Justice Hunter. Jennifer Morey
he wanted to know more, even, perhaps, that he found her reluctance suspect.
While his wariness of her remained intact, her golden-brown eyes kept flashing up to his—strong, unflinching and magnetizing. Her beauty threw him off when he least needed.
The limo came to a stop in front of her apartment building. Cracked concrete, missing bricks, boarded-up windows and next to no exterior lighting brought the gentleman out in him. Frustrated or not, he couldn’t allow her to walk to her apartment alone at this time of night.
“I’ll walk you.”
“No need. Thanks for dinner.” She opened the car door.
Lucas got out with her, stopping the driver from doing so, as well. His long strides easily caught up to her as she headed for the front doors.
“I can handle myself just fine,” she said.
She must have lived like this for a long time to say something like that. Ignoring her, he opened one of the doors for her, not seeing a doorman anywhere, or even anyone at the enclosed desk.
She went to the elevators, facing him after pressing the up button. “You can go now.”
He couldn’t leave on a note like this, with her bothered by his probing and him bothered by her secrecy. “The door isn’t locked. Anyone can come in here.”
“Of course they can. This isn’t Manhattan.”
The elevator doors opened. Rachel got in and reached for the close button, but he stepped in before she could shut him out.
She moved to the back and leaned with her arms folded, her avoidance in talking about her past hanging between them. If he was going to win her trust he had to ease up on her, and maybe lighten the mood. Even dressed conservatively in a knee-length, slightly flaring gray skirt and white, ruffle-collared blouse, she looked sexy. Silky brunette hair draped over her shoulders to the tops of her round breasts. Her outfit didn’t conceal her curves. Lucas doubted anything would do that. She’d have to be wearing a bag for that to happen.
He noticed how she became aware of his inspection, a warming one, and she responded. He loved how she did that, such an unconscious reaction. Her instincts kicked in and their attraction heated the elevator. He took a step toward her just as the doors opened.
Grinning, he offered her to precede him. With the tiniest of smiles, she did. One small step toward winning her back over to his side.
He glanced at her on the way to her apartment. She noticed, and the physical awareness worked in his favor. Even if she sidestepped him with her secrets, a baser part of her had other ideas. At her door, she faced him.
“Well, here I am,” she said. “Safe and sound.”
He stepped forward, testing her space. Her eyes grew less playful, but heated curiosity remained. Never before had he deliberately kissed a woman. He’d always waited for the right moment. Not this time.
She put her hand on his chest, and for a moment he thought she’d refuse him. “Are you always this pushy with women?”
“Is this pushy?” He leaned in slowly, watching her eyes, feeling her hands press firmer on his chest, but not enough to pass as refusal. He hovered over her mouth just in case. Those golden-brown orbs blinked. Softly, he caressed at first, moving over her lips awhile before reaching with his tongue to ask for entry.
She parted her lips, and he kissed her as expertly as he could. He put all his experience into this kiss. A lot rode on its success. But as she responded with a warm sigh and an answering tongue, he lost control. No longer deliberate, desire made him slide his arm down to her rear and angle his head for a deeper connection. The sweet confection of her mouth, the soft curves of her breasts now crushed against him, the feel of her firm butt in his palm, all swarmed into his consciousness, obliterating reason.
Nearly a full minute later, he withdrew, so inflamed he didn’t think he could step back and leave. No, he wanted to go inside with her.
He stood breathing with her, his forehead against hers.
She tipped her face up, and he found himself kissing her again. Blood rushed to his groin. Already hard from the first kiss, he could burst now.
“Let me in,” he said, kissing down her neck to the top of her blouse.
“Oh,” she breathed. “I don’t even know you.”
“We can talk first.” He came back up to her mouth. “Maybe.”
She laughed with him, deep, sultry sounds. Then she turned in his arms and unlocked her door while he kissed her neck. She managed to get the door open and he followed her inside.
Those few seconds opened enough clarity for him to slow down. As she backed up with fiery eyes cooling, he could see she’d begun to simmer down, as well.
“Uh... Coffee?”
“Sure.” He followed her into her kitchen, just a couple steps from the entrance. A two-chair table took up most of the small dining area. Her apartment was little more than a hotel room, with a daybed on one side of the studio and living area on the other.
Rachel went about preparing a pot of coffee. “You never did tell me why you quit the SEAL training.”
For a moment he wondered if she’d asked on purpose, digging for the most personal information on him. To douse the passion? How could she know the weight of her question? He considered doing as she’d done, blatantly changing the subject. But then he’d lose ground in winning her trust.
Clamping down angst, he said as neutrally as he could, “I got married.”
Rachel paused in her task to look back at him. “Didn’t she support your wishes?”
“She told me she was pregnant. I didn’t want to quit, but I didn’t want to have a baby and be gone all the time. My plan was to work as a SEAL for a few years and then settle down. I thought being careless with her was just as much my fault as hers.” He wished he didn’t have to continue.
The coffee had begun to brew, the rich aroma filling the apartment. Rachel got out two cups and put them down.
“What happened?” she asked when he didn’t go on.
Bitterness welled up as always when he thought of this. Was telling her worth using it to gain her trust? Luella’s smiling face and laughter came to him, a memory of the time when they were kids and she threw water balloons at him. He’d just come home from his job as a burger-flipper, his first one. He’d had a really bad day and yearned for college so he could get away from fast food. As soon as he’d gotten out of the old Camaro, she’d sprung out from the garage with an armful of balloons. She’d dropped some, but a couple had gotten him good.
He’d found her stash and broke a few of them on her. They’d both been dripping wet by the time they ran out of balloons. That was Luella, spontaneous, worry-free, always looking for her next source of laughter. That day the source had been him.
Later, he’d found out his mother had told her he’d had a rotten day. He’d talked to his mother after he left work because she’d left a message asking him to stop for a pound of hamburger meat for dinner.
He and Luella had been so close growing up. And now she was dead. All her bubbly life had been taken from her.
Yeah. She was worth telling Rachel about his ex-wife.
“After we were married, she told me she wasn’t pregnant. She tried to tell me she had a miscarriage, but when I asked her to show me her medical records, she wouldn’t produce them. That led to a long fight. Finally, she confessed and said the only way I’d marry her is if she told me she was pregnant.”
Rachel’s mouth dropped open, an automatic response.
“I got a divorce,” he said. “But that didn’t get me back in SEAL training.”
Now Rachel shook her head. “Why do people