Rush (7 page)

Mi wandered over to the window and looked out. Forty-two floors was a long way up… or down, depending on your perspective. Lucas came up behind her, but didn’t touch her. Warmth radiated off him and into her.

“I bought the place for the view.” His voice lowered, sending a deep rumbling through her. He was so
close
.

“It’s beautiful.” Her words came out breathless, almost sultry.

He traced a finger down the side of her throat. “Hmm, it is.”

She had a sudden vision of him pressing her against the glass, lifting her skirt and tracing kisses along the line his finger had drawn. He’d take her hard and fast, right there while the whole city watched, her palms sliding down the panes. She swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to lift her skirt for him and beg him to do it. She wanted to lose herself in the mindless give and take, the blinding, driving need. For just a moment, she wanted something for her. To come apart in arms that would support her when she came back together, back to herself.

She took a sliding step to the side and spun away from him. This was not for her. He was not for her. She had to remind herself that this man was a stranger, paid to protect her and nothing more.

“You must be tired.” She could hear the rejection in his voice as though he might have been having similar thoughts.

She cleared her throat, hoping to clear away the need that threatened to swallow her whole. “It is late. And I have a show tomorrow.”

“Of course. I’ll take you to your room.” He grabbed her bag from the chair where he’d dropped it earlier and proceeded down the hall to the right.

Mi followed him past two doors to a set of double doors. Lucas opened one, not stopping to see if she followed. The bedroom was nearly as large as the living room with two full walls of windows in an L shape. The large bed sat on a platform positioned for a perfect view of the Dallas skyline.

Lucas sat her bag on the bed, then disappeared through yet another door. Mi followed, stopping short at the entrance to a closet. Shirts, jackets, trousers, and suits lined the walls broken only by a bank of drawers and a section of tilted shelves that displayed shoes of every kind.

“This is your room.”

Lucas continued to go through drawers, pulling clothing out. “Yes.”

“I can’t… that is… you don’t expect…”

Lucas looked up from his task, then in two steps he was standing in front of her. She almost backed away on instinct. He placed a hand on the doorway above her head and bent down to her.

His gaze pinned her in place, his words flowing over her like warm honey. “No, I don’t expect.” His voice dropped to a whisper that stroked her senses as if he’d touched her. “I want.”

Heat shot straight through her and with nothing more than his words she was wet and pulsing with need for him. Her nipples chapped against the fabric of her shirt, heightening her excitement. She pressed her legs together, holding in the sensation.

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss at the corner of her mouth. “But not tonight.” He pushed off the doorframe and went back to his task, collecting what he needed.

“But this is your room,” she whispered, not trusting her full voice.

“And the one furthest from the front door. I need to be between you and whatever may come.” He gathered the pile he’d assembled and came toward her, backing her into the bedroom.

She followed him back down the hall, curious to see where he’d go. Not that she cared. She really shouldn’t care. It was just that she needed to know where he was in case of whatever might come. At least that’s what she told herself. He went into the room closest to the living area and furthest from his bedroom. Another wall of windows spanned this bedroom, a guest room from the look of it.

Lucas set his things on the dresser and turned to her. “Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

“No.” Not for food anyway.

“Then off to bed with you.”

He gripped her by the shoulders, spun her around, and marched her back down the hall to his bedroom. At the door he moved his hands up, cupping her face, his fingers tangling in her hair. Then with his eyes on hers he bent down and gave her the most chaste goodnight kiss, the first date kind.

“Goodnight,
querida
.” He closed the door with a quiet snick, leaving a void of warmth in his wake.

Mi leaned against the door, pressing her face to the paneled wood, and smoothed her hands over it, as she would like to have touched him. When he was there she felt safe and overwhelmed all at once. With him gone the room felt vast and empty.
She
felt empty. Mi wrenched herself from the door, feeling silly and lonely, and forced herself to go through the routine of getting ready for bed. It was nearly midnight, but she wasn’t tired. After brushing her teeth and changing into a nightgown she examined the bed, certain she’d need to take a running jump at it.

Instead she went to the closet. The light flickered on automatically revealing a neatness that bordered on military precision. Each hanger was spaced equal distance from the other, the shoes rivaled a store display, and there wasn’t a speck of dust or stray sock to be found. She wondered if he’d notice if she changed things around or moved a few hangers so their spacing was more random. Once the thought struck, she couldn’t get it out of her head. She tapped a hanger closer to its neighbor, then switched two of the shirts. Smiling to herself, she felt oddly relieved as though she and Lucas were now on a more even keel. He needed a little chaos in his life. Lord knew she had that in abundance.

Mi wandered back into the bedroom and turned out the lights. The skyline illuminated the room, lengthening the shadows, lending a coolness to the space that would have been romantic if she had someone to share it with. She climbed into the bed and settled amongst the pillows. Sleep eluded her, her thoughts jumbling and crashing into each other, replaying scenes from the day over and over.

After a half hour she gave up and padded out into the living space, looking for the kitchen and hopefully a glass of warm milk. She stopped when she heard Lucas murmuring, then tip-toed further down the hall until she could see him sitting on the floor in front of the sharp-looking sofa group. He faced the window, his back to her. She thought he might be on the phone and turned to go back to her bedroom when his voice startled her.

“Can’t sleep,
querida
?”

The man had supernatural hearing. Mi inched her way into the room, stopping when the sofa blocked her way.

Lucas looked over his shoulder at her. “Come here. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Mi didn’t know what to expect so when she caught sight of the small fluff of orange fur cupped in his large hands, she gasped and rushed over for a closer look.

Lucas held his hands out to her. “Want to hold him?”

Dropping to her knees, Mi looked into the bright blue eyes of the little orange kitten and her heart melted. She scooped him out of Lucas’s hands. “Oh! He’s purring.” She hugged the kitten close to her body. Gently stroking his head, she marveled at how soft his fur was.

If Lucas had known what kind of miracle Mi’s smile was, he would have carried a dozen kittens in his pockets just to see it every day. She looked up at him with the most amazing expression, her amber eyes crinkling at the corners. His heart did a slow roll in his chest and he swallowed hard, his palms growing damp. If he’d thought her pretty before, he was wrong. When she truly smiled, she was luminous. The simple joy of holding a kitten radiated from her into him and he felt like a teenager on the verge of his first kiss.

“Where’d you get him?” Mi asked, cradling the kitten against her chest.

“Found him on the side of the road a couple of blocks away.”

“A stray. You poor thing.” She snuggled the cat closer. “What’s his name?”

Lucas would have given anything to trade places with that cat and felt a bit stupid for having the thought. “Gooch,” he answered.

Mi’s brows dipped. “Why did you name him Gooch?”

“He reminds me of a friend I had.”

“You had a friend named
Gooch
?”

“It was what everyone called him.”

“Why does he remind you of your friend?”

Lucas took the opportunity to scoot closer to Mi, stroking a finger over the kitten’s head and down his back. “Gooch had orange hair that stuck up all over his head when it grew long and huge blue eyes.” Lucas chuckled at the memory that still carried the pang of loss. “His eyes were so big and round they looked like marbles. Just like this guy’s.”

“What happened to him?” Mi asked her tone hushed as if she was afraid to tread on bad memories.

“He was killed during the same mission that earned me a ticket home.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“What happened?”

Lucas looked away and out into the night as if the lights that twinkled back at him could relieve the misery of that night a year ago. “He took a bullet meant for me.” There was more, the blood flowing over his hands as he held the pieces of his friend’s skull together. The tufts of orange hair matted with blood and brain matter. And the blank, far-away look in those big, too fucking trusting, blue eyes.

“I’m so, so sorry.”

Lucas looked down at Mi’s hand gripping his forearm, then up into golden eyes wide with sympathy and something more… understanding maybe. She’d known loss. He could see it in the honest way she looked at him. Knowing they shared that, gave him more comfort than her words. If she had been anyone else he would have brushed her off with something glib like
It was a long time ago
, but that wouldn’t be fair to either of them.

“I miss him,” he said simply, reaching out to stroke the cat again.

She didn’t comment, just let the words hang in the air between them. The silence she lent him soaked up some of the grief. She didn’t give him platitudes or try to tell him it was God’s way or some other kind of bullshit like that. She let him have the moment to miss his friend.

Mi smoothed her hand away, her attention once again on the kitten. “I knew you’d been in the military. What branch?”

“Navy. SEALS.”

“Huh, I would have figured you for a Marine.”

“Those girls?”

“My father was a Marine.”

“Damn,” Lucas said. “Sorry. No offense to your father.”

Mi laughed and Lucas thought it was the most incredible sound he’d ever heard. He felt a little bit light headed when he was with her, as though the air was somehow thinner in the space around her.

“None taken,” she replied.

“Where does he live, your father?”

“He died when I was two.”

“Now I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

She shrugged it off, but Lucas felt her decades old pain as if it was his own. He wanted to reach out, touch her, but she’d tucked herself up tight. Her legs bent under her, her arms close to her body.

She sighed and bent her head towards the kitten. “I look like my father, I think. He named me after his Japanese mother.”

“I’d wondered about that. And Price-Jones?”

“Welsh. On his father’s side.”

“What about your mother?” Lucas asked.

Mi shifted and if he hadn’t been watching her so closely he might have missed the look of regret that flashed across her face. “She lives in Garland.”

“Any other siblings besides your brother Jason?”

“I think he’s asleep.”

Lucas looked down at the kitten curled up her hands. He let her change the subject and gazed out at the skyline, content just to be near her.

Mi adjusted her position, drawing his attention back to her. She sat Indian-style, pulling her plain cotton nightgown over her knees, creating a cradle in the hollow between her legs for the kitten. When she’d settled him she met Lucas’s gaze and gave him a small smile.

“How’d you go from being a Navy SEAL to being a bodyguard?”

Lucas rubbed his thigh, extending his legs out in front of him, his bare feet pressing against the window. If he leaned a little closer to her it was no accident. “I didn’t. I’m not.”

She pulled back a little, frowning. “Then what’s this?”

“I’m doing a favor for Cal while I’m between jobs.”

“What do you mean a favor?”

Lucas stretched his arms out across the seat of the sofa. He lifted the ends of Mi’s hair between his fingers, mesmerized by its softness. “I owed Cal a favor and had the skill set to do the job so I took it.”

“Must have been a huge debt you owed.”

“It was.”

She looked as though she’d inquire further, then changed her mind, gazing out at the view. He watched her, absorbing everything about her. The scent of her, lighter now, but still hers. The way her nightgown dipped down between her breasts, the thin cotton clinging to her hardened nipples. The red painted toes peeking out from beneath her knees. The way she absently petted the kitten as she looked out into the night. He wanted to touch her, bring her attention back to him. But then he wouldn’t be so free to let his gaze roam over her.

“I’ve heard it before, but what does
querida
mean?”

He hadn’t realized she’d turned her head to look at him. He’d been so focused on her breasts poking against the fabric of her gown, wondering if she was cold or something more.

“Darling, dear, beloved,” he answered softly.

Her eyes grew wider, darker and her tongue swept across her bottom lip. “Oh.”

He brought the hand that had been playing with her hair up to her nape, cradling the back of her head in his hand. Bringing her closer, he leaned down, his focus on her lips and the way they parted, inviting him. She tilted her face up to his, a further invitation. And that was all he needed. As their lips met, he thrilled with the satisfaction that she could be his.

She moaned, winding her arms around his neck, her fingers threading through the hair at his nape. His other hand went to her knee, the thin cotton covering it was no barrier for him. In a flash, he slipped beneath it to the smooth skin of her thigh. He explored her mouth, tracing his tongue over her lips, dipping inside. She let out a soft sound of pleasure when he sucked on her lower lip, his hand at the curving the underside of her breast.