couldn’t blame her.
“Then again…” She cocked her head to the side, then those eyes narrowed again and her mouth pursed.
“Who?” The question was echoed by both Max and Simmons.
“Dirk Clement.”
“Who the hell is Dirk Clement?” Max couldn’t contain the possessive growl that slipped out.
“I clean his house.” Her face contorted, and Max had a sneaking suspicion it was with disgust.
Max’s first thought was to look the man up as soon as Simmons left, and his second was he couldn’t wait to see the man with a black eye.
Jordan seethed inside and wondered just what the hell was going on. One minute she was a pole-dancing instructor trying to earn enough money to open her business, the next she was sleeping with a security specialist. Someone exactly the type her mother would plant to keep an eye on her.
Ooh, that woman was going to get an earful. The last thing Jordan needed was another babysitter.
And Max? Goddamn it. The man had taken his duties to the next level, hadn’t he? Sleeping with her? She guessed he at least got out of it whatever her mother had paid
him.
The whole idea made her feel sleazier than Dirk Clement ever had. At least Dirk had nothing to do with her mother. Clement had his own nefarious reasons. He’d been trying to worm his way into her bed in the utmost of immoral fashions. Hadn’t he been trying to do that since the moment he’d hired her? But break into her apartment?
Jordan shivered in revulsion. Gross. Absolutely gross.
She seethed in silence, waiting for Max to return from walking Officer Simmons out. She’d had the most fantastic sex of her life a short while ago, and now the man who’d revved her body might have been a plant. He’d said he didn’t know her mother. A lie? Dare she believe him after all the other stupid stunts her family had pulled since she’d moved out?
He had looked shocked when she’d given them her name. Then again, if was being paid, he’d probably do whatever he needed to keep up the charade.
She needed a shower. And she wanted to see his face right before she slammed the door on it.
Except she wasn’t sure it was possible to forget the things Max had done to her. Her traitorous body for sure wanted a repeat. And she for damn sure wanted answers. Now.
Damn it all to hell.
The door clicked open and in he walked like some kind of god. Even though she was good and pissed at both Max and Dirk Clement, nothing could detract from Max’s looks or the way he made her heart race at the mere sight of him. It had been that way since she’d first seen him at the bar.
He shut the door and she was damn glad to see an expression of resignation on his face. She hoped to hell this wasn’t going to be easy on him.
“Well?” she started, ready to get on with it.
He shrugged. “The patrols didn’t spot anything unusual.”
“Not what I’m talking about Maximillian Jensen.” Then it dawned on her. With all her stewing, she hadn’t put the names together earlier when the officer had recognized Max. “Jensen. As in…Kara Patterson-Jensen? You’re her son?”
“Yes,” he admitted, not looking the least bit sorry.
“So how did…?” So damn confused. And even more damning. They did run in the same circles, and Max was exactly the type of man her mother would hire.
To the Max Page 5