Daring In The City. Jo Leigh
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Название: Daring In The City

Автор: Jo Leigh

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Современные любовные романы

Серия:

isbn: 9781474065900

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ because it was a very nice view: the woman was wearing nothing but underwear.

      Very tiny underwear.

      Her bikini panties were pale blue, resting high on each cheek, and tucked in between her stunning buttocks just far enough to make him catch his breath. On top, he spotted the straps of her matching bra poking out from underneath a cascade of thick auburn hair.

      He wondered what she looked like from the front...

      She turned quickly, probably hearing his irregular breathing.

      Now her scream was definitely of the help-I’m-being-assaulted variety.

      He lowered the crowbar, noticing the two large pieces of luggage behind her. “Hey, hey,” he said softly, raising his left hand. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

      She waved her cell phone at him as she grabbed the nearest thing at hand—a pillow—and held it up against her seminaked body. “I’ve already hit my panic button. The police will be here any minute.”

      “Good,” he said, leaning his weapon against the door frame, trying hard to ignore the fact that she was hot. Certainly way too hot for that douche bag, Wes. “I’m anxious to hear you explain what you’re doing in my apartment.”

      “Your apartment? You mean you own the one below?”

      He nodded. “It’s all one unit.”

      “But I have a key. And five days left on the rental agreement.”

      “What agreement?”

      “My...” Her pause was notable, mostly for the look of fury that passed across her face. “My ex-jerkface business partner rented this place from the—from you, I guess. But I didn’t think you lived here.”

      “Huh. Well, I think you might have been misinformed by Jerkface. And by Jerkface, I’m assuming you mean Wes Holland?”

      Her whole demeanor changed from fierce guardedness to utter defeat and she lowered her cell phone. “Wait a minute. How do I know you’re the real owner?”

      “Wes moved out. Letting him stay here was a favor, one that he didn’t value very highly. All this crap was supposed to be gone when he left.”

      Maneuvering the pillow to cover whatever she could of herself, she grabbed her backpack and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Ha. You’re wrong. This is the rental agreement. Right here.” She held it up and wagged it at him, the same way she’d done with her phone.

      The truth was, he’d agreed to let the guy stay, and he had moved out early, but there’d been nothing in writing. “Hey, I’m sorry about your friend, but you can’t stay here. I’m moving in and working on the apartment. The only reason I rented to him at all was because I hadn’t gotten started on the renovation yet. And he never mentioned you.”

      “But he left a note,” she said, her voice wobbling. “He was supposed to meet me at the Port Authority. Help me move in. But he hasn’t answered any of my phone calls for two days. And he emptied our joint bank account that was intended for our new business.”

      Yep, two days ago—that was when Wes had moved out. Luca felt bad for her, but it still wasn’t his problem. His gut had told him the guy was a prick. Why the hell hadn’t he listened?

      “I understand you must be angry,” he said, “but that doesn’t change the fact that you’ll have to leave.”

      “What? Now?”

      “Well, no.” It was already late, well past dark, and he couldn’t see himself throwing her out. “You can stay tonight, but you’ll have to go tomorrow.”

      A couple of very white teeth tugged on her lower lip. “Look, if you could just let me stay for the next five days? By then I’ll have found somewhere else. I’ll have figured out what to do.”

      “May I suggest you get on the next Greyhound back to wherever you came from?”

      A single tear trickled down her cheek and she quickly turned away. “I can’t. There’s no place for me there. I’ve planned this move for a while. We had everything set up to start our business...” Her voice trailed off, ending in a muffled sob. “Fine, I’ll go,” she whispered. “It can’t be in the morning, though. I need to find a place.”

      He turned to leave, but hesitated at the door while he thought about her predicament. Letting her stay a couple days would mean he’d have to put off moving in upstairs, but it wouldn’t put the reno back much. It would just be less convenient for him. But he wasn’t a jerkface, and he doubted this was some sort of con.

      Technically, he owed her nothing. Luca had agreed to let Wes have the room, not her. But she was in a hell of a spot. Still, what did he know about her?

      He waited for her to face him again, and when she didn’t he asked, “What’s your name?”

      “April.”

      “Is that your real name?”

      That got her to turn around. She pinned him with a glare as she wiped her tears as quickly as she could. “Yes. April Branagan. Check me out. I’m not a criminal.” Her bravado faltered and she let out a soft whimper. “Although your neighbors might think I am.”

      “My neighbors?” The hair on the back of his neck stood up. “Why?”

      “I didn’t say I was a criminal. Just that they might think so.”

      “Why would they think that?” More to the point, why was he bothering to ask? He should be kicking her cute little behind out the front door right now.

      “It was a misunderstanding. That’s all. There was no reason to call the cops.”

      “Cops? Here?”

      “No, not up here. Outside.” She sniffed and dabbed at her cheek. “And only because the elevator was out of order.”

      Luca was pretty sure the cops didn’t give a rat’s ass about the elevator, so he waited, staring at her as she stared back. The pillow slipped a few inches. Either she hadn’t noticed or it was a ploy to distract him, which...

      Goddamn it.

      Her breasts were high and looked firm. He only saw the tops plumping over her pale blue bra. Nothing else was showing. Still, he moved his gaze to safer ground.

      If there was such a thing.

      He hated to think he’d end up being an idiot because she was hot. Those big dark eyes weren’t even the most remarkable thing about her face. It was the odd combination of her roundish cheeks and delicate chin. Or maybe the contrast between her dark brows and warm, rosy skin...

      Whatever, she was gorgeous, and his opinion of Wes Holland went down several more notches. The guy was an idiot.

      “Tell me why the cops were here,” he said, holding up a hand when she started to speak. “In one sentence, and make it good if you want to stay.”

      She inhaled deeply, and he had to force himself to keep СКАЧАТЬ