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The Protector
Jule McBride
A MATCHMAKING MOM WILL SECRETLY TURN HER THREE BIG APPLE BACHELORS INTO MILLIONAIRES–BUT ONLY IF THEY MARRY!Bachelor #3, Captain Sullivan Steele, is called the Great Protector around his precinct. The job and his men come first– love is a distant third. Until gorgeous Judith Hunt from Internal Affairs coolly steps into his office–and suddenly Sully needs to protect his turf and his heart. Judith is investigating Sullivan's connection to a police funding scam. She's not about to be swayed by a body like steel…or his bedroom eyes. She's convinced Sully's hiding something that could break the case wide open. Except the more she discovers about the sexy streetwise captain, the more she'd like to conduct her own heated affair in bed…with him.
“What do you want from me, Steele?”
Urgently he drew Judith flush against his chest. “You know what I want—” He groaned at the feel of her lower body pressuring his. “You. In bed.”
She could barely breathe. “Me and the Great Protector, huh?”
“That’s right.”
“I don’t need a man to protect me, Steele.”
“Sully,” he corrected, the tantalizing flick of his tongue coming after the hoarsely spoken name, sending delicious feelings swirling through her. “You said you’d call me Sully if I was good.”
And he was good. Judith couldn’t stop herself from wreathing her arms around his neck. Nobody had ever kissed her like this. Each thrust of his tongue was creating waves of internal pleasure. For so long she’d hoped a man would sweep into her life and arouse her in a way she couldn’t deny. “Just kiss me.”
His voice was almost a growl. “What the hell do you think I’m doing?”
“Talking.”
“Not anymore.” And with that he carried her off to bed.
Dear Reader,
Welcome to the third book in my BIG APPLE BACHELORS miniseries, set in New York City. While each book can stand alone, you’ll remeet characters I hope you’ve come to love in previous stories. Now you’re about to meet the oldest, sexiest Steele brother, a man who’s known as The Protector.
Like his younger brothers, Captain Sullivan Steele is one of New York’s finest and hails from a great city with a legendary heart. Sullivan is intense and passionate, and I hope his story will deliver everything I love about Harlequin Temptation novels—great sex, lots of emotion and a terrific happy ending that leaves you feeling good.
With all my best wishes,
Jule McBride
Meet all of New York’s finest in the BIG APPLE BACHELORS miniseries
Truman is The Hotshot
Rex is The Seducer
Sullivan is The Protector
The Protector
Jule McBride
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To my favorite cop, David Shifren, for serving, protecting and writing great novels—not to mention being excellent company during so many fine dinners
Contents
Chapter 1 (#u633a61a4-ad72-5845-9657-a2e01e11bcec)
Chapter 2 (#uc7170187-f24b-54d4-8a1f-e7bc40fb45e3)
Chapter 3 (#uc9808ab0-4872-52bb-bb7e-b127bcb488e1)
Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
1
A month ago…
“YOUR FATHER’S GUILTY.” Framed in the doorway to the squad room with uniformed officers milling behind her, Judith Hunt stood before him, her posture perfect. She was wearing a gray silk suit with a jacket most people would have removed due to the summer heat. Farther behind her, through a window, sunlight glanced off the jagged steel Manhattan skyline in hot metallic flashes. “You know it,” she continued, surveying him through suspicious blue eyes, “and I know it, Steele.”
Steele, Sully thought. She usually used his last name, probably because she knew it grated on his nerves; on the rare occasion she used his first, it was always “Sullivan,” never “Sully.”
Standing behind his desk, he glanced down at the files littering the surface, his attention settling on a festive mug the officers had given him last Christmas. To Captain Steele: the Great Protector, it said, invoking Sully’s nickname. The mug, when presented, had been brimming over with red-and-green condoms.
At least his men knew he was dedicated to ensuring safety. And unlike Judith, they had a sense of humor. Realizing with a start that she was scrutinizing his possessions, Sully shifted his eyes to hers again. He hated that he was reassessing everything now, wondering what conclusions Judith was drawing about him from the items, but he was glad the files made him look busy, which he was, and that she’d noticed the mug, since it showed his men cared.
The only thing Sully regretted was the ship in a bottle. Too personal, he decided. He’d built the ships when he was a kid, and he’d brought some into the office from a collection he’d otherwise divided between his parents’ home and his downtown apartment. Built inside a Scotch bottle, the English galleon had five raised sails. It was from the late sixteenth century, with a sleek hull and low superstructure that rose toward a slate-and-teal-painted quarterdeck.
She arched an eyebrow. “A pirate ship?”
He shrugged with a casualness he never really felt in her presence, though why, he didn’t know, since he was no stranger to beautiful women. Many times, his job had taken him into the homes of actresses and models. “Doesn’t that figure?” he inquired mildly. “After all, my father’s a crook, right?”
“I’m not sure a pirate ship’s an appropriate ornament for the desk of a precinct captain,” she agreed calmly.
“I find flying a Jolly Roger very appropriate, Ms. Hunt.”
“The Jolly Roger?”
“Jolie Rouge,” Sully clarified, the French words feeling sensual in his mouth as he nodded toward the ship. “A red flag. They were meant to communicate that no quarter would be given. That any battle would be to the death.”
“I’ll take that under advisement.” A heartbeat passed. “And thanks for the history lesson.”
“No problem,” he returned amiably. “Where better than a precinct headquarters to intimidate adversaries into surrender, to avoid costly fights?”
Judith knew very well he was referring to the near eruption of emotions that occurred whenever they met, which lately had been far more often than Sully would have preferred. “Is that what you’re trying to do?” she countered, her lips twisting in a challenging smile. “Intimidate me?”
He fought not to roll his eyes. If Sully didn’t know better, he’d think the edginess of these encounters was due to Judith’s attraction to him. She wouldn’t be the first woman to be drawn to him. “Would that be possible?”
“No. So if you’re trying, it’s not working, Steele.”
There it was again. Steele. He’d worked with Judith ever since her transfer from the city’s legal department to the investigative unit in Internal Affairs a few years ago, and now, for the umpteenth time, Sully wondered what made such a beautiful woman distrustful enough to spend her time prosecuting cops.
And she was beautiful—if a man could tolerate her attitude long enough to notice. She was nearly six feet tall. The hair hanging just past her shoulders was such a rich chocolate-brown that it appeared black. Her eyes were blue or violet, depending on the light, and framed by dark arching wisps of eyebrows. Her mouth, always highlighted by crimson lipstick, was so remarkable that it had earned her the nickname Lips. No officer said it to her face, of course, but the name was well-deserved. Sully wasn’t the first to wonder how that mouth would taste.
She was clearly fighting exasperation. “Aren’t you going to say anything more?”
“Why bother?” Sully asked dryly, pushing aside the tails of his brown suit jacket so his hands could delve into his trouser pockets. He’d rolled down his shirtsleeves, donned the jacket and reknotted his tie as soon as he’d heard Judith was on her way up to his office. This morning hadn’t been bad, but the afternoon was heating up, and he’d just gotten a memo saying that the city, fearing brownouts as the heat worsened, was requiring that air-conditioning run low in public buildings. So far this summer they’d been lucky, but Sully’s instincts told him this might be the last comfortable day. Right now, in the jacket, he felt as though he were being baked in a slow oven. It didn’t help that Judith looked as cool as a cucumber.
“What do you mean, why bother?” Judith was saying, her voice a soft echo.
“I mean, when it comes to Pop, you’ve already played judge, jury and executioner. What’s to discuss?”
Her crimson lips parted slightly, just enough that he caught a flash of her perfect teeth, a sliver of velvet tongue. The flattened palms of slender, manicured hands smoothed down the sides of her gray silk skirt. She was probably trying not to prop those hands on her hips, but the movement only served to accentuate the long-boned grace of her thighs. “The facts,” she continued, oblivious of the effect she had on him. “Discussing those could keep us busy for quite some time.”
Pulling his eyes from her legs, Sully said, “Given all the dirty cops you suspect live in this city, I figured you’d be busy enough without coming downtown to keep me company.”
“Your lack of concern about my investigation into your father’s affairs brings you under suspicion, Steele. And if you’ll protect your father, Internal Affairs has to assume you’ll also protect your men—”
“I am concerned,” he countered flatly. He’d just come from a family powwow at his parents’ home, not that he’d tell her that. Both his brothers, Rex and Truman, were cops, and they were just as intent as he on solving the riddle of their father’s disappearance. “And nobody in my precinct’s on the take, Judith,” he added. He’d used her Christian name this time, and he was glad to see it grated every bit as much as when she called him Steele. Good. He’d keep using it.
She nodded curtly. “If anyone is, we’ll find out.”
Was she really going to use his father’s disappearance as an excuse to crack down on his department? “Are you threatening me?”
Her eyes locked with his. “Should I be?”
“Are you?”
“I’m doing my job.”
“And you’re good at it,” he admitted with grudging respect.
“If you think flattery will make me back off,” she replied, as if he’d just confirmed every low-down, dirty suspicion she’d ever had about him, “you’ve seriously underestimated me.”
He’d done no such thing. He knew Judith Hunt’s résumé like the back of his hand—just as she undoubtedly knew his. “We should be working together on this.”
She stared at him as if he were the most thoroughly dense man she’d ever encountered. “Which is exactly why I’m here,” she said, not about to let him sidetrack her. “Joe wants—”
“Your boss is my father’s ex-partner,” Sully interjected, speaking of Joe Gregory. “They went through the academy together, then partnered up in Hell’s Kitchen.” After that, they’d begun busting gangs and mobsters in Chinatown. Years later, when Joe wound up working in administration at Police Plaza, he’d brought Augustus Steele on board. “Joe knows he’s innocent.”
If she had been privy to the previous connection between the men, she kept it to herself. “That may well be,” she said, her tone dubious, “but Joe’s the one who sent me to question you. He wants your father found—”
“I want Pop found, too,” Sully interrupted, years of experience as a police officer enabling him to keep the indignation from his voice. “Because when he’s found, he’ll offer the explanation that’ll clear his name.”
“I want him found—” Judith’s blue eyes turned steely in a way that indicated she knew more than she was telling “—so that I can prosecute him.”
“In this case, you care more about making a collar,” Sully accused softly, “than about discovering the truth.” He paused, taking a calming breath. “What information do you have that you’re not sharing?”
“None,” she assured him.
He came right out with it. “You’re lying.”
“Steele, your father was caught on videotape, withdrawing seven million dollars in public funds. He transferred the money from Citicorp, then picked it up at People’s National in two suitcases. The money belongs to the Citizens Action Committee—”
“I know that.” Did she really believe he hadn’t acquainted himself with the case? “It’s a fund set up so citizens can donate to the police without raising questions of impropriety. Pop endorses and deposits the checks. It’s a routine part of his job.”
“Right. And the money’s usually invested—”
“With the Dispersion Committee deciding where to spend it.” Sully’s own precinct had benefited from the fund the previous year, getting allocations for new squad cars. “Why wasn’t the money invested?” Judith might offer him that much, at least. “Why was it available for a cash transfer?”
“Because someone was planning to steal it?” she said dryly.
Cute. “Not my father,” he stated once more. “My brothers and I are convinced he stumbled onto an embezzlement scheme at Police Plaza.”
Her eyes widened in astonishment. “You think somebody other than your father was going to steal the money?”
Sully nodded, choosing to ignore her sarcasm. “We think Pop withdrew the money, then hid it, so whoever was planning to steal it couldn’t do so.”
“Then why didn’t your father contact Internal Affairs?”
“Because somebody at I.A. is involved?” he suggested.
Her soft grunt of protest did odd things to Sully’s blood, both warming it and making it race. For a second, she sounded like a woman being pleasured in bed, an impression that was undercut by her words. “Steele, that’s stretching. Your father’s guilty. He took seven million in cash. It’s a fortune in public money. No one would have let him take it from a bank, but years ago, he worked a mob-related bank heist at People’s National, so the banker felt he knew him.”
“The banker did know him.”
“The banker thought he was honest,” Judith clarified.
“Pop is honest,” Sully shot back.
Again she uttered that soft grunt that made Sully wonder if she’d sound like that while making love. If making love was the right terminology. After all, she was brilliant. She’d been at the top of her class in law school, and like many overachievers, she was tightly controlled, her manner challenging. Possibly, that control would extend to the bedroom.
Yeah, she was the kind of woman who’d let her mind get in the way of what her body wanted in bed, Sully figured. But then again, he could be wrong. Judith was also beautiful and inaccessible—a dangerous package. Maybe she was the type who was all-control until she suddenly let loose like an animal. Sometimes when he thought about it—which, of course, he tried not to—he imagined having hard, urgent sex with her. Hands roughly pushing up the hemline of her conservative skirts, buttons popping off blouses that covered small, firm breasts, panties trapped around thighs…
“About an hour ago, I met some eyewitnesses who placed your father at the Manhattan Yacht Club,” she was saying. “They saw him there late last night, boarding a boat named the Destiny.”
Realizing his mind had strayed, and that his mouth had gone dry, Sully pulled his attention back to the case. He nodded. “Right. That’s the boat that exploded off Seduction Island early this morning. Did your informants say he was alone when he boarded?”
She hesitated. “Witnesses didn’t mention seeing anyone else on deck.”
