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  Because in the next instant, he didn’t care about comfort. Need burst to life inside of him. Savage and wild and focused wholly on her. His tongue slid over her lips. Into her mouth. And he feasted.

  A moan whispered from her throat, inflaming him more. Her breasts pushed at him, her nipples tight peaks. Her hands closed around his shoulders and she held on with a strong grip. She kissed him back, her mouth moving with a fierce desire to match.

  Zero to sixty…fucking fast. Not about comfort. He was kissing her like a starving, wild man. Only about desire. Lust. White-hot. So hot that he didn’t feel the cold any longer. He could only feel her.

  He wanted more.

  He wanted everything that Sophie had to give.

  And he’d be taking it.

  Only…

  Not here, not now.

  He licked her lower lip. Lex lightly bit that plump temptation. Then he let her slide back down to the ground. Let those sexy heels of hers touch the concrete.

  Her eyelashes slowly lifted as she stared up at him. Her eyes—they were darker, hot with lust.

  Inside of him, the need built ever higher. I’ll be having her.

  There were no more tears on her face. Her lips were redder, swollen now from his mouth. Her cheeks were flushed with color, and she was truly the sexiest thing that he’d ever seen in his life.

  He wanted her naked.

  He stepped away from her. “I’m not going to apologize for that kiss.”

  She didn’t speak. She did lift her hand and touch her lips.

  “I’d be lying,” he said, aware that his voice was gravel-rough, “if I told you that I hadn’t thought about kissing you before. See, I’ve been wanting to taste you from the first moment we met.” Back at the police station, weeks ago, when he’d been pretty sure she hated him.

  And he’d known he wanted her.

  “But I won’t do it again,” he said, making sure to keep his hands at his sides and not grab her again. “I won’t, unless you ask for my mouth. Because you can just be a client. I can just be your bodyguard.” Was that true? He didn’t even know, but he was trying—for her—to play by some kind of rules. A gentleman’s rules? Hell, he wasn’t sure about that. He’d certainly never been accused of being a gentleman.

  A rough soldier? Yes.

  A dangerous adversary? Hell, yes.

  But—

  Sophie turned away from him.

  Not a good sign.

  “I can be your bodyguard.” He had to say this to her. “I can be your lover. The choice is yours, but no matter what…” And he waited until she looked back at him. “I swear, you’ll be safe. No one will hurt you while I’m near. No one.” It was a promise he fully intended to keep.

  ***

  Red blinded him…a furious red to match the rage building inside of him.

  Sophie was in front of her home. That blond bastard—he’d been kissing her. Nearly devouring her right there. And Sophie had let him. Not just let him, she’d been on fire for the guy. Grabbing him. Rubbing her body against his. Nearly fucking him right there.

  Why? Why couldn’t she learn? The fast fucks that she picked up…those men never cared about her.

  They were just there to hurt her. To twist her up even more. To destroy the girl she’d been.

  Now Sophie was walking back toward that too flashy car. He was with her. The blond. Holding open her door. Watching her with need plain to see on his face.

  This won’t do.

  Not at all. The blond wasn’t going to get in his way. The blond wouldn’t keep him from Sophie.

  No one would keep him from her. Not ever again.

  The blond bastard would have to go because he would not watch while another man tried to destroy his Sophie. Not again.

  The blond was fucking in the way.

  So he would be eliminated.

  Chapter Three

  “No, no, absolutely not,” Finn Scott said as he put his hands on his hips and glared at both Dev and Lex. “Hell, no, I haven’t been sneaking into Sophie’s house! And neither have my men!”

  Lex narrowed his eyes on the guy. Finn was close to Lex’s height, but with a build that was a little thicker. The guy’s hair was black, his gaze a dark brown, and he wore jeans and a loose sweatshirt as he stood in the middle of his shop.

  “Sophie hired me to do a job. I’ve been doing that job perfectly well. This is the first I’ve heard of any complaints.” Finn’s gaze darted between Dev and Lex. “I have my men thoroughly checked out. No one steals, no one—”

  “I didn’t accuse you of stealing,” Lex said, keeping his voice expressionless. He’d wanted to come to this little chat himself, to get a feel for the guy. He knew Dev was doing his tech work and digging into Finn’s past, but sometimes, these up-close meetings could reveal so much more.

  “Then what are you saying?” Finn blustered. “I don’t like accusations—”

  “Who does?” Lex murmured. “But I’m going to need the name and address of every man who has worked at Sophie’s brownstone.”

  For an instant, worry flickered in Finn’s gaze. “Not stealing…then what? Did something happen to Sophie?”

  Ah, and there it was…exactly what Lex had thought he might find. Real emotion had been in Finn’s voice when he said Sophie’s name. Just like hers had changed when she mentioned this bozo. The guy wasn’t just some handyman she’d hired.

  Finn took an aggressive step toward Lex. “Where is Sophie? I called today, checking on the job’s schedule, but she didn’t call me back.”

  “She’s in court,” Lex said, his voice smooth. Finn obviously had a problem keeping his emotions under wraps, but Lex didn’t. Not right then, anyway. “And the thing that happened to her, well, someone broke in her house last night.”

  Finn’s eyes widened.

  “The jerk had a knife,” Lex continued as Dev remained silent at his side, “but Sophie got away from him.”

  “She’s hurt?”

  Again, emotion broke through his words.

  “You sure seem very concerned about Sophie…” He and Dev shared a quick glance. Dev had been quiet, just observing—that was the way the guy usually worked.

  “Of course I’m concerned,” Finn blasted at him. “I owe her far more than I could ever repay.”

  Now Dev rolled his shoulders and nodded. “Because she got that not guilty verdict for you a few years back.” Dev had dug up that intel fast. “It looked like you were going to be facing fifteen years for that robbery, but—”

  “But I didn’t do it,” Finn said as a muscle jerked in his jaw. “And Sophie knew it. She cleared me. I don’t steal. I never have, and I make absolutely sure no man on my crew does it, either.”

  Before Lex had dropped Sophie off at court, he’d questioned her about the guy in charge of her repairs. She’d been adamant that Finn Scott couldn’t be involved, and now he was starting to see why. The two of them definitely had a personal relationship.

  Sophie, why did you hold that back from me?

  “I would do anything for Sophie,” Finn told them. “Anything.”

  Lex gave the guy a grim smile. “Glad to hear you say that.” Even if the passion in the other man’s tone had Lex’s back teeth grinding together. “Because you can start that ‘anything’ by giving us the names of the men on your crew—names and addresses.” Just as he’d said before.

  But suspicion flashed on Finn’s face. “I don’t even know who the hell you are. I mean, you bust in here, throwing Sophie’s name around, and you’re—”

  “I’m the man who’s looking after Sophie’s interests. The man who is keeping her safe.”

  Finn seemed to measure him. “I don’t remember seeing you with Sophie before…”

  Lex opened his mouth to respond, but Dev beat him to the punch. “It’s not for you to remember. He’s been there. He was the man who pulled Sophie out of that death trap that Daniel Duvato left for her, and he’s the man who’s been with her since then.”

&nb
sp; Finn’s jaw jutted into the air.

  “If you’ll do anything for her, then give us the names.” Lex held Finn’s stare. “I’m asking politely this time. If I have to ask again…” And he bared his teeth, the smile definitely the unfriendly variety. He’d been told by more than a few people that he had a fucking cold smile. A real killer. “It won’t be so politely.”

  Finn swallowed. “I’ll get the names. For Sophie, got it?”

  What the hell ever. He just wanted the list.

  Finn turned away. Hurried to his desk. Lex followed behind him and when he got a look at the picture on the guy’s desk, the framed image of a smiling Sophie, Finn, and Ethan Barclay, his gut clenched.

  That picture wasn’t new. It looked like Sophie was about eighteen. Smiling. Happy.

  And she’d known Finn for that long?

  Hell, that woman had to stop keeping secrets. If she wanted his help, she had to tell him everything.

  Finn reached out and his fingers curled around the photo. “Didn’t know about that, did you?” Finn asked, his voice soft, carrying no farther than to Lex. “You might be her new lover, but I’ve been with her through the blood and tears.”

  Blood and tears.

  Lex could still taste her tears.

  Finn’s grip tightened on the photo. “And I’ll be there, long after you’re gone. Sophie never keeps lovers long these days. You’re all expendable to her.” His lip twisted. “Same type. Jerks who like to threaten. Jerks who think they have so much power.” Then he laughed. “But when are you going to see? When it comes to Sophie, you have no power. You have nothing at all.”

  ***

  “I can’t go to jail.”

  Sophie turned her head and met the worried stare of her client. Julianna Patrice McNall-Smith’s face was carefully made up, but her fear was breaking up that mask. Causing the makeup to appear too thick. Her lips too red. Her eyes too stark.

  “I didn’t kill my husband,” Julianna said as her fingers fluttered nervously. “I don’t care what my stepdaughter is saying. I’m innocent. I didn’t do this!”

  She patted Julianna’s hand. “Relax. This is all preliminary stuff. When the actual trial starts, we’ll—”

  “Prove my innocence?” Julianna pleaded, voice breaking.

  “No.” Sophie kept her voice quiet. Most folks had already left the courtroom, but a few people—including the prosecuting assistant district attorney—were still here. “I just need to cast doubt that you’re the guilty one. Enough doubt to sway just one person on that jury.”

  Her words didn’t seem to be reassuring Julianna.

  “Don’t worry,” Sophie told her. “We’ll show the jurors all of your husband’s enemies. We’ll get them to see just what kind of man he truly was.”

  A sadistic, controlling bastard. A bastard with too much money and too much power.

  But money and power hadn’t stopped his death.

  “I didn’t do it,” Julianna whispered. “I-I don’t know what happened. I woke up, and blood was everywhere and—”

  And the ADA was closing in. Sophie touched Julianna’s shoulder. “We’ll talk again later.”

  Julianna blanched.

  “Hello, ADA,” Sophie said, raising her voice.

  Julianna was still walking around in some sort of dazed shock. Sophie had seen it before. The shock that came when your world collapsed. When you were suddenly faced with losing your freedom. When your friends and family turned their backs on you and the whole world seemed to have gone mad.

  Been there, done that, too many times.

  Julianna hadn’t even noticed the ADA sidling closer.

  Sophie had.

  The ADA, a handsome, brown-haired man with a grin that flashed his dimples, closed in on her. Only he didn’t flash his dimples. Sophie knew that Clark Eastbridge saved his dimples for important people—like juries.

  “She got your bail, not real surprising, is it?” Clark murmured. “Sophie is the best.”

  She smiled at him. Okay, she bared her teeth. She and Clark spent far too much time as opponents. She’d heard he was a decent guy, but since he was usually trying to toss her clients into some dank, dark cell someplace, she’d never actually seen the decent side of him.

  Guilty until proven innocent. She figured that was his motto.

  “You took my client’s passport. You insisted on a two-million-dollar bond…” She kept her grim smile in place. “Don’t you think that was excessive?”

  The faint lines near his eyes—a blue that was darker than Sophie’s own—tightened a bit. “I think stabbing a man thirteen times is excessive.” His voice—smooth and deep—rolled over her. Clark shrugged. “But that’s just me.”

  Julianna whimpered. No other word for it. A full-on whimper. “I didn’t! I-I don’t know what happened—”

  Oh, hell. Time to stop the client from saying anything else. If they were going for an insanity defense, Sophie would deal with that whole not-remembering bit later.

  “We’re done.” She patted Sophie on the shoulder. Hard. “My associate, Kurt, will take care of you. You’ll be out on bail before you can blink.”

  Julianna was blinking at her—blinking away tears. “Thank you. You believe me when no one else does.”

  It actually wasn’t her job to believe her clients. It was just her job to defend them. But when Julianna came in for a hug, Sophie embraced the other woman. She even heard herself reassuringly say, “Don’t worry. Everything will be all right.” That was so crazy. She never made vows to her clients like that.

  It was just that—in spite of all her money and the power that Julianna had once wielded—she seemed so broken to Sophie.

  Sophie glanced over Julianna’s shoulder. Sophie’s assistant, Kurt Blayne, was already on his feet. He’d been second chair for her that day, and the guy knew his stuff. He was an up-and-coming defense lawyer at her firm, and she knew Kurt would go far. His good looks would work wonders for jurors and his sharp intellect—it would definitely help his client.

  “I’m going to take care of you,” Kurt told Julianna, using a soft, reassuring voice. “Don’t worry. Sophie handles the judges, and I make sure the clients get home safe.”

  He also had orders to stay close to Julianna—to make sure she didn’t talk to the press or any little…visitors…that a sneaky ADA might send her way.

  Sophie didn’t speak again until Julianna and Kurt were gone. Then she lifted her right eyebrow—a trick she liked to use on difficult witnesses, a look that she knew totally called bullshit—and she said, “You honestly believe that woman took a knife and stabbed her husband again and again? A man who outweighed her by sixty pounds? A man who was nearly a foot taller? A man who—”

  “I think I don’t buy her innocent act. And I think you’re too smart to do it, too.”

  “I’m smart enough to recognize a victim when I see one.” She started gathering her things together, shoving her notebook back into her briefcase, snapping up her tablet, and—

  He touched her hand. “She isn’t you. None of the people you defend—they aren’t you.”

  Sophie swallowed, hating the burn of shame that filled her. She and Clark hadn’t attended the same college and definitely not the same law school. They sure as hell hadn’t grown up in the same neighborhood. He was Ivy League, a rich boy from day one. Born to wealth and privilege.

  She wasn’t.

  But Clark would have access to all her records. Everyone at the DA’s office would. So that meant plenty of people in this town knew about her painful past.

  She stiffened her shoulders and lifted her chin. Rumors and whispers had followed her for years. She’d never let anyone see that those rumors and whispers cut her like knives. “I never said she was me. If it had been me…” Now she locked her gaze on him. “I would have fought back after the first beating. She didn’t. She let him hurt her again and again. And I’ll prove in court that he was the aggressor, not my client.”

  Clark whistled. “Li
ke that, is it? Going for the old battered spouse story?”

  “It’s not a story.” That jerk would know nothing about abuse. “I’m going to for my client’s freedom. That’s all.” He was still touching her. She didn’t like it. His touch didn’t make her warm, not the way Lex’s did. In fact, he was nothing at all like Lex.

  Or like the men she dated. She needed men with an edge. Men with a darkness that clung to them.

  Not men who only saw the world in narrow terms of black and white. Innocent and guilty.

  Sometimes, the innocent could be guilty.

  And the guilty could be innocent.

  “Get your hand off me,” Sophie said, not even bothering to be polite about it. As if she had a reputation for politeness in justice circles. She knew good and well that most thought she was a hard-ass, and she liked that. Folks in her business didn’t respect someone who could be easily pushed around.

  So, no, politeness wasn’t her concern then. She just didn’t want him touching her.

  He’s not Lex.

  That thought shot through her head and made her uncomfortable.

  He immediately removed his hand. “I’m sorry, I…” Clark exhaled. “Look, how about we go someplace and talk? I sure didn’t mean to piss you off, okay?”

  Now she eyed him with suspicion. “Why the nice act?”

  His gaze slid away.

  “Clark…”

  “I might have heard about your break-in last night. I just—I wanted to see if you were all right.”

  There was no might in the equation. The ADA had been sharing gossip again. If her spine got any straighter, Sophie feared it would snap. “Did your cop buddies try to tell you that I imagined the whole thing? Because I didn’t.”

  He reached out toward her, then stopped, his hand clenching into a fist. “Of course you didn’t. I know you. You aren’t a woman given to fantasy—”

  Actually, on that, he was wrong. She fantasized plenty. Mostly about Lex.

  “If there’s something I can do to help you, I will. I’ll send more cops to patrol your neighborhood tonight. I can make sure you’re safe while you’re there and—”

  A strong, male voice said, “She won’t be there tonight, Eastbridge, but thanks.”