Safe in His Sight (15 page)

With her body caught between his and the wall behind her, he flexed his hips. She answered with a soft moan, grinding the sweet juncture of her thighs against his erection. Mouths still fused with heat, he eased his hands under her sweater, inching higher until his hands were full of her lush breasts. Her legs tightened around his hips. He thumbed the pebbled tips of her breasts, relishing every sweet response she gave him.

He could hardly believe this woman, the one who resisted any invasion of her personal space, was practically molding her body to his. Open and eagerly granting him access to all of her.
Too good to be true.

He kissed the shell of her ear, felt her shiver and absorbed it with his body. Kissing her jaw, he worked his way down that elegant throat until he felt her heartbeat racing under his lips. Better than he’d imagined.

“Mitch, wait.” She fisted her hands in his shirt and pushed a little, the effort creating hardly any distance.

He managed to stop kissing her despite the demands for more surging through his body.

“I let this go too far.” She brought his mouth back to hers, the kiss soft and slow. Sweet enough he might die from it. Cupping his face, she held him just out of reach, those green eyes smoldering. “We need to wait. I’m so sorry.” She shifted and her legs slid down his hips so she could stand on her own.

He marveled that she was steady when he wanted to crumple from the loss. “Okay.” Hell, he wanted to beg her to reconsider. He couldn’t get his brain to push the rest of the words, the right words, out of his mouth.

“Don’t be mad. I just can’t. Not...not tonight.”

“Okay,” he repeated, his voice rough as a hasp. There was no hiding the erection straining the limits of his button-fly jeans. “I’m not mad.” Frustrated? Definitely.

“I’m sorry.” She laid a hand over his pounding heart. “This—” she wagged a finger between them “—is so fast, so good, it scares me.”

Who had screwed her up so badly that she resisted affection and trust? Why did he feel the soul-deep need to fix it? “Then we slow it down.” He stepped out of reach before temptation obliterated the last of his common sense. “Whatever is between us is good.” And worth waiting for. “Fast or slow,” he added, “I want you. You need to be sure.”

She nibbled that full lower lip with her teeth. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

“Don’t do that. Don’t apologize to me.”
Trust me!
He thought his jaw might crack if he didn’t make a quick exit. “Good night,” he said, somehow managing to close his bedroom door gently when he was on the other side.

He leaned back against the door, listening as she made her way to and from the bathroom. He didn’t breathe easy until he heard her bedroom door close one final time. As he stripped off his clothes and slid between the sheets, he knew he was in for a long night. He might not have her in bed, but he knew she’d be starring in his dreams.

That wonderful temptation would have to satisfy him until she was ready to open up to him, body and soul.

*

With a Beethoven sonata lilting through the car’s speakers, Leo drove through the tidy working-class neighborhood and circled the block looking for the right opening. No one took any notice. People were too damned complacent.

His computer genius had alerted him to the activity on Julia’s laptop, confirming the boyfriend had gotten a look at him in the coffee shop. Leo couldn’t let that go, even if their search wasn’t even warm yet.

K-Chase had earned his pay when he’d tracked down the pair, and earned another bonus as he gathered intel on the boyfriend. Julia and her suspended fireman thought they were clever, moving out of her apartment, but they weren’t out of his reach. If Leo had his way, she never would be. He knew she’d recovered her belongings, having watched her do it, and he gave them points for keeping her cell phone turned off. The challenge would only make the outcome more satisfying.

After reviewing the report from his computer genius, Leo had decided the new man in Julia’s life was certainly not an investigator or even much of a bodyguard. He was more an inconvenience. Adding another body to the rising count didn’t worry him, though he was considering all his options. His goal was reaching his brother before disaster struck. The prize was Julia.

She’d surprised him, enlisting help and disguising it as a love interest. The move kept her firmly in the category of potential long-term asset. A shrewd and fierce defense attorney was helpful, and this one was nice to look at.

He’d shifted his tactics with that in mind, testing her to see how hard she’d scramble to stay on the biggest case of her career. She had yet to cave and confess her troubles to her superiors, but he sensed she wasn’t quite ready to cooperate.

That was fine. He appreciated her fortitude. He didn’t trust people who caved too quickly. According to his sources, his brother was merely posturing to keep the prosecution interested in dealing. Until Danny had to put up or shut up, Leo was free to toy with Julia and test her limits.

Leo’s phone rang through the car speakers, interrupting the sonata. “Go,” he answered.

“It’s done,” the female voice on the other end of the call responded. “You are secure.”

“And you are a day late.” He’d hired her to make sure the men who’d been arrested for impersonating policemen were silenced, swiftly and permanently. Leo would cut her pay by a third, knowing she was too desperate to complain.

“Were they interrogated?”

“No. Mug shots, fingerprints, then a holding cell.” the woman confirmed. “You are secure,” she repeated.

Leo disconnected the call and hummed along as the sonata resumed. These were the decisions his brother struggled to make in a timely manner. People were necessary to a successful operation and yet every last one of them was replaceable.

He checked the addresses K-Chase had provided and resumed his study of the neighborhood. Leo preferred keeping the spitfire attorney on edge and learning how she reacted. She’d demonstrated a protective streak—and loyalty, too, currently applied to the wrong people. He’d thought she might be someone he could trust one day, assuming she accepted his offer. Then they could unlock her full potential and safely add her to his greater plan.

Chapter 11

W
hen Sunday dawned in perfect autumn fashion, Julia wished she could simply climb out the window and run away. She couldn’t believe she’d agreed to attend family dinner this afternoon. Well, she hadn’t exactly agreed—Mitch had declared the debate over. Not a good sign. If her brain hadn’t been so muddled by his mere presence, she surely would have found a way to win the argument.

Thank goodness she’d mustered up the common sense to stop before they’d gone past the point of no return last night. Her body heated and her pulse skipped, remembering the feel of his mouth and hands and the remnants of the steamy, sensual ideas that had chased her in dreams.

It would be enough of a challenge hiding her feelings for Mitch from his family today. If she’d given in last night, it would have been certain disaster. She understood how important those bonds were to him and she didn’t want to give the people he loved any false hope or reason to doubt him when she was out of his life.

She rolled to her side, wondering if she should fake a stomach bug. Mitch didn’t know it, but he’d be better off that way. Maybe she should just tell him the whole damned story so he’d stop tempting her. If he knew how damaged she was, he’d be smart and run the other way as soon as possible.

The last time she’d been invited to a family dinner—her second semester of law school—it had gone so poorly her boyfriend had dumped her on the drive home. His parents had rooted out all of her secrets, embarrassing both of them, and he’d found creative and hurtful ways to retaliate during the remainder of their classes together.

The ugly memories sent a chill sliding over her body. That was when she’d shifted her focus into criminal defense. No one should be accused over appetizers, judged during the main course and declared guilty by dessert. She’d been blindsided, labeled as gold-digging trash and denied any chance to counter the allegations.

She rolled out of bed and quickly made it. At the door she paused, listening. Hopefully, Mitch was still sleeping. She wasn’t looking forward to facing him after last night’s attempt to climb his body like a strong tree. Battling against the urge to be a coward, she decided to reclaim her dignity and face him with self-respect and confidence.

She showered and dressed in jeans and a zip-up fleece and headed for the kitchen to make coffee and breakfast. There would be plenty of time to change into appropriate clothes and apply her makeup before they headed to the dinner.

Because she managed to think about it without cringing, she mentally gave herself a high five. She’d spent enough time with Mitch to realize he wasn’t anything like the jerk who’d screwed her over in law school. Surely those flaws would’ve shown up by now if he had that capacity for cruelty.

Resentment and shame from that terrible evening coursed through her, alongside fresh anger for letting the old baggage dictate her actions last night. She’d been afraid that if they’d slept together, his mother would know and call her out.

But Mitch wasn’t like the other guys she’d dated. He’d said she’d like his mom.

“Stupid,” she muttered. She thought she’d packed those old weaknesses away, yet here she was, cycling through them once more. What did Mitch see in a mess like her? And had she killed this chemistry between them by shutting down the passion last night?

She gathered up ingredients for pancakes. Hopefully, food was a positive strategy for putting them back on an even keel before she met his family. A special gesture might take the sting out of last night, though she avoided searching for a deeper meaning in her rationale. She could use a friend, that’s all. This was the wrong time in her life for a real boyfriend.

Great. As if being stuck in the stalker’s vise wasn’t bad enough, she’d managed to work her way into a romantic quagmire. “You know better,” she whispered as she measured out milk and oil. “Mitch knows better.”

Haywood was right about personal lives. Young associates wanting to move up didn’t have time to invest in relationships. Young associates on major cases were little more than ticking time bombs. She was seriously attracted to Mitch, leaving her struggling against herself and the nature of her job not to wreck his life with her complications.

Hearing his footsteps in the hallway, she braced for disaster.

“Morning,” Mitch said, his sleep-roughened voice teasing her senses.

“Good morning.” She gave the mixture in the bowl one last whisk with the fork and then set the bowl aside to fill a mug with coffee for him. It wasn’t easy to meet his gaze when she turned around.

He hadn’t shaved and the golden whiskers highlighted his strong jaw. The snug, long-sleeved thermal shirt emphasized every angle and plane of his chiseled torso. She felt the blush heating her cheeks as the sensual dreams raced to the front of her mind, taunting her. She wanted him, badly, and if the cautious look in his eyes was any indication, she’d made a critical error last night.

Her fingers tingled when they brushed his as he accepted the coffee mug she offered. “I’m making pancakes,” she said after an awkward moment soaking up the delectable view.

“I like pancakes.”

His smile wasn’t quite as warm today. She gave herself a mental kick for ruining a good thing before it really got started. That had to be a new one for the record books. He watched her steadily over the rim of his mug as he sipped the coffee. Unable to withstand the speculative glance, she turned back to the batter and set the griddle to heat.

“Can I help?” he asked.

Oh, she’d like that. She could imagine the feel of him all around her, crowding the galley kitchen with his size and heat, setting her hormones on fire. A ripple of anticipation danced down her spine despite her best efforts to ignore it. This was about becoming friends again or, if not friends, at least two people who could muddle through the crisis without hurting each other.

Time and place, she reminded herself, tossing a drop of water on the griddle to test the heat.

“Who does that?” Mitch asked from behind her.

“Does what?”

“Tests the griddle that way.”

What was he talking about? “It’s how you’re supposed to do it.”

“Huh.”

She shot him a look over her shoulder. “How do you do it?”

“Mom taught me to use a spoonful of batter for pancakes.”

Julia shrugged and resumed her task. Everything she’d learned about cooking had come from the internet or cooking shows. Her mother hadn’t been into domestic bliss, unless it was to impress the newest man she needed for one purpose or another. “If you don’t want pancakes...”

“I do,” he said quickly. “I’ll be quiet.”

She could hear the grin in the eager rise of his voice as she carefully poured circles of batter onto the griddle.

When they were seated at the table with a stack of hot pancakes on each of their plates, he seemed to hesitate.

“What did I forget?” It seemed everything they needed had made it to the table.

“Nothing. It smells delicious.” He lifted his gaze from the plate and the blatant heat in his brown eyes startled her.

“Okay, good.” She dropped a pat of butter on the top pancake and watched it melt down over the others. He still stared at her. “Dig in.”

“In a minute.” He reached for the syrup pitcher as she did and curled his fingers around hers. “No one’s ever done this for me before. Thank you.”

That couldn’t be true. She could not be the only woman in the world consumed with the urge to spoil him. “I don’t believe you.” When his eyebrows shot up, she stuffed a bite into her mouth before she blurted out another insult.

“Your doubt doesn’t change the facts,” he said, his smile back to full force now.

This had to be another ploy to get her to open up. He was too curious to drop that agenda. From the beginning he’d been asking about her past. What had been for the sake of the case felt far more intimate now. Thank goodness they hadn’t slept together.

Yet.
She’d be happy if that pesky voice went mute.

“These are amazing,” he said after he’d downed half his breakfast. “What’s your secret?”

“If I told you it wouldn’t be my secret.”

His gaze turned serious. “You can trust me with any secret,” he said. “Big or small.”

She thought of one of the cooking show hosts talking about love being the best seasoning of all.
Love
wasn’t in play here. Only chemistry.
Food chemistry
, she corrected quickly. Julia had added a splash of orange juice and some nutmeg to the batter. “I wanted to do something nice for you,” she said. What an understatement.

“You don’t owe me anything, Julia.”

They would have to agree to disagree on that. She gave him a smile and felt it wobble. “I...” She tried again. “I wanted us to be comfortable with each other again before we head to dinner.”

“Comfortable?” He sat up straighter, his thumb moving slowly over the curve of the handle of his mug. “Why would we be uncomfortable?”

The motion reminded her of the way that same thumb had traced the curve of her breast last night. Oh, good grief. That was exactly the place her thoughts should not go. “What’s the dress code?” she asked, ignoring the breathy little catch in her voice.

Mitch’s gaze narrowed as he focused his attention on her face. “Relaxed. Dad always changes as soon as they get home from church.”

She sputtered. Could his family get any more traditional?

His dark eyebrows arched high. “Got a problem with church, too?” The flash of humor in his eyes softened the challenging question.

She rolled her eyes, exasperated with both of them. “No.” She had a problem with her general lack of religious experience and education. Attending church regularly had been another college experiment as she’d tried to figure out who she wanted to be. The services and events had been nice. Calming. But she’d put her faith and focus into the practicality of law. “I’m glad you didn’t insist we join them. It would have been tragic if a lightning bolt meant for me singed you.”

He grinned and then finished his breakfast. Clearing their plates, he paused and gave her a heart-stopping look. “You can quit wasting time trying to convince me you’re some kind of amoral shark disguised as a beautiful, compassionate woman. I know better.”

The compliment left her speechless. She wasn’t sure what he thought he knew or how she felt about the words he aimed at her. “Mitch—”

“You’re overthinking it again,” he said, running water over the dishes. “I can hear the gears in your head turning all the way over here.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say,” she protested. How could he? He didn’t know her, didn’t know how utterly wrong she was for him. She didn’t even understand why she wanted to be right for him. For anyone, she amended. Alone, she could accomplish her goals without fear of hurting anyone. Staying single meant she didn’t have to worry about her money-grabbing mother or the shadows in her past spilling over onto someone else’s life.

Only a mysterious stalker had shifted her out of her preferred state of being perennially unattached and Mitch was hip deep in her problems. “You’re a good person,” she began, searching for better words.

“So are
you
.” He whirled around, his eyes flashing with temper. “Thank you for breakfast,” he added, visibly pulling himself together. “I’ve got a few things to take care of out back. Call me if you need anything.”

Startled into silence, she stared after him. How could she make him understand she only wanted to keep the fallout to a minimum?

*

Mitch cussed himself out the rest of the morning. Why couldn’t he crack Julia’s hard shell? She’d made him breakfast and he’d snapped at her. How had she put it? That making pancakes was her way of being comfortable again together. He’d liked the sound of that, until he realized she’d meant it as a penance.

She didn’t owe him any gesture for stopping that heated embrace last night. While he was definitely eager to break through those massive walls she’d built, he was a little unnerved to realize he wanted her secrets as much as he wanted her body.
More
. Sure, she trusted him to shelter her from the stalker. Why couldn’t she trust him with the real woman under the layers of education and sexy-as-hell business suits?

He’d washed the dishes, worked out back, cleaned up for dinner, and still not been able to shake off the feeling of being cared for and valued just for being present. And she still didn’t seem to understand what a gift that was. A gift she’d given him. He wasn’t the only good person in this equation.

After changing clothes twice, she’d settled on snug dark jeans and a soft, pale green top that subtly emphasized her delectable figure. She wore sleek boots with enough of a heel to bring her lips within easy reach. He wanted to mold his hands over each amazing dip and swell of her body. And if he kept thinking about it, he’d be exceedingly uncomfortable as he introduced her to his family.

He cleared his throat. “This could get dicey,” he warned on the short drive over. “No one in my family really knows when to shut up or stop asking questions.”

“I promise not to sue anyone for nosiness,” she replied.

“Ha-ha.” The reply irritated him. “You know damn well that’s not what I meant.”

Julia turned that stoic, knowing gaze on him, the one he imagined would leave a prosecutor sweating through his suit in a courtroom. “You’re nervous.”

“A little.” No sense denying it. He hoped his candor helped unleash hers. “Not about you,” he said, with a smile. “My siblings have a tradition of pestering the one who brings a guest.”

She jerked in her seat, as if he’d thrown more than words at her. His hands flexed on the steering wheel.

“Do me a favor?” she said, her gaze straight ahead.

Anything
. “What do you need?”

“Don’t say another word about your family before we get there.”

The request startled him. “Can I ask why?”

“You won’t get an answer.”

He bit back another terse response at the sound of her cool, composed voice, though it cost him. Waiting didn’t come easy and she’d been pushing the limits of his curiosity. When would she open up? “Will you tell me on the way home?” he asked, parking behind a line of cars at the curb.