In Hot Pursuit (16 page)

“What the—?” Anton's head swiveled toward her like a compass to due north.

In fact, for that split second, all eyes were on her in the center of the wine cellar. But for the first time, Lexi had no clue what to do, now that she had the limelight. She stood there with a broken half of a glass bottle, wine dripping down her arm and cuts on her fingers, waiting for guns to start firing.

They didn't.

Josh rose from the floor like Lazarus from the dead, a welt the size of Texas on his eye and a glower on his face unlike any she'd ever seen before.

In the space of two seconds, he raised both his arms and clotheslined the two gun-wielding smugglers, falling on top of them like an avalanche.

Two guns went flying in separate directions on the floor.

Out of Lexi's peripheral vision, she noticed Simone scurry to pick them up. But Lexi couldn't seem to take her main focus off Josh the Avenger wreaking havoc with the men who had scared the hell out of her.

Why did the man carry a gun if he had fists that fast? Right hook and down went Anton. Left hook and down went Brad.

Ding, ding, ding.
End of round two.

The crooks were clearly down for the count, and Josh was the undisputed champ.

“Are you okay?” He turned to her, her warrior hero with the swollen eye, his glower fading into something that definitely resembled concern. Worry. Fear.

God, maybe even something more.

Before Lexi could pinpoint the look that made her heart palpitate, the entrance behind them filled with cops. Simone held the arched wooden door for the flood of men in blue led by Duke and Otis.

Lexi might have smiled at the tender way Otis lifted the guns out of Simone's hands, or the way the rookie cop scrounged a blanket to wrap around her shoulders. But she was too busy trying to figure out if she'd really seen something soft and warm in Josh's gray eyes a moment ago.

She squinted through the suddenly crowded room for a glimpse of Josh, but he was encircled by a wall of blue. His cop friends hauled Anton and Brad out of the cellar in handcuffs, making Lexi very grateful for those clever metal rings for the second time in her life.

Detectives were already searching the wine racks and exploring the casks and barrels for goods Anton might have smuggled.

She needed to see Josh. Wanted to touch him, make sure he was okay. But she'd lost her shoes somewhere along the way and shattered glass still covered the floor. She also felt lost, alone and utterly ignored, until a big shadow fell over her.

“Jesus, woman, are you okay?” Josh put his hands
on her shoulders, then tipped her chin up to look at him.

“I'm fine.” Relief, warmth flowed through her.

Gently, he lifted her wrist and extracted the broken wine bottle from her hand. She'd forgotten she was even holding it.

“I was never so scared as when I saw you running around here when those guys were all over me. Didn't you understand I needed you to stay hidden?” He set the remains of the bottle in an empty wine cradle behind her.

“How could I, when you were in trouble?” His swollen eye reminded her how close he'd come to really getting hurt. Badly. Permanently.

“How could you not, Lex? You might know everything there is to know about fashion, but you don't know the first thing about fending off lethal criminals.”

Incensed, she sent him a look that had made lesser men run for cover. “I know enough to flip you butt-backward over my shoulder, don't forget.”

He swiped a hand over his jaw, maybe in a fit of impatience, maybe to hide a smile. She couldn't be quite sure.

He shook his head. “You caught me off guard.”

“I caught them pretty off guard today, too.”

“I'll say. You scared the hell out of me, too, when you blasted that bottle into five million pieces.” His hands settled back on her arms, sliding up and down the sleeves of her jacket as if he were assuring himself she was really in one piece.

“I can cause quite a distraction when I want to.”

“Lady, you distract me all the time.” He cupped her chin in one hand, oblivious to the busy swarm of cop activity around them. “I probably don't want to know, but what did you think you were going to do with that broken bottle?”

She traced one finger along the scar on Josh's cheek, just below his black eye, trying really, really hard not to throw herself in his arms. “You might be able to fend off broken glass, but a lot of people wouldn't be able to.”

He halted her tentative touch with the vise of his hand. “We need to talk, Lex. But not here. Not now.” He scooped her off her feet and into his arms, carrying her over the shattered remains of the bottle through the cellar. “I need to find enough evidence to lock up Bertrand for a lifetime, and I can't do it with you standing there, making me want to think other things.”

“Wait, Josh.” She didn't need to be hauled around like a sack of potatoes, but then again, she rather liked the sensation of being tucked up against his chest.

Too bad he dumped her off with James, as her old teacher and friend was coming down to the cellar. “James will find you a cup of coffee until I finish up down here. You'll be more comfortable upstairs where you can't step on any broken glass.”

With that, he pivoted and rejoined the fracas of swarming New York police detectives at the crime scene.

Lexi's eyes burned. He was worried about broken glass? The oaf obviously had no clue he'd just deliv
ered a more painful blow than anything she'd experienced in the cellar with Anton.

He'd dismissed her from his world.

Again.

Her time as Sherlock Holmes had clearly come to an end, and Josh had little use for a limelight-seeking fashion critic. But no matter how many times she repeated “his loss” to herself, she couldn't help but think she'd been the one to lose something irreplaceable today.

J
OSH HAD NEVER
taken less pleasure from tying up a case.

The process of gathering evidence seemed interminable, but finally they'd secured a red cashmere sweater from Anton's closet that looked like it would match the fibers Lexi's dog had found at the arson scene. It was a man's sweater, not a woman's. But sure enough, the label read Valentino, just as Lexi had predicted, and there was a tear along the hem.

Smart woman.

Josh jogged up the stairs and through the Bertrand mansion, eager to find her, eager to beg her to be his.

He found the butler in the kitchen, picking up teacups and piling them in the sink.

Josh slowed his pace. “Where's Lexi?”

“Her cab just arrived. She's headed back to Manhattan.” James's stern look communicated to Josh how badly he'd screwed up by depositing her in the kitchen for the past hour and a half.

Shit.

Josh ran to catch her, stealing a glimpse of the bright yellow car out the window before he sprinted through the front door.

He shouted and waved, attracting Lexi's attention,
along with that of a bevy of reporters milling around the lawn.

The media thronged him, quickly cueing in to the presence of the lead detective on a late-breaking case. They stuffed microphones in his face, flashed camera bulbs in his eyes and shouted one question on top of another.

Welcome to the circus.

His first instinct was to plow through the press ranks and make a last-ditch effort with Lexi before she cruised out of his life forever. Talking to the media had never been his forte.

Then again, he'd never really given it a shot.

A camera bulb flashed in his face, in time with the lightbulb slowing going off in his head. A plan came to him with startling clarity—a way to show Lexi he was ready for a life with her.

Public or private.

 

L
EXI PAUSED
, waiting for Josh to snarl at the crowds, disperse them with one heartfelt glower from his bruised face.

Maybe in some recess of her mind she thought it would be easier to leave if she saw him send cameras flying and reporters scurrying. She told herself that once she had that proof that they could never mesh their worlds, she'd be able to slide inside the cab.

Oddly, there didn't seem to be a stampede. In fact, the reporters now moved out in a more organized circle, giving the man in their midst a little more space.

Curious, Lexi asked the cabdriver to wait, then slammed the door shut behind her. If anyone else
were in the center of that ring of news journalists, Lexi would assume the person was getting ready to give a press conference.

But this was Josh Winger, undercover man. No way would he be—

“I'd like to make a statement, if I may.” Josh's voice boomed over the lawn, broadcast via someone's microphone and a makeshift sound system the press had organized collectively.

Lexi edged closer to the circle, the cold fall grass freezing her bare toes on the lawn, but she couldn't seem to walk away from Josh's unusual public appearance.

Didn't he hate to be in the spotlight?

At first, he recapped the events of the day, ending with the news that the NYPD had cracked a smuggling ring and now possessed enough evidence to put its leaders behind bars for a very long time.

His delivery was smooth, his presence commanding. In fact, she could hardly take her eyes off him, much less think of walking back toward her cab.

How could he have remained behind the scenes for so long in his work when he was clearly an articulate public speaker and the perfect poster boy for the police department? If she saw this man on TV representing the strength of the NYPD, she'd sure as hell never commit a crime.

“And I'd like to give credit to Lexi Mansfield for helping the police catch these criminals,” Josh continued. “At great personal risk to herself, Ms. Mansfield helped us secure enough evidence that we believe will convict Anton Bertrand.”

Lexi wasn't sure, but she thought she might be blushing. Her cheeks heated at his public praise.

Just when she thought he would sew up his comments, he turned to look directly at her, where she stood at the back of the crowd.

“Also, I'd like to announce I'm leaving undercover work after I settle the fallout from this case.”

The crowd of reporters, who had been well mannered up until now, barraged him with questions, moving in on the circle of space he'd carved out for himself.

Lexi made an effort to close her mouth, which had gaped open in shock. How could Josh be anything but a cop? Especially now that he was meeting the press and taking on a bigger role. He'd be leading his own precinct in another couple of years at this rate.

The media's unanimous cry of “why?” echoed her own.

“I'm in the process of making professional plans I do not wish to reveal at this time.” Still, his eyes remained on Lexi, lingering for so long that members of the press corps began to turn around to look at her, too.

“But I can say,” Josh continued from his spot at center stage, “you'd better get ready to film the wildest courtship this town has ever seen. I'm out to win New York's prized fashion critic for my very own.”

A ripple of
ooh
s and
aah
s moved through the crowd.

Several cameras moved from Josh toward her. Camera bulbs flashed. Shutters clicked.

And Lexi would appear in tomorrow's paper looking like a wrung-out rag and utterly dumbfounded.

Shock robbed her of speech. Fear that this was all somehow a joke kept her from sprinting through the crowd to fling herself around the man she wanted more than anything.

Luckily, Josh had turned into Mr. Microphone and deftly directed everyone's attention back to him. “I might even offer up a reward to anybody who can help me figure out how to clinch a wedding date in less than six months. That's the end of my statement, ladies and gentlemen, and I'd appreciate it if you could respect that Ms. Mansfield and I have had a long and difficult day.”

Just like that, Josh had the crowd backing up, thanking him for his words and discreetly fading into the background.

She'd never seen a man more perfectly suited for life in the public eye, and she couldn't believe he might actually want to be a part of hers.

And then, he was there. “Come on.” Without prelude, he tugged her along the lawn, pulling her behind a row of cedar trees and into a small wooden playhouse Simone had used as a little girl. “I can't believe you didn't find yourself a pair of shoes.”

The wooden floor felt warm enough on her toes, and Lexi was thankful for the privacy the space afforded them amid the busy hubbub of the main house. Hope surged through her, tempered by wariness. She seated herself on the built-in table against one wall.

“Are you out of your mind?” She couldn't stall the question that burned in her brain as she stared out
over the child's dream house with its faded pink curtains and stenciled ponies on the walls.

“For what?” He sat down on the table beside her, planting his feet on the bench next to it. “Chasing New York's sexiest journalist?”

A little thrill sizzled through her at the look he shot her way, but she couldn't afford to get distracted by
that
right now. “That blow to the head is affecting you more than you realize, Winger. You love being an undercover man. Why would you ever do anything else?”

“It's a job that has a limited shelf life, and I've made enough headlines this summer to realize my time undercover is up. I need new challenges.”

“Like?”

“Like protecting you from all the trouble you get into in your line of work, for one thing. A woman like you attracts too much attention and more trouble than you can possibly handle.”

This was not exactly the sort of proposal she'd hoped for. She'd refused to get her hopes up, and for good reason.

“Now that Anton is going to jail,” she countered, “I don't have a thing to worry about. He was the one who set my apartment on fire, wasn't he?”

Josh nodded, fingering one of her curls where it lay on the shoulder of her jacket. “He wanted you to stop writing negative things about Simone's designs, because if her business went under, so did his smuggling operation. He was using her business as a cover for importing his stuff.” Josh smoothed the stray curl into
the rest of her hair. “Little did he know, he didn't stand a chance of reining in your opinions.”

She shrugged, unrepentant. “I have this great need to be heard.”

“And I have this great need to make sure you're safe while you're speaking your mind. So if it's all the same to you, while I figure out what area I want to concentrate on at the precinct, I'm also going to head up security for Lexi Mansfield.”

Security? What about the marriage thing he'd mentioned in front of ten different television cameras? Didn't the man have any clue she wanted to hear about that?

“Protecting me from the paparazzi and your stray weirdos is hardly challenge enough for a man of your skills.” He would be bored with her inside of two weeks. Maybe five, because she could keep him pretty entertained with just great sex for a while.

He laughed, a gesture that scrunched up the swollen skin around his eye and looked pretty painful to Lexi.

“Life with you could never be boring, Lexi. You're like a one-woman show. And when
you
get bored of
me,
then I'll move into police intervention work for at-risk teens like Brad and other kids who get roped into working for crooks just because they're poor and desperate.”

The idea of Josh saving would-be thugs from themselves just about stole her heart. Too bad she was already losing him to another, more worthy occupation, and she hadn't even had the benefit of his bodyguard skills yet. “You'd be great at that. You're like
a walking advertisement for how to be a tough guy and honorable at the same time.”

“I know who to go to if I need help getting a charitable endeavor off the ground, right?” He looked ready to jump up and take on the world, in spite of the bruised outline of a gun against his temple.

She smiled even as she shed a few tears inside. How could he save her, say he wanted to marry her, and then make plans to leave her all in the same day? “I've never met a cause I didn't like.”

“What about me?” He swiveled to face her on the small wooden table, taking her hands in his own.

“What about you?”

“Make me your cause, Lex, and rescue me from a life of anonymity.”

She sidled closer, wondering if they were getting back around to the marriage thing. “If that's your idea of a proposal, Josh Winger, I can tell you you've got your work cut out for you.”

His gaze narrowed, darkened, focused on her lips. “My idea of a proposal involves two rings, two handcuffs and a lifetime of sexy bondage.”

Her pulse kicked into overdrive. Hope reared its irrepressible head and put a lump in her throat. “Tiger, those words turn my head and rev my body, but they won't ever wrest a ‘yes' from my lips.”

“No?” He kissed her cheek, her jaw, the side of her lips. “Then, how's this?” He shifted her off her seat and onto his lap. When he had her cradled on his thighs, he found her left hand and circled her third finger with his hand.

“I love you, Lexi Mansfield, and I want to make
you my wife, my woman and my partner. I can't promise you anything fancy or that I'll be the most suave guy at your fund-raisers, but I can promise I'll always be there, by your side. And I promise I will always listen to you, and never, ever ignore you.”

The shell around her carefully guarded heart cracked and broke. She'd never felt so warm and gushy inside, so full of love she thought she'd explode with it.

This gorgeous, sexy, tough-as-steel guy wanted her.

“You love me?” She'd never been given such a gift.

“You and your blue toenails walk on water as far as I'm concerned.”

Lexi flung herself around him, squeezed him, kissed the uninjured side of his face. “I love you, Josh. Adore you. And if you think I'm waiting six months to claim you as my man, you're insane.”

He probably had to expend considerable effort to peel her off him, because she didn't ever want to let him go.

“You mean it?”

“
Gawd,
yes. I've loved you since that time we wrestled around on the carpet with all the lights on, but I was too scared to admit it, even to myself. Are you sure you're not going to mind a life in the spotlight?”

Even now, the sounds of relentless reporters creeping in the bushes outside the playhouse reached their ears.

“Not as long as I can spirit you away to the shad
ows every now and then, too.” He slid his hand up her thigh to the hem of her skirt, careful to keep her covered from the camera that suddenly appeared in a window across the playhouse from them.

Would he tell them to get lost? Break the camera for intruding?

Lexi feigned obliviousness, waiting to gauge his reaction. This was the downside to public life, but she wasn't about to give it up.

“What about your work?” she prodded, still not quite believing Josh was ready to leave his undercover days behind. “Will you still get to work with Duke, or will he be losing his partner if you do something else on the force?” She straightened his collar, smoothed his shirt where it had been ripped down the front.

“Duke's gaining a pseudo sister-in-law and now he doesn't have to break my legs for messing around with you, so don't you worry about him. Besides, if I can't always be out in the field, Duke can take Otis around and show him the ropes.” His hand molded over her thigh, down her knee and back up again, staunchly ignoring the intrusion of the camera.

Lexi shivered in response to his touch, his cool demeanor in light of their not-so-private moment. Life with this man was going to be so delicious. “Snowball is going to be so happy when I bring you home with me on a full-time basis.”