Body Heat Page 7

  “You have a gym?”

  She wiggled her finger free, and he let her go. For now. “This place has all sorts of amenities. Rina didn’t show you?”

  Brianne shook her head. “Not the gym.”

  “I was hoping she’d venture back into that room again. But it was her husband’s favorite spot and it brings back too many memories.” Brianne’s eyes softened in understanding, and Jake let out a groan. “Come.” He grasped her bag with his good arm, ignoring her glare, feeling certain she wouldn’t get into a tug-of-war with a patient.

  He gestured for her to follow, turned and headed for the incredible home gym his brother-in-law had created, stopping in the doorway. Large windows covered the walls and sunlight bounced off the chrome, state-of-the-art equipment. Where there were no windows there were floor-to-ceiling mirrors instead.

  Brianne came up beside him. He sensed her presence, felt her body heat, and his own temperature rose in response.

  “Nice setup,” she murmured.

  “Personally I prefer the Village Gym.” He turned and saw how impressed she was. “My brother-in-law was more into glitz than necessity, but I can’t deny it’s perfect for what we need.” And the only room in this whole apartment where he felt completely at ease.

  “You don’t live here.” It wasn’t a question, and he wasn’t surprised she’d drawn the correct conclusion. The papers he’d given her outlined his injury and how it was sustained. Common sense dictated a cop couldn’t afford such luxury.

  “Disappointed?” He wished he’d withheld the bitterness from his voice, but the past still lived within him.

  He’d met his ex-wife, Linda, at the city school where she’d been teaching, when he’d shown up for a talk to the kids about the hazards of drug use. They’d hit it off fast, sharing incredible chemistry, great sex and seemingly similar goals and desires. She’d seemed to be in awe of his badge and uniform, and had been more than happy to marry a cop with a steady income, if unpredictable hours. They both wanted to move out of the city, Linda so she could teach in a safer neighborhood, and Jake so he could enjoy a peaceful family life during his off-time.

  But as soon as the honeymoon ended, everything she’d seemed to like and accept in Jake underwent a radical shift. His hours suddenly became too long compared to her friend’s professional husbands, while the money Jake made was insufficient for decorating the home they’d bought in the suburbs. Jake wasn’t a man who liked to overspend or overextend his credit, and for damn sure his salary hadn’t been able to support his wife’s sudden desire to stay at home and shop with the wealthier women she’d met in the area. She sure as hell hadn’t been able to deal with Rina and Robert’s luxurious lifestyle. Jake’s marriage had lasted three increasingly bitter years—years in which he and his wife grew further and further apart. She finally walked out.

  Jake hadn’t realized that the past still haunted him so strongly, until faced with the possibility that Brianne might find him and his lifestyle lacking. Despite her willingness to sacrifice for her brother, why wouldn’t Brianne be impressed with this penthouse and disappointed that Jake wasn’t its owner?

  “Am I disappointed you don’t own this place?” she asked.

  “Or have the money to live here,” he muttered.

  “That’s ridiculous. It’s not like I was after you for money.” What sounded like genuine hurt laced her tone. “It’s not like I was after you at all.”

  Jake chose not to touch that statement, picking up on her emotion instead. He wanted to keep his distance, not hurt her in the process. “My comment was uncalled for.”

  “Is that your masculine way of saying ‘I’m sorry’?” She faced him, her back to the door frame, her hands braced behind her.

  He reached out and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “It’s my way of saying I’m an ass.”

  “I couldn’t have put it better myself.” She laughed, and her breasts pushed temptingly against the soft cotton uniform she wore, rising and falling with each breath she took.

  For a moment, the barriers she’d put up between them were gone, making him want to reach out to her, to hold her in his arms and…Without warning, gut-level fear took hold. He’d had his heart ripped to shreds over his lifestyle and his lack of money once before. He couldn’t go there again.

  Although he had no idea how much money Rina was paying Brianne for her services, for her sacrifice—moving in and devoting her nights—he had no doubt she was being well compensated. And though Brianne’s reasons for needing money were altruistic and good, it didn’t mean that once she’d finished caring for her brother she wouldn’t desire more in life than she’d had before. And “more” demanded money, something a cop would never have in abundance.

  “Would you believe I’m apartment-and dog-sitting for the summer?”

  “Of course. You’ve been set up, just like me.” He didn’t miss the bitterness in her tone.

  Obviously her anger at Rina hadn’t dissipated, and he couldn’t say he blamed her.

  “Speaking of dog-sitting and setups, we need to keep him out of here so neither of us trip.”

  Jake nodded, and because Norton had curled up in his crate while they ate, he was able to shut the gym door without creating a scene.

  “Is there a sink in here?” Brianne asked next.

  He nodded. “There’s a full bathroom back that way.” He gestured to the closed door across the room.

  “How about a…”

  “There’s a massage area in the corner,” he said, reading her mind. “Trust me, there’s nothing you’ll need that you won’t find here.”

  She shook her head, her auburn ponytail falling over one shoulder. “Amazing.”

  He clenched his fists to avoid giving in to the impulse to twirl her hair around his fingers…and feel the silken strands brushing over other aware body parts. Instead he focused on their surroundings and her reaction to them. “It’s called wealth, so enjoy it while it’s at your disposal.”

  “If you say so.” Her smile was wary.

  She grabbed the bag he’d deposited at his feet and headed for the bathroom. Soon the sound of running water reached his ears. His vision of wet heat involved slick bodies—hers and his—in the shower, out of the shower…He didn’t care as long as they were creating that moist, intense heat.

  Friction and pleasure, he thought, and his body shook in reaction. He had to get himself in check. He couldn’t plan strategy or figure out how to keep her in the dark about his ability to move well until he got a feel for what she had in store. Jake had no idea what Brianne’s idea of therapy entailed, but he was about to find out.

  BRIANNE CLOSED HERSELF in the bathroom and breathed deeply. She splashed cold water on her face before setting up her equipment for Jake. She re-entered the room, hoping she was more in control of her physical reactions to him. But she took one look at him fully clothed, realized she hadn’t told him to undress for therapy, and accepted that, given their situation, she’d rarely be in control.

  She sighed, bracing herself for the inevitable. “If we’re going to do this right, you need to take off your shirt.”

  As he reached for the hem of his ragged sweatshirt with one hand, Jake’s eyes sparkled with mischief. He looked like a man who was about to be given his fondest wish, or rather a man who thought he was about to give her her fondest wish, by stripping down in her presence.

  “Get a grip, Don Juan. It’s a purely professional request. I can’t very well heat your shoulder if you’re wearing heavy cotton.”

  He laughed, obviously not the least bit offended. “Are you saying you don’t want to see my bare chest?”

  “I’ve seen enough bare-chested men in my career. I’m sure yours is no different from the rest.” She averted her gaze before he could see the lie in her eyes. His bare chest was spectacular.

  “You wound me.”

  This time she laughed, but at the sound of his groan—definitely one of pain—she pivoted back toward him in time to see him
grimace as he began to remove his shirt with his good hand, with more help than she’d expected from his injured side.

  She wondered what was going on. “You said you haven’t been in therapy.”

  He averted his eyes. “I never actually said that. I have a friend in physical therapy who gave me some exercises and checks in once in a while. I’ve been working the shoulder some.”

  She wasn’t yet sure how much exercise he had or hadn’t been doing, but after a session with him, she would. “Some exercise isn’t enough.”

  He treated her to a sexy wink. “That’s why I have you.”

  “I’m only as good as your willingness to follow through, and you haven’t guaranteed me anything yet.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  “Well, I am.” She stepped forward, intending to get past the word games and get started on the therapy. “If I’m so good, then let me help you get that shirt off.”

  He narrowed his eyes, and Brianne could see the war going on inside him. She’d seen it many times before. Allow help and look weak or continue the struggle alone. Normally she’d let the internal struggle go on until the patient gave in, but she sensed Jake wasn’t one to cave easily. She now understood the reason for the cutoff sweatshirts. They allowed him wide sleeve room, easier movement.

  She had every intention of returning him to full mobility, even if she had to play up to his masculine ego in order to maintain his cooperation. “Come on, Jake. I’m really good with my hands.” Her voice dropped to a husky level despite her best intentions.

  “I just bet you are.” His eyes darkened as he spoke, his voice a deep rumble that set her nerve endings on fire. Her goals, the reasons why she shouldn’t give in to this attraction, diluted each time he got within touching distance.

  Reaching out, she grabbed for the hem of his shirt, her fingers grazing his warm skin. At the contact, his stomach muscles rippled beneath her touch, and he sucked in an audible, affected breath. She understood. Her body reacted in an intimate, sexual way, too. Need curled deep in her belly, and her nipples pulled into tight peaks as if awaiting a lover’s caress.

  Never in her career had a patient session resonated with desire, and her hands shook as she lifted his shirt up and over his head, exposing that exceptional bare chest for view. Heat emanated from his body to hers, drawing her in, enticing her to drop her guard and shed her inhibitions.

  She dropped his shirt instead. And though instinct told her to take a safe step back, she was drawn to him in ways she didn’t understand and ways she wanted to explore more deeply. Slowly, so she didn’t hurt him, she smoothed her palm over his bruised flesh. He let out a drawn-out groan, a rumble that reverberated inside her, and his hands came up to cradle her cheeks. “When you touch me it feels so damn good.”

  Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. “It’s my job to make you feel better.” And it was her job to pull away from him—but the connection was too strong, the need to be with him too compelling.

  “Then, by all means, do your best.” His thumb brushed back and forth over her skin, caressing her face.

  Unable to resist, she leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on the least bruised part of his chest, over his warm flesh.

  “Brianne.” Her name came out both as a warning and a plea.

  The next thing she knew his lips were on hers—or had her lips come to his? She didn’t know, but everything between them was real and mutual, hot and ravenous. His tongue delved inside her mouth with passion and need, taking all she offered and giving even more. He smoothed one hand down her back and over her buttocks, pausing there, stopping to knead her flesh through the barrier of clothing and to pull her so close she could feel his hard erection straining against the confines of his jeans.

  He wanted her. Not that she’d doubted it before—how could she, with the heated stares and longing glances?—but she felt it now and the certainty fueled bravery she hadn’t known she possessed. She trailed a path with her tongue from his lips to his cheek and outward, lingering behind his ear and nibbling on his earlobe until his large, masculine body trembled in response to her touch.

  She inhaled, and his heady scent enveloped her, making her feel, for the first time in her life, that she wasn’t alone. Desire exploded in waves, curling in her stomach, wrapping around her heart and causing her to crave so much more than the fiery touches they’d shared so far. She wanted to feel his bare skin covering hers, needed him inside her to fill the aching emptiness she’d carried for so long. It was an ache that she sensed only he could satisfy.

  And that was the thought that brought her to her senses and forced her to break their electric connection and step back, away from the fire. He was the one person who could take her to soaring heights—and destroy her dreams. Better to concentrate on her tangible goals—finishing this job, being with her brother, moving to California.

  “Wow.” Not exactly a sophisticated response, but Brianne was so shaken up that she couldn’t formulate a better response.

  “That about says it.” Jake ran a trembling hand through his hair. “You okay?”

  He eyed her with a concern she didn’t want to see or feel. Not from him, a man who was the antithesis of everything she desired in life, and that could be summed up in one word: safe.

  She nodded. “Fine. I’m fine,” she lied. “You?”

  A sexy grin curved his lips. “Touch me again and I’ll be even better.”

  “I was asking about the pain in your shoulder.” Two lies in two minutes. And after all her hard work teaching Marc the value of honesty, she thought wryly.

  “If you say so. Look, Brianne, about what just happened…”

  She shook her head. “Forget about it. It was bound to happen and it’s already forgotten.” Another whopper for the books. She’d never forget how warm and welcoming his mouth felt on hers, never truly put his touch behind her. “Let’s just get back to work, shall we? Sit down, and I’ll be right back.”

  To her surprise, he complied, shifting in the leather chair until he found a comfortable position. His gaze never left hers, challenging her. She had a hunch that his sudden cooperation was for her benefit because he sensed how thrown she still was. Brianne didn’t care about the reason; she was just grateful not to have to spar or argue with him at the moment, and she desperately needed a minute alone.

  Ducking into the bathroom, she exhaled deeply and splashed cold water over her face—again. Looking in the mirror, she took in her bright eyes and flushed cheeks. Everything she felt was mirrored in her expression—the desire, the longing. But she couldn’t indulge further any more than she could hide in here forever. Yet, as she headed back into the room, she knew even her coat of professional armor wouldn’t help her now.

  Five minutes later, she had a still-cooperative Jake settled in his seat, wet heat cushioning his neck and shoulders—much the way she desired to cradle him in her arms and ease his pain, she thought, recalling the way he’d winced as she’d positioned him with the padding. Curling her hands around the edge of hard leather, she perched on the seat of a workout machine, dangling her feet while the heat worked on his shoulder.

  Silence surrounded them, and his intense, serious gaze never left hers. She wondered what he was thinking, how that kiss had affected him, and knew she couldn’t afford to find out, not if she intended to walk away unscathed.

  “So how’d you sustain this injury?” She sought conversation that would distract her still-tingling body and remind her of all the reasons she couldn’t let herself get involved with this cop who thrived on danger.

  He leaned his head back against the headrest as if debating what to tell her. “We got a tip on a drug dealer we’d been watching,” he said finally. “Figured we’d catch him in the act. This was a key chance to get him off the street.”

  As he spoke, his eyes began to glitter with remembered determination. He obviously liked his job and fed on the rush of getting the bad guys. Even as disappointment filled her, so did unexpected ad
miration for the man and his work. She might not like what he did for a living, but how could she not respect it? And him?

  “Turns out it was a setup. Our guy showed—with company. Took out a damn good cop. Frank was my football buddy and best friend. A decent guy with a wife and kids. Meanwhile, I hit the ground, he took the bullet, I fractured the shoulder diving out of the way and got shot, anyway. But if I hadn’t gone down, if I’d taken Frank’s bullet, those kids would still have a father,” he muttered.

  “And your already grieving sister would have lost another loved one. Don’t question fate,” she said, although she’d done just that, many times in her overworked, solitary life.

  “I take it I should be grateful I just got hit by a bullet and ended up with a bum shoulder?”

  She winced at his nonchalant description. Proof that danger was so much a part of him, he remained unfazed even after injury. “There are other ways of saying it.”

  “Maybe. But Uncle Jake is hardly a fair trade-off to those kids.”

  He was right, but the thought of his being killed didn’t sit well with her. “Everyone has someone who cares about them. You wouldn’t want Rina to experience that pain again. Sometimes you just have to accept and move on.”

  His assessing stare never wavered. “It would have been easier if the guy had been caught and put away. But, to top off the night, some rookie grabbed the perp first and screwed up his Miranda rights,” he said in disgust. “The slime walked on a technicality.”

  She nodded, noting his clenched jaw and deciding it was time to change the subject once more. But she still wanted to steer clear of that kiss and her growing feelings for Jake, the man. His caring about his partner’s family added another dimension to his personality, this one warmer and decidedly vulnerable, though she doubted he’d ever admit to it.

  “So tell me. Why have you been giving Rina a hard time about therapy?” Brianne had her doubts that he was as immobile as his sister believed, and she wondered what exactly was going on with Jake Lowell.