Rush (6 page)

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Authors: Beth Yarnall

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Military, #Mystery & Suspense, #suspense

BOOK: Rush
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“Where are they?” she asked, her voice sounding rusty and raw.

“At the window and the smoke detector.” He clenched his jaw, thinking about how violated she must feel.

“How… how long do you think they’ve been there?”

“I don’t know.”

She nodded and walked to her dresser. She turned back, looking at him over her shoulder. “Where do I… how do I…?” Her voice cracked at first, then grew stronger as the anger came to her. “How am I supposed to dress knowing someone’s watching me?”

“I’ll check the closet, but I don’t expect to find a camera there. You can take what you need and dress in there.”

She turned back to the dresser and began pulling things out of drawers. Lucas went to the closet and searched everywhere he could think someone would hide a camera. He didn’t find anything. He walked back into the bedroom and found Mi leaning over the dresser, her palms flat on the surface, supporting her weight. She’d stacked a few things on top, then seemed to have hit a wall. She breathed deeply in and out, her shoulders hunched. He could see just enough of her face in the mirror over the dresser to know she was fighting emotion. Since the moment he’d met her, he’d witnessed this slight warrior valiantly wage war on a whole barrage of feelings he couldn’t begin to imagine.

He came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She turned into him instantly, wrapping her arms around his middle, holding on tight. He tucked her into him, helpless to stop himself. He didn’t know what was or wasn’t going on between them. All he knew was that she needed him. And in that moment it was enough.

He held her until she’d gotten her fill and pulled out of the embrace. She gathered her things and headed for the closet. His arms felt strangely empty without her in them so he crossed them over his chest. While he waited, he examined the items on her dresser. There were the usual female things: a hairbrush, some hair pins, a tube of lip stuff, a pair of earrings and framed photo of Mi and Lucy on the set of
Pleasure at Home
. It was a casual pose of the two of them with their arms around each other and smiles as wide and open as the Texas sky. Their friendship was obvious in the way their heads were tipped together.

His let his gaze wander the room, seeking out more information on Mi from the things she surrounded herself with. He told himself it was part of his training and would probably be with him the rest of his life. Focusing on the smallest pieces of the puzzle helped him visualize the whole. This he was good at. If only he had applied this skill to his personal life, then Cal wouldn’t have had to be the one to tell him Vanessa was fucking around on him. In retrospect the signs had been there. He’d been an idiot to ignore them. He wouldn’t be that idiot again.

Which brought him back to Mi. If this Jay was so important, where was he? Why wasn’t he here taking care of her? And why if she needed Jay so much, did she turn to Lucas as if he was all she had in the world?

Forcing those thoughts aside for the time being, Lucas left a message for the detective in charge of Mi’s case and asked him to meet them at her house in the morning. The breaking and entering would have to be documented. Lucas hoped the cameras would lead them to whoever installed them. But he doubted it. The guy who had hooked them up was a pro. It wasn’t likely he’d leave a trail leading back to him.

When Mi came out of the closet, Lucas helped her pack her things. They barely spoke. Lucas waited until they climbed into his car to break the silence.

He shoved the key in the ignition and turned to her. “Who’s Jay?”

She flinched. He could see that much in the weak light that filtered into the truck from the streetlights.

“I heard you say his name just before I knocked on your door. Who is he, Mi?”

“You were eavesdropping on me?”

“Your door is as thin as paper.” He wasn’t going to defend himself or apologize. And he wasn’t going to ask her again. They’d sit in the truck all night until she gave him an answer.

“I didn’t say Jay, I said Jas for Jason, my brother.” Her response reverberated off the window where she’d fixed her attention.

In the dark interior of the truck, Lucas couldn’t be sure of the veracity of her answer, but something told him it wasn’t a lie. There’d been a note in the file about a brother named Jason. He wrenched the key in the ignition, pretty sure the something that made him want to believe her was his overactive libido as the scent of her filled the confined space and twined around him as her limbs had when they’d kissed. He stared out the windshield into the black night, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, automatically searching the shadows for anything out of the ordinary.

He reminded himself that they’d only met that morning. Hard to believe with all they’d shared. When he’d woken up this morning the name Miyuki Price-Jones had been nothing more than a name on a folder and his chance to even things up with Cal. Now, knowing what she smelled like fresh from her shower, how the hot water gave her skin a delicate blush, and how soft the damp strands of her hair felt against his face, she was more. Much more. And with the hope that she could continue to be more, sprouting and snaking through him like a vine, he had to be sure of her honesty beyond any shadow of a doubt.

Mi stared out the window of Lucas’s truck, trying to remember what it had been like to feel safe. Had it only been that morning she’d made plans with Lucy to go to the antique swap meet, hoping she’d find just the right picture for her dining room? And now she was fleeing her home, her landing place when things with her mother got too crazy.

She tried not to think about all of the things she’d sacrificed to build it. The years of working two and three jobs before she’d gotten lucky and landed the co-hosting job at
Pleasure at Home
. Eating at home instead of going out and counting her pennies until payday, hoping she had enough for gas
and
groceries. The personal relationships she hadn’t had the time or energy for. Having to buy used cars instead of new. The vacations spent with her mother instead of baking on a warm sandy beach with friends. She’d never even been more than a hundred miles from Dallas in her whole life.

“Mi, look at me,” Lucas whispered, his tone gentle and coxing.

She had a right to be mad at him for listening in on her conversation with Jason, but with everything else going on in her life she just didn’t have any room inside her for another useless emotion. She gave up the wishing and hoping that this was all a bad dream or a joke and turned away from the house that didn’t feel like hers anymore, turning toward Lucas.

“I’m going to need you to be honest with me, Mi. We’re partners in this, but if I don’t know all of the players I can’t do my job. Can you do that?”

She nodded, unable to pull off more than that.

He looked out over the hood of the truck, then back at her. The thin light coming into the truck reflected in his dark eyes, like two lighthouses on a distant shore. She had the feeling he was weighing his next words carefully and that her response would be important to him.

“I saw the baby pictures and bed in the spare bedroom. And the child car seat in your car—”

She answered the question before he could ask it. She’d been expecting it. It wasn’t the first time she’d been asked and it wouldn’t be the last. “I don’t have a baby. I like to go to swap meets and garage sales.”

“You buy baby things?” He had that look men get when the words baby and marriage are mentioned.

“Lucy’s having a baby.”

“Oh. Right.” He searched her face in that probing way he had, as if he could read her thoughts. He must have come to some kind of conclusion about her because he nodded, giving her one of his rare smiles, this one was meant to be reassuring. “Sorry. Had to ask. A baby would complicate things.”

Mi let out a relieved breath and turned back toward the window, resting her chin on her fist. “Don’t worry about it.”

He flipped the headlights on, shifted the truck into gear, and pulled away from her house. “It’s going to be all right, you know. You’re going to be all right. Do you trust me?”

She glanced at his profile so hard yet noble. Did she trust him? Did she have any other choice? “Where are we going?”

“My place. I have a spare bedroom.” He shot her a quick glance when she didn’t respond right away. “It’s the safest place I could think of.”

“Okay.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him check on her again, gauging her level of consent. “Unless you have somewhere else you’d rather go.”

“Your place is fine, I’m sure. I’m just very tired.”

While Lucas took the return call of the detective in charge of her case, Mi sat back in the plush leather seat and replayed her conversation with Lucas, hoping her answers had been enough to assuage his curiosity. She doubted it. Panic clawed at her and she bit down hard on her lip, pushing the fear and dread down. She’d had to structure her life around the terrible decision she’d been forced to make when she was only fifteen. And now she sat in the plush interior, driving who knows where with a man who saw more than he should.

All of her years of careful planning and sacrificing could come crashing down around her with one slip up. She’d be wise to keep her distance from Lucas. He wasn’t going to stop asking questions and seeing more than she wanted to show. Suddenly the big man sitting across the darkened cab who touched her so tenderly, kissed her as though he never wanted to stop, and made her want to bare her soul and turn over her troubles to him seemed a bigger threat than the letters, stalker, and cameras combined.

How could she reach out for what Lucas offered when her hands were so full with the barely pasted together shards of her life?

 

 

 

CHAPTER FOUR

 

Mi hadn’t thought about what she expected Lucas’s home to be like, but if she had she never would have come up with this gleaming tower situated in heart of the Dallas Arts District. How shabby her tiny little house must have seemed to him by comparison. She wondered why a man who lived like this would take a job as a bodyguard. He surely didn’t need the money unless guarding people paid more than she thought.
A lot more.

Lucas pressed a button on the remote hooked to his visor, opening the gate to the underground garage. He rolled the truck through and parked in a reserved space near the glass doors to the lobby. In moments he was ushering Mi into an elevator as he waved to the three doormen manning the security desk. As the elevator door whooshed closed she caught one of the guards eyeing her as though she were a dirty mutt Lucas was smuggling into the building.

She shouldn’t be here. This was wrong. She should have insisted on a hotel even though she couldn’t afford the expense. She crossed her arms over her chest, catching sight of her reflection in the tinted glass doors. Nervous laughter threatened to bubble up at the mirrored image of her and Lucas standing side by side until she raised her gaze meeting his in their reflection. He was watching her, gauging her reaction. But there was something altogether hot and aching behind his appraisal of her, as though he both longed for and dreaded having her in his home.

Maybe she shouldn’t have trusted him so much, allowed him to take control. Chills skittered through her and she rubbed her arms, feeling a bit like the fly to his spider.

Then the doors slid open and the image was gone, replaced by the most plush, modern space she’d ever seen. And beyond that, floor to ceiling glass walls presented a panoramic view of downtown Dallas. Lights twinkled in the distance for miles. Lucas motioned for her to precede him into the apartment… or penthouse. Mi couldn’t be sure, but she had a feeling Lucas wouldn’t have settled for anything less, which made her wonder about his apparent interest in her.

The thick carpet cushioned their footfalls, creating an eerie hush. Everything was so neat, so polished and new, but impersonal as though anyone could walk into the space and call it their own. Mi wondered how a person could live in a space devoid of personality. A part of her felt sorry for Lucas this beautiful condo was where a person stayed not lived.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

Mi thought Lucas had loomed large in her small house, but here in this vast space he seemed even larger somehow.

“I don’t have much in the fridge, but there’s an all night deli around the corner that delivers.”

Mi shook her head, scanning the room, trying to take it all in and make it fit with what she knew of Lucas. Or what little she knew of him.

As though reading her thoughts, Lucas filled in the missing pieces. “My ex-girlfriend picked out this apartment and furniture. I like it. Or I did.” His gaze roamed the room as hers had. “It’s a lot for one person.” He shrugged. “I didn’t know what to do with it, you know, after.” His eyes met hers and the room seemed to shrink, bringing him closer.

“It’s… nice.”

He let out a harsh laugh. “It’s cold.”

She didn’t think he was only talking about the decor, but the woman who’d chosen it. Curiosity unfurled within her, mingling with jealousy and a teeny tiny seed of resentment. Who was this woman Lucas had trusted with more than just his wallet? Mi looked around again, viewing the space anew. It
was
cold. She suppressed a shudder and turned back to Lucas to find him watching her, waiting for her pronouncement.

“It’s modern,” she offered.

“You’re being nice. The first time I sat on that couch.” He pointed to a sharp-angled, leather and steel grouping. “I thought I’d impale myself.”

“That could be dangerous. Why do you keep it?”

He hitched a shoulder. “Haven’t gotten around to replacing it.”

Mi wandered over to the window and looked out. Forty-two floors was a long way up… or down, depending on your perspective. Lucas came up behind her, but didn’t touch her. Warmth radiated off him and into her.

“I bought the place for the view.” His voice lowered, sending a deep rumbling through her. He was so
close
.

“It’s beautiful.” Her words came out breathless, almost sultry.

He traced a finger down the side of her throat. “Hmm, it is.”

She had a sudden vision of him pressing her against the glass, lifting her skirt and tracing kisses along the line his finger had drawn. He’d take her hard and fast, right there while the whole city watched, her palms sliding down the panes. She swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to lift her skirt for him and beg him to do it. She wanted to lose herself in the mindless give and take, the blinding, driving need. For just a moment, she wanted something for her. To come apart in arms that would support her when she came back together, back to herself.

She took a sliding step to the side and spun away from him. This was not for her. He was not for her. She had to remind herself that this man was a stranger, paid to protect her and nothing more.

“You must be tired.” She could hear the rejection in his voice as though he might have been having similar thoughts.

She cleared her throat, hoping to clear away the need that threatened to swallow her whole. “It is late. And I have a show tomorrow.”

“Of course. I’ll take you to your room.” He grabbed her bag from the chair where he’d dropped it earlier and proceeded down the hall to the right.

Mi followed him past two doors to a set of double doors. Lucas opened one, not stopping to see if she followed. The bedroom was nearly as large as the living room with two full walls of windows in an L shape. The large bed sat on a platform positioned for a perfect view of the Dallas skyline.

Lucas sat her bag on the bed, then disappeared through yet another door. Mi followed, stopping short at the entrance to a closet. Shirts, jackets, trousers, and suits lined the walls broken only by a bank of drawers and a section of tilted shelves that displayed shoes of every kind.

“This is your room.”

Lucas continued to go through drawers, pulling clothing out. “Yes.”

“I can’t… that is… you don’t expect…”

Lucas looked up from his task, then in two steps he was standing in front of her. She almost backed away on instinct. He placed a hand on the doorway above her head and bent down to her.

His gaze pinned her in place, his words flowing over her like warm honey. “No, I don’t expect.” His voice dropped to a whisper that stroked her senses as if he’d touched her. “I want.”

Heat shot straight through her and with nothing more than his words she was wet and pulsing with need for him. Her nipples chapped against the fabric of her shirt, heightening her excitement. She pressed her legs together, holding in the sensation.

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss at the corner of her mouth. “But not tonight.” He pushed off the doorframe and went back to his task, collecting what he needed.

“But this is your room,” she whispered, not trusting her full voice.

“And the one furthest from the front door. I need to be between you and whatever may come.” He gathered the pile he’d assembled and came toward her, backing her into the bedroom.

She followed him back down the hall, curious to see where he’d go. Not that she cared. She really shouldn’t care. It was just that she needed to know where he was in case of whatever might come. At least that’s what she told herself. He went into the room closest to the living area and furthest from his bedroom. Another wall of windows spanned this bedroom, a guest room from the look of it.

Lucas set his things on the dresser and turned to her. “Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

“No.” Not for food anyway.

“Then off to bed with you.”

He gripped her by the shoulders, spun her around, and marched her back down the hall to his bedroom. At the door he moved his hands up, cupping her face, his fingers tangling in her hair. Then with his eyes on hers he bent down and gave her the most chaste goodnight kiss, the first date kind.

“Goodnight,
querida
.” He closed the door with a quiet snick, leaving a void of warmth in his wake.

Mi leaned against the door, pressing her face to the paneled wood, and smoothed her hands over it, as she would like to have touched him. When he was there she felt safe and overwhelmed all at once. With him gone the room felt vast and empty.
She
felt empty. Mi wrenched herself from the door, feeling silly and lonely, and forced herself to go through the routine of getting ready for bed. It was nearly midnight, but she wasn’t tired. After brushing her teeth and changing into a nightgown she examined the bed, certain she’d need to take a running jump at it.

Instead she went to the closet. The light flickered on automatically revealing a neatness that bordered on military precision. Each hanger was spaced equal distance from the other, the shoes rivaled a store display, and there wasn’t a speck of dust or stray sock to be found. She wondered if he’d notice if she changed things around or moved a few hangers so their spacing was more random. Once the thought struck, she couldn’t get it out of her head. She tapped a hanger closer to its neighbor, then switched two of the shirts. Smiling to herself, she felt oddly relieved as though she and Lucas were now on a more even keel. He needed a little chaos in his life. Lord knew she had that in abundance.

Mi wandered back into the bedroom and turned out the lights. The skyline illuminated the room, lengthening the shadows, lending a coolness to the space that would have been romantic if she had someone to share it with. She climbed into the bed and settled amongst the pillows. Sleep eluded her, her thoughts jumbling and crashing into each other, replaying scenes from the day over and over.

After a half hour she gave up and padded out into the living space, looking for the kitchen and hopefully a glass of warm milk. She stopped when she heard Lucas murmuring, then tip-toed further down the hall until she could see him sitting on the floor in front of the sharp-looking sofa group. He faced the window, his back to her. She thought he might be on the phone and turned to go back to her bedroom when his voice startled her.

“Can’t sleep,
querida
?”

The man had supernatural hearing. Mi inched her way into the room, stopping when the sofa blocked her way.

Lucas looked over his shoulder at her. “Come here. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Mi didn’t know what to expect so when she caught sight of the small fluff of orange fur cupped in his large hands, she gasped and rushed over for a closer look.

Lucas held his hands out to her. “Want to hold him?”

Dropping to her knees, Mi looked into the bright blue eyes of the little orange kitten and her heart melted. She scooped him out of Lucas’s hands. “Oh! He’s purring.” She hugged the kitten close to her body. Gently stroking his head, she marveled at how soft his fur was.

If Lucas had known what kind of miracle Mi’s smile was, he would have carried a dozen kittens in his pockets just to see it every day. She looked up at him with the most amazing expression, her amber eyes crinkling at the corners. His heart did a slow roll in his chest and he swallowed hard, his palms growing damp. If he’d thought her pretty before, he was wrong. When she truly smiled, she was luminous. The simple joy of holding a kitten radiated from her into him and he felt like a teenager on the verge of his first kiss.

“Where’d you get him?” Mi asked, cradling the kitten against her chest.

“Found him on the side of the road a couple of blocks away.”

“A stray. You poor thing.” She snuggled the cat closer. “What’s his name?”

Lucas would have given anything to trade places with that cat and felt a bit stupid for having the thought. “Gooch,” he answered.

Mi’s brows dipped. “Why did you name him Gooch?”

“He reminds me of a friend I had.”

“You had a friend named
Gooch
?”

“It was what everyone called him.”

“Why does he remind you of your friend?”

Lucas took the opportunity to scoot closer to Mi, stroking a finger over the kitten’s head and down his back. “Gooch had orange hair that stuck up all over his head when it grew long and huge blue eyes.” Lucas chuckled at the memory that still carried the pang of loss. “His eyes were so big and round they looked like marbles. Just like this guy’s.”

“What happened to him?” Mi asked her tone hushed as if she was afraid to tread on bad memories.

“He was killed during the same mission that earned me a ticket home.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“What happened?”

Lucas looked away and out into the night as if the lights that twinkled back at him could relieve the misery of that night a year ago. “He took a bullet meant for me.” There was more, the blood flowing over his hands as he held the pieces of his friend’s skull together. The tufts of orange hair matted with blood and brain matter. And the blank, far-away look in those big, too fucking trusting, blue eyes.

“I’m so, so sorry.”

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