[English] HOT SECRETS (Bí Mật nóng bỏng)

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She moaned softly as his tongue traced the top of the lace hose and she slipped further back against the sofa. “Royce, I” His fingers slid over the damp black silk of her panties. She moaned again. “Oh.”

He slipped his finger beneath the fabric, the sweet sound of her pleasure spurring a hunger in him for more. He caressed the sensitive, swollen flesh, and explored the slick proof of her arousal. She moaned again and dug her fingers into the cushion, trying to sit up.

“Royce”

He moved to frame her body with his, his elbows hitting the cushion, his mouth above hers. “I’m going to take you to bed Lauren, but not for the reasons I want to. I’m going to take you to bed and put you to sleep.”

“What?” she gasped against his lips. “No. I don’t want… I”

He smothered her protest with his mouth, kissing her, deeply, passionately, then promising, “I’m going to put you to bed right after I make you come,” he assured, scooting down her body, his palms caressing her br**sts, making her pant. He settled in front of her now closed knees, his fingers finding the lace of her panties under her dress. “You do want to come, don’t you?”

“Has any woman ever told you ‘no’ when you asked them that question?”

He kissed her stomach. “You’re the only woman I’m worried about.” He used his hands to urge her backside to lift, pleased when she complied. Royce rolled the material down her hips, over her long, ***y legs, tossing the panties aside. He skimmed her calves, returned to her knees, which he was finding held real appeal for him. “You’re beautiful,” he said, heat roaring through his veins as he urged her knees apart. “Open for me again, Lauren.”

Her lashes lowered and lifted. “I’m ...” she let out a breath, “I’m nervous.”

Nervous. His chest tightened with the honesty of her admission, at her continued trust in him; he wanted to be worthy of deserving it. Even more so, at the underlining inference that someone had given her a reason to feel embarrassed. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like it at all. Protectiveness flared inside him and he moved to her, sliding his hand to her face and kissing her. “You have no reason to be nervous with me. Not now, not ever.”

“Says you,” she whispered.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Says me and I hope says you too very soon.” He nibbled her lip and then, before she could feel anything but pleased, eased one of her legs over his shoulder and settled into the intimate V of her body.

Royce felt her stiffen, heard her gasp, as he ran his tongue over her swollen nub and then drew it between his lips, suckling her gently. His fingers stroked her slick, wet folds, teasing and pleasing, until he slipped one, then the other inside her until she was squirming against him, rocking with the movement of his hand and his mouth. Until she cried out and he felt the muscles of her body clench around him, felt his c**k throb with the burn to be inside her. Until he licked and soothed her to a soft sigh and her muscles relaxed.

When she finally stilled completely, he kissed her stomach, only to find her covering her face with her hand. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. He eased her back to look at him.

She was embarrassed. Nervous and now embarrassed. He hoped he met the guy that had messed with her confidence one day. Oh yeah, he did. “You have no idea how ***y you are, do you?” he asked, nuzzling her neck, his hand stroking up her back.

“Royce,” she whispered, refusing to look at him, and he wasn’t going to force her, wasn’t going to push her. But he knew now, more than ever, that had he given her no reason to believe he wanted her, she would have pushed him away. She would have built a wall he would have never been able to climb.

Royce scooped her up and carried her toward the only bedroom he’d seen when inspecting the house. The room was dark, but Royce ignored the switch, his eyes adjusting quickly. She needed the shelter of the shadows, and he wasn’t going to take that from her. Not now, not this evening.

A fluffy white down comforter sat on top of the mattress and Royce settled them both down on top of it. When she tried to curl into him, to press her body to his, he ran his hand over her hair, kissed her, and then gently turned her back to his front. “Sleep, Lauren,” he murmured.

She tried to turn, looking at him over her shoulder. “But”

He kissed her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She seemed to consider arguing, but slowly turned back into his arms, softening into the crook of his body, the tension sliding away from her. ”You aren’t what I expected, Royce Walker,” she whispered and almost instantly her breathing settled into a slow, steady rhythm, which told him just how influenced by the alcohol she’d really been.

He nuzzled her cheek, drew in the scent of her, and knew he was in big trouble. He didn’t snuggle, he didn’t linger with women, damn sure didn’t get personally involved. Not for years, not since a youthful near marriage that had been so wrong, in so many ways. He’d wanted a career in the FBI. She’d wanted him home, focused on her. The break up had been bad, and truth be told, she’d been right. He’d been more dedicated to the agency than to her. His duty to his country, to the agency, had left no room for a woman, not one he called his own. But he wasn’t in the agency anymore, and at thirty-four years old, he was no longer a young college kid who hadn’t lived and learned. And Lauren affected him like no other woman ever had. And he saw no way around her hating him in the morning.

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“You aren’t what I expected either, Lauren Reynolds,” he whispered.

Chapter Four

Lauren woke without opening her eyes, the aches in her body sending her a warning. Slowly, she forced her lids to lift. “Oh,” she moaned, hand going to her forehead. It was pathetic that the tiny amount of alcohol she’d consumed the night before had given her a hangover.

Shifting, hoping a new position would ease the pain growing in her head, she froze, memories of falling asleep in Royce’s arms flooding her mind. Realization that she was alone slamming into her like a concrete wall. “I’m such a fool,” she whispered. Of course he was gone. Of course he’d left without even a word. She’d all but thrown herself on him, and good gosh, she must have made a fool of herself, because he hadn’t even taken full advantage of her willing state.

She pressed herself to a sitting position, an action that made her light headed, but the true pain was her humiliation. Royce Walker had given her a pity orgasm. If that wasn’t the most embarrassing thing in the world, then what was?

Her brows dipped, her nostrils flaring with an unexpected scent. Coffee. She smelled coffee. How could she smell coffee? Was this some odd, hangover trick of her senses? And then it hit her. Royce. Royce was here and he’d made coffee. A mixture of relief, pleasure, and then panic washed over her. Her gaze went to the barely cracked doorway. He was out there. Royce was in her living room. Oh good gosh, how was she going to face that man knowing she had all but begged him to have his wicked way with her? Life had suddenly taken a path to full frontal embarrassment.

She looked down and realized she was still wearing her dress from the night before. She swallowed hard. And she had no panties on. They were out there, in the living room, with Royce the man who’d taken them off of her. She pressed her hand to her face. She had to do something, had to change clothes. Yes. Change clothes.

Lauren shoved aside the blanket covering her, fighting the throb of her head, and rushed to her closet. She quickly tugged her favorite long red silk robe off the hook inside the door and slipped it over her dress. It wasn’t much, but it was extra coverage, extra armor. She cringed. How was putting on a silk robe which amounted to a piece of lingerie helping her situation? She tore the robe off and threw it to the ground. She didn’t want to look bedroom ready and a robe was bedroom ready.

She was about to head to the door when her gaze caught on her image in the mirror above her dresser, and she quickly brushed fingers through the wild mass of her hair. Her mascara was smudged, her lipstick gone, her general appearance that of someone who’d drank too much and slept too little. She fought the urge to go fix her face, not wanting to seem too affected by this man, like she’d primped for him, even though she wanted to.

She shook herself, told herself to calm the heck down. Maybe the scent of coffee was her imagination, a post drinking, post orgasm, morning after fantasy that she’d conjured from a deep craving for a caffeine IV. Or maybe Julie had come by to get the gossip on Royce. Julie! Yes! She had a key. Julie was here, not Royce.

She laughed at herself, ignoring the disappointment in her stomach, and rushed to the bedroom door but still didn’t yank it open. Instead, she eased into a position where she could peek outside, scanning the empty living room through the crack, and bringing the dining area into focus. And that was when her breath lodged in her throat.

Royce was sitting at the kitchen table, looking quite comfortable and at home while laughing at something he was reading in the paper. His jacket and tie were gone, a few buttons on his shirt were undone, and he’d rolled his sleeves up to display his powerful forearms, one of which flexed as he raised his coffee cup to his too full, too sensual mouth. The one that had done so many wonderful things to her, that she wanted him to do again.

Without warning, he lowered the paper, and smiled at her. “Good morning, Lauren.”

She cringed at the realization that she’d just been busted staring at him. Could she ever stop making a fool of herself with this man? She pulled open the door and forced the breath she’d been holding to trickle from her lips. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

“A gentleman never leaves a woman in need,” he said playfully, suggestively.

In need. Lauren felt her cheeks heat. She’d made a fool of herself and she had to amend that and amend it now. “I’m not”

He lifted his cup and chuckled, a deep, masculine, ***y sound that made her stomach flip flop. “I’m talking about caffeine and aspirin.”

He stood up and held out a chair. “Come join me and I’ll get you both.”

***

Royce studied Lauren where she lingered in her doorway, unmoving, rumpled and ***y as hell, with trepidation pouring off of her. But there was interest in her eyes, attraction in the air between them, that morning had done nothing to dissolve. And Royce knew that no matter how many excuses he’d given himself for why he’d stayed, why he was still here the open window that made no sense, the assignment from her father, the egg and the champagne that had come with a sense of menace he was here for her; he’d simply been unable to force himself to leave. Lauren intrigued him, enticed him, and in short, took his breath away.

“I hope you don’t mind that I helped myself to your coffee pot.” he said, when the silence stretched onward.

As if his words had somehow released her from a spell, she let out a breath, and her entire body seemed to ease with the act. “Yes. I mean no. You made coffee which makes you my new best friend right about now.”

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Pleased with that answer, Royce headed to the kitchen to snag her a mug. He returned to find her seated at the table in the chair across from the one he’d occupied. Her head rested on one of her hands, elbow on the table, the other massaging her temple.

He placed a Snoopy mug that he’d found in her cabinet in front of her, and sat down next to her, rather than in his prior seat. He shook the bottle of pills in his hand and drew her attention. “I dug around and found these in your spare bathroom cabinet.” He dumped two aspirins in his palm and held them out for her to take.

Surprise etched her features as she searched his face and then reached for the medicine. “Thank you,” she said, cutting her gaze to the vanilla creamer he’d swiped from the fridge. She poured some in her cup and downed the pills with the hot, sweet mixture.

“You’re uncomfortable with me being here.”

Her gaze jerked to his. “No. No. My head hurts and… ” She stopped and stared into her cup, palms now wrapping around it. “And I… you know.” Her lashes lifted and she seemed to be lost for words, something he was sure the well known dynamo prosecutor rarely struggled with.

“Tell me,” he prompted.

“Oh well, heck. I’ll just say it. I’m a little embarrassed about last night. I wasn’t exactly proper.”

Still honest, minus the alcohol. He’d expected her to be more guarded, expected maybe everything would change with morning light, that she wouldn’t be near as enticing as he’d thought the night before. But she was just as refreshingly different from what he’d expected from her today, as she had been yesterday. And he knew that part of what made her so appealing to him was how real she was. Perhaps the most real thing to touch his life in a very long time. He didn’t want her to feel embarrassed. Hell, he’d wanted her just as much or maybe more than she had him. Seeing her so excited had made him burn for more. Her trust meant more to him than acting on that desire.

“Come here.” He turned his chair and held out his hand in invitation. She looked at him, nervousness in her eyes. He drew her hand into his, tugged gently, and softly added, “Please.”

For a moment, he thought she would refuse but satisfaction warmed him as she pushed from her chair and came to him. It took so little for her to make him want, to make him need. Such a simple gesture of her willingly sliding into his lap wasn’t so simple for Lauren though. The effort he knew it took for her to reach beyond her inhibitions magnified its meaning a hundred times over.

Before she could change her mind, he wrapped his arms around her waist. “You have no reason to be embarrassed with me. I loved last night.”

“But we didn’t”

“I loved last night,” he repeated. “And since its the weekend, I would love it if you would spend the day with me.”

Her eyes went wide. “You want to spend the day with me?”

He nodded as he laced his fingers behind her neck and pulled her lips to his in a quick but hungry kiss. “What do you say?”

She hesitated. “This isn’t exactly how I had this planned.”

“Thought you could use me for a night of hot *** and be done with me, huh?”

Her cheeks flushed. “No,” she said. “I mean yes. I mean...” She groaned.

He laughed. “Spend the day with me, Lauren.”

“Royce.” Her voice hinted at uneasiness. "I’m… ” She let her voice trail off, then gave a delicate little laugh. “See what you do to me? It’s not normal for me to not finish sentences. You’re very”

“Unexpected,” he filled in, using her words from the night before.

Her features softened. “Yes. You are very unexpected and I just really don’t know how to react to you.”

“Honestly.” he said. “Just say, and do, whatever feels right.”

She considered him a moment, then shook her head. “This is crazy, Royce. I’m so not your type.”

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer but he asked anyway, “And what exactly is my type?”

“Julie,” she said. “Blonde and gorgeous and curvy and”

He kissed her, his tongue sliding into her mouth, tasting her slowly, with delicate sensuality. “You are my type. You, Lauren.” His knuckles caressed her cheek. “Spend the day with me.”

“You want to?”

“Very much.”

She leaned back and searched his face, then glanced at the clock above the bar. “Even if I agree, it’s ten-thirty. I promised to join my family for lunch at twelve-thirty.”

“Then have dinner with me.” She hesitated, and he added, “Trying to cut and run on me?”

Her gaze latched onto his, narrowed, “What time for dinner?”

He smiled with his success. “Seven.”

“Seven-thirty,” she countered, and somehow he knew it was because he’d press her into challenge mode, into courtroom battle mode, with his ‘cut and run’ comment. And he liked the contrast of sweet and spicy that was this woman, liked it so much ,too much.

He shook his head and laughed. “Seven-thirty,” he agreed, setting her on her feet before he carried her to her bedroom and forgot dinner altogether. “I’ll drop you by your parents’ house and save you the cab money if you like.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” he said. And he wanted to do so much more with her as well, which was why he set her on her feet, away from him, firmly maintaining his seat. “You should go shower and get ready. I’ll be here waiting when you’re ready.”

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She blinked down at him and he saw the immediate indignation on her face. When her arms crossed in front of her, he knew he was in big trouble. “You have a very bossy way about you, Royce Walker you do know that, right?”

“So I’ve been told on a few random occasions,” he admitted, trying not to laugh because, damn, this woman was going to put him in his place ten times over. And considering the rush of heat flooding his body, thickening his ****, and setting his imagination into overdrive, he was pretty sure he was going to like every second of it. “I promise to try and tame that part of my personality, but in this case, I’ll plead my case, counselor. I had your best interests in mind.”

“Really?” she asked, arching a brow, and pressed her hands to her hips, opening her body language and letting him know he was winning her over. “How exactly is that?”

He forced himself to stay seated and not reach for her, but it wasn’t easy, not at all. That imagination of his was kicking into high gear, and his zipper was stretching right along with it. “Because you see every second that you stand there looking good enough to eat, I contemplate the many reasons why I should join you for that shower. In which case, I can assure you that you won’t make that lunch.”

Her eyes went wide, her mouth forming a silent “O” before she quickly turned and rushed towards the bedroom, her cute, heart-shaped butt demanding his attention with every step she took.

***

Lauren couldn’t believe Royce Walker was sitting in her living room watching Sports Center, with her panties somewhere in the general area of his feet, she imagined. But he was, and they were, and well, at least she could face that fact feeling somewhat put together. She’d showered and dressed in black pinstriped pants, a black sweater, and sleek high-heeled boots, which beat the dress from the night before to face her embarrassment, by a long shot.

Royce rose from the couch and quickly hit the remote, the dark stubble on his jaw somehow adding to his raw masculinity, if that was even possible. His gaze skimmed over her, taking her in with hot, hungry eyes that had her feeling pretty hot herself. “You look terrific.”

“Thank you,” she said, unable to stop the heat to her cheeks she normally wouldn’t have experienced. It wasn’t like men weren’t everywhere in her world, using compliments and sometimes insults, to try and persuade her to help whatever their cause might be. But Royce was different, he was… just different.

They were just stepping into her hallway, about to depart, when her phone rang on her kitchen wall. She frowned, knowing this wasn’t going to be a call she wanted. No one had her home number. She didn’t even know why she bothered with a house phone when her cell was what she lived by. Except her father, who resisted technology, and still favored land lines. Hoping it was him calling to cancel lunch, she rushed inside the door. By the third ring, she brought the receiver to her ear, only to be greeted by the sound of a clock ticking. Her stomach lurched at the familiar sound, the one she’d hoped to avoid when she took the call.

Feeling Royce’s comforting hands settle on her shoulders, she blew her hair out of her eyes and replaced the receiver on the cradle.

“Problem?” he asked, stepping so close that his body framed hers, his nearness, his touch, sending a shiver of awareness racing down her spine.

She turned to face him, the warmth of his body radiating into hers. “No, not really. I’ve just been getting these weird calls. Probably kids being silly. Or someone angry over one of my cases. It comes with the job.”

Royce leaned a broad shoulder on the wall beside her. “What do you mean weird?”

“It sounds like a clock is ticking, and then the line goes dead.”

“Huh,” he said. “And how long exactly have you been getting these calls?”

“Maybe two weeks, and really, they don’t bother me. Well,” she hesitated, “maybe a little. I’ve been… ”

“Been what?”

“I don’t know,” she said as she gnawed her bottom lip. “Nothing.”

He studied her a moment, and she worried he was going to press her, kicking herself for saying anything, but all he asked was, “Is your number listed?”

She shook her head. “No. And it’s a house phone. Who even calls on a house phone anymore? I don’t even know why I have one. Maybe the calls aren’t even for me. Really, they can’t even be about one of my cases. No one could get the number to start with.”

“So this is the only line you’ve gotten them on?”

“So far.”

“So far?” he asked. “What aren’t you telling me?”

She pursed her lips, kicking herself yet again for the verbal misstep. What was she supposed to say anyway? That the phone calls would seem silly if she didn’t have this weird sense of things going on around her that she didn’t know about yet? Or that she felt uneasy watched? That would make her sound like some wimpy, crazy female, and she wasn’t that, nor did she want to be treated like one. Her job, her life, had taught her to stay guarded, taught her not to show weakness, and yet, she was failing miserably at just those things with Royce.

She pushed off the wall. “We should go.” He didn’t move. “Change your number on Monday, and don’t forget to call maintenance about that window.”

“Okay now, Royce Walker. First you ordered me to shower”

Amusement danced in his eyes. “For your protection, if you remember correctly.”

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Her stomach fluttered, heat pooling low in her stomach, at the memory of him suggesting he might join her. “And now you order me to change my number.”

Seriousness bled into his handsome face. “Also for your protection.” He straightened, towering over her, the fingers of one of his hands slipping between hers. “Please. Change the number and call maintenance.”

Please. He’d said please. And when he said it with sincerity radiating from those gorgeous blue eyes, he was irresistible. Again, he’d shown her the unexpected. She didn’t think this man had ‘please’ in him. She liked that he did that he’d said it for her. A slow smile slid onto her lips. ”Since you put it that way.”

But in the back of her mind, she knew she’d agreed for more reasons than simply Royce’s request. Something deep and dark was bothering her. She wanted to change her number, she wanted to call maintenance. And a big, macho male, who happened to rock her world and make her feel safe, wasn’t such a bad ad***ion to her day, or to her plans for dinner.

Chapter Five

A few minutes later, Lauren settled into Royce’s truck and watched him pull into traffic. “We’re going to drive right by my home office,” he said. “So if you don’t mind, I’d like to swing by and grab something.” He glanced at the clock on the dash. “And if you think I have time, I’d like to snag a quick shower.”

“In your office?”

“My office is in the same building as my apartment.”

“Wow. I’m jealous your office is in your home. I’d never be able to do that with my job.”

“When my brothers and I decided to open Walker Security, we bought a small building. We live on the upper level and work on the bottom floor.”

“Really? You live with your brothers?”

“A little too close for comfort sometimes,” he said with a laugh. “But thankfully, each apartment has its own door."

Lauren studied his profile, watching him maneuver through traffic with the kind of finesse he seemed to have with everything he did. “Oh,” she said. “That’s a unique living arrangement.”

He shot her a quick grin. “Yeah, well, you’ll see firsthand soon enough.”

She grinned back at him. “I’m looking forward to it. Families always have great little tidbits to share about each other.”

He laughed. “Yes, well, I see we’ll need to make this a quick trip. The last thing I need is my tidbits getting out before I’m ready.”

Before he was ready as if he thought he might be ready someday, as if they were developing a relationship.

“So,” he said. “I guess I should come clean and tell you that after reading the morning paper, I now know that I’m a close friend of the opposing counsel on your upcoming case. And that I apparently look angry in all photos taken of me.”

She cringed. “I didn’t even look at the paper. I’m so used to that stuff I tune it out. I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t fishing for an apology. I just wanted you to know I am friends with Mark. But we don’t discuss his cases and we actually haven’t talked at all in a few weeks.”

“Thank you for telling me that,” she said, meaning it. She liked that Royce didn’t have a political agenda; she liked it a lot. “And since I know Mark pretty well myself, I know he’s ethical. I know he wouldn’t talk to you about the case.”

“No. No, he wouldn’t. But I read up on it this morning. Sounds like a pretty sticky case. Let me get this straight. The defendant killed her husband and you’re after the death penalty. Mark’s defense is Battered Women’s Syndrome.” He whistled. “That has to be a tough one for you to handle.”

She hesitated. “I can’t discuss anything that we aren’t making public and even that has to be on a limited basis.”

“Fair enough.”

“You’re right,” she said. “It’s hard. Half of the media is making me out to be the monster here, mostly because the family of the suspect is doing so much of it themselves especially the brother. But I don’t go after a death penalty verdict lightly, Royce. There’s a life insurance policy, a big one. And this woman didn’t kill her husband in the heat of the moment. She slowly, methodically poisoned him. There were no calls to the police, no reports of violence from this woman prior to the murder. No history of violence anywhere in this man’s life at all.”

“I read all of that in the paper,” he said. “And what baffles me is that Mark runs his own firm and he doesn’t take cases for money or fame. He’s about justice and right and wrong. He must know something you don’t know.”

“She’s convinced him she’s innocent,” Lauren said, her stomach knotting. “I don’t doubt that. But I don’t doubt the woman’s guilt either. And damn it, someone has to fight for the man she killed, because he can’t do it himself.” She waved her hand dismissively, unease tightening her stomach. “Enough about my work. I’d rather talk about you. Tell me about your brothers before I’m in the center of the Walker pack. I know a little about Luke since, I’m sure you know, he and Julie dated, or had a fling, or whatever it was. I never quite figured it out.”

He snapped his fingers. “Just like that, we’re changing subjects?”

“Exactly,” she said with a firm nod. “I was surprised to hear Luke left the SEALs. Julie thought he’d be in for his career.”

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“He was afraid Blake and I would kill each other if he didn’t referee.”

“Really? Why is that?”

He cleared his throat. “Blake thinks I order him around too much.”

Lauren laughed. “I have a hard time believing that. Blake must be exaggerating.”

He chuckled, a deep, ***y rumble that sent a wave of awareness rushing over her, and suddenly they were joking back and forth, and the stress of her upcoming case faded. With every word spoken, every smile exchanged, she found herself more drawn to Royce. By the time they pulled into a rented parking spot outside of his four-story, white brick building, Lauren was feeling as if she were talking with an old friend surprisingly at ease.

As he held the door open for her and she exited the vehicle, a cool breeze danced through her hair, lifting it, a signal that winter wasn’t quite gone yet. She took a deep breath, allowing the lingering season to conjure emotions both past and present. She glanced at Royce as he stepped to her side, wondering where he fit into those feelings.

She followed him into his building, sneaking covert looks at him, wondering how any man could look so good, so ruggedly handsome in a wrinkled suit with a one day beard. But he did look good, oh, how he did. He looked about as perfect as a man could look.

They rode the elevator several floors up, and when she finally stepped into his private apartment, she was pleasantly surprised at what she found. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it wasn’t what she saw but then, that seemed to be the theme for all things she had discovered about Royce Walker. She found herself standing inside a cozy, warm home, rather than a typical, cold and unfeeling bachelor pad, with a kitchen to her left and a bar that opened to a large living space that said Walker Security was doing well, because this was Manhattan, where space and quality came with a price tag. The decor was definitely masculine, warm hues of brown and tan, and free of female frills, with overstuffed chairs and a large couch. And of course, an oversized, manly flat screen television with large floor-to-ceiling windows on either side.

Standing just inside the doorway, Royce tossed his keys on the counter that divided the living area from the kitchen.

“Make yourself at home,” he said with a smile. “I’ll shower and change, and then we can be off again.”

Lauren nodded, eager to explore. “Take your time.”

Royce started to turn, but stopped, reaching for Lauren and pulling her into his arms. His mouth found hers for a quick kiss. “You can be nosy if you like.”

She grinned. “I plan on it.”

He laughed and started down the hall. Lauren’s gaze followed him, admiring his ogle-worthy backside until he disappeared into what she assumed was a bathroom or bedroom. For a moment, she simply scanned the room. She was standing in Royce Walker’s apartment. Who would have ever thought it could happen? Surely not her. The too hot, too ***y, Royce Walker who’d given her an amazing orgasm the night before. That was surely something to smile about, and so she did, slowly walking into the living room and stopping to look at various pictures sitting on tables and hanging on walls.

There were several photos of his brothers. At least she assumed that was who the two men in the shots were, judging from their resemblance to Royce. Then there was a picture of an older couple with enough of the same resemblance to him to have her guessing they were his parents.

“Hmm,” she murmured under her breath. She would never have thought Royce was so sentimental or family oriented. All his bad-boy charisma appeared to hide something deeper.

Interesting.

Settling down on the couch, she continued *****rvey her surroundings. The fireplace was massive, taking up half a wall to her left, and inviting images of cold, winter days snuggling with Royce in front of warm flames. Nice, she thought. Of course she wouldn’t be around to find out, so she wasn’t sure why she was even contemplating such a scenario.

Sighing, she wondered how she went from having her one and only one night stand with a bad boy, to being with Mr. Virtue, Mr. Dangerously Appealing and destined to break her heart. She grabbed a box of photos on the table and lost herself in what was a history of the family the Walker family. How long she sat there she didn’t know, but a knock on the door made her straighten. “Royce, it’s Luke. Open up.”

Surely, she should let Luke in, and admittedly, she was curious to meet the brother who had seduced her best friend and perhaps broken her unbreakable heart. She rushed toward the door, only to have another knock sound before she could get across the room. Impatience was evidently a Walker family trait. Opening the door, her eyes went wide at the handsome man before her. A girl could get overwhelmed surrounded by so much testosterone. It appeared good looks also ran in the family. As in the proverbial tall, dark, and handsome storybook men.

Before her stood a man much like Royce, but not Royce at all. He was smaller, not that the man was small, because he wasn’t. Next to Royce, small was actually pretty darn big, and Luke was well over six feet tall, impressively broad and muscular, with brown eyes and short hair he’d retained from his days as a Navy SEAL.

His brows dipped at the sight of her. “Who are you?”

"You Walker men have a way with words, don’t you?”

Luke frowned and then burst out laughing. “Sometimes we speak before we think.”

Planting her hands on her hips, she added, “And not nicely, I might add.” She stepped back from the door to let him enter.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Luke turned to Lauren and held out his hand. “Luke Walker. Can we start again?”

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“Funny how your brother had to ‘start again’ as well.” She smiled, and offered him her hand. “Lauren Reynolds.”

“You’re”

Knowing what was next, Lauren pulled her hand free. “Please don’t.” She hated being referred to as "his" daughter. “Yes, my father is Senator Reynolds.” She gave him her back, retreating toward the couch.

Luke laughed. “I was actually going to say you’re Julie’s best friend.”

Lauren stopped walking. There was really no way out of her stupid misstep. She was a bit too defensive about her father. And how interesting that Luke commented about Julie, when she’d just been inquiring about him the night before.

Turning, Lauren found Luke snatching a cinnamon bun off a tray on the bar. He leaned on the edge. “Want one?”

He wasn’t pushing her over her stupid retort. Instead, he was giving her a reprieve, and she appreciated it. “No. I don’t even want to think about food.” She paused for a beat, feeling the churn of her stomach. “Ever.”

Luke joined her on the couch, sitting at the other end, already on the last bite of his roll. “Did my brother get you drunk and take advantage of you?”

“I certainly did not.”

Lauren and Luke turned at the sound of Royce’s voice. This was her first time to see him in casual attire, and he didn’t disappoint. Dressed in snug, well-worn jeans and a black T-shirt that hugged every inch of his muscular body, with his long hair, freshly washed and loose around his shoulders, there was an edge of lethal wildness barely suppressed, barely contained, that had her wishing she’d worked harder to set it free the night before. “No, he didn’t,” Lauren agreed. “I seem to bring out the gentleman in him.” The words were out before she could stop them, and she felt her face warm with color.

Luke looked at Lauren and then his brother. “What am I missing here?”

Royce cleared his throat. “I need to review a couple of files with you.” He paused pointedly. “Downstairs.”

Lauren eyed Royce. “I can take a hint. You want to talk to your brother alone. I’ll wait here.”

Luke arched a brow at Royce. “Doesn’t miss a thing, does she?”

“No,” Lauren said before Royce could answer. “I don’t.”

“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Royce promised.

Lauren nodded and reached for the remote. This was new. The woman waiting on the man who was taking too long to get ready.

***

Royce followed Luke into his apartment. “Blake’s in the kitchen,” Luke told him, of their other brother.

“When isn’t he in someone’s kitchen?” Royce mumbled, considering Blake’s appetite for both food and revenge against the drug lord that had killed his fiancée were damn near legend.

Royce entered the kitchen and eyed Blake, who was quickly gobbling up junk food, his long hair neatly tied at his nape. “It’s a little early for cookies,” Royce informed him.

Blake smiled a bright white smile. “It’s dessert. I ate leftover pizza first.”

Luke grimaced. “That pizza was a week old, man.”

Blake shrugged his broad shoulders. “Tasted fine to me.”

Royce frowned and looked at the wall clock. “Aren’t you supposed to be at the airport by ten?”

Blake glanced at his watch and shoved the chair from the table. “Ah, hell,” he said. “I’m late.” Then he glared at both his brothers. “I know this airport contract pays us, and pays us well, but I hate these weekend security meetings. Next Saturday, one of you is going.”

“They like your ATF background,” Royce reminded him.

Blake waved on his way out of the room. “We’re talking about next Saturday.”

The instant he was gone, Luke turned an expectant look on his older brother. “Well?”

Royce let out a long breath, and leaned against the counter. “I have a situation.”

“A situation?” Luke laughed. “Is that what you’re calling a gorgeous woman in your living room these days?” Royce gave him a go to hell look. Luke raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’m listening.”

“You already know Reynolds asked me for a favor.”

“Did it include sleeping with his daughter?”

Royce grunted. “Not exactly.”

Luke’s eyes widened incredulously. “Not exactly? What in the hell does that mean? I was joking.”

”Someone’s been sending him threatening notes, and Lauren has been mentioned.”

“Do they have any idea who might be responsible?”

“No, he doesn’t. She doesn’t know about any of this and he doesn’t want to tell her until I’m certain there’s a real threat.”

“And that would be why?”

“He says it’s because he believes she’ll blow off the threat. She works for the District Attorney’s office. That makes a person immune to fear in ways most wouldn’t be. I’d like to believe him, and after spending time with her, I certainly think his concern is merited.”

Luke grabbed a chair, and sat down at the table. “But?”

“I don’t know,” Royce said. “Maybe he’s being blackmailed for something he thinks she won’t forgive him for. Which, in and of itself, has bad news written all over it. Then there is an entirely different realm of low to consider, which are the senator’s political motives. He’s trying to get Lauren to run for office and she isn’t buying the idea. I hate to think he’s selfish enough to keep her in the dark over a threat out of fear of turning her ‘no’ into a ‘hell no.’”

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“The blackmail angle makes more sense but then politicians have never made a lick of sense to me, period.” His lips thinned. “Tell me you didn’t agree to keep Lauren in the dark about this.”

“I agreed to check things out,” Royce admitted reluctantly.

“Without telling her.”

“He pulled out his trump card,” Royce explained. “Saving Dad. I figured that merited me doing a quick investigation. I planned on getting in and out.”

Luke arched a brow. “I see that’s working out well for you considering Lauren is now in your apartment on obviously friendly terms.”

Royce flipped a chair, straddling it, his arms on the back. “I planned to feel her out, see if the senator had any merit for believing she’d refuse protection if it was necessary. The rest just… happened.”

“You don’t let things just happen anymore than I do. If you have feelings for Lauren, and really, even if you don’t, you’re headed for deep, muddy waters. I don’t care what the senator says, you’d better come clean and do it right now.”

Royce slid his hand over his hair. “Yeah, I know. Believe me, I know. But if I tell her what’s going on, she’ll kick me to the curb in no uncertain terms. If she’s really in danger then I won’t be able to protect her. I’m… ”

“Screwed,” Luke offered helpfully.

Royce exhaled and nodded, then explaining the phone call situation to Luke before adding, “That about sums it up. I’m screwed. I don’t see how I can tell her anything until I find out what’s behind the letters and the phone calls. And at this point, I’ve already written my death wish with Lauren. I don’t plan to let someone else write hers. She’s spooked and she’s not telling me why. When I know she’s safe, I’ll step onto the plank, tell the truth, and wait for her to push me over the edge.”

Luke studied him a long moment. “Well hell. I guess I’m going out on the plank with you. Give me a quick rundown of the facts and tell me what you want me to do.”

“We have the blackmail possibility,” he said.

“Which is a logical consideration.”

“But Lauren’s not only in a role to make enemies, she’s working a death penalty case right now that’s getting a lot of attention.”

“Yeah, I know,” Luke said. “I’ve read about it in the paper.”

“Then you know how much attention the case is getting.”

“If this was about her case, why send the letters to the senator?”

“Scare the father into protecting the daughter,” he said. “Get her off the case.”

“And the calls?”

“Scare her into listening to him.”

“I like the blackmail angle better,” Luke said. “I assume you’ve sent the letters to your buddy at the FBI lab?”

“Yesterday,” he said, pushing to his feet. “And I’m hoping he can give me something to make this fast and easy to put to rest. But I don’t want to count on that and have it not happen.”

“Understood,” Luke said, standing with him. “I’ll get out my magnifying glass and start looking, with a little extra attention on the senator’s personal activities. And I’ll get surveillance on her office, home, and likewise for the senator, while I’m at it.”

Royce gave him a sharp, approving nod, before he headed back to his apartment and inched his way closer to the end of that plank.

Chapter Six

Royce found Lauren sitting on his living room floor with photo albums spread around her. She turned to face him, smiling. “Oh my God, for a guy, you have so many pictures.”

Royce wasn’t sure how to take that. “For a guy?” He moved toward her, sitting down after shuffling a couple albums to the side.

Her smile widened. “Maybe you’re not the ‘bad boy’ your reputation says you are.” And then before he could ask about that comment, she pointed to a picture of him hugging his dog when he was a kid. “And you love animals.”

He squatted down beside her and looked at the picture, grinning at the sight of his Golden Retriever wearing a pointed hat. “That was Scooter’s second birthday.”

Lauren giggled, pointing at the picture. “You mean you made the cake for the dog?”

“My mom did, but I asked her to. Scooter was my best friend.” He frowned. “He got really sick after eating that cake. My mom later informed me the bone was for him and the cake was for us.”

Lauren almost choked, laughter bubbling from her throat. “How much did he eat?”

His frown deepened at the memory. “The whole thing.”

Lauren tumbled over to her side in a laughing fit. Royce watched her, and any other time, he would have laughed right along with her. But every second he was with Lauren, he wanted another, and another.

He liked her, and damn it, he was taking advantage of her, hiding things from her for her father’s benefit. She thought he was a nice guy when he was nothing but a lying bastard. And God, what a bastard he was. She was making him crazy. She was adorable right now, and adorable had never been so ***y. He was hard as a rock, ready to rip her clothes off and make love to her. That he knew she’d blow off her lunch and let him, only made the temptation all the greater.

He moved toward her, where she lay on her back, and lowered his body over hers, resting his arms on either side of her head. Lauren stopped laughing, suddenly serious. She stared up at him, her eyes simmering with expectancy. And trust. She kept giving him her trust and it tore at him. It tore at him because he wanted to deserve it, and right now, he didn’t.

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“Don’t kid yourself, Lauren. I’m no good guy.”

Confusion flashed in her eyes, but only for a moment. “I’ll decide that on my own, but thank you anyway.”

“I’m not.”

“Innocent until proven guilty.”

And he would be. He’d be guilty in the end of deceiving her. There was no way around it. The words were like ice water, dousing him with hard reality, and he pulled her to her feet. “I better get you to that lunch before you find the picture of my bulldog ‘Rocky’ dressed as a clown.”

She laughed. “You’re not serious.”

He sighed. “There’s a reason I wasn’t allowed into the canine unit.”

And when she smiled at him, he knew he’d do just about anything to keep those smiles coming his way. He just wasn’t sure ‘anything’ would be enough.

***

Lauren stepped into her father’s house feeling more than a little out of sorts. This thing, whatever it was, between her and Royce, was confusing. Of course visiting her father’s place always made her uneasy.

Voices led her to the dining room where she found not only her father and stepmother, but to her surprise and discomfort, her stepbrother, Brad Foster. She wouldn’t have come had she known he’d be here. Everything about Brad sat wrong with her from his personality to his mousy brown hair, black rimmed glasses, and standard uniform of a pressed button-down shirt and a blazer. Brad looked up and smiled at her. It took tremendous energy for her to smile back. “I thought you were out of town, Brad.” Lauren entered the room as she spoke, a slight edge to her voice she couldn’t seem to contain.

“I flew in late last night,” he said, his eyes following her movements.

She hated the way Brad watched her all the time. “It was too bad you couldn’t make it to the party.”

“Morning, Lauren,” her father said, settling his napkin in his lap and reaching for a crystal glass filled with iced tea.

“Morning, Daddy,” she said, and then forced her attention to her stepmother, “Hello, Sharon.”

Lauren sat down at her place setting, directly across from Brad, flipping her napkin open. The table was filled with an array of brunch items. Lean cuts of roast beef, croissants, fresh fruit, and potato salad. “I’m starving. The food looks good.” Despite the rather nauseating company, her stomach was feeling better, as was her head.

With a wink, her father smiled. “Well then, by all means, let’s eat.”

“Brad was just telling us about his most recent case,” Sharon commented, clearly aiming to take some sort of jab at Lauren. She always had an agenda.

Brad leaned back in his chair, arrogance etched in his chiseled features. Lauren couldn’t help making a hasty comparison between Brad and Royce. Although Royce was arrogant, he wasn’t a snob. Royce was confident. Brad oozed an “I'm better than you” ****iness that drove her bonkers. “Just a little corporate trademark case,” Brad gloated with fake humbleness. “A few million in jeopardy. Nothing as exciting as the murder and mayhem Lauren favors.”

Lauren was reaching for her glass when Brad’s words hit her. Her hand froze around the chilled drink. Slowly, she withdrew her hand, fixing Brad with a frosty stare.

A slow, poisonous smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “I protect the public. Do you have a problem with putting criminals behind bars?”

“I don’t think it’s appropriate for a senator’s daughter,” he commented dryly.

Her mouth dropped open for a moment, then, through clenched teeth, she demanded, “And how exactly does your trademark war you’re litigating better serve the public than putting a murderer behind bars?”

“I guess I don’t consider putting a battered woman in the electric chair justice for the public or anyone else.”

“You don’t know anything about this case,” she said, barely containing the urge to reach for her drink again and throw it in his face.

“Brad, I think that’s enough,” the senator chided.

“Yes, enough Brad,” Sharon added, but there was a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

Lauren almost snorted. Of course it was enough. Her father had spoken. No way would Sharon have said a word until he did.

“What is it with your dislike for law enforcement, Brad?” And she couldn’t help taking a jab. “You have some skeleton in your closet you don’t want discovered?”

Brad flung his napkin on the table. “Now just one damn minute”

“Enough,” Sharon said more firmly this time.

Lauren and Brad stared at each other, and she made sure he saw the contempt she felt in her eyes. After several seconds, she pushed to her feet, “I’m not so hungry after all.” Lauren headed to the kitchen, filled a cup with coffee and headed to the den, her favorite room in the house, where she fully intended to try and calm down while waiting for the cab she was about to call.

She entered the room of warm browns and heavy oak, lined with law books she’d spent hours of her life studying. It was an escape for her, a place of peace after her mother’s death.

Setting her coffee down on the nearby desk, she turned to the books, eager to make a selection relevant to her upcoming trial, and temporarily forgetting her cab. She stood there, lost in the text, as she had so many times before. That was, until a faint thickness in the air made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She turned, finding Brad far too close for comfort, a mere foot away, at most. It was unnerving. She hadn’t heard him approach. She stiffened, knowing how aggressive he could get. He took a step closer, and she had nowhere to go but into the bookshelf.

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His eyes traveled a slow path up and down her body, and then settled on her face. “You know, I’ve always thought you were quite beautiful when you’re angry. Sometimes I get you fired up just to watch the way your eyes sparkle when your temper flares.” He stepped closer and reached to touch her cheek.

Lauren turned her head to avoid his touch. “Don’t,” she bit out.

He pulled his hand away, but his eyes felt like a melting ember on her skin. “We’d be good together, you and I.”

“Brad, stop,” Lauren said, looking at him, wanting him to see the distaste in her eyes.

“You’re afraid of how it would look,” he said, his hand going to the bookcase beside her, trapping her in a corner. “But you shouldn’t be. We aren’t blood relatives. You lost your mother. You found me. The press will eat it up. We’ll be everyone’s love story.”

She shut the book. “You’re talking craziness, Brad.”

His hand slid to her cheek and she slapped it away. Panic rushed over her. He never touched her and that he did now set off warning bells. She tried to step around him. He moved with her, blocking her.

“What’s gotten into you?” she demanded, hands pressed hard against his chest.

A wicked grin filled his face as his head dipped toward her. “You have, and I’d like to get into you.”

She’d always thought he was a little off somehow, always thought him a little too like some of the unsavory types she put behind bars, but he’d taken it to a whole new level today. She inhaled slowly, more than a little experienced with dealing with people like Brad. “I’m going to give you three seconds to move out of my way before I bring my knee to your crotch and make sure you know it’s there. One. Two. Three.” He moved, laughing evilly.

She yanked her phone from her purse, even as she walked towards the dining room to tell her father she was feeling sick. Of course, Sharon made a snide remark about ‘too much champagne will do that to you’ but Lauren let it ride. She just wanted out of the house, out of this house. And sadly, she wasn’t sure that wasn’t exactly what Brad, and Sharon, wanted. Lauren was the intruder, the outsider. She couldn’t complain and have it do any good. Her father wanted Sharon and he wouldn’t risk losing her; she’d learned that the hard way too many times to count. But ironically, neither could Sharon and Brad quite get rid of Lauren. And for the first time ever, Lauren felt done with this battle, done fighting for her home, for a family that wasn’t a family at all. In fact, she was so done with this, that she wondered if maybe she shouldn’t just let Brad and Sharon get what they really want. Maybe Lauren should just go away and stay away.

Chapter Seven

It was seven-thirty on the dot and Lauren sat at her kitchen table, her laptop open. A thunderous knock sounded on her front door, and a smile tugged at Lauren’s lips despite her nervousness over seeing Royce again. There was simply no doubt that he was her visitor, as there seemed to be nothing that man did in a small way.

With a combination of trepidation and eager anticipation, Lauren stood up and ran her hands over her light blue, long-sleeved dress, where it tapered at her waist. Her gaze dropped to ensure her skirt rested properly just above her knees, then to inspect her strappy black sandals, somehow comforted to see everything was where it should be.

She inhaled a deep, calming breath and then walked to the door and, without giving herself time to think, opened it. “Hi,” she said, her throat going dry even before she took in the sight he made standing there, somehow closer than she’d expected, while appearing bigger than she remembered. His hair was loose around his shoulders, black slacks molding a powerful lower body, his black button-down sculpting a stellar chest and arms.

“Hi,” he said, gifting her with a ***y grin that all but had her melting into her tiled floor. “You look amazing, Lauren.” His voice was velvety soft and full of welcome male appreciation.

“Thank you,” she said, her own voice a bit hoarser than it should have been, but then, it wasn’t often a girl had a man like this at her door, ready to take her to dinner while looking like he wanted to eat her for dinner. She stepped back into the hallway. “Come in.”

A moment later the door was closed, and they stood toe-to-toe, the scent of him, spicy and male, wrapping around her, teasing her senses. Delicately, she cleared her throat. “I should get my purse.”

“It can wait,” he said, his hands settling around her, pulling her close. “I’ve been thinking about kissing you all afternoon.” He nuzzled her neck. “So, can I?” His lips brushed her ear. “Can I kiss you, Lauren?”

Her hands settled on his shoulders and she laughed softly, surprised yet again by this man. She didn’t remember Roger, or any of the other men she’d dated for that matter, ever making her smile this much. They darn sure didn’t make her warm all over like Royce did. “You’re asking? After last night?”

With an easy step, he managed to back her against the wall, spreading his legs and pinning her with his body. “Last night was driven by champagne and emotion. Tonight is just about you and me.” His eyes were hot, his voice warm, gentle. He leaned toward her, intending to kiss her, and she couldn’t wait. She lifted up on her tiptoes to meet him halfway, but he didn’t let her have his mouth. He pulled back just enough to tease her with what might have been, what she hoped would be, and asked, “Is that a yes?”