The Hill. Carol Ericson
woman coughed behind him and he spun around and strode back to her. The sparkly material of her gown was twisted around her legs and she couldn’t stand. He scooped her up and set her on her impossibly high heels. No wonder she couldn’t run away from her assailant.
She brushed strands of blond hair from her face. That silvery hair seemed to be the only source of light in the alley—that and the sparkles on her black dress and at her throat.
She coughed again, swore like a sailor and spit onto the concrete. “My God, if he wanted the necklace, why didn’t he just ask?”
Judd found himself looking into the perfect face of London Breck, a little disheveled and mad as hell, but those qualities only seemed to enhance her beauty.
Her eyes widened and sparkled, matching the diamonds around her neck in brilliance. “You!”
“What the hell are you doing out here in the alley?” He bent over and swept her handbag from the ground. Odd the thief hadn’t snatched that.
She grabbed it from him and folded her arms over her body. “Waiting for my driver. You?”
“Waiting for Bunny Harris’s driver.”
She swayed toward him and he caught her before she toppled over. She smelled...expensive, except for the odor of leather coming from her jacket. Who wore a jacket like that with a haute couture evening dress?
“Whoa.” He pointed to her feet. “If you hope to stand upright on your own, you’d better straighten out that dress.”
“I hate long dresses.” She leaned forward and placed her hands on either side of a hole in her dress below her knees and pulled it apart.
The bottom part of her dress, which seemed to be made of different material from the top, ripped off, and she dropped the silky material, which probably cost more than his motorcycle, into a puddle in the alley.
“There.” She thrust out her hand. “London Breck. Thanks for saving me from whatever that was.”
“Judd Brody.” He clasped her long, slim fingers in his hand, but if he expected a limp, girly handshake from her, he was wrong. She gave his hand a firm squeeze and dropped it.
“That was a robbery, wasn’t it?” His gaze shifted to the bright bauble stuck on her right ring finger and the diamond bracelet now peeking from the cuff of the jacket.
She trailed her fingers across her throat. “At first I thought he wanted my necklace, but he was using it to choke me and drag me. He was pulling me to that waiting car.”
“A kidnapping?” He lifted one eyebrow. “I suppose you’re worth a few bucks.”
She snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. My cousin wouldn’t pay one dime for my release, and I’m sure my board of directors would be happy to get rid of me.”
A black limo pulled into the alley, bathing it in bright light. Judd cupped a hand over his eyes and squinted.
The car door swung open and a massive figure rolled from the car. “Miss Breck? Are you all right? I’m sorry I’m late. I had a little mishap on the way over.”
She waved. “I’m fine, Theodore. Mr. Brody here rescued me from a would-be robber.”
“What?” Theodore waddled toward them. “I told you not to be waiting in this alley.”
“I expected you to be right here to whisk me away.” She patted the big man’s arm. “Not that I blame you, Theodore. Sh—stuff happens.”
Theodore grabbed Judd’s hand and shook his arm as if he wanted to yank it off. “Thank you, sir.”
Another limo pulled into the alley and honked.
“Now, who is that?” Theodore tugged his cap over his eyes to shield out his headlights.
“I believe that’s Ms. Harris’s driver for me.” Judd straightened his jacket and patted the hidden jewels.
Theodore tilted his head at him. “You one of Bunny’s young men?”
London coughed and clapped a hand over her mouth. As long as Theodore had been working for the upper crust of the city, he’d never learned to filter his speech. She liked that.
“God, no. I’m working for her tonight...as a bodyguard.”
“Can I buy you a drink?” London sniffed and ran her hand beneath her nose. “It’s the least I can do. Theodore can take us.”
“That I can,” her driver added.
A drink with the rich and beautiful London Breck? Why not? Another way to make his older brothers jealous.
“Sure.”
“I’ll go tell Bunny’s driver. I know him.” Theodore turned and made his way down the alley, momentarily blocking out the headlights and casting him into darkness again with London.
She suddenly looked vulnerable with her silvery-blond hair half-down on one side and her ripped couture dress.
Judd tapped his neck. “Are you okay?”
“Throat’s a little rough, but I’ll live.”
“Do you want to report it to the cops?”
“Did you get a license plate or a good look at the driver or my attacker?”
“The car didn’t have a license plate and the driver was wearing a ski mask just like your assailant’s, except for the white zigzag down the front.”
“Then, no. I don’t need the publicity.”
Theodore shifted his formidable presence to the side and the headlights lit up the alley again. The beams picked up London’s sparkles—her hair, her jewels, her dress—and she blazed to life. How had he ever imagined this woman had one vulnerable bone in her body?
“You get a lot of that, don’t you? Publicity, I mean.”
Spreading her hands, she shrugged. “Comes with the territory.”
Theodore called from behind her, “I sent Mrs. Harris’s driver away. Are you ready, Miss Breck?”
“After the night I just had? You bet.”
She spun around on her high heels and picked her way through the puddles in the alley to the waiting town car.
Judd’s gaze locked onto her swaying hips in the glittering material below the bomber jacket and the endless legs below the jagged hem of the skirt. London had a tall, slim build, but he wouldn’t call her skinny.
Wouldn’t kick her out of bed, either.
He motioned for the driver to get in the car first and held open the door as Theodore squeezed behind the wheel. Judd slammed the door after Theodore and ducked into the backseat.
It smelled like brand-new leather, which felt as smooth as butter beneath his fingertips as he adjusted himself on the seat next to London.
The glass between the front and backseats slid open. “Where to, Miss Breck?”
“How about Sneaky Pete’s in the Lower Haight?”
“I don’t think it’s very safe down there, Miss Breck.”
“I’m going to be with Bunny Harris’s bodyguard, and he’s—” she patted his chest “—packing heat.”
“It’s that obvious?”
“To the practiced eye.” With her hand still on his chest, she ran those practiced eyes down to his thighs and a slow heat simmered his blood.
“And here I thought we were headed someplace upscale and trendy.”
“I just want a quiet drink. Disappointed?” She snatched her hand back and dropped it into her lap where her ripped dress had ridden up, exposing