The Hill (13 page)

She crossed one leg over the other, standing like a stork, and rubbed her arms. “It's chilly in here.”

Before she finished the last syllable, Judd's warm, rough hands skimmed down her back and thighs. Then he cupped her bottom and hoisted her up until she wrapped her legs around his hips.

He held her against his body, strong enough for the two of them, and kissed her silly.

She tugged on his earlobe and he released her lips. “Do you want to find a bed?”

“As long as it's yours.”

She untangled her legs from around his body and clutched his arm as she swayed. “You took my breath away, Judd Brody, and not for the first time.”

She turned toward the stairs and extended her hand behind her. He laced his fingers with hers and she led him to the staircase.

Halfway up, he yanked her back toward him, hooked an arm around her waist and nuzzled her neck. “I could take you right here.”

She turned in his arms, and being one step above him, she could stare deeply into his blue eyes. “Why now?”

“Because I like a little variety. We can do it on my Harley, too.” He kissed her nose and she tugged on the lock of hair that curled beneath his ear.

“You know that's not what I mean. You've been sort of holding me at arm's length. I get that you wanted to maintain a professional relationship.”

His blue eyes darkened, and she wondered if she'd ruined the moment by reminding him of his professional code.

He slipped his hands inside her panties and caressed her flesh. “It's like you said before, there's something between us, something between our stories. When this is over, we'll go our separate ways. You'll be heading your international corporation, and I'll probably be off to the Greek isles to keep an eye on some shipping magnate's daughter. Why not—” he yanked down her panties so that they puddled around her ankles “—live for the moment?”

Before she could object to the part about going their separate ways and the Greek shipping magnate's daughter, Judd caught her in his arms again and eased her back against the steps.

The Persian runner that climbed up the center of the stairs did little to cushion the hard wood beneath. Then she forgot all about the wood and the shipping magnate's daughter as Judd knelt on the stairs below her and pressed his hands on the insides of her thighs, nudging them apart.

He buried his head between her legs, and when his tongue touched her most sensitive area, she gasped and threw her head back. He probed her with his tongue, and just when she thought she couldn't stand the pleasure anymore, he burrowed inside her, bringing her to unimagined heights.

She panted his name, and he answered by planting a row of kisses down her thigh while his finger took the place of his tongue.

She closed around him, lifting her bottom from the step.

Putting his hands beneath her, he guided her back to his mouth. He added his lips and teeth to the exquisite torture he was performing, driving her toward a precipice whose descent would surely shatter her into pieces.

He obviously didn't care. He suckled her between his lips and the world exploded behind her tightly closed eyes. She thrust her pelvis forward and then back over and over as the warm surge melted her bones.

When her climax had drained every drop of energy from her body, she collapsed on the steps like a rag doll, used and forgotten.

But Judd had no intention of forgetting her—at least not now.

He scooped her up in his arms, and her legs went around his waist again in a natural fit. As he climbed the remaining steps to the second floor, the soft cotton of his T-shirt brushed her breasts, making her nipples tingle all over again. The rough denim of his jeans chafed her sensitive flesh, still throbbing with her release.

With her curled around his body, he kicked open the door of her bedroom. “Ah, here's your bed.”

He dropped her on top of the bedspread and then stood back, crossing his arms, his stance wide.

When he'd tossed her onto the bed, the lethargy from her climax had prevented her from making a move. She lay splayed across the mattress, her hair fanning out behind her, one arm dangling over the edge.

His gaze roamed over her naked body, and a slight smile hovered on his lips.

“Why—” Her voice came out as a croak, and she cleared her throat. “Why are you still completely dressed, down to your boots, and I'm stark naked?”

He cocked his head. “I thought you liked being naked. That's what all the tabloid stories say. London Breck naked in fountains. London Breck naked at the beach. London Breck naked on a yacht.”

She scrambled to her knees, reached up and pressed two fingers against his soft lips, the lips that had just rocked her world. “London Breck naked and Judd Brody naked. That's all I want now.”

“Come and get it.” He spread his arms wide.

She pointed to his feet. “Okay, you're going to have to take off those boots yourself. I draw the line there.”

He whistled. “After all that work I just did on the stairs? You
are
a diva.”

She swung her legs over the side of the bed. “If you want me to...”

“Just kidding.” He chucked her under the chin. He sat on the edge of the bed next to her, crossing one ankle over his knee. He pulled off one boot and then the other, peeling off his socks in the process.

She placed her hands against his back. “Stand up again. I want to do this right and I want to enjoy the view while I'm doing it.”

He stood in front of her and she rolled up his T-shirt, pulling it from his massive shoulders and over his head.

Sitting back on her heels, she blew out a long breath at the sculpted figure in front of her. If she looked up the definition of
built,
a picture of Judd Brody's body would be next to it. Thick muscles bunched across his shoulders and arms, and another tattoo spilled across the chiseled muscles of his chest.

“Are you just lookin' or are you going to help me out here?”

By helping him out, she had no doubt he was referring to the bulge in his jeans.

“I'll gladly help you and help myself.” She fumbled with the button at his fly, suddenly as nervous as a virgin on her wedding night. While she tugged at the button, he plowed his fingers through her hair and whispered, “Like a silver mane, capturing all the light.”

Her fingers shook as she pulled down his zipper. He had mad skills with his mouth and tongue
and
he could spout poetic lines.

She got the zipper down and peeled his pants away from the black briefs that barely contained his straining erection.

Tugging down his briefs with one hand, she caressed his smooth, tight flesh with the other. His body bucked, and she reached around and dug her fingernails into the hard muscle of his buttocks.

He sealed his mouth over hers and she deepened her strokes as he deepened the kiss.

She whispered against his mouth, “Join me on the bed.”

He stepped back from her and pulled the tangle of jeans and underwear from his body. Before discarding the jeans, he reached into a pocket and pulled out two foil packs. He tossed them onto the nightstand.

She fell back against the pillows, stretching her arms over her head. “How long have you been carrying those condoms around? Or do you always keep a couple of spares in your pocket?”

He joined her on the bed, lining up his body with hers. “I've been carrying those since the moment I saved you in the alley.”

She kissed her fingertips and dabbled them across his scruffy chin. “You're lying, but I don't mind a bit.”

Slipping his arms on either side of her, he twirled her around so that his chest pressed against her back. He lifted her hair from the back of her neck and kissed the nape.

She wriggled against him and he prodded between her legs.

She heard the foil of the condom wrapper crackle. Then he toyed with one breast as he smoothed his thumb down her belly. His thumb continued its downward path, and he entered her from behind.

Her heart stopped for a second, the connection between them electric. He made love to her, filling up all the empty places in her soul and satisfying every desire.

They lay spent in each other's arms. She couldn't tell if the sweat that dampened her skin was hers or his. She couldn't even tell where her limbs ended and his began as they tangled in the sheets.

He yawned and nibbled the edge of her ear. “Toothbrush.”

She wanted to drift off to sleep in his arms, but hygiene called. “I left it—”

A bright, white light started blinking in the corner of the room as a high-pitched whine shattered the air.

Judd bolted upright. “What the hell is going on?”

The acrid scent hit her and she scrambled from the bed, grabbing Judd's arm. “Fire!”

 

Chapter Twelve

Judd grabbed his jeans from the floor as London flung open her closet door and disappeared into the walk-in. She'd better not be picking out a coordinating outfit.

“London!”

She stumbled out of the closet, clutching some clothes to her chest. “I need to get my father's computer.”

He buttoned his jeans and swept his shirt from the floor. He took her by the arm. “We need to get out of here now.”

They hit the bottom of the stairs and she pushed him toward the dining area. “Grab the laptop while I put these clothes on.”

He snagged the computer from the kitchen table and tucked it under his arm. By the time he returned to the foyer, London had on a pair of sweats and was pulling a sweatshirt over her head.

He stopped her from rushing out the front door, placing his palms against it first. Not feeling any heat, he cracked open the door and stuck his head into the hallway. Gray smoke rolled down the hall from the opposite direction of the stairwell. He stepped out the doorway and pulled London behind him. “Let's head for the stairwell. I have my phone. I'll call nine-one-one.”

He yanked open the heavy fire door leading to the stairwell and let it slam behind them. Their bare feet slapped against the metal stairs as they jogged down.

When Judd got through to the emergency line, they informed him that the fire department was already on the way.

They joined other residents of the building in varying states of undress in the stairwell. Nobody seemed to know where the fire had started—but he had a good idea.

If he hadn't been so focused on bedding London, he would've done a better job of securing that unoccupied unit. In fact, he should've stayed there like he'd planned to...until London had curled her arms around him on the bike, pressing her sexy body against his in all the right places. He'd decided then and there he had to make good on the promise between them.

When they hit the lobby, the overnight security guard was already letting the firemen into the building.

One of the firefighters stepped into the middle of the lobby. “Did anyone see anything?”

Judd spoke up. “There's heavy smoke on the top floor of the building from unit 502. It's unoccupied.”

The fire captain directed the firemen streaming through the front doors of the lobby. “Fifth floor, unoccupied unit. Everyone out of the building.”

The residents shuffled through the doors and Judd kept hold of London's hand.

She pressed her shoulder against his. “Someone set fire to my place. How did they get in?”

“They got in because I was too busy satisfying my own pleasure instead of looking out for you.”

She squeezed his hand. “That's ridiculous. It would've been worse if you'd been sleeping in there. Maybe you wouldn't have made it out alive.”

“If I'd been sleeping in there instead of in your bed, the other guy wouldn't have made it out alive. There's a reason why you keep business and pleasure separate.”

Tucking her fingers into the waistband of his jeans, she tugged him close. “That's not possible for us and you know it. We're in this together, Judd, now more than ever.”

He wrapped his arms around her and held her snug against his body, and that was all the confirmation she needed.

While the firefighters worked upstairs, the residents returned to the lobby, where groups huddled under blankets and sipped hot coffee provided by the security guard.

The fire captain took the elevator down to the lobby, and London pinched Judd's arm and pointed. “That's a good sign.”

“Ladies and gentlemen. There was a small blaze in the unoccupied unit on the top floor caused by some faulty wiring in the kitchen. We have it contained, and there's no damage to any of the common areas. I understand the owner of the unit is here, so I may please speak to her? The rest of you can return to your homes.”

Judd pushed up from the floor where they'd been curled up beneath a blanket and extended his hand to her.

She grabbed it and he pulled her to her feet, leading her to the fire captain.

“I'm London Breck. I own the unit.”

“Ma'am, I'm afraid there's some extensive damage to the place, mostly from the smoke and the CO2 we used, but we had to make sure it didn't spread to the rest of the building or even the rest of the floor.”

“I understand. You said it was electrical?”

“Some wires in the kitchen. It's common, especially in vacant units. You really should think about renting it out and keeping it occupied once you repair it.”

“Thanks for the tip.”

Judd grabbed her elbow and steered her toward the stairwell. “Can you manage five flights of stairs or do you want to wait for all those people to go up the elevator?”

“I can do stairs.” She stopped at the first step and grabbed his arm. “Just so we're clear, we both know that was no accidental electrical fire.”

“We're clear.”

When they got to her floor, the smell of smoke and flame retardant lingered in the air. They didn't even bother going back to bed. She knew she couldn't sleep. Instead she plopped on the couch, crossing her legs beneath her.

“What was he after this time? Do you think he's trying to kill me?”

“I hate to break it to you, but there are easier ways to do that than setting fire to the unit next to yours. He was trying to drive you out of your place or destroy it.”

She smoothed her hands across her father's laptop, which Judd had placed on the coffee table. “Or destroy something in it.”

“Back to the laptop?”

“Maybe it wasn't the laptop. Maybe it's something else he thinks I have.”

Judd rubbed his eyes. “I want to catch this guy in the act just once. All I need is five minutes alone with him. I'd get some answers.”

She ran her hands across the muscles of his shoulders and down his corded arms. “I have no doubt about that, but until then we can do our own investigative work.”

“There's just one problem with that.”

Was he going to cut her out now? She wouldn't be able to go back to the office and be a good little CEO if he did.

“What's the problem?” She sipped a small breath in and out.

“My temporary crib just got burned out. You don't expect me to bunk next door now, do you?”

She scooted close to him and cupped his bristly jaw with one hand. “You're going to stay here with me.”

“After the night we just had?” He cinched her wrist with his fingers. “For a second there, when I smelled that smoke, I thought it was coming from the bed where we'd just sparked a raging inferno.”

“It
was
hot.”

He shook his head. “I should've been able to control myself. We're both too distracted. We need to be stronger.”

“I don't see it like that.” She flicked his cheek. “When we connected, I mean really connected, I felt invincible. You don't distract me, Judd Brody. You don't make me weaker. You complete me. You make me stronger.”

He loosened his grip and pressed a warm kiss on the inside of her wrist, the pulse in his lower lip matching the beat of her own pulse.

“Let's go to bed and get some sleep. We have a big day ahead of us.”

* * *

J
UDD
 
STUDIED
L
ONDON
'
S
 
face, illuminated by the late-morning sun he'd allowed to filter through the blinds.

Her words from last night about their connection and completing each other had him rethinking everything. He couldn't lead her on. She expected something from him, something he wasn't capable of giving.

He had a big, gaping hole where his heart was supposed to be. How could he ever give London what she desired? What she deserved?

He touched the edge of her long lashes with his fingertip. They both might be better off if he backed out now and turned over this job to another professional—a true professional, one who wouldn't allow a pair of long legs and a flash of silver hair to interfere with his work.

She sighed in her sleep and her lush lips parted.

He couldn't leave her now. He'd get to the bottom of who was threatening her and why, handle it and then convince London she was better off without him.

He could always play on her desire to be the big, important, serious CEO. No CEO worth her salt would be caught dead with a man more comfortable in jeans straddling a Harley than in a Savile Row suit commanding a boardroom.

She had to know she couldn't keep one high-heeled foot in both worlds. He had to convince her.

Her fingers trailed along his bare thigh. “Breakfast in bed? The yummy kind?”

“I'm fresh out of condoms, and we have a lot to do today. I'm going to set up some cameras around here, since the management of this building seems to be delinquent on that score. I need to bring some of my stuff over here, too, if I'm going to be your live-in bodyguard.”

“I like the sound of that.” Her light touch turned into a caress, and he had to use every ounce of his willpower to break away from her.

“I'm going to take a quick shower and get some errands done before the festivities tonight. Do you need to go into your office today?”

“Yep. I'll be there all day, and we can meet up here to get ready for the benefit.”

“Sounds good. I may be in and out of your building today to change the locks next door and to work on the camera coverage.”

“You first.” She snuggled back under the covers. “There are clean towels in the cabinet in the master bath.”

He crossed the room and scooped up his jeans and T-shirt from the chair when he'd tossed them last night. He stepped into the cavernous bathroom and poked his head into the cabinet, which was stocked with thick beige towels and smelled like some kind of flower—roses or lavender. Hell, he didn't know the difference—it smelled sweet.

He snatched a towel and hung it on the rack outside the rectangular shower encased in glass. Cranking on the water, he stepped into the shower onto the tiles that looked like river rocks.

The warm water hit his chest and steam rose immediately, fogging up the glass. He sluiced water through his hair and lathered it up. Then he squirted some liquid soap into his hands and ran them across his chest, the friction creating fragrant suds. He hoped he didn't end up smelling like a rose after this shower.

A blast of cold air hit his back and he turned right into London's arms.

Running her hands across his chest, she said, “Looks like I'm just in time. Turn around.”

What could he do? She was his boss.

He turned and wedged his palms against the tile as the water beat against his side.

His belly tightened as her smooth hands rubbed circles on his back. When she reached his backside and skimmed her fingernails against his skin, he forgot all about professionalism. Forgot about the black hole in his chest. Forgot about leaving her.

Several hours later and in need of another shower, Judd stepped back into the hallway of London's floor and waved his hand at the minuscule camera in the corner. It worked on a motion sensor, so he wouldn't have hours of blank video to stare at. If something moved in this hallway, that camera would pick it up.

He'd crawled around the kitchen of the vacant unit in the wake of the firefighters but hadn't found any evidence to indicate the fire had started from anything other than faulty wiring. Of course, that could be manipulated—and probably had been.

The elevator pinged and his muscles tensed, his hand hovering over the weapon in his shoulder holster.

London stepped off the elevator, the navy blue suit she'd donned this morning after their steamy shower still crisp and fresh.

She dropped her briefcase and put her hands on her hips. “What a welcome sight you are after the day I just had.”

His pulse ratcheted up a few notches. “Anything go wrong?”

“Yes.” Her eyes widened and she took a step forward. “Not in that way. Nothing life threatening, unless you count being bored to death.”

“More meetings?”

“I think so. I was half-asleep.”

“Everyone going to the ballet benefit tonight?”

“Everyone will be there. Why don't we just lock them up in the opera house and question them under a bright light?”

“The ballerinas, too?”

“Can't hurt.” She gestured around the hallway. “Did you get all your stuff done?”

“Cameras, check. New locks, check. Clean clothes, check.”

“Are you going to wear the tux from the other night?”

“Uh, let me think about that.” He wedged a finger on his chin and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Yeah, it's the only one I have.”

“Okay.” She picked up her briefcase and sauntered to her door, key chain ready.

“Why? Something wrong with it?”

“It's fine, just a little tight through the shoulders and back.”

“Yeah, well, if I stick out a little tonight among the moneyed set, that's a good thing. Don't want any of them getting too comfortable.”

She slid her key home and laughed. “That's how I first noticed you the night of the gala. You looked like an alien in that bunch.”

He covered her hand as she closed it around the door handle. “I always will, London. I'll never fit in.”

The smile died on her lips as she twisted the doorknob and shoved the door open. “I don't want you to.”

She showered first, and he left her in peace, although visions of her sleek wet body kept him from concentrating on the TV news.

He showered next, but this time she kept her distance. He had laid out his tux on the bed, and the room was empty when he finished his shower and dressed.

“Are you decent?” She poked her head into the bedroom.

“A little late for that consideration, wouldn't you say?” He leaned into the mirror, his fingers fumbling with the bow tie.