Want Me (3 page)

Not a gown so much, he realized. It was a very, very sexy piece of lingerie. Sheer in places, lacy in others. Designed to look like pure temptation.

“This shouldn’t be up here,” Sophie said as she balled the lingerie up in her fist. “It
shouldn’t.
”

It was. “Maybe the bastard from last night wanted a memento to keep with him.” And he’d brought it up there.

Sophie’s body had frozen.

Lex stalked toward her. “You’re sure that wasn’t up here?”

“I bought it last week, okay?” She licked her lips. “The tag is still on it—
look.
”

And she thrust it at him. The soft fabric filled his hands and, sure enough, a tag was still on it.

Two thoughts pushed through his mind.

You left it because you realized it had never touched Sophie’s sweet skin.

A furious thought, aimed at the perp who’d tried to terrorize her.

And…

Who the hell had she been planning to wear that lace for?

A jealous thought because he could all too easily imagine Sophie wearing something like that—for him.

He shoved the garment into the pocket of his coat and he got his control back. Sophie needed his help—not his lust or his freaking jealousy right then. “Where does that other door lead?”

Frowning, she looked over at the door. “To the second side of the brownstone. I told you, I’m still renovating it, so it’s a work in progress. But I was…I was planning to rent it out before…”

Before she’d been stalked? Or before Daniel Duvato had attacked her? Because now, her safe haven had been invaded twice. Duvato and whoever this joker was…they were destroying what should have been a secure home for Sophie. He hated that.

He tried to be careful as he opened that second door. He wanted to get a team in to search for prints up there. Not the cops, but a team from VJS Protection. Because he was betting the cops hadn’t even bothered to look up there when they’d done their sweep.

When the door opened, he found himself in another closet. He strode out and realized he was in a bedroom, a place that was a mirror opposite of Sophie’s room.

No furniture there. Freshly painted walls. The smell of new carpet.

“Is this side of the house wired for security?” he asked her.

Silence.

“Sophie?”

She was right behind him. “I should have thought about this.” Now anger hummed in her voice. “I hadn’t gotten the workers out to the place since before—before Daniel’s attack. But they were here plenty before that night. It would have been so easy for one of them to find the attic entrance. To get into my space.” She gave a rough, angry shake of her head. “I should have thought of them!”

“So…you’re saying this side isn’t wired for security?” Just to be clear.

Streaks of red flamed on her cheeks. “Not yet, but it will be by the end of the day. And those men—I thought I could trust them because they were Finn’s men.”

Finn?
Her voice had softened a bit when she said the man’s name. He didn’t like that softening. “Finn? Does the guy have a last name?”

“Finn Scott. He always vets his people, so I didn’t even consider them.” Her breath expelled in a hard rush. “I should have known better.” It sounded as if she were berating herself.

“Easy,” he told her, trying to make his voice gentle. “This shit isn’t on you, sweetheart.”

Her head whipped up. Right, he’d just called her
sweetheart.

Lex cleared his throat and said, “It’s not your fault some sick SOB broke into your house. You can’t do a background check on every single person you meet.”

She blinked.

“This shit isn’t on you,” he told her once more. “It’s on the freak who broke in. And I’ll find him.” He’d get Chance and Dev to interrogate every man who’d been working there.
Maybe I’ll do some personal interrogating, too.
Particularly with
Finn.
Once he was sure Sophie was safe for the day, he’d question the guy.

Her hands fisted at her sides. “In my house. All this time…right with me?” Her eyes were flashed with a tangle of emotions. “I guess you can never be safe, no matter how hard you try.”

She rushed past him. He could see the painter’s tape then, and the drop cloths that were lining the stairs. She hurried down those stairs. The first floor was definitely still in need of repair. The walls looked as if they were preparing to be primed.

Sophie hurried to the door. She unlocked it, then rushed into the main foyer of the building. The foyer that also led to her home on the right side of the building.

“Sophie!”

But she ran outside, glaring to the left, then to the right. The cold wind sent her hair flying around her face.

He caught her shoulders and spun her around. That was when he realized…she wasn’t glaring. She wasn’t out there because she was furious.

Sophie was…crying?

Oh, the hell, no.

He didn’t like her tears. His chest ached and he found himself pulling her into his arms, crushing her against his chest. And with her against him like that, he was reminded again of how small, how delicate she was.

She fell down the stairs. The bastard had a knife.
This wasn’t some story she was spinning, it was the absolute truth. Dev had it all wrong.

“I’ll get him,” Lex promised her. Right then, he might have promised anything to stop her tears. Eyes as beautiful as hers shouldn’t ever be filled with tears. Not her. Never her.

What is happening to me?

Her head tipped back. She stared up at him. Her lips were parted and—

He just lifted her up. Lex held Sophie easily because her weight was nothing to him. And he kissed her right there. Kissed her with her held so tightly against his chest. Kissed her with the salty taste of her tears on her lips.

The kiss started easy. Gentle. Maybe it was even just a touch of comfort.

Then it changed, fast.

Because in the next instant, he didn’t care about comfort. Need burst to life inside of him. Savage and wild and focused wholly on her. His tongue slid over her lips. Into her mouth. And he feasted.

A moan whispered from her throat, inflaming him more. Her breasts pushed at him, her nipples tight peaks. Her hands closed around his shoulders and she held on with a strong grip. She kissed him back, her mouth moving with a fierce desire to match.

Zero to sixty…fucking fast.
Not about comfort. He was kissing her like a starving, wild man.
Only about desire.
Lust. White-hot. So hot that he didn’t feel the cold any longer. He could only feel her.

He wanted more.

He wanted everything that Sophie had to give.

And he’d be taking it.

Only…

Not here, not now.

He licked her lower lip. Lex lightly bit that plump temptation. Then he let her slide back down to the ground. Let those sexy heels of hers touch the concrete.

Her eyelashes slowly lifted as she stared up at him. Her eyes—they were darker, hot with lust.

Inside of him, the need built ever higher.
I’ll be having her.

There were no more tears on her face. Her lips were redder, swollen now from his mouth. Her cheeks were flushed with color, and she was truly the sexiest thing that he’d ever seen in his life.

He wanted her naked.

He stepped away from her. “I’m not going to apologize for that kiss.”

She didn’t speak. She did lift her hand and touch her lips.

“I’d be lying,” he said, aware that his voice was gravel-rough, “if I told you that I hadn’t thought about kissing you before. See, I’ve been wanting to taste you from the first moment we met.” Back at the police station, weeks ago, when he’d been pretty sure she hated him.

And he’d known he wanted her.

“But I won’t do it again,” he said, making sure to keep his hands at his sides and
not
grab her again. “I won’t, unless you ask for my mouth. Because you can just be a client. I can just be your bodyguard.” Was that true? He didn’t even know, but he was trying—for her—to play by some kind of rules. A gentleman’s rules? Hell, he wasn’t sure about that. He’d certainly never been accused of being a gentleman.

A rough soldier? Yes.

A dangerous adversary? Hell, yes.

But—

Sophie turned away from him.

Not
a good sign.

“I can be your bodyguard.” He had to say this to her. “I can be your lover. The choice is yours, but no matter what…” And he waited until she looked back at him. “I swear, you’ll be safe. No one will hurt you while I’m near.
No one.
” It was a promise he fully intended to keep.

***

Red blinded him…a furious red to match the rage building inside of him.

Sophie was in front of her home. That blond bastard—he’d been kissing her. Nearly devouring her right there. And Sophie had let him. Not just let him, she’d been on fire for the guy. Grabbing him. Rubbing her body against his. Nearly fucking him
right there
.

Why? Why couldn’t she learn? The fast fucks that she picked up…those men never cared about her.

They were just there to hurt her. To twist her up even more. To destroy the girl she’d been.

Now Sophie was walking back toward that too flashy car. He was with her. The blond. Holding open her door. Watching her with need plain to see on his face.

This won’t do.

Not at all. The blond wasn’t going to get in his way. The blond wouldn’t keep him from Sophie.

No one would keep him from her. Not ever again.

The blond bastard would have to go because he would not watch while another man tried to destroy his Sophie. Not again.

The blond was fucking in the way.

So he would be eliminated.

“No, no, absolutely not,” Finn Scott said as he put his hands on his hips and glared at both Dev and Lex. “Hell,
no,
I haven’t been sneaking into Sophie’s house! And neither have my men!”

Lex narrowed his eyes on the guy. Finn was close to Lex’s height, but with a build that was a little thicker. The guy’s hair was black, his gaze a dark brown, and he wore jeans and a loose sweatshirt as he stood in the middle of his shop.

“Sophie hired me to do a job. I’ve been doing that job perfectly well. This is the first I’ve heard of any complaints.” Finn’s gaze darted between Dev and Lex. “I have my men thoroughly checked out. No one steals, no one—”

“I didn’t accuse you of stealing,” Lex said, keeping his voice expressionless. He’d wanted to come to this little chat himself, to get a feel for the guy. He knew Dev was doing his tech work and digging into Finn’s past, but sometimes, these up-close meetings could reveal so much more.

“Then what are you saying?” Finn blustered. “I don’t like accusations—”

“Who does?” Lex murmured. “But I’m going to need the name and address of every man who has worked at Sophie’s brownstone.”

For an instant, worry flickered in Finn’s gaze. “Not stealing…then what? Did something happen to Sophie?”

Ah, and there it was…exactly what Lex had thought he might find. Real emotion had been in Finn’s voice when he said Sophie’s name.
Just like hers had changed when she mentioned this bozo.
The guy wasn’t just some handyman she’d hired.

Finn took an aggressive step toward Lex. “Where is Sophie? I called today, checking on the job’s schedule, but she didn’t call me back.”

“She’s in court,” Lex said, his voice smooth. Finn obviously had a problem keeping his emotions under wraps, but Lex didn’t. Not right then, anyway. “And the
thing
that happened to her, well, someone broke in her house last night.”

Finn’s eyes widened.

“The jerk had a knife,” Lex continued as Dev remained silent at his side, “but Sophie got away from him.”

“She’s hurt?”

Again, emotion broke through his words.

“You sure seem very concerned about Sophie…” He and Dev shared a quick glance. Dev had been quiet, just observing—that was the way the guy usually worked.

“Of course I’m concerned,” Finn blasted at him. “I owe her far more than I could ever repay.”

Now Dev rolled his shoulders and nodded. “Because she got that not guilty verdict for you a few years back.” Dev had dug up that intel fast. “It looked like you were going to be facing fifteen years for that robbery, but—”

“But I didn’t do it,” Finn said as a muscle jerked in his jaw. “And Sophie knew it. She cleared me. I don’t steal. I never have, and I make absolutely sure no man on my crew does it, either.”

Before Lex had dropped Sophie off at court, he’d questioned her about the guy in charge of her repairs. She’d been adamant that Finn Scott couldn’t be involved, and now he was starting to see why. The two of them definitely had a personal relationship.

Sophie, why did you hold that back from me?

“I would do anything for Sophie,” Finn told them. “Anything.”

Lex gave the guy a grim smile. “Glad to hear you say that.” Even if the passion in the other man’s tone had Lex’s back teeth grinding together. “Because you can start that ‘anything’ by giving us the names of the men on your crew—names and addresses.” Just as he’d said before.

But suspicion flashed on Finn’s face. “I don’t even know who the hell you are. I mean, you bust in here, throwing Sophie’s name around, and you’re—”

“I’m the man who’s looking after Sophie’s interests. The man who is keeping her safe.”

Finn seemed to measure him. “I don’t remember seeing you with Sophie before…”

Lex opened his mouth to respond, but Dev beat him to the punch. “It’s not for you to remember. He’s been there. He was the man who pulled Sophie out of that death trap that Daniel Duvato left for her, and he’s the man who’s been with her since then.”

Finn’s jaw jutted into the air.

“If you’ll do anything for her, then give us the names.” Lex held Finn’s stare. “I’m asking politely this time. If I have to ask again…” And he bared his teeth, the smile definitely the unfriendly variety. He’d been told by more than a few people that he had a fucking cold smile. A real killer. “It won’t be so politely.”

Finn swallowed. “I’ll get the names.
For
Sophie, got it?”

What the hell ever. He just wanted the list.

Finn turned away. Hurried to his desk. Lex followed behind him and when he got a look at the picture on the guy’s desk, the framed image of a smiling Sophie, Finn, and Ethan Barclay, his gut clenched.

That picture wasn’t new. It looked like Sophie was about eighteen. Smiling. Happy.

And she’d known Finn for that long?

Hell, that woman had to stop keeping secrets. If she wanted his help, she had to tell him
everything.

Finn reached out and his fingers curled around the photo. “Didn’t know about that, did you?” Finn asked, his voice soft, carrying no farther than to Lex. “You might be her new lover, but I’ve been with her through the blood and tears.”

Blood and tears.

Lex could still taste her tears.

Finn’s grip tightened on the photo. “And I’ll be there, long after you’re gone. Sophie never keeps lovers long these days. You’re all expendable to her.” His lip twisted. “Same type. Jerks who like to threaten. Jerks who think they have so much power.” Then he laughed. “But when are you going to see? When it comes to Sophie, you have no power. You have nothing at all.”

***

“I can’t go to jail.”

Sophie turned her head and met the worried stare of her client. Julianna Patrice McNall-Smith’s face was carefully made up, but her fear was breaking up that mask. Causing the makeup to appear too thick. Her lips too red. Her eyes too stark.

“I didn’t kill my husband,” Julianna said as her fingers fluttered nervously. “I don’t care what my stepdaughter is saying. I’m innocent. I didn’t do this!”

She patted Julianna’s hand. “Relax. This is all preliminary stuff. When the actual trial starts, we’ll—”

“Prove my innocence?” Julianna pleaded, voice breaking.

“No.” Sophie kept her voice quiet. Most folks had already left the courtroom, but a few people—including the prosecuting assistant district attorney—were still here. “I just need to cast doubt that you’re the guilty one. Enough doubt to sway just one person on that jury.”

Her words didn’t seem to be reassuring Julianna.

“Don’t worry,” Sophie told her. “We’ll show the jurors all of your husband’s enemies. We’ll get them to see just what kind of man he truly was.”

A sadistic, controlling bastard. A bastard with too much money and too much power.

But money and power hadn’t stopped his death.

“I didn’t do it,” Julianna whispered. “I-I don’t know what happened. I woke up, and blood was everywhere and—”

And the ADA was closing in. Sophie touched Julianna’s shoulder. “We’ll talk again later.”

Julianna blanched.

“Hello, ADA,” Sophie said, raising her voice.

Julianna was still walking around in some sort of dazed shock. Sophie had seen it before. The shock that came when your world collapsed. When you were suddenly faced with losing your freedom. When your friends and family turned their backs on you and the whole world seemed to have gone mad.

Been there, done that, too many times.

Julianna hadn’t even noticed the ADA sidling closer.

Sophie had.

The ADA, a handsome, brown-haired man with a grin that flashed his dimples, closed in on her. Only he didn’t flash his dimples. Sophie knew that Clark Eastbridge saved his dimples for important people—like juries.

“She got your bail, not real surprising, is it?” Clark murmured. “Sophie is the best.”

She smiled at him. Okay, she bared her teeth. She and Clark spent far too much time as opponents. She’d heard he was a decent guy, but since he was usually trying to toss her clients into some dank, dark cell someplace, she’d never actually seen the decent side of him.

Guilty until proven innocent.
She figured that was his motto.

“You took my client’s passport. You insisted on a two-million-dollar bond…” She kept her grim smile in place. “Don’t you think that was excessive?”

The faint lines near his eyes—a blue that was darker than Sophie’s own—tightened a bit. “I think stabbing a man thirteen times is excessive.” His voice—smooth and deep—rolled over her. Clark shrugged. “But that’s just me.”

Julianna whimpered. No other word for it. A full-on whimper. “I didn’t! I-I don’t know what happened—”

Oh, hell. Time to stop the client from saying anything else. If they were going for an insanity defense, Sophie would deal with that whole not-remembering bit later.

“We’re done.” She patted Sophie on the shoulder. Hard. “My associate, Kurt, will take care of you. You’ll be out on bail before you can blink.”

Julianna was blinking at her—blinking away tears. “Thank you. You believe me when no one else does.”

It actually wasn’t her job to believe her clients. It was just her job to defend them. But when Julianna came in for a hug, Sophie embraced the other woman. She even heard herself reassuringly say, “Don’t worry. Everything will be all right.” That was so crazy. She
never
made vows to her clients like that.

It was just that—in spite of all her money and the power that Julianna had once wielded—she seemed so broken to Sophie.

Sophie glanced over Julianna’s shoulder. Sophie’s assistant, Kurt Blayne, was already on his feet. He’d been second chair for her that day, and the guy knew his stuff. He was an up-and-coming defense lawyer at her firm, and she knew Kurt would go far. His good looks would work wonders for jurors and his sharp intellect—it would definitely help his client.

“I’m going to take care of you,” Kurt told Julianna, using a soft, reassuring voice. “Don’t worry. Sophie handles the judges, and I make sure the clients get home safe.”

He also had orders to stay close to Julianna—to make sure she didn’t talk to the press or any little…visitors…that a sneaky ADA might send her way.

Sophie didn’t speak again until Julianna and Kurt were gone. Then she lifted her right eyebrow—a trick she liked to use on difficult witnesses, a look that she knew totally called bullshit—and she said, “You honestly believe that woman took a knife and stabbed her husband again and again? A man who outweighed her by sixty pounds? A man who was nearly a foot taller? A man who—”

“I think I don’t buy her innocent act. And I think you’re too smart to do it, too.”

“I’m smart enough to recognize a victim when I see one.” She started gathering her things together, shoving her notebook back into her briefcase, snapping up her tablet, and—

He touched her hand. “She isn’t you. None of the people you defend—they aren’t you.”

Sophie swallowed, hating the burn of shame that filled her. She and Clark hadn’t attended the same college and definitely not the same law school. They sure as hell hadn’t grown up in the same neighborhood. He was Ivy League, a rich boy from day one. Born to wealth and privilege.

She wasn’t.

But Clark
would
have access to all her records. Everyone at the DA’s office would. So that meant plenty of people in this town knew about her painful past.

She stiffened her shoulders and lifted her chin. Rumors and whispers had followed her for years. She’d
never
let anyone see that those rumors and whispers cut her like knives. “I never said she was me. If it had been me…” Now she locked her gaze on him. “I would have fought back after the first beating. She didn’t. She let him hurt her again and again. And I’ll prove in court that he was the aggressor, not my client.”

Clark whistled. “Like that, is it? Going for the old battered spouse story?”

“It’s not a story.” That jerk would know nothing about abuse. “I’m going to for my client’s freedom. That’s all.” He was still touching her. She didn’t like it. His touch didn’t make her warm, not the way Lex’s did. In fact, he was nothing at all like Lex.

Or like the men she dated. She needed men with an edge. Men with a darkness that clung to them.

Not men who only saw the world in narrow terms of black and white. Innocent and guilty.

Sometimes, the innocent
could
be guilty.

And the guilty could be innocent.

“Get your hand off me,” Sophie said, not even bothering to be polite about it. As if she had a reputation for politeness in justice circles. She knew good and well that most thought she was a hard-ass, and she liked that. Folks in her business didn’t respect someone who could be easily pushed around.

So, no, politeness wasn’t her concern then. She just didn’t want him touching her.

He’s not Lex.

That thought shot through her head and made her uncomfortable.

He immediately removed his hand. “I’m sorry, I…” Clark exhaled. “Look, how about we go someplace and talk? I sure didn’t mean to piss you off, okay?”

Now she eyed him with suspicion. “Why the nice act?”

His gaze slid away.

“Clark…”

“I
might
have heard about your break-in last night. I just—I wanted to see if you were all right.”

There was no
might
in the equation. The ADA had been sharing gossip again. If her spine got any straighter, Sophie feared it would snap. “Did your cop buddies try to tell you that I imagined the whole thing? Because I didn’t.”

He reached out toward her, then stopped, his hand clenching into a fist. “Of course you didn’t. I
know
you. You aren’t a woman given to fantasy—”

Actually, on that, he was wrong. She fantasized plenty.
Mostly about Lex.

“If there’s something I can do to help you, I will. I’ll send more cops to patrol your neighborhood tonight. I can make sure you’re safe while you’re there and—”

A strong, male voice said, “She won’t be there tonight, Eastbridge, but thanks.”

The voice was commanding, vibrating with power, and very close. A tingle of awareness shot through Sophie at the deep rumble and she looked back to see Lex closing in on her.