“I think I can afford to buy you a cup of coffee.”
“Really? So you choose to walk the streets of LA naked in the middle of the night?”
Now it was him, shifting in his shoes, or rather, hospital slippers. He kept his smile in place despite his state of undress. “Maybe I can explain my, er, situation over eggs benedict.”
She was tempted, even with him dressed in a hospital issue gown open in the back, she was tempted. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not? You said yourself I’m good looking, and I know you’re curious about why I ended up here.”
Janet slid the paperwork she held in front of him and handed him her pen. “Even if I wanted to, I make it a rule not to date my patients.”
“Humm...” He took the paper and signed his name, then pushed it in her direction. “I’m no longer your patient.”
Janet couldn’t stop the giggle that erupted. “Listen...” She picked up the paper and noted his name. “Mr. Ritter. I’m flattered, really I am, but I don’t think this would be a good idea.”
“I suggested breakfast, not marriage.”
“You’re wearing a hospital gown and a smile.”
“I’ll change. We can drop by my house so I can get my wallet.”
Janet narrowed her eyes. “Is this some perverse way to get a free ride home?”
“I’ll pay for gas.” His eyes locked with hers sending a chill up her spine.
“Hey Janet,” a voice called from beyond the closed curtain.
“I’ve got to go. Day shift needs report.” But her feet didn’t move. Instead, she stared at him, knowing somehow she would give in to his request, and if nothing else give him a ride home.
Something she had never done before.
“I’ll meet you outside, by your car.”
On a sigh she said, “Yeah, okay.” Janet turned away. “How do you know what I drive?”
“I don’t, but I’ll figure it out.”
Chapter Two
This was crazy. No, it was stupid. Even attractive men can be serial killers.
Janet changed into a simple pair of jeans and loose knit top. She ran a brush through her hair and slapped on some lip-gloss. Before leaving the women’s locker room, she checked her purse twice, assuring herself the mace sat at the bottom of her bag.
At the last minute, she dialed her home phone number and left a message. Just in case she ended up dead, the police would have an idea of who did it. “I’m leaving work to take Max Ritter, a patient from last night’s shift, home. I’ve got to be crazy.” She tossed the phone into her purse.
“Oh, God,” she groaned. This really is stupid.
She walked to the parking lot slower than normal. Sure enough, Mr. Naked Man leaned against her car. This time dressed in scrubs, slippers on his feet.
“I started to think you changed your mind.”
“I should.” Janet clicked her alarm key and unlocked the doors of the car. “Get in before I do.”
Tucked behind the steering wheel, Janet fastened her seatbelt. “Where do you live?”
He rambled off a few directions and a street address. Janet put the car in gear and left the parking lot.
“Nice car.”
“I like it,” she said, trying her best not to look at him.
“I didn’t see you behind the wheel of a ’Vette. You seemed to be more like a sub-compact kind of girl.”
“What’s that suppose to mean?” She dared a glance. His smug expression turned to one of innocence.
Max put his hands in the air. “It wasn’t meant as an insult.”
Janet rounded the corner a little fast; Max held the side of the door in an obvious attempt at avoiding injury. Sub-compact my foot! She smiled. “I like fast cars. My dad used to race when I was a kid. It’s in my blood, so-to-speak.”
“Humm... I’ll bet you work on it yourself.”
Janet glanced over at him again, not sure if he was mocking her. “As a matter of fact--”
“I would think after all the experience you must have taking care of accident victims, you would drive something safer,” he interrupted.
“Stupid drivers and unkempt cars get in accidents. Seldom is it solely the car’s fault. Besides, just because it will go fast, doesn’t mean I drive it fast.” She glanced down, noticed the speedometer inch toward 85 MPH, then eased up on the gas. “Tell me, Mr. Ritter.”
“Max.”
“Okay, Max. If you didn’t think I drove a Corvette, then how did you know which car was mine?”
“I have a keen sense of smell.”
Janet peered over the brim of her sunglasses. “You could smell my car on me?”
“No, I could smell you on the car.”
He was serious. He didn’t even cut a smile with his explanation. “Why do I find that hard to believe?”
Max leaned over the center console and took a deep breath through his nose. “The last thing you ate in here was a hamburger.”
“Me and half of America.”
Undaunted by her sarcasm, he went on. “Double double from In and Out without onions, fries and a diet coke.”
She knew her mouth was open, his laugh made her close it.
“How do you keep your figure eating like that? I thought nurses were all health freaks.”
“Fast metabolism,” she explained still put back by his observation.
“This is my exit.” Max pointed at the sign.
Janet let him lead her up and into the hills above Hollywood. Soon the houses started to spread out and the driveways grew longer. He guided her to a gate where hedges kept anyone from the street from seeing in.
“This is your house?”
“No, this is my gate.”
Janet stopped at the voice box and rolled down her window. “There are no numbers.”
“No, there isn’t.” Max leaned over her body, his face mere inches from hers. “Excuse me.” He reached out and pressed one of the buttons on the call box. No one answered. Instead, a small door opened and a laser type camera emerged.
She sat back and watched the laser scan his eye. Done, a British voice came over the intercom. “Welcome home, Mr. Ritter.”
Janet gawked at him. How could she not? He was so damn close. Before Max settled back into the passenger seat he nudged closer and deliberately sniffed her hair. His eyes closed briefly as if savoring the smell.
She squeezed her legs together in an attempt to block out the tingling between her thighs.
A metallic hum of the automatic gate opening broke the spell. “Shall we?” she asked.
****
She knew he wasn’t homeless, but this was ridiculous. He had a butler. Who has a butler? His house was huge! Thirty-foot ceilings, massive archways and marble columns made up the entryway and hall. Artwork the size of her car covered the immense walls of what had to be a formal living room.
James, the butler, helped her out of her sweater and offered her coffee when Max went off to get dressed. She accepted the coffee, but instead of sitting to drink it, she wandered around Mr. Naked Man’s home.
Could this really be his house? If it was, then why the hell was he naked on the streets if he lived like this?
Was he into drugs? Suddenly nervous, Janet put her coffee cup down. She noticed cameras, or what she knew were cameras, hidden by small black disks on the walls and ceiling. Was he spying on her now?
****
Max glanced over at the bank of monitors on the wall. He watched her pace his home. Her hands skimmed over several pricy pieces of art. He could see her breath quicken.
He slipped into a casual sweater, but decided against a shave. From the expression on Miss O’Brien’s face, she was ready to bolt. He ran a hand through his hair and grabbed the remote controlling the surveillance equipment. After pressing a button, the wall of monitors disappeared.
He yanked his keys off the dresser and shoved his wallet in his pocket before heading out the door.
“You ready?” He bounced down
the stairs. She had already headed for the door.
“Why is it locked?” She tossed an accusing look his way.
“It’s locked?”
“Yeah, it is.” She tugged on the door.
Max strode over to the control panel by its side and started punching buttons. “I have a new security system. Damn things too complicated.”
She stood back, her trembling hand slipped into her purse. “New security system?” she asked.
“Yeah, someone robbed me a few months ago, my insurance agency suggested this.” He continued with the buttons he knew weren’t connected with the lock on the door. “Shit,” he exclaimed when he tested the door himself. “James?” he hollered.
“Sir?”
“Can you get me the phone, the door’s jammed again.”
The butler returned moments later, a cordless in his hand. Max smiled down at Janet who seemed to ease up. He dialed his brother’s number.
“Holy shit, Max is that you?”
“Hey Rich, the door is locking itself again.”
Richard, knowing Max only called him Rich when he wasn’t at liberty to talk candidly, picked up on his cue and starting to ask yes and no questions. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I tried that.” Max rolled his eyes in Janet’s direction.
“What the hell happened last night?”
“If I could tell you that, I wouldn’t be standing here instead of taking a pretty lady out for breakfast.”
Richard started to laugh. “Man you work fast. Who is she?”
“Ah huh.”
“Oops, all right I get it, you can’t talk. Did you find Gorman?”
“Yes.”
“Did he see you?”
“I think so.”
“Shit, did you save the victim?”
Max noticed Janet check her watch. “Kind of, listen I really need to get this door working properly. I want you to get over here and fix it. I can’t be locked in my own house.”
“All right I’m on my way. How long will you be gone?”
“A couple of hours? That’s not good enough, I need to leave now.” Max punched another series of numbers and a green light went on. He turned the knob and opened the door. “Okay, that worked, but I still want you to get over here and fix this damn thing.”
Max hung up, handed the phone over to James and lifted his arm to Janet. “Ready?”
****
They drove his car, one of them anyway. It seemed Janet wasn’t the only one who liked fast cars. She actually balked at his suggestion that he drive until he opened the garage door and showed her the Ferrari.
Something about the rumble of the engine churned up her blood. She walked over to it and caressed the fiberglass as if it were the skin of a lover. “Nice.”
“I’m glad you approve.”
She eased into the passenger seat and spread her hands on the Italian leather. “So where are you taking me?”
“Are you up for a drive?” He turned the key in the ignition, the engine roared to life. The purr was positively erotic.
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
He pulled out of his driveway and headed west.
****
Traffic was light, and the road up the coast clear. Max watched her out of the corner of his eye. The grin she wore spoke volumes on how she reacted to the drive.
It wasn’t often he used his Ferrari to turn a woman’s head, but he knew it was the weapon of choice for this one. He had to keep her close or Gorman would have her for dinner. At least that’s what he told himself. The more time he spent with her, however, the more intrigued he became.
The scent she gave off drove him mad. Earlier when he leaned into her to open his gate, he nearly lost it. He could hardly wait to see how she would taste.
He maneuvered around the curve a little fast, as she had earlier. He watched her cross her legs and wondered if her body hummed. He felt himself stiffen with the thought. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back. She moved her hips in the seat.
Oh, yeah... she hummed.
“What made you become a nurse?” Max needed a distraction. Concentrating on whether or not her panties were wet wasn’t cooling his libido.
“Job security.”
“You’re kidding? You didn’t have a Florence Nightingale complex?”
“Sorry to burst your bubble.” She laughed but kept her eyes shut. “Not every nurse or doctor is one because of their overwhelming need to save the world. Some of us have bills to pay.”
“You’re blowing my illusions out of the water, first the car, now this.”
She opened one eye, glanced his way, and then shut it. “Considering you were found naked and unconscious, I wouldn’t cast stones.”
Splashing a grin, Max agreed. “You have a point.”
The conversation stopped for a few minutes. The soothing roar of the engine was like the strings of a well-played violin. Surf pounded on the rocks of the shore along side them. Janet appeared to sink deeper into the leather seat and said, “Don’t think I’m not going to ask.”
“Ask what?”
“Why the medics found you naked.”
She wasn’t asking now, he noticed. She simply said she wasn’t going to let him off the hook. He didn’t worry, he had a thousand excuses. Although, being a nurse she could probably toss away nine hundred and eighty of them.
Saying nothing more, Max continued the drive.
Chapter Three
They arrived at an old Victorian home that someone had the good sense to convert into a restaurant years before. The warm and cozy atmosphere felt like a bed and breakfast. Seawater pounded over the rocks sending a cascade of white foam in its wake. A transom window held open by a spring filtered cool air into the room which added sound to the breathtaking views.
Janet slipped into the booth and studied the menu. She had so many questions, but didn’t really want to ask them. Admittedly, she was afraid of the answers.
Other than the fact she nicknamed Max, Mr. Naked Man, Janet could find nothing wrong with him.
Aside from the obvious physical attraction, he was polite, well-mannered and somewhat chivalrous. Janet couldn’t remember the last time someone she dated opened the door for her and he had done so twice in less than an hour. Oh, yeah, she thought. Don’t forget the rich part. He would have to be to drive a three-hundred-thousand dollar car.
That was where she kept hanging up. Mr. Naked Man, lots of money, no explanation... Damn. Who is he?
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
She put the menu down and folded her hands on the table. “You.”
He nodded and stared her in the eye. “I don’t suppose I can put off my explanations until we get to know each other better?”
“I’m here against my better judgment, getting to know me better is completely dependent on this conversation.”
He flashed his million-dollar smile. “What if I told you I have seizures?”
“Beep... try again, seizures that put patients out as long as you were, wake up disoriented and confused.”
“But...”
“Not to mention, the DMV would have taken your license away, and I sincerely doubt you would drive that machine out there.” She waved toward the parking lot. “And risk smashing it to pieces.”
His smile wavered. “I have to admit, I have a small drug habit.”
“Beep... I had the medics give you a drug, which reverses the effects of almost everything out there. And I glanced at your tox screen. Negative. Not even alcohol.”
The waiter made an appearance.
After ordering, Janet stirred cream into her coffee, and continued. “Well?” she asked when they were alone again.
“I hit my head?” It was a question.
“Cat Scan was negative.”
“Narcolepsy?”
“Falling asleep is not the same as being unconscious. I have to admit though, you’re getting better.”
“Sleep walking!�
�
Janet laughed, the thought of a man walking from his home to the inner city naked flashed in her mind. “That doesn’t even deserve a comment.”
Max leaned forward and captured her hand. His fingers traced the back of it sending a tingle up her arm. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”
“No, and you’re changing the subject.” Janet tried to ignore her body’s signals. The fast beat of her heart made her head dizzy. What had she asked him?
“All right, Miss O’Brien, if you really must know, I work for the FBI. Last night I was working undercover.”
Janet shook her head and removed her hand from his. “You really aren’t going to tell me, are you?”
“I really don’t think you’d believe me.”
Their breakfast arrived, and Max dug in. Although hungry, Janet stared at him instead of eating. “Are you into something illegal?”
He wiped his mouth and leveled his sober eyes to her. “No.”
It was the first honest answer she’d heard. Why she believed him she would question later, but for now, it was enough. He had his secrets, but hell... who didn’t? “Fine, for now.”
His dimples peeked through, his eyebrows raised. “Do you want to drive back when we’re done?”
Janet felt her mouth gape again. “You’re kidding?”
“I’ll take that as a no.”
“Oh no you won’t.” She snatched the keys he had laid on the table and stashed them in her purse. “You don’t mind if we take the long way do you?”
Max laughed and stuffed a forkful of eggs in his mouth.
****
With sunglasses shading her eyes, Max couldn’t read her thoughts. But if he had to guess, she was just this side of ecstasy. She chose a mountain road where the grace of his sports car easily handled the winding path.
It amazed him how comfortable he was while she drove. If her father drove a racecar, then the man must have shown her everything he knew. Max hated to admit it, but she almost drove the car better than he did. Almost.
“I take it you like the car.”
Before the Moon Rises Page 2