Body Heat. Carly Phillips

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СКАЧАТЬ back. “Now, can you get off me before the humidity glues us together?”

      She laughed and resettled herself in the chair. “Now that we’ve dealt with my life, such as it is, it’s time to deal with yours.”

      Jake groaned. “I knew my reprieve was too good to last. I’ll make a deal with you. Go to Italy and have fun. Come back happy, and then we’ll deal with my life.” By then Jake should have Ramirez back behind bars where he belonged. But he knew Rina wasn’t just referring to work.

      Rina glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t know, Jake. If you wait too long, someone might snatch her up. For all you know, she might already be attached.”

      “No ring,” he said, and immediately regretted the admission.

      “Then, do something about it,” his sister said, challengingly.

      He wanted to rise to the bait as he’d often done when they were children. But he couldn’t. After his ex-wife, the only women he’d consider now were the ones who were safe, who didn’t threaten his sanity or his heart. Considering the strong pull she exerted over him, Jake had a hunch this one was capable of doing that and more. With the Ramirez case hanging over his head, Jake didn’t have time for distractions. And she was most definitely a distraction.

      

      SHE WAS LATE. Brianne Nelson sprinted down the street toward The Sidewalk Café. She needed this second job and the money it brought in, but all she could think about was him. Was he here as he’d been last night and the night before that? Was he waiting or had he given up and gone home? And was he alone or, as usual, was he with the beautiful woman? The woman Brianne had seen hug him last evening.

      Brianne’s heart beat a furious pace, due more to anticipation and excitement than from her mad rush to make it to work. She’d thought she would never get out of the hospital. Her last client had gotten hung up in X-ray, and by the time Mr. Johnson arrived at physical therapy, he was forty-five minutes overdue for his appointment. After his second stroke, the older man needed rehabilitation as much as Brianne needed the money this waitressing job brought in. He had a new grandbaby he wanted to hold on his lap. She couldn’t reschedule or hand him off to another therapist any more than she could give up her night job.

      Nor did she want to. Not since she had the man of her dreams waiting. He arrived three times a week, wearing the same type of outfit—a pair of jeans and a shirt he’d obviously created himself with a pair of scissors and one good rip. The cropped shirt exposed a hint of tantalizing tanned skin, with a dark sprinkling of hair running down his abdomen until it disappeared into the denim waistband. And his forearms…she’d never seen muscles that well toned. He’d piqued her interest and fed her fantasies.

      She slowed her pace as she reached the outdoor entrance, her gaze taking in the crowded tables on the sidewalk, lingering on the men seated outside. Though many had jet-black hair, none made her heart race. None met her gaze with a knowing gleam in his eyes or caused a liquid rush of desire in response to his sexy grin.

      She shook off the disappointment caused by his absence, reminding herself that the man she anticipated was already taken. Meeting with the same woman that many times a week spoke of devotion and commitment—to someone else. Which was why she’d asked Jimmy to let Kellie handle the outdoor tables. Kellie was an accomplished flirt who rarely took any one man seriously, someone who could handle such a gorgeous customer with ease. Unlike Brianne, who had way too much interest in the man. Besides, even if he weren’t involved, her dating and mating skills were rusty from disuse. Brianne understood her real life. He was a fantasy. She rushed in and past the bar.

      “You’re late,” Jimmy called out.

      “I’m sorry.”

      “Hang on. Someone wants to—”

      She ducked into the small bathroom, cutting Jimmy off before he could lecture her about burnout again. He was her boss and in the process had become her friend. She was a physical therapist by day, and Jimmy understood how badly she needed this job at night. No matter how tired or how weary she was of smiling for the customers, she had no choice. She needed the money.

      She was just fortunate Jimmy put up with her often delayed arrival; he rarely complained. Like her, he’d lost his parents young, and he’d also raised a sibling. He just hadn’t had the added pressure of having a genius brother who deserved to remain in an exclusive, expensive, private boarding school and who would attend college thereafter.

      Too bad her parents hadn’t thought of either Marc or Brianne when they’d gone out in a small plane in weather that even the FAA had warned against flying in. Too bad they’d invested their money in pleasure and not in insurance for their children.

      She shivered, then pushed all thoughts of her selfish, risk-taking parents aside. She’d been her brother’s only means of support for so long, she didn’t know any different. But even a boss who was her friend couldn’t keep her on if she didn’t get her behind outside and start serving the customers.

      Shoving her clothes under one arm, she paused to wash the grime of the New York City subway from her hands. Brianne wondered if he would show up later, and knew that thought would keep her going when her feet begged for a rest. Because, lately, she wasn’t as tired, nor did she approach this job with the dread she had felt in the past. He kept her spirits high and her adrenaline flowing. Just knowing he’d be waiting, watching, making her feel sexy and desirable, when she had no time to be desirable, caused her anticipation to soar.

      She air-dried her hands, then grabbed her clothes and turned toward the stalls. Before she could blink, she ran smack into a customer. “Sorry,” she muttered.

      “My fault.”

      Brianne took a step back and found herself face-to-face with the woman who usually sat with her fantasy man. Her dark hair was layered and razored in the most up-to-date style. The shaglike cut was perfect with her lightly made-up face and trendy clothes.

      The woman certainly didn’t look as if she’d spent the day massaging other people’s body parts, Brianne thought, glancing down at her own scrubs. Then she looked at her watch and groaned before meeting the other woman’s appraising gaze. “Excuse me. I’m running late.” Brianne started for the open stall.

      “Can we talk first?”

      The other woman’s voice stopped Brianne cold, and she pivoted fast. “Excuse me?” Her heart beat more quickly.

      They had nothing in common, nothing to discuss—except him. She’d done nothing wrong, Brianne assured herself. Yet the thoughts and fantasies she’d spun about a man she’d never met were enough to make her—a woman who’d seen men and women in varying degrees of nakedness during patient therapy—blush.

      But no one she’d seen in patient therapy had even remotely resembled him. He was every inch a potent, sexy male who allowed her the freedom to feel like a woman, to test her limits and flirt without fear of anything more coming of it, because he was involved and she was too busy—which made him safe. Or so she thought.

      “Hey, are you okay? I don’t want you to faint on me,” the woman said with concern.

      Brianne nodded. “I’m fine,” she said, embarrassment and shame filling her. Her fantasy man had a girlfriend who wanted to talk. Brianne had witnessed that hug between them last night with a pang of envy she hadn’t known she was capable of feeling. But it served to remind her that he was spoken for. She cleared her throat. “I’m fine,” СКАЧАТЬ