Bodyguard: Outrageous / Riley

She ended in a shrug, and Judd realized how embarrassed she was. Or maybe she thought he’d mock her again, ridicule her for her consideration.

He raked a hand through his hair, still holding the sheet with a fist. “What have you got in there?”

He indicated the basket with a toss of his head. Emily’s smile was fleeting, and very relieved. She glanced around the room, taking in the apartment’s minimal furnishings: a couch, a small table with two chairs, a few lamps, a stereo, but no television. His bedroom sat off to the right, where the open door allowed her to see a small night table and a rumpled bed. The kitchen was merely a room divided by a small, three-foot bar.

He liked the place, even though the neighborhood was rough and the tenants noisy. It wasn’t home, but then he’d never really had a home, at least not one of his own. He’d lived with Max Henley a while, and that had seemed as close as he’d ever get to having a family. But that was before Max died. Ever since, his life had been centered on nailing Donner. Where he lived was a trivial matter.

He waited to see Emily’s reactions to the apartment, but she didn’t so much as blink. After a brief smile, she set the basket on the wobbly table, then opened it with a flourish. “Blueberry muffins, sausage links and fresh fruit.” She flashed him a quick, sweet smile. “And coffee.”

He was touched, he couldn’t help it. “I can’t believe you made me breakfast.”

“It’s not fancy, but you didn’t strike me as a man who would want escargots so early in the morning.”

He grimaced, then ended with a smile. “And you didn’t strike me as the type who would cook for a man.”

“I like to cook. My mother thinks it’s some faulty gene inherited from my ancestors. But since I’m not married, I don’t get to indulge very often.”

“What about dates? You could do some real nice entertaining in your house.”

She busied herself with setting out the food. “I don’t go out much.”

He wasn’t immune to her vulnerability. He reached out and touched her hand. “No woman has ever cooked for me before.”

She stared at him, shocked. “You’re kidding.”

Feeling a little stupid now for mentioning it, Judd shook his head. “Nope.”

“What about your mother?”

“Left when I was real little. My father raised me.”

“Oh.” Then she tilted her head. “The two of you are close?”

He laughed. “Hardly. Dad stayed drunk most of the time, and I tried to stay out of his hair, ’cause Dad could get real mean when he drank.”

“That’s awful!” She looked so outraged on his behalf, he grinned.

“It wasn’t as bad as all that, Em.”

“Of course it was. I think it sounds horrid. Did you have any brothers or sisters?”

“Nope.”

“So you were all alone?”

That was the softest, saddest voice he’d ever heard, and for some fool reason, he liked hearing it from her. “Naw. I had Max.”

“Max?”

“Yeah. See, I wasn’t all that respectable when I was younger, and Max Henley busted me trying to steal the tip he’d left for a waitress. With Max being a cop and all, I thought I’d end up in jail. But instead, he bought me lunch, chewed me out real good, then made me listen to about two hours’ worth of lectures on right and wrong and being a good man. I was only fourteen, so I can’t say I paid that much attention. When I finally got out of that restaurant, I didn’t think I’d ever go back. But I did. See, I knew Max ate his lunch there every day, so the next day, when he saw me hanging around, he invited me to join him. It became a routine, and that summer, he gave me a job keeping up his yard. After a while, Max kind of became like family to me.”

Emily was grinning now, too. “He was a father figure?”

“Father, mother, and sometimes as grumpy as an old schoolmarm. But he took good care of me. I guess you could say he was a complete ‘family figure.’” And Donner had robbed Judd of that family.

“He sounds like a wonderful man.”

“Yeah.” Judd looked away, wishing he’d never brought up the subject. “Max was the best. He’s dead now.”

“I’m sorry.”

Judd bit his upper lip, barely controlling the urge to hug her close. She had spoken so softly, with so much sincerity, her words felt like a caress. Somehow, she managed to lessen the pain he always felt whenever he thought of Max. God, he still missed him, though it had been nearly six months since Donner had killed him.

Judd nodded, then waited through an awkward silence while Emily looked around for something to do.

She went back to unloading her basket. As she opened the dishes, Judd inhaled the aromas. “Mmm. Smells good. Why don’t you get things ready while I put on some pants. Okay?”

“I’ll have the table set in a snap.” Then she grinned again. “I hope you’re hungry. I made plenty.”

Judd shook his head. She was wooing him with breakfast, a ploy as old as mankind, and he was succumbing without a struggle. If he was ever going to keep her safe, he’d have to keep his head and maintain the control. The only way to do that was to make certain some distance existed between them. He couldn’t be moved by every small gesture she made.

When he emerged from the bedroom two minutes later, Emily had everything on plates. He noticed there were two settings, so obviously she planned to eat with him. He also saw that, other than coffee mugs, she’d found only paper plates and plastic cutlery in his kitchen. But she didn’t seem put off by that fact. A tall thermos of coffee sat in the middle of the table. It smelled strong, just the way he liked it.

“This is terrific, Emily. I appreciate it.” Normally, he didn’t eat breakfast, but his stomach growled as he approached the table, and he couldn’t deny how hungry he was.

Emily poured his coffee, still smiling. “I thought we could talk while we eat. Maybe get to know each other a little better. I mean, we will be working together, and we’re practically strangers.”

He glanced up at her. “I wouldn’t say that.”

She blinked, then looked away. “How long have you been…ah…”

“Stripping?”

“Yes.” There was another bright blush on her cheeks. Judd wondered how she kept from catching fire.

“A while,” he said, keeping his answer vague.

“You…you like it?”

Good Lord. He laid down his fork and stared at her. She was the most unpredictable woman he’d ever met. Watching her eyes, he said, “Everyone should experience stripping at least once. It’s a fantasy, but most people don’t have the guts to try it.”

She sucked in her breath. The fork she had in front of her held a piece of sausage, ready to fall off. She looked guilty.

Ah. He smiled, reading her thoughts. “Admit it, Emily. You’ve thought of it, haven’t you? Imagine the men, or even one man, getting hotter with every piece of clothing you remove. Imagine his eyes staring at you, imagine him wanting you so bad he can’t stand it. But you make him wait, until you’re ready, until you’re completely…naked.”

She trembled, then put down her fork, folding her hands in her lap. Judd didn’t feel like smiling now; he felt like laying her across the table, tossing the skirt of her dress up around her shoulders and viewing all of her, naked. For him. He wanted to drive into her slim body and hear her scream his name. It angered him, the unaccountable way she could provoke his emotions, leaving him raw.

“You want to strip for me, Emily? I’ll be a willing audience, I can promise you that.”