Run the Risk (3 page)

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Authors: Lori Foster

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Fiction

BOOK: Run the Risk
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A handshake she could handle. It was civilized. Socially
acceptable.

But he’d done her in even then, lifting her hand, pressing his
firm mouth to her palm. Inundated with the sensations all over again, she curled
her fingers and groaned.

When her phone beeped, she jumped, then quickly sat up. No one
had her number—except Rowdy.

She turned on a light, pressed a button on the phone and put it
to her ear. “Hey.”

“Did I wake you?”

“No.” They both kept strange hours, but even if they didn’t,
Rowdy would always call when others least expected it. Because it was always a
looming threat, she asked, “Is anything wrong?”

“You had company.”

She gulped. How did he find that out so quickly? “A
neighbor.”

“A man.”

Since Rowdy actually owned the apartment building, buying it
outright under yet another alias, she could understand his consternation. “I
don’t know too much about him—”

“But you had him over anyway?”

She understood his incredulity. “It’s not like that. His name
is Logan Stark and for some reason…” Well, she couldn’t just tell her brother
that Logan hit on her. That’d not only infuriate him, it’d also make him as
suspicious as she was. “He wanted to share dinner, that’s all.”

Cold silence.

“C’mon, Rowdy,” she cajoled. “I’m careful, you know that.”

“You’re playing with fire.”

Maybe. “It’s not a big deal. Dinner, that’s all.”

“Then tell me why.”

She shrugged to herself. “I wondered the same thing. It’s not
like I’d be appealing to him.”

He cursed low. “I didn’t mean that.”

“You did,” she corrected. “But it’s okay. A low profile is
what’s most important, right?”

“I don’t like it.”

“There’s not much you do like these days.” She sighed, feeling
for her brother, worried about him, and so tired of all the subterfuge. “Please,
believe me, Rowdy. I won’t take any risks.”

“Maybe not on purpose, but that was a risk you took last night,
so I’m going to check into him.”

Hmm… “Maybe you could find out where he works.”

“Ask him,” Rowdy said. “We’ll see if what he says to you meshes
with what I find.”

“All right.” If the opportunity presented itself, she could try
a little prying.

“Give me a week or two to find out what I can about him. Until
then, watch your ass.”

Of course she would. Not like anyone else was watching it.
Well, except her brother—and she could do with a little less vigilance from him,
especially now that Logan was in the picture. “Love you, Rowdy.”

His voice softened. “Love you, too, kid.” And then, right
before he hung up, he admonished, “Behave.”

Pepper put the phone back on her nightstand. It would be so
nice to visit with Rowdy, to spend an entire day with him. But he wouldn’t allow
it.

She understood why, but that didn’t stop her from missing him,
more and more each day.

It saddened her, but as she tried to get to sleep, it was Logan
she thought of, not her brother.

And that disturbed her most of all.

* * *

O
N
THE
THIRD
FLOOR
of his exclusive, all-service
club, Morton Andrews held court. Idiots surrounded him, but they were his
idiots, loyal to him, afraid of his influence, so he tolerated them.

He eyed the cop who’d just entered. No, he wouldn’t offer a
seat. He’d show no courtesy at all.

Cops had to remember their place—as hired help. “Is it true
that Rowdy Yates has turned up?”

Surprise showed, but then was quickly covered. “Where did you
hear that?”

Interesting. So maybe there was some truth to it. “You forget
my many tentacles? I have ears everywhere. You know that.”

A nod of acknowledgment. “Yes, I know that.”

Morton accepted he had few virtues, and patience definitely
wasn’t one of them. “Well?”

“There’s nothing concrete on Rowdy.”

It irked him sometimes, that cool confidence, the near disdain.
Others cowered around him. Others understood the threat. But not this one.
“You’ll let me know when there is?”

“Of course.”

Truth, or false assurances? Didn’t matter. In his own way, and
in his own time, Morton knew he’d get to the bottom of it. For now, it amused
him to let the illusion of trust exist. “All right, then.” And just to be a
prick, he said, “You can go now.”

Taking the dismissal with no show of insult, the cop turned and
left.

Morton shook his head. To his way of thinking, the only good
cop was dirty—or dead. He’d yet to decide the fate of this one. But soon…

* * *

F
OR
THREE
DAYS
, Logan kept his distance. It wasn’t easy, but
he wanted Pepper to think about him, to anticipate seeing him. Anticipation
could break down her barriers, and that’s what he needed.

After spending the day working for his brother Dash, he’d
expended a lot of tension. Physical labor always did that for him. Sunshine,
sweat, using his hands, working his shoulders and thighs…he enjoyed it.

Likely Dash did as well, which would explain why he’d not only
bought the company, but worked alongside the laborers on a regular basis.

There’d been a lot of concrete work throughout the afternoon.
Sweat flattened his hair to his head and kept his T-shirt glued to his back.
Everywhere he stepped, his dusty boots left footprints. Too much sun made his
face feel tight.

And still he loved it.

Dash had the right idea. Make his own way doing good, honest
labor, and build a great reputation at the same time.

It didn’t hurt that the construction company gave Logan great
cover. No one knew he and Dash were related, so no one paid him any attention.
On the construction site, he was just one more grunt, there to help with the
physical workload.

Just as he reached his door, Pepper’s opened.

Satisfaction burned in his gut.

He glanced up, saw her standing there uncertainly, and smiled.
“Hey, Sue.” He continued to unlock his door, pushed it open. “What’s up?”

“I, ah…”

He glanced at her again, a brow raised.

“I haven’t seen you for a few days.”

“Been working.” He leaned in the door to drop a thermos and
hard hat. “That’s how construction is. You don’t work for a month, then you’re
nonstop busy for a while.”

“Construction?” She eased farther into the hallway.

Seeing this as a prime opportunity, Logan rubbed the back of
his neck tiredly. “Yeah.” He gestured. “You want to come in? I need to shower
and grab some dinner, but then we can visit.”

“Oh.” Shaking her head, she retreated a step. “No, I—”

Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he reached for her, caught her
hand, and pulled her forward into the hall and then into his apartment. “I only
need a few minutes. What’d you have planned for dinner? I’m starving.”

Not the most subtle hint, but maybe she’d be female enough to
pick up on it and take pity on him.

“I was going to order a pizza.” She looked around his apartment
with interest but jumped when he closed the door. Apprehension welled up. “I
should go.”

“I’d rather you stay.” He dropped down to his couch but didn’t
lean back into the cushions, not with his shirt damp through and through. He
began unlacing his work boots. “I’d put off the shower, but I’m a sweaty mess.
It’s bad enough that it’s in the nineties, but add in the humidity, and it was
miserable today.”

“Yes.”

At that faint agreement, he looked at her, found her staring at
his shoulders, and smiled. “I probably smell like a locker room.”

Her face again warmed, and she breathed, “No.”

Logan reveled in her response. Had he reduced her to one word
replies? Just to keep her tongue-tied, he stood and pulled off his shirt.

Her jaw loosened, and she drew in a shuddering breath.

Damn, could a woman be more enticing? More in need of a long
hard ride? She damn near fainted when he reached past her to set his boots on
the floor inside the door.

Close to her, crowding her a little, he emptied his pockets on
the table, setting out his wallet, cell phone and some change. “Stay put, okay?
I’ll be right back.”

She stared at his throat.

Remember what you’re doing.
Giving
her a verbal nudge, Logan whispered, “Sue?”

Her gaze jumped up to his.

“Tell me you’ll be here when I get out of the shower.”

“Yes.” She nodded slowly. “I’ll be here.”

He couldn’t resist touching her, but because he was a mess, he
used only his baby finger to stroke her warm, downy cheek. Then, before he lost
it, he said, “Make yourself at home,” and turned to head into the bathroom.

He hoped she would use the time alone to snoop a little; it was
why he’d left his wallet and second cell phone sitting right there. Anything she
found would only reinforce his cover.

Scrubbing head to toe, he removed the grime even as the cool
water helped to temper his explosive lust.

Not that he should have been exploding with lust. It made no
sense. This was a job, just like any other. His association with her was a means
to an end, and Pepper Yates, aka Sue Meeks, was as far from a femme fatale as a
woman could get.

But knowing she waited in the other room left him half hard,
his guts knotted and his balls tight.

Shit.

In a hurry to get back to her, he turned off the shower and
dried. Now that he’d gotten her into his place, he didn’t want her to turn tail
and run before he could take advantage of the situation and advance his
goal.

But as he walked back in, snapping his jeans along the way, he
found her still at the door, his belongings untouched, her expression a little
lost. It appeared she hadn’t moved an inch. Hell, it almost looked as if she
held her breath.

New sensations tensed his muscles. He didn’t know for sure what
he felt, but he felt it in spades, unsettling and blistering hot.

Without saying a word, their gazes locked, he approached her.
For several seconds they stood there, staring at each other while the charge
between them arced and crackled, growing stronger with each beat of his
heart.

Softly, he said, “You look ready to bolt.”

She rolled in her lips and shook her head.

Because he couldn’t not touch her, Logan put a hand to the top
of her head. Her hair was silky soft, warm. He stroked back to her nape, and
then down the length of that long ponytail, stopping with his hand open on the
small of her back. “Everything okay?”

“Yes.” Then, as he nudged her closer, she blurted, “I hadn’t
heard from you…”

His strategy had obviously worked—so then why did he feel like
such a prick? “After working on the construction site, I came home each day
pretty beat.”

“I didn’t mean… You don’t owe me anything.”

Her vulnerability chewed on his conscience. “No?”

Without his urging, she drew closer, her attention on his
mouth. “I just… You had said…so I thought…” She clamped her mouth closed and
squeezed her eyes shut. “Never mind.”

“I gave you my number,” he reminded her.

Her tone now more strident, she shot right back, “I told you I
wouldn’t call.”

So she had.

He probably should’ve kissed her already to avoid this little
conflict.

Better late than never.

But he didn’t take her mouth. Instead, he lowered his head and
brushed a kiss over her heated cheek, down to her firm jaw, and then to the side
of her silken neck.

She locked her hands behind her, confounding him.

“You smell good, Sue.” He nuzzled her ear, filling his lungs
with her scent. “Like sunshine.”

“I was outside.” Breathless, she added, “The building has
termites.”

“Yeah?” He didn’t give a damn. His hand on her back contracted;
she felt supple, trim, but so soft.

“I had to meet with the exterminator.” She tipped her head to
make it easier for him to get to her throat. “We were outside for over an
hour.”

This dump had an exterminator? Okay, so he’d never seen any
bugs, it still surprised him. “Thanks for taking care of that.”

“I probably need a shower, too.”

“No.” He opened his mouth on her throat, moved his tongue over
her, tasting her skin, licking her, then whispering in her ear, “But you could
have showered with me if you’d—”

She left his arms so quickly, it took him a second to figure
out what had happened.

She had that deer caught in the headlights look about her.

Time to regroup.

Pretending he hadn’t panicked her, Logan said, “You mentioned
ordering pizza.” He took a step back, giving her some space so she could breathe
easier. “How about I pay, and we can eat here?”

Indecision kept her on the edge of retreat. “I didn’t mean to
intrude.”

“You’d be doing me a favor.” When she hesitated, he handed her
his phone. “Go ahead and order it. I’ll get us something to drink in the
meantime.”

He walked away, hoping she’d settle down and stay with him—but
prepared to go after her if she didn’t.

Then he heard her soft voice ordering the pizza, loaded, just
as he liked it.

He got out glasses. “You want a beer or a Coke?”

She looked at his beer with longing, but said, “A Coke,
please.”

Another mystery. If she wanted a beer, why not say so? Did she
think it unladylike—or did she worry that alcohol, even a simple beer, would
lower her resistance, maybe allow her to divulge secrets better kept
concealed?

Logan disliked her brother more by the minute. “Over ice?”

She nodded.

“How long for the pizza? I’m starved.”

“Fifteen minutes or so.” She inched closer. “They’re just
around the corner.”

“Good to know.”

“You can also get Thai and Chinese pretty quickly. And hoagies
or chili only takes half an hour.”

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