His To Keep (5 page)

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Authors: Stephanie Julian

Tags: #DeMarco Investigations#2

BOOK: His To Keep
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She kicked the drawer again.

“So. You need help or what?”

Annie gasped and spun so quickly, she nearly fell off the four-inch heels that made her long legs look even more unforgettable. Her red patent-leather pumps matched the silk suit that delineated every feminine curve on her beautiful body. Each article of clothing seemed to have one express purpose in life—to drive him crazy.

“Dominic!” she nearly shrieked but the alarm in her eyes quickly turned to anger. “You scared me. What are you still doing here?”

Yeah, what are you doing here, old man?

He stepped into the room, stopping at her desk. “I had work to finish, and I heard you cursing the furniture.”

A blush heated her fair skin but she didn’t lower her gaze.

“The drawer’s stuck. Forgive me if my language was a little rough for your delicate ears.”

He suppressed a smile at the ice in her tone. “Nothing I haven’t heard before. Not from your delicate mouth, though.”

“A gentleman wouldn’t have mentioned it.”

His grin resurfaced and he swore her eyes widened in surprise before she could control her reaction.

Damn it, now he wanted her to smile.

“How long have you known me, babe? I’m no gentleman.”

He expected a comeback and was actually kind of disappointed when she didn’t say anything. Instead she let her gaze drop to her desk for a second before she pointed at the cabinet. “Are you going to help me or not?”

Of course he was. But as soon as he was done, he’d have no reason to stay.

Was she that uncomfortable around him?

He’d been coming down hard on her lately. Maybe a little too hard. Maybe it’d be better if he just stayed the hell away from her.

Stifling a sigh, he closed his eyes for a second before he re-opened them.

And noticed the bare expanse of her desk. Only her monitor and a pristine desk pad sat on the polished surface. No pictures, no plants.

With a frown, he looked around the rest of the room, searching for something, anything in the room that was hers.

There was nothing. If she left tomorrow, she wouldn’t even need a box.

“Nic?”

He glanced up and caught her looking at him, concern in her eyes.

For the first time in a long time, he let himself wonder what it would be like to have this woman as his own. To be able to steal a kiss whenever he wanted, to curl around her warm body at night.

But this infatuation wasn’t only physical. If it had been, he’d have been able to do something about it.

No, his emotions were involved. So that meant no sex.

Stupid reasoning, but necessary. He wanted her so much he found himself grinding his teeth because of it. He couldn’t love her and leave her because he wouldn’t be able to leave her.

And she was seeing someone.

Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face, because she blinked. And drew back two inches. Even though she stood behind her desk and out of reach.

“No, nothing’s wrong.” He shook his head and sighed. “So, you need me or not?”

Maybe it was his words. Or maybe it was his tone of voice. But an expression he’d never seen on Annie’s face made his gut clench with lust.

She stepped back again and bumped against the file cabinet. “I…I can’t get the bottom drawer unstuck. I need a file for the Jenkins case. Mal needs something researched. I didn’t get to it today, and I knew I was going to be a little late tonight. We’re going to my mother’s for dinner. But Brad’s running late.” She dropped her gaze now. “I thought I’d do a little work.”

He froze, the mention of her current lover making him want to throw something.

Christ, he was an idiot.

Stepping around the desk, he dropped onto one knee, wincing as his knee cracked, and reached for the drawer. “So, what’s this dinner party for? Your mother buy a new painting she wants to show off?”

She huffed nearly silently. “No, I think she might be celebrating the fact that I’ve had a steady job for more than a month.”

He glanced up and she was closer than she’d been a few seconds ago. Close enough to touch, if he wanted to. Her slim legs, covered only to mid-thigh, filled his field of vision.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded.

She shook her head and looked out the front window. “Nothing. Nothing at all. Can you get that open for me, please?”

No way was he letting her off that easily. “How many jobs have you had in the past few years?”

Without meeting his gaze, she shrugged. “Maybe six.”

He’d known about her last job, as the office manager for a downtown lawyer. Her name had been splashed all over the front page of one of the daily rags after the scum lawyer who’d tried to rape Annie had claimed she’d come onto him.

He hadn’t been able to keep his mouth shut and had confronted Jason Carlson. He’d scared the guy pretty good and his father had finished the job with the man’s boss. But Nic had needed a trip out of the country to cool down afterward.

“Why?” He tried but couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice.

“Why what?” she asked, her gaze falling over his shoulder.

He stood so he could look into her eyes, instead of focusing on the hem of her skirt. And all that silky flesh. “Why so many jobs? You’re doing a good job here, I don’t understand—”

She shifted her bright green gaze to his, her eyes wide. “Then why are you always giving me such a hard time if I’m doing such a good job?”

Couldn’t keep your big mouth shut, could you?

Annie stared at him expectantly, and he couldn’t tell if she was going to hit him or smile at him. Yeah, he’d been giving her a hard time since the first day she started. Self-preservation, mainly. Teasing her had become second nature. He loved to see her eyes narrow and her mouth tighten in anger or outrage.

Then his gaze slid down her body, from her suddenly flushed face to her rapidly rising and falling breasts. She was a hell of a lot closer than he’d realized.

With a silent curse and a prayer for strength, he lowered back down on one knee, forcing himself to ignore the fact that if he turned his head to the left, his lips would land on her waist. Sudden, aching pressure gathered in his groin and he gripped the handle of the file drawer until his fingers hurt.

“I don’t mean to give you hard time.” He tugged at the drawer with enough forced to make the entire unit shudder. “So, this guy, he’s picking you up here?”

There, that should distract her. Let her talk about her new boyfriend. Now he felt like he could rip off the front of the file cabinet.

“Nic?” Her voice was soft, the hand she placed on his shoulder warm, causing him to freeze. “Do you think I’m doing a good job?”

Ah, Christ. Why didn’t she just hang him from his fingernails somewhere in the desert covered in honey so the fire ants could find him? Why did she have to go all soft and sweet on him?

He curled his fingers around the handle again and ripped the drawer open, the motion causing her hand to drop. The file cabinet nearly tipped, but he steadied it with one hand while he took a deep breath to steady himself.

“You’re doing fine, Annie.” He stood, looking down into her wide eyes. “You’re doing better than fine. I’ve just been…busy the past couple of weeks. And on edge. I don’t mean to take it out on you.”

Asshole. Yes, you have. You’ve lived to give her a hard time lately.

Yeah, but she didn’t have to know that.

She stared at him, head cocked to one side, as if she was seeing him for the first time. Had he been that hard on her?

Then she nodded once. And smiled. So damn sweet.

Heat fell on him like a thirty-ton truck, flattening his lungs and making him feel like he’d just run ten miles in under thirty minutes.

She hadn’t smiled at him like that since she was nineteen. Didn’t she know that smile was a lethal weapon?

Of course she knew. She had to.

He swallowed hard, forcing down the gut-crunching desire to kiss her. His hands fisted at his sides as totally unbidden images flooded his mind. Kissing her until she went limp against him, carrying her up to his apartment and laying her on the bed that had been awfully lonely lately. Since she’d started here.

“Nic?”

He forced a hand through his hair, pushing the length behind his ear. “Yeah?” He released the word with a sigh.

“Thank you.”

He nodded slowly. “You’re welcome.”

Kiss her. Really kiss her. Just one taste. Do it.

Her gaze held him frozen in place. Then she moved closer—and knelt down to dig through the files in the now-open drawer.

Feeling like he’d dodged a bullet—or missed a great opportunity—he turned and walked out of the room.

 

 

Chapter Three

 

Annie released the breath she’d been holding since he’d said, “You’re welcome.”

For a few seconds there, she’d been sure he was going to kiss her. She’d wanted him to, desperately. He had to have seen her willingness in her eyes.

Obviously not.

Would she never learn?

“You idiot,” she muttered under her breath, ripping the file out of the cursed drawer. She needed to expend the energy that made her feel like she could soar through the air.

All because Nic had told her she was doing a good job.

“You’re pathetic.” She stood and turned back to her desk.

And came face to face with Nic.

She would have screamed if it’d been anyone else. As it was, she jumped nearly an inch off the ground.

Nic had come back to her office without a sound while she’d had her back to the door.

He didn’t say anything, but the look on his face told a great story. One she wanted desperately to hear. She blindly tried to set the file on the desk. She couldn’t have cared less when she heard it slide to the floor with a soft thwap. The intensity in his eyes held her in thrall.

She opened her mouth to say his name, to give her approval, thinking he needed to hear her say it.

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.

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