His To Keep

by Stephanie Julian

  He didn’t. One second, she stood several feet away from him. The next, he had his arms wrapped around her and was fitting her against his body as he dropped his mouth hard onto hers.

  Then she stopped thinking.

  He took her lips as if he wanted to devour her. As if he was starved for her. But he didn’t ravage. He coaxed her into submission.

  She didn’t need all that much coaxing. The simple taste of him, hot and dark, was like forbidden alcohol to a teenager. But much more potent.

  Then there were his hands. She could feel each individual finger like a brand, searing her skin through her suit. He held her firmly—one arm wrapped around her upper back, fingers anchored on her shoulder; the other around her waist, fingers splayed on her hip.

  While his hands didn’t move, his lips did. They caressed hers, his tongue tracing along the seam of her mouth until she opened her mouth to let him in. His tongue slid like rough silk over hers, causing her heart to stampede like a runaway horse.

  She raised her hands to hold onto him—and he released her.

  One second, he held her tight against him, exactly where she’d wanted to be since forever. The next, he stood across the room with his back to her. Just as he had when she was nineteen and he’d broken her heart.

  She heard him mutter something under his breath—something that sounded like, “Son of a bitch.” But she couldn’t be sure because her heart beat so loudly, she could barely hear over it.

  She focused on his rigid back, forced herself to regain some semblance of control.

  He’d kissed her, yes, but he obviously wasn’t pleased he’d done it.

  And that hurt.

  Okay, don’t think about that. Get angry. Tell him to go to hell. Tell him you don’t want him to touch you again.

  Bald-faced lies, but she had to say something. She just couldn’t stand here and let him do this to—

  “I’m sorry.”

  His husky words stopped her train of thought faster than his kiss had.

  “Sorry?” Sorry, he hadn’t asked her permission? Sorry he’d kissed her?

  Damn it, he better not be sorry about that. Her chin lifted at the same time he turned back to face her, so the look on her face probably didn’t give him much reason to think he was going to be forgiven.

  Still, he didn’t go cold on her. Instead, his expression took on that reserved look he saved for the few seedy-looking clients who made their way through the doors at DeMarcos. That look gave nothing away.

  Two could play that game. She hadn’t gained a reputation for being an icy bitch for nothing.

  “Sorry for what?” The bite in her tone was unavoidable.

  “I’m sorry I scared you.”

  She opened her mouth to throw his apology back in his face—until his words sunk in. Scared her? What was he—

  She glanced down and saw her hands shake. So much so they continued to shake even when she’d clenched them in front of her. Her entire body trembled. Why hadn’t she noticed? How could she have missed it?

  “Are you okay?” His tone softened as he spoke, so much so that she heard his concern. Concern for her.

  She didn’t know what to say.

  Finally, she forced words out of lips still tingling from his kiss. “I’m fine.” Then, with all her strength, she lifted her trembling arm to look at her watch. “I have to get going. I need to get home.”

  “I thought you were going to your mother’s?”

  Oh, God. Brad would be here to pick her up any minute. Blond Brad with his perfectly tailored suits and his Infiniti. He’d come in here, sweep the place with his discerning eye and find it lacking. He’d never said anything outright, but she knew he wondered why she worked at all. One look at her staring at Nic the way she was right now, and he’d know.

  Know she wanted the man standing in front of her. Wanted him to take her in his strong arms and carry her upstairs to his apartment and—

  Someone knocked on the door.

  She drew in a sharp breath and blinked, more startled than she should have been. Then she closed her eyes tightly to refocus.

  She opened them and realized Nic now stood next to her. They weren’t touching, but she could feel his presence like a physical caress against her skin.

  “Annie, are you okay?”

  She shivered at his tone. He never called her Annie. Such a tiny detail, but it meant so much. And his rough voice made her shiver deep inside. She couldn’t meet his gaze, but she nodded, just a short bob of her head.

  “I’m fine.” Neither of them moved, but the door was locked so someone had to let Brad in. She felt like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.

  Brad knocked again and the spell broke. Her gaze lifted to settle on Nic’s face, all hard planes and angles, his mouth drawn tight. With regret?

  He moved away, into the hall. She heard him open the front door and greet Brad quietly, calmly.

  Move, damn it. Do something. Don’t just stand here like you’ve been paralyzed.

  She took a deep breath, held it for a ten-count then blew it out. With a force of will that surprised her, she took her overcoat from the rack next to the door and pulled it around her shoulders. She remembered at the last second to pick up her purse. Then she walked to the front door, where the man who’d just kissed her senseless was making small talk with the man her mother hoped she’d marry.

  “Hello, Brad.” Her voice was steady, thank God, but she couldn’t raise a smile. Instead, she forced herself to turn to Nic and say, “Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  His gaze pinned her in place, making her feel as if she was blistering in the sun. Her skin remembered his touch. Her lips ached for his. She wanted to throw herself at him and demand he kiss her again.

  Nic shook his head. “No, you won’t. I’ll see you Monday. Then I may have to go out of town.”

  That’s right. It was Friday. They wouldn’t be able to talk until Monday. She felt cheated…and relieved.

  She nodded. “I’ll see you then. Have a good weekend, Nic.”

  She walked out the door, Brad’s fingers burning against her back.

  *

  At seven, Nic parked his truck in the lot of DeMarco Garage on Passayunk Avenue and checked to make sure everything was okay—no broken windows, bay doors closed tight, no suspicious types hanging around.

  He hadn’t seen Toni and Mags all week. Since he was headed to his cousin Vinnie’s house for poker night, he decided to drop in at Mags’ first. Maybe the scolding he was likely to get from Toni would take his mind off of kissing Annie.

  Why the hell had he done it? He must’ve been nuts. Temporary insanity. Yeah, temporary for the past eight years.

  With a sigh, he knocked on the door of the neighboring brick townhouse. Toni answered in a matter of seconds.

  “Hey, Nic.” Her offhand tone belied the smile on her face. Since she’d turned twelve a few months ago, hugs had been few and far between. He tugged on the dark brown braid hanging over her shoulder, surprised by the denim skirt and pretty white top she wore.

  “Hey, Toni. How’s it going?” He moved inside as she shut the door.

  She shrugged, a carbon copy of her mother’s “I’m fine, everything’s fine” shrug.

  So, something had to be up.

  “Got somewhere to go tonight?” He glanced from the comfortable living room straight through the dining room and the kitchen. He didn’t see Mags.

  Toni gave him that shrug again. “Over to the church. There’s some dance or something Mom said I had to go to.”

  “I did not say you had to go, Antonia. I said you could go. There’s a difference.”

  Nic shifted his gaze to the stairway at the rear of the dining room, where Mags sat on the bottom step, looking at him with the most beautiful brown eyes he’d ever seen. He’d never wondered why his cousin Nino had fallen so hard for her.

  “Hey, Nic.” Mags’ voice was thick with south Philly. “You headed over to Vinnie’s?”r />
  He nodded. “Hate to miss Sophie’s spread.”

  That brought out her smile. God, the woman was gorgeous with her long dark hair and perfect body. He couldn’t believe she’d never remarried. She attracted men like flies. He knew because he’d been one of those pests before she’d married Nino. But Mags had only ever had eyes for his cousin.

  A familiar knife twisted in his chest. “You letting the kid go to a dance? Does she even know how to dance?”

  Mags’ eyes flashed with humor. “I don’t think you can call what they do dancing, can you? Looks like some pagan ritual to me.”

  Toni huffed but came close enough to Nic’s side that he could put his arm around her if he thought she wouldn’t shy away. “Hey, at least I get out there. You won’t even try. At Uncle Bob’s wedding, four guys must’ve asked you to dance, but you turned them all down.”

  “Yeah, well, you got your dancing feet from your father.” Mags spoke without a trace of melancholy. “Mine are both left feet.”

  Someone knocked on the door. Toni turned and yelled, “Just a minute,” then ran to kiss her mom goodbye. On her way back through the living room, she stopped to give Nic a tight squeeze around the waist. He embraced her before she could get away, not releasing her until she looking up at him. “Have a good time, kiddo. But not too good.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “I got the speech a million times. Night, Nic.”

  He watched until the door closed behind her then turned back to Mags, who came off the steps and sank into the couch with a groan.

  “God, Nic, she’s gonna be a teenager in less than a year. Can you believe it?”

  He fell into the recliner opposite the couch. “Not really.” He chuckled. “A dance at the church, huh? How’d you get her to go? And dressed like a girl, too?”

  Mags flashed him a smile. “She asked me. Said she liked to dance. She’s more like her father every day.”

  He let the knife sink a little deeper. “Yeah, Nino would’ve loved that. He could never get enough of it, even though he looked like a live chicken on a hot grill when he danced.”

  Mags’ smile turned bittersweet. “We used to have a great time, didn’t we?”

  Nic didn’t know if he should answer that question. Yeah, he and Nino and Mags had had a lot of great times before Nino had been killed. And Nic would never forgive himself for the fact that Nino wasn’t here to raise his daughter. And love his wife.

  “So, you comin’ over tomorrow to work on the bike?” Mags deliberately changed the subject, her dark eyes knowing. “Toni’s been houndin’ me all week.”

  “Yeah. Tell her around noon or so.” He got up to leave, knowing Mags didn’t want to talk about Nino. “I’ll see you then.”

  Leaving his car at the garage, he walked the couple of blocks to Vinnie’s house.

  His dad had grown up in this neighborhood, his mom only a couple of blocks away. Even so, they hadn’t known each other as kids. Their first meeting had taken place on a Paris side street where Frank, newly minted Army Intel, had decided that Grace, a CIA shadow operative, was a threat to national security.

  The only threat Grace had been was to his single status.

  After more than twenty years of marriage, they’d decided to settle in Philadelphia, close to both their families. Janey had been about to start junior high school. Jimmy had been at MIT and Nic had been a Ranger.

  Correction. He and Nino had been Rangers. They’d gone to Fort Benning together: AIT, Airborne, RIP, Jungle school. They’d been best friends, inseparable.

  Until—

  Damn. He stopped, right in the middle of the sidewalk. He’d passed Vinnie’s. Taking a deep breath to clear his head, he walked back to the house and rang the doorbell.

  He hoped Vinnie had at least a case in the fridge tonight. He needed a beer tranquilizer.

  Chapter Four

  “No, I don’t need time to think about it.” Annie turned to face Brad. “I’m sorry, but I think it’s best we end this now.”

  Brad couldn’t hide his surprise. Or his anger. And that, more than anything, told her she’d made the right decision.

  Brad had been in hog heaven tonight and now he looked like she’d taken away his favorite toy. As a junior partner in a downtown firm, the chance to mingle with some of the most-respected and well-known lawyers and judges in Philadelphia was a great opportunity for him.

  And Annie had realized, while sitting with the women after dinner, he’d been using her as a ticket to her mother’s monthly Friday night dinners, populated with the movers and shakers of Philadelphia and the Main Line.

  Had she really become so disconnected lately that she hadn’t seen what Brad was doing? Using her only to forward his career?

  Or had Nic’s kiss illuminated what was missing in her relationship with Brad?

  “Andrea, I don’t understand.” Brad’s voice sounded choked. “I thought we had a lot going for us.”

  With one hand tightening on the door, Annie forced back a sigh. She’d really hoped this wouldn’t turn into a scene. But it looked like it was headed that way.

  “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I just don’t think we’re right for each other. You’re a nice man, Brad, but we would never—”

  “Is there someone else?” There was a hard edge to his tone now, one that raised the hair on her neck. It smacked of possession. She’d heard that tone in another man’s voice, and she refused to let anyone hurt her like that again.

  She straightened, sliding her hand into the hidden pocket on her purse where she kept her Mace. “No, there’s no one else.”

  At least, no one I’ll admit to.

  Brad was stumped. Annie could see it in his eyes. Then he appeared to come to a conclusion. “Andrea, you must know how I feel about you.”

  Actually, she did, but she wasn’t about to tell him she knew he was only using her. Polite young women didn’t do that. Of course, polite young women didn’t allow men to kiss them without an explanation. Like Nic had.

  Damn, this was all Nic’s fault.

  “You must know,” he continued, “I planned on spending the rest of my life with you.”

  Yeah, living off my trust fund and cashing in on my family name.

  She dismantled her grimace in mid-formation.

  “I don’t think that would be the best thing for either of us.” She dredged up a bittersweet smile. “I think it’s smart to end it now, before either one of us gets emotionally involved.”

  She could see that last dig find its mark. He gave her one last searching glance before nodding curtly and turning on his heel.

  She watched him walk away, looking like he’d had a stick shoved straight up his spine.

  *

  This was becoming a bad habit, Nic realized as he sat outside Annie’s house, waiting for her to get home.

  He really needed to find a hobby.

  He’d lost every hand of poker tonight, alerting his cousins to the fact that something was up. They didn’t pry but he’d called it a night at ten-thirty, pleading exhaustion.

  He hadn’t gone home, though. He wouldn’t have been able to fall asleep. He would have lain there, thinking about Annie, about that kiss. Which is what he’d been doing all night, anyway.

  Out of habit, he swept the street, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing.

  But his inner radar blipped. Someone was watching him. He could feel it. Maybe it was a homeowner. He’d been sitting here for at least a half hour. He twisted his wrist to read his digital watch—ten o’clock.

  Or maybe it was his caller.

  All day, he’d racked his brain for suspects, but the call hadn’t given him much to go on. And that’s what had him worked up.

  Give him any kind of machinery and he could make it work, no matter what the problem. Give him a straightforward kidnapping, a stalking—hell, even a good old-fashioned robbery and he could nail the guy.

  Give him an indistinct threat and it blew his concentration a
ll to hell. Especially if the threat was against his loved ones.

  Nic was smart enough to know his own failings. He didn’t have his mother’s ability to extrapolate theories from whispered innuendos or his brother’s genius. He didn’t have his sister’s intuitive ability to read people.

  Luckily, he took after his father—a bulldog who sank his teeth into a problem until he shook out the answers.

  Whoever dared threaten the DeMarcos was in for a shitload of trouble.

  But this was Nic’s problem and he would solve it.

  A car passed and stopped at the curb in front of Annie’s house. Annie and the guy he’d met earlier tonight got out of the car. Nic forced himself not to jump out of the Jeep and rip the guy’s arm away from her shoulders.

  When they stopped at the door, Nic knew he should leave now. He did not want to watch that guy walk into her home. And not come back out.

  Biceps tensed and his hands curled into fists around the steering wheel.

  God damn, he didn’t need this.

  But he couldn’t look away.

  When Annie turned to face the guy, Nic forced himself to watch, to torture himself for the kiss he’d stolen earlier.

  Then relief stole over him like the rush of adrenaline when Annie and Brad remained on the porch. Talking.

  Even from here, Nic could tell it wasn’t a good talk. They both stood stiff and unmoving. Then Brad stalked back to his car and peeled away in his silver Infiniti, leaving Annie to sag against the front door of her townhouse.

  The next thing he knew he was at the bottom of the few steps that led to her small porch.

  “Annie.”

  A tight ball of anticipation curled in his gut when she gasped and turned at the sound of his voice.

  Eyes wide, she had the bottle of Mace in her hand, ready to shoot.

  “Oh, God. Dominic. What are you doing here?”

  Good question.

  “You okay?”

  She dropped her gaze and lowered the Mace. “I’m fine.”

  But he could tell she wasn’t.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Maybe she was right to ignore that kiss. Annie didn’t want him and hadn’t for some time. He was kidding himself if he thought her response to his kiss meant something. He should just turn around and—