Closer to My Heart (2 page)

She made a little sound of distress and he snatched his hand away immediately, wiping it on the leg of his pants. The heat of her body temperature was burned into his palm. He let out a deep breath and stepped back. Her boneless body followed, though she jerked a bit like she was trying to stand on her own.

She squeezed her eyes closed and tears coated her long eyelashes. She shuttered and mumbled, “Sorry,” and when he leaned down to hear her better, she sucked in a quick breath. Before he could get a word in she pushed urgently against his chest and looked up into his questioning gaze. She covered her mouth with her small, clammy hand and with great urgency she shoo
k h
er head
NO!

Then she burst into motion, scrambling past him and into the apartment.

His eyes opened wide. “Whoa—you okay? Wait a minute!”

He ran after her and stopped when she slammed the door to Amber’s bathroom. Just in time, too, because he could hear her vomiting—violently. He swallowed.

“Honey, are you okay?” he asked softly.

He leaned his ear against the door and listened. When it was quiet he let himself in.

The lid on the commode was closed and her head was lying, face down, in the crook of her right arm. When he walked in, she stirred enough to reach up, flush the toilet and tear off a couple squares of toilet paper to wipe her mouth. His heart stuttered at the site of tears streamed down her face. She looked so small and fragile curled on the floor.

He grabbed a washcloth from the shelf above the toilet and ran it under cold water, and then stooped down behind Jane. He curved his big chest a bit over her shoulders, and even though he tried not to crowd her, he could feel her stiffen. But once he lifted her hair and laid the cool cloth against her nape, she relaxed.

“Hey,” Lucas said softly. “I realize you don’t feel good right now, but I’d, uh, really like to know who you are.” She didn’t move or speak. “And why you showed up here in your pajamas,” he muttered under his breath.

He moved the cool cloth, gently, along Jane’s shoulders and the side of her face. He tried not to touch her more than he had to, but he was compelled to help her. And good Lord, it was impossible to ignore how beautiful she was. She was so delicately put together. Her skin was bronzed and healthy, like she enjoyed time outdoors. Her limbs long and lean, and toned. And even though she’d just been sick, the cloth moving over her skin made her scent fill the room, and fill his mind. She smelled like lilies and jasmine, and hot blooded woman. He squeezed his eyes shut, and moved away to sit on the side of the bathtub. She probably wouldn’t appreciate his boner branding her back.

“Ma’am, please tell me how I can help you.”

He reached over her to the sink and grabbed the mouthwash, poured a capful and waved it in front of her nose. She moaned and gingerly lifted her head. Murmuring ‘thanks,’ she took the cap and swished out her mouth with the cool Listerine. She lifted the toilet lid and spit out the mouthwash, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

She opened her mouth to talk to him, but decided against it and instead grunted inelegantly.

He chuckled, and smiled down at her. When she reached up to rub her temples, he shifted so he could reach out to cup her head in his large hands. She jerked when he touched her, and then stilled. But as he pressed along the grooves in her scalp, gently working his fingers throughout her hair, she groaned deeply and then snickered.

“Got a headache?” he asked quietly.

“Migraine,” she whispered. With her face down, Lucas had to lean over to hear her.

“I finished my deadline—early this morning—and fell into bed. Not long before you started doing … well, whatever you were doing.”

Lucas stilled his hands for a minute, realizing that his ad hoc cure for insomnia … Amber’s treadmill … had woken her up.
Crap
, he muttered, and that made her smile.

“I’m sorry. The treadmill was loud, huh?”

She nodded. “It’s okay; you didn’t know.” She shivered, and he watched, mesmerized, as goose bumps raced across her flawless skin. He leaned down to kiss her shoulder, but stopped just before his lips made contact. He gulped and sat back up.

“I’ll be right back.” He dashed into the bedroom to grab a shirt out of the laundry basket.

When he returned Jane was swaying on her feet, walking slowly out of the bathroom.

“Hey! What are you doing!” he barked, and ran over to her. She jumped and would have stumbled if he hadn’t wrapped his long fingers around her biceps to steady her.

“I need to go back downstairs so I can lie down. I’m so tired, and if I can just get a little sleep my headache will go away.” Gingerly, so as not to move her head any more than necessary, she tried to pull free of his grasp. His hold was implacable, so she just relaxed her body and slumped against his chest.

“Oof,” he murmured. The shock of her curvy little body slamming against him threw him off guard, and before he could pull away, her belly butted up against his groin. He gasped and jerked his hips back, mortified that his body was acting against his will. He had to open his mouth to get a deep breath, and if she noticed, she had the grace to keep her mouth shut.

He draped a soft, old blue chambray button-up around her shoulders and pulled her arms through the sleeves. He looped the top two or three buttons quickly so it wouldn’t gape open and distract him, and bent at the knee to gently lift her high into his arms.

She squirmed a bit at first, pushing limply at his shoulders.

“Wait,” she protested weakly, “I don’t even know you.” But she was already snuggling into his grasp, clearly choosing comfort over confrontation. His body was so hot, pumping out heat like an overactive furnace. “What are you doing in Amber’s apartment?”

He hitched her up higher, getting a better grasp on her, and when he started walking, she gulped loudly and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Um, I’m Lucas Moore, b—but you can call me Luke.” Christ, she’d rendered him stupid. The backs of her thighs were cool resting against his forearm, and he could feel the gentle play of her toned, womanly muscles rippling beneath her skin. He cleared his throat and started over.

“Amber is marrying my brother, Andrew.” He rotated his torso, along with Jane in tow, to look at the clock in the kitchen. “Well, by now they’re bound to be fortified with enough whiskey to make it through the ceremony. They flew to Scotland yesterday.”

He walked into the great room, and sat down on the oversized two-seater chair. Fatigue still hit him quickly, so if he had to rest, it didn’t get any better than with a beautiful woman warming his cock. And this one was so fucking hot that he could almost ignore the tug in his shoulder. He liked sharing his lap.

She was muttering something to herself, working it out in her mind. Luke smiled, even though this was one of the weirdest situations he’d ever been in. He couldn’t wait to hear what she had to say. Amber had some things to say about her square peg landlord.

“Oh, God, now I remember Amber telling me about that. She’s going to be gone until the semester starts in six weeks, right? I guess the biking tour she and Andy are taking in Scotland is more like a honeymoon.
Duh
.” She snickered and shook her head. “When I’m on deadline, I don’t really pay attention to anything else.”

She was quiet for a moment and then pumped her fist in the air. “Oh my god, her lease will be up by the time she gets back ... And then it’ll be time for her to move out!” Her victorious outburst was short-lived before she groaned and pressed her fingers against her temples.

“Not a fan of Amber’s, huh? You must be Jane, right?” his voice was quiet, and so sexy, rumbling through her body. Even with a pounding migraine all of her girlie parts sizzled. The ones resting on his overly lumpy lap. Good Lord, the lap with the wonderful feeling erection riding her cheeks. She gulped.

“Uh, mmm hmm.” She nodded. “I am Jane and I live downstairs. And you’re totally right—I’m not a fan of Amber’s.” She grinned sheepishly at him. “You know, I don’t normally let strange men hold me.”

She felt, more than heard, his chuckle as it rumbled through her again. Everything feminine in her tingled. And, ooh, the ripple of the muscles in his torso as he moved made all her sexual synapses fire. She could feel herself getting wet and prayed that he couldn’t feel the crotch of her panties against his lap.

“Crap, I’m just laying here in my underwear. I can’t make myself get up, though. You’re so warm and comfortable. How big are you anyway?”

He stilled, then sat up straighter. He could feel the blood surge from his extremities into his cock, as it slammed against her hip with bruising force. She gasped.

He cursed quietly and choked out, “Excuse me?”

Good Lord.
She’d been on deadline from her publishing house since Valentine’s Day, and she’d sorely missed dating when she had her nose to the grindstone. She chose to ignore her flub, though her face was beet red and she was stuttering horribly. She tucked her head beneath his chin, laying it against his shoulder and closed her eyes.

When she finally got her mouth under control she said, “You know, I do remember Amber telling me that Andy’s brother would be staying here for a few weeks to—what word did she use? Oh, yeah—to decompress. Whatever that means. You’re a detective, right? Undercover or something.”

She could feel the subtle tension vibrating through him. He tightened his hold and stood up.

“I’ll help you get back downstairs,” he said briskly. The upward motion threw off her equilibrium, bringing an unexpected rush of nausea. She made a gurgling sound in her throat and put a death grip around his neck.

He let out a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry, Janie,” he crooned softly. “I should have moved slower.” He settled back into the chair and rearranged her long limbs around his torso and lap so she could get comfortable. “How about we just rest here for a few more minutes.”

She concentrated on breathing slowly and steadily, and
not
puking on the sexy man she was sitting on. She just wanted to lie down and sleep. For about a week. She concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths.

“I haven’t been sleeping well lately,” he said, “so the company will be nice. Just close your eyes, honey.” He slouched down lower, settling on the curve of his spine so she had a little more space across his body. His wrapped his arm around her waist to cushion her back from the arm of the chair, and when she shifted a little, the sleek curves of her bottom and thighs wedged tighter against the vee of his thighs. God, she really was riding his cock now. He broke out in a sweat, and shifted a bit so she could straighten out her legs. He closed his eyes and rubbed his big hand gently along her back and hip, watching her settle down.

Man, it was like petting a woman-sized pussy cat … though he was far more interested in the pussy than the cat. He snickered, but lifted his hand and did it again and again until she finally drifted off to sleep. He was going to have to watch his step—he’d come to North Carolina to get away from the dangerous life he’d been leading for the last two years, not to get laid. But more than that, he needed to make sure nothing happened to her. Though he’d been celibate since accepting the cartel assignment, he was determined to claim her. But she owned the house and lived downstairs and he couldn’t bring trouble to her.