Terms Of Engagement. Kylie Brant

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СКАЧАТЬ the opening of the bathroom door. She’d stripped off the ripped shirt and the wide pants. Once again it occurred to him that Lindsay Bradford was a study of contrasts. She dressed as sedate as a nun, but what nun wore a matching black-and-white-striped bra and panties? What nun had a silver hoop piercing her navel and a tiny tattoo of a butterfly on one smooth shoulder blade?

      She turned around to reach for something, saw him watching her and froze. The oxygen abruptly backed up in his lungs.

      Because a nun wouldn’t look at him with naked desire in her expression, either. Desire that he fully, achingly reciprocated.

      The moment spun out. Neither of them moved. Hell, he couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Could only stare like a lovesick teenager. Want like a sex-starved hermit.

      An instant later she stepped closer to the door and closed it firmly.

      The pent-up air in his lungs released. He turned back to the window, shaken. He needed to get out of here. Lindsay had made it pretty damn clear in the bar that she wasn’t interested in casual entanglements. And while ordinarily he might test her resolve a bit, he sure as hell wasn’t going to do it after what she’d been through tonight.

      And if that left his more insistent body parts aching, it was too damn bad.

      To distract himself, he crossed to the apartment door, yanked it open and jogged down the steps toward his car. The blast of cool air was welcome against his heated skin. It was time to back the hell up. His response to the woman was all out of whack.

      Opening the trunk lid with his remote, he reached in for his toolbox and shut the lid again. He headed back toward the steps to her apartment. Okay. The lady had had a rough night. He’d fix her window, make sure she was steady on her feet and head in to the precinct alone. She could make her statement in the morning. Maybe if it wasn’t too late, he’d even head back to the Blue Lagoon. The bar was filled with females who would be far more interested than Lindsay had been earlier.

      And sometime between now and then, he’d work on summoning a little interest in them in return. Because he wasn’t a man who welcomed complications in his life. And if there was one thing Lindsay Bradford had written all over her, it was complication, in big, bold capital letters.

      He was hammering the second of two nails into her window sash when he heard her raised voice behind him. “What the heck are you doing?”

      Giving the nail a final blow with the hammer, he turned. “Making sure some lowlife doesn’t decide to come in your window.”

      She was swathed in a white zip-up terry-cloth robe that covered her from throat to feet. There was nothing remotely sexy about the garment. It was recalling what lay beneath it that was giving him a bad moment. Scowling, he passed her to squat before the toolbox, replacing the hammer and locking the lid.

      She eyed the window dubiously. “I don’t think there’s much danger of that. He’d need a pair of stilts at this height.”

      “Or a ladder. After tonight you shouldn’t be surprised at how far stupidity and hormones take some guys.” She paled, and he mentally kicked himself. Like she needed a reminder of the altercation earlier.

      Deliberately lightening the mood, he added, “Although once bad guys get a look at what you did to Fallon, I’d imagine they’d be steering clear of you.” The small smile those words elicited had heat coiling low in his belly.

      “I think you inflicted the worst damage there.”

      He surveyed her without trying to be obvious about it. She’d showered, and her dark, wet hair was combed straight back off her face to fall below her shoulders. There was already a mark blooming on one chiseled cheekbone. But her eyes were clear, unclouded by the shadows he’d seen there in the car. They were cat-green, unusual for her coloring.

      And he was losing it completely if he was standing here mooning over the color of a woman’s eyes.

      “You should get something on your face.” He went to the doll-size refrigerator and opened the freezer. The only ice was in trays, so he grabbed the bag of frozen peas and wrapped it in the kitchen towel that had been draped neatly over the faucet. He walked back and handed it to her. “I’m sure Jolie will come if you need someone to stay with you tonight.”

      She was already shaking her head. “I’m fine. She’s got enough to deal with tonight. I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”

      Since she seemed steady enough now, he figured it was as good a time as any to broach the subject of her statement. He backed up, propping a hip against the kitchen counter and folding his arms. “Making a statement isn’t difficult. I can walk you through the process if you—”

      “I already told you, I’m not interested.”

      Lindsay saw Jack’s gaze narrow and knew she was going to get an argument. She’d already learned that he didn’t take no for an answer.

      But this time he’d have to. If there was one thing she’d learned, it was that cops required ID for everything. And while hers might get only cursory examination, she couldn’t afford to take that chance. She’d made sure no trace of her name showed up on any public record for the last three years. Her caution had kept her alive. She wasn’t about to start making mistakes now.

      Jack crossed one foot in front of the other, and for a moment she found herself distracted by the action. He’d strayed from the Santa uniform with the boots. They were a deep brown rather than black, with richly tooled leather that screamed designer. They probably cost what she paid in six months’ rent.

      “I know the guy. He’s got a reputation with women, but so far no one has taken the step to make him pay for his actions. If Sheila Jennings presses charges—and it sure sounded like she planned to—she’s going to need your statement to back hers up. Otherwise he’ll spin it that she was willing, and he’ll walk again. And then he’ll do the same thing to some other woman.”

      His words had her nerves congealing in a greasy tangle in her stomach. If Jack hadn’t come outside with her, the outcome of the evening would have been far different. She would have suffered far worse injuries than a bruised cheek, and Sheila…She swallowed hard, thinking what might have happened to the woman. But she couldn’t focus on that now. And she couldn’t allow herself to be manipulated into feeling guilty about a woman she didn’t know and possible future victims.

      She was already carrying all the guilt she could live with.

      “Save your breath. I’ve made up my mind and you’re not going to change it.”

      The frustration on his face was easy to read. “Dammit, Lindsay…”

      “Dammit, Jack…” She crossed her arms to mimic his stance. Well, not exactly, since her chest wasn’t bare. And her arms weren’t bulging with all sorts of interesting muscles. But he wasn’t going to intimidate her, regardless.

      He gave a curt nod. “I’ll let you sleep on it. Maybe when Jolie talks to you tomorrow you’ll change your mind.”

      Although she didn’t relish the upcoming conversation, she shook her head. “I won’t.”

      His jaw tightened, and the toughness she’d noted earlier was not so hidden now. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as stubborn as you.”

      “Then СКАЧАТЬ