Too Much to Lose (11 page)

We get off the bike and she
hands me the helmet. Against the sandy concrete and wide single-pane windows of
the ugly building, she looks ridiculously exotic and out of place. How does a
gorgeous girl like her end up in a dump like this?

I clench a fist. By having a
shit ton of secrets, that’s how. None of which can be good.
That’s why you
don’t want to get involved with her, remember?
The dragging sensation in my
gut tells me I’m already involved—that maybe I was lost the moment I kissed her,
or perhaps even when she first locked her gaze onto mine.

She stares up at me, lips
moving slightly as if unable to articulate what she wants to say. I stare down
at her and fight the temptation to kiss those silent words away. Why am I
finding it so hard to remain professional about this? I’ve been on worse cases
than this. Missing person cases are my specialty and can be nasty at times
because often there’s a legit reason the person doesn’t want to be
found—reasons the average person doesn’t even want to think about. So I do my
job and forget about it. If I stressed over every case like I am with this one,
I’d be old and grey and probably on my damned deathbed.

I smirk as she pulls her hair from
its messy bun and runs her hands through it before redoing it. Goddamn I’m
probably close to my deathbed already. My cock presses against my trousers, the
ache renewed.

“So… thanks for today and well…
for saving my life.”

“You’re welcome.”

She shoves her hands inside the
leather jacket and her eyes round briefly. “Oh, this is yours.” Before I can
protest, she has it unzipped and shrugs out of it.

“Keep it. I don’t need it.”

Jess pulls it back in and
clutches the leather to her chest. Lucky jacket.

“I’d better…” She jerks her
head toward the apartment block.

“I’ll see you to your door.”

“No!” She recovers her
composure. “I mean, it’s not necessary.”

Not for her perhaps, but I
still need to find another way into her life. Turning up at her workplace
constantly is going to start seeming real creepy soon enough. Why can’t this
woman just be like the women in my past? Easily persuaded.

I glance over her silky hair,
strands of it falling across her face, to her slightly slanted eyes and over
the rest of her bad girl image. Is it because she is nothing like the women in
my past? This whole thing doesn’t jive. That must be what’s throwing me off my
game. Previous girlfriends were wholesome, upfront sort of women. Yeah, once
you got them into bed that usually changed, but I knew where I stood with them.

The innocence in those green
eyes is enough to confuse any man. And it’s playing merry hell with my libido.
I can’t deny I’m curious to find out if she’d change too once I got her into
bed.

“I’d like to make sure you’re
safe,” I prompt.

“Not much can happen between
here and my door. I know you think I’m hopeless—” she laughs, “—but I can navigate
a few steps without coming to harm.”

“I don’t think you’re
hopeless,” I say a little sharply.

“I appreciate the hero act, but
it’s okay, you don’t need to put it on with me.”

Put it on? I wish. “Princess,
it’s no act. I’m just trying to be a gentleman that’s all.”

A smile quivers on her lips but
she still manages to look sad. “Well, thank you. I appreciate it.” Jess turns
away slightly, ready to leave me. I have to act fast.

“Can I see you again?”

She pivots and this time
sadness really does echo in her expression. “I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have time for…
anything right now. I’m sorry. My life is complex enough.”

“So why did you agree to a date
in the first place? I thought you wanted me.” Great, now I sound petulant.

“A moment of weakness, I guess.
I’m sorry, Hunter. I shouldn’t have led you on.” Jess curses softly under her
breath. “I’m not very good at this. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t lead me on. But I
still want to see you again. And I know you want to see me.” I inch forward and
close the gap between us. She squeezes the leather tighter. “I won’t complicate
your life, I swear.”

Liar. You’re going to fuck it
all up.

I quash the voice of morality
and finger a strand of hair that’s escaping from her bun. “Don’t fight this,
princess. I’ll make it worth your while. I won’t make life harder for you. Just
let me into your life… just a little.”

As she gazes up at me, I see the
internal fight. Like a little girl lost, she stares up at me, trying to decide
if I’m her salvation or not. I’m so far from it, it’s insane, but I keep my
expression sincere and pray she doesn’t see that.

Then in an unexpected move, she
leaps forward and her arms tangle around my neck. Before I can utter a sound of
surprise, her lips are on mine. I hear the jacket she was holding drop to my
feet with a
woosh
but everything else fades and I wrap my arms about her
waist. I pin her to me and, unable to control myself, I rock my hips into her
in an attempt to ease the agony.

She moans and opens her mouth
to me. I take the opportunity to thrust my tongue in to meet hers. My muscles
go taut at the taste of her; a tingle runs down my spine. Every part of me is
on fire. Who knew a kiss could have such an effect?

I slide my hands around to cup
her ass, notching myself against her. She’s breathless and pliant in my arms.
Putty in my hands. I swear I could take her here and now if I just kept up the
pace. We stumble as the kiss deepens and I manoeuvre her around so she’s
propped up against the bike. I draw away to briefly eye her.

My Harley and a hot woman.

“God, you drive me insane,
Jess.”

She nods, clutches my neck,
nails digging in, and kisses me again—a hard, forceful kiss as if she’s afraid
of what might happen if we pull apart.

She’ll come to her senses. Part
of me hopes she does. I wish she’d tell me to fuck off. But I’m also dying for
her to beg me to take her to bed. Longing for her to strip off her clothes and
let me screw her until she can’t take any more.

Her breasts press against my
chest, her nipples hard against the cotton of my top. I drag a hand away from
her rear, my tongue still plundering her mouth, and reach between us to cup a
breast. She leans back against the bike a little so I have better access.

“Hunter,” she breathes my name,
a wisp of sound against the traffic but it still sends fire shooting through my
veins.

I pluck her nipple until it
hardens further then mould her breast with my palm, enjoying the hard point of
her arousal. Just when I think I can’t get any more turned on, she skims a hand
down and palms my erection. I press a breath through my teeth and kiss her
harder.

A car backfires and the sound
jolts me from my Jess-induced haze of desire. We jerk back at the same time.

“Shit.” The air separating us
feels suddenly cold but I keep my hands on her, unable to quite give up the
feel of her yet. I can’t believe how close I was to taking her then and there
in the middle of the street.

“Sorry,” she says quietly.

“Don’t be,” I snap.

A crack ricochets through the
air and the wall of the apartment behind us explodes.

“Fuck.” Gunfire. Someone is
fucking shooting at us. My side protests as I pull us to the ground and cover
her body with mine. Jess screams.

Crushed beneath me, she
squirms, her ass wriggling against me. “Hunter!”

“Keep still, for fuck’s sakes.”
I lift my head and try to peer around the bike. I hope it offers enough
protection from the shooter. My heart thuds painfully against my ribs.

“You’re squashing me.” Jess
wriggles some more and almost works her way out from underneath me until I grip
a hand around the back of her neck and she freezes. “Hunter?” Her voice comes
out in a squeak of fear.

“Are you hurt?”

“What? No! Just squashed.”

“It’s okay. Just keep still. I
need to phone the cops.”

“What?”

“That was a gunshot.” A deep
shudder wracks her while I dig my phone out of my jacket.

“That was a car, wasn’t it?”
she asks hopefully.

“No way.” I twist my head
around to view the apartment block and the damage. A rifle of some kind
perhaps—a hunting gun most likely. Which says to me we haven’t been caught up
in some kind of gang war because they’d be using illegal weapons. Someone deliberately
shot at Jess.

I put through a call to the
police and the dispatcher tells me someone is on their way. Apparently someone
already called in the sound of gunshots. Sadly in some parts of London, the
sound isn’t as rare as it should be.

“Are the police coming?”

I glance around the bike wheel
and scan the area. Nothing. No suspicious cars or people. A couple of
pedestrians walk past us and give us strange looks. I ease back and urge Jess
to sitting. Her hands tremble and her usually tanned skin is like ash.

“Stay behind the bike,” I
order. “The police will be here in a minute.”

Jess grabs my jacket sleeve.
“What are you going to do?”

“I’m just going to have a quick
look around.”

“Hunter,” she hisses, “someone
was shooting at us.
Shooting!”

I lift a shoulder and crack a
grin. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m invincible. Stay here.”

By the time I’ve searched both
sides of the street, the police arrive with armed officers and they take their
time clearing the area. With no sign of the shooter, they pack up pretty
quickly, concluding it was a one-off. If it was a serial shooter, they’d have
stayed to pick off a few targets, they tell me. I’m not sure if that makes me
more or less nervous. That tells me it’s personal. Someone is trying to hurt
Jess.

But why? Something to do with
the money? A business deal gone wrong? The trembling, wide-eyed woman with her
arms clamped around herself sure doesn’t seem like a hardened criminal or the
kind to associate with dangerous people. But I know differently, right? I wish
my head and my heart could come to some kind of agreement on this.

Arm around her shoulder, I take
her up to her apartment. She makes no protests when I take the keys from her
unresisting hands and lead her to the couch. While she hugs herself, I make a
coffee and press a cup into her hands.

“Drink.”

She takes a sip and her nose
wrinkles.

“Lots of sugar,” I explain as I
sit on the battered cushions next to her. “You need it. You’re in shock.”

“Why would someone shoot at
me?”

“I don’t know. Can you think of
anything?”

“No. Are you sure it was a
gunshot?”

“The cops said as much.”

“It must have been you.”

“What?”

“They were shooting at you.
It’s the only logical explanation.”

“No, that was meant for you.”
Besides, I’m not the one who’s stolen a shit ton of money, I add silently.

“Do you think I’m in danger?”

“The police are sure the
shooter isn’t around anymore. They said it was just bad luck we were there and
good luck that we weren’t hit.”

“And what do you think?” She
takes a sip of the coffee and lifts that wide gaze to mine. Trust shimmers in
those eyes and crushes my chest.

“I think you need to be careful
and think hard. Two shots? Doesn’t sound like a random shooting to me. Sounds
like someone with a target.”

“Shit, Hunter, you’re scaring
me.”

“I don’t mean to. Think
carefully, Jess. Is there any reason someone would shoot at you?” Tell me the
truth, I plead mentally. Maybe I could even help her if she would just come
clean.

Hands clamped around the coffee
mug, she stares into the dark liquid and shakes her head. “No. I can’t.”

Disappointment wraps around my
gut and it’s not because I’m no closer to the money. It’s because she doesn’t
trust me enough to tell me about her past.

“If you’re in trouble, I know
some people who can help.”

“I’m not in trouble. Really,
I’m not. I mean who would want to kill me? I know bankers aren’t exactly
popular—” she lets loose a shaky laugh “—but I’m harmless.”

Harmless? Not sure about that.
Jess sends my heart racing, makes my skin clammy. She’s driving me insane.
Harmless? No way.

“What do you want me to do?” I
ask.

“Do?”

“Shall I stick around?”

“Oh. No, you don’t need to do
that.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine. Seriously. Thank you
for today. You must be tired and I bet your side hurts.”

It does, but I’m not going to
admit to that. “It’s fine.”

“Look about that kiss….”

“That was my fault.”

“I kissed you.”