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“Only legitimate one.” She rubbed her chin. “I do have a half brother. I’m sure my father would’ve preferred me as the bastard and Wade as the legitimate son. You have three brothers, right?”
He raised his brows but held his response as the waitress delivered their drinks and a bowl of peanuts.
The waitress asked, “Do you want anything to eat?”
“No, thanks.” He tipped his chin at London. “You?”
“Not after all that rich food at the benefit.”
He sipped the dark, malty beer through the thick head of foam and met London’s purposeful look over the rim of the glass.
“Three brothers? I know one’s a cop in the city, and then there’s the one who was working with that writer.”
“You seem to know a lot about my family.”
“The Brody family is in the news almost as much as my family.” Her lips puckered and she blew on the foam in her glass.
“For very different reasons.” He shifted his gaze away from that kissable mouth. He’d let her make all the moves.
“While you’re all busy delivering justice, the Brecks are delivering...money.”
“Both equally necessary. Besides, I don’t deliver justice. I just look out for pretty people and their pretty things.”
He didn’t believe in justice—not after losing his father when he was practically a baby and then his mother to drugs and alcohol. Sean had been a great big brother, but a sibling was no substitute for a mom and dad.
“Thank God for that.” London clinked her mug with his.
The song on the jukebox had changed to a slow ballad all about how love hurt, and Judd took a swig of beer. Hell, love didn’t hurt, not if you dropped it in its tracks.
London rapped her knuckles on the table between them. “You wanna dance?”
“You’re kidding.”
“There are some couples out there.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the postage-stamp dance floor.
“That doesn’t mean we have to join them.”
She tugged on his rolled-up sleeve. “Come on. I promise not to jump on the tabletop.”
Her cool fingers brushed against his skin, causing a thudding ache in the middle of his belly. “Have you been known to do that? Jump on tabletops?”
Her fingernails dug into his forearm. “Don’t pretend you don’t know about me, Judd Brody.”
Busted. He jumped from the booth. If this was some weird mating ritual she had, he’d play along.
When they hit the dance floor, he pulled her snug against his body. Who did she think she was toying with, some upper-crust rich boy? He didn’t play games. If a woman signaled interest the way London was doing, he’d take her up on the offer every time.
Wrapping one arm around her slender waist, he reached up with his other hand to tuck her head against his shoulder. Her breath warmed his skin through the thin material of his shirt.
He rested his cheek against her bright hair, and the golden strands stuck to the stubble of his beard. Reaching between their bodies, he opened her leather jacket and drew her close, his chest pressing against her soft breasts beneath the silvery material of her dress.
She shifted and her soft lips touched the side of his neck.
He gritted his teeth to suppress the shudder threatening to engulf his body. Her expensive perfume enveloped them, and for the first time in a very long time and a very long line of women, he felt on the edge of losing control.
Then the door to the bar burst open and Theodore, bloodied and battered, staggered into the room and dropped to the floor.
Chapter Three (#ulink_5377f848-e8ab-5f37-9f9d-b8a96b8c6a75)
London screamed at the bloody mess that was Theodore’s face and twisted out of the comfort of Judd’s embrace, pitching forward. Judd curled one muscular arm around her waist to steady her.
He tucked her behind his large frame and strode toward Theodore, who had collapsed in a heap.
She made a grab for Judd’s belt and hooked two fingers through the loop, following him as people cleared a path to Theodore’s inert form.
Judd yelled over his shoulder at the bartender, “Call nine-one-one. Now!”
He crouched beside Theodore, feeling for his pulse. “Towels, I need some clean towels to stop this bleeding.”
“I-is he still alive? Has he been shot?” London had never seen so much blood. She unbuttoned Theodore’s shirt at the neck.
“He’s still breathing, and I don’t see any bullet wounds.”
The waitress who had served them earlier rushed from behind the bar with a stack of white towels. “Is he okay?”
“He’s lost consciousness.”
One of the bartenders knelt beside Judd with a pitcher of water. “Ambulance is on the way. Do you need this?”
London dipped one of the towels in the water and dabbed Theodore’s split lip as Judd pressed another against the gaping wound on his head.
Taking Theodore’s big hand in hers, London squeezed it and whispered, “You’re going to be okay.”
The wailing sirens scattered the crowd of people hovering over Theodore. When the EMTs rushed in, Judd talked to them as they worked on their patient.
Once the EMTs bundled Theodore into the ambulance, a police officer approached Judd. “Do you know the victim?”
Judd turned to London. “He’s her driver.”
“Black limo? License number—” the officer flipped open a notepad “—BGE21?”
London’s heart fluttered in her chest. “That’s right. What happened to Theodore? Where’s the car?”
The officer tapped the pad of paper against his chin. “The car’s registered to Spencer Breck and Breck Global Enterprises.”
“That’s me.” London waved her hand. “I’m Breck Global Enterprises.”
The cop’s eyes widened for a second and then shifted to the diamond necklace around her throat. “Of course, Ms. Breck. The car—your car—was found idling at the curb by the park. The driver’s-side door was open and it looks as if the car had rolled partially into the street and then was hit by another car.”
Judd’s head shot up. “Was there blood near the car? On the seat?”
“Exactly. It appears that someone pulled the driver from the car and beat him on the street. His plans to steal the car were probably thwarted when it rolled into the street and got hit.” The officer’s eyebrows met over his nose. “And you are?”
“Judd Brody.”
“Brody...”
“He’s my friend. Is that what you think this was? An attempted car theft? Of a limo?”
“Could’ve been kids looking for a joyride.” He scratched his chin and eyed Judd. “Aren’t you...?”
Judd sliced his hand through the air. “I don’t think kids could’ve done that much damage to a big guy like Theodore.”
Good to know she and Judd were on the same page. Wedging her hand on her hip, she said, “I don’t think kids would be out to steal a distinctive limo, either.”
“That might be just what they wanted. We don’t have any witnesses. I’m amazed your driver made it this far in his condition. He should’ve just called the cops himself.”
The officer asked them several more questions and told her where the ambulance had transported Theodore. He had a daughter in New York and one in Atlanta, and she intended to call both of them just as soon as she checked up on Theodore herself.
How could this happen? Theodore had never run into any trouble driving her father around. She couldn’t even keep her employees safe. How was she supposed to run a company? Maybe she did need Roger’s help.
She arranged for a tow service to take the limo back to her father’s place, and Judd called a taxi.
London twisted her fingers into knots. “It’s all my fault. I should’ve insisted that he take the car back instead of waiting around in this crappy neighborhood.”
“The only people who deserve blame are the dirtbags who tried to jack Theodore.” He brushed a wisp of hair from her cheek with the rough pad of his finger. “There’s no way you were going to convince Theodore to leave you. He takes pride in a job well done.”
“You’re right, but we should’ve gone somewhere else.” She shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket. “I need to stop being the wild-child free spirit.”
He wedged a finger beneath her chin and tilted her head back. “Who says?”
His soft touch and low voice caused tears to prick the backs of her eyes. How had he gone from sexy alpha male on the dance floor to this man with the understanding eyes? And why was she falling under his spell so quickly?
She jerked her head away and ducked to peer through the window. “I think our taxi’s here.”
They climbed into the backseat and she put her hand on his forearm, which tensed beneath her fingers. “Your jacket’s in the back of the limo.”
“Don’t worry about it. I don’t think I’ll be needing it anytime soon.”
“Where do you live?” She leaned forward in her seat.
“We’ll have him drop you off first.”
She gave the taxi driver her address and fell back against the seat. “I hope Theodore’s going to be okay. Maybe we should follow the ambulance.”
“And have you create a media circus? Not a great idea. Theodore lost a lot of blood, but I’ve seen guys a lot worse off than that after fights. I think he’ll pull through.”
“Thanks to you. Is all that first aid—” she waved her hand in the air “—part of your job?”
“Yeah. I spent several summers working as a lifeguard in Santa Cruz, so I had all that training, which comes in handy now.”
She closed her eyes. Was there anything this man couldn’t do?
Too quickly, the taxi pulled in front of her building.
Judd tapped the driver’s shoulder. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”
He took her hand to help her from the car and dropped it all too soon as they walked to the front door of her building. She entered the code to open the door and turned on the step. Under better circumstances she’d invite him up for a cocktail, see if his slow seduction on the dance floor would come to fruition.
Now she just wanted to wash her hands, still smudged with Theodore’s blood.
“Thanks for everything tonight, Judd Brody.”
“You’re welcome, London Breck. Do you need me to walk you up to your place?”
She pointed inside the lobby at the security guard sitting at the desk watching TV monitors. “Twenty-four-hour security here. I’m not the only celebrity in the building.”
“Good, but don’t forget how the evening started, with you being attacked in an alley.”
Judd didn’t even know about the threatening note. “I guess Theodore and I both had targets on our backs tonight.”
His brow furrowed. “Yeah, you did.”
He obviously wasn’t going to sweep her into his arms for a good-night kiss, no matter how much she needed the comfort, so she stuck out her hand. “Good night.”
“Goodbye.” He gave her hand a hard squeeze and then turned away.
Ouch. That had a ring of finality to it. Why shouldn’t it? They were two strangers thrown together by two extraordinary events. They’d shared a little flirtation, but so what? A man like Judd Brody must have had many little flirtations to his credit...and many notches on his bedpost.
She had more important matters to think about anyway. She waved to the security guard as she crossed the marble-tiled lobby. She had to grow up and take charge of a multibillion-dollar enterprise—and Judd Brody couldn’t help with that at all.
* * *
THE FOLLOWING DAY, London scooted the plastic chair closer to the bed and patted Theodore’s arm. “I don’t get why someone would want to carjack a limousine. And why did you go to the bar instead of calling the police?”
Theodore moved his head from side to side and groaned.
“Keep still.” She reached for the plastic cup on the table beside his hospital bed and held the straw to his swollen lips.
He sipped some water and then waved it away. “Pulled me out of the car, and I lost my phone in the fight. I wouldn’t let them...wouldn’t let them take the car.”
“That’s just silly. Why are you protecting a heap of metal? You should’ve let them have the damn thing and saved yourself.”
“Couldn’t let them. Had to protect you.”
“Me?” She folded the sheet under his side. “I wasn’t even there. I was perfectly safe at the bar with—at the bar.”
She’d fallen asleep thinking about Judd’s arms wrapped around her on the dance floor, about the way the warm skin of his throat felt against her lips. Then she heard his goodbye. Curt. Final.
