Carly Phillips - Body Heat

She crossed her legs and began to flip through the pages once more, stopping only when she reached the article entitled, “Sexy City Nights.” “Lovers in New York City.” “Hot Spots, Hot Nights, Hotter Sheets.” Brianne laughed despite herself, but when she caught a glimpse of the photos, she stopped and looked closer. In the first, dusk was setting around a couple outside an ice-cream shop, and memories of Brianne’s night at Peppermint Park with Jake came flooding back into her mind.

When she thought of that night, it wasn’t the sex that stood out, although it had been incredible. And it wasn’t the dessert, although the rich treat had been delicious. What stood out was how hard Jake had tried to pick a place that would mean something to her. How he’d attempted to give back what she’d been deprived of in the past. And how he’d believed her when she’d questioned him about being followed. He may not have revealed his suspicions, but he hadn’t discounted hers, either. Not the way her parents had, way back when.

Because he cared.

Not that his caring meant she’d forgiven him for cuffing her to this damn chair, but if his reasons mirrored hers for walking into The Eclectic Eatery in the first place, she could begin to understand.

Caring. Love. A future? All things she now knew she wanted. She couldn’t stand by and watch him walk out of her life without a fight. Losing him that way wouldn’t be as bad as losing him to a bullet-because he’d be alive-but he was worth fighting for. They were worth fighting for. She realized now that she could live with his risky life because she didn’t want to live without him. Not if she had a choice.

She studied the pictures on her lap. Interesting, erotic images of ecstasy. Without warning, Norton lifted his head and stood, then began barking and bolted for the other room.

“Traitor,” she muttered. “Jake?” she called. She rose and started to walk, but the chair and the cuffs held her back. “You’re going to pay for this,” she yelled out in frustration.

She heard the heavy tread of footsteps coming toward the kitchen. “Come uncuff me, will you?” Then maybe she could work on the forgiving angle. Maybe.

“My pleasure.”

Brianne turned toward the open doorway of the room in time to put a face to the voice-the accented voice of a man who couldn’t be anyone other than Louis Ramirez.

HE’D ACTUALLY HANDCUFFED Brianne. And guilt lay like lead in Jake’s stomach. He took the elevator down to the lobby. He waved to the doorman who followed him out, holding the door open as he exited the building. Jake turned right at the corner and headed for the subway, but the entire time his conscience and his heart told him to go back. So did the niggling in his brain that had begun when Vickers called and told him Ramirez was turning himself in.

Jake shook his head at his thoughts. He was just preoccupied with Brianne, as usual looking for any excuse to put her before this case. He couldn’t believe she wouldn’t do something as simple as promising him she’d sit tight. And he reminded himself she wouldn’t be tied up now if he’d been able to trust her. Stubborn, headstrong woman. She’d already proven she’d take dangerous risks, given the right incentive.

The right incentive. Jake paused at the top of the steps leading down to the subway. When I love someone, I stick by them. Her words came back to him-Brianne’s incentive for making that trip to The Eclectic Eatery. When I love someone…

His heart squeezed tight in his chest, and Jake slapped his hand against the hard metal railing. How the hell had he let those words slip by him unnoticed? Because for the first time since meeting Brianne, he’d been a cop before a man. A detective before the man who loved her in return.

He’d turned a deaf ear to her words and her pleas. He’d cuffed her to a chair and left her alone…so he could watch Ramirez walk himself into a police station and willingly give up?

Not likely. Jake shook his head as reality reared its head. There wasn’t a chance in hell Ramirez would willingly admit defeat and surrender. No possibility at all. Which meant…the phone call to the cops had been a setup.

“Shit.” Jake turned and hit the street at a dead run. He only hoped he wasn’t too late.

A few minutes, but what felt like hours later, he re-entered the building-and the doorman was nowhere in sight. A quick glance behind the desk confirmed Jake’s worst fears. The man lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. The whoosh of revolving doors sounded in his ear, and he turned around in time to see an unfamiliar couple walk in the door.

“Where’s Harry?” the woman asked.

Jake didn’t think she’d like his answer, so he dug into his pocket and flashed his badge instead-a move that stopped both people cold and had them exchanging wary glances.

Jake reached behind the desk for the telephone and pulled it onto the high counter. “Call 911. Give the police the address and tell them it’s the penthouse,” Jake called over his shoulder as he ran for the elevator.

During the silent ride up to the apartment, Jake’s life passed in front of his eyes. It was a cliché he’d heard other cops describe, but it was real. And everything he saw, everything he wanted now and in the future, included Brianne-if Ramirez hadn’t hurt or killed her already, he thought fearfully.

Moving on autopilot, he removed his sneakers in order to maintain the element of surprise. He positioned himself flat against the side of the enclosed area, a place that he hoped hid him from immediate view. At last, the elevator doors slid open. A quick glance told him Brianne and Ramirez weren’t in the open entryway.

Gun in hand, he crept silently into the apartment. He knew better than to call out, but damn he wished he knew where to check first. Though he’d left Brianne in the kitchen, it seemed unlikely Ramirez would keep her in the open, unlocked room. Then again, he’d have to move both Brianne and her chair, something Jake knew Brianne wouldn’t allow. Not without a kicking, screaming fight.

He started toward the kitchen, just as Norton ran into the room, doing his infamous run-and-skid routine. The dog normally saved the bit for Brianne. Norton being happy to see Jake when Brianne was around was unusual, and the knot in Jake’s stomach tightened.

He knelt down beside the excited dog. “Come on, boy. Where is she?” he whispered.

Norton nudged Jake’s leg and started running. Jake mentally took back any bad thing he’d ever said or thought about the dog. In Jake’s book, loyalty to Brianne counted for everything. The dog led him to the kitchen. As Jake got closer, he heard the sounds of a scuffle.

No matter how much he wanted to storm into the room, he had to know what was going on first. Jake paused alongside the wall to the left of the entry and looked around the corner and into the room where he’d left Brianne. He nearly lost control at what he saw.

Ramirez loomed over Brianne. Her blouse was torn, and Ramirez rested his hand, which held a gun, on her shoulder, while his free hand hovered over her breast. Fury and a possessiveness unlike any he’d ever known ripped through Jake, but the other man’s gun kept him silent. He knew he didn’t have a clear shot at Ramirez as long as the thug stood in front of Brianne.

Taking a gamble, Jake walked into plain view and leveled his gun at the other man. “Let her go, Louis.”

Ramirez rose to his full height and turned, but kept his weapon on Brianne’s shoulder, aimed at her head. “Welcome home, Detective.”

Jake’s aim didn’t falter, either. “Drop the gun.”

“As if you’re in any position to be giving orders.” A smirk pasted on his face, Louis cocked his weapon.

The noise echoed loudly in the room and even louder in Jake’s head. At the offending sound, the blood drained out of Brianne’s face. Her green eyes were wide, yet, at a glance, he saw the hidden strength he’d always known she possessed.

Hang in there. He tried to communicate silent support and a promise. He’d gotten her into this. He’d get her out. His heart rose in his chest, making his throat as raw as his emotions. He couldn’t lose her.

And he wouldn’t, Jake thought, immediately shifting his stare back to Ramirez.

“This is between us. Leave her out of it.”

“He sent me flowers, remember, Jake? I think that makes me part of things,” Brianne said.

Jake muttered a curse and started to sweat. He didn’t know what she was up to, but her odds of escaping safely rose only if she kept her mouth shut. He didn’t want her trying to elicit a confession or making herself even more expendable in Ramirez’s eyes. At this point, they’d have Ramirez on a good number of charges. Jake couldn’t give a damn about the drugs. All he wanted was an easy shot that didn’t put Brianne at risk of taking a bullet at the same time.

“Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman. Did you like them? It galls me to admit it, but you’ve got taste, Lowell. I wanted a bite for myself.” He ran the butt of the gun down Brianne’s cheek, and she stiffened in her seat. “It’s a pity I’m going to have to miss out. Screwing her would have been screwing you at the same time.” Ramirez laughed, the chilling sound a knife in Jake’s gut.

Brianne shuddered with a revulsion she couldn’t hide.

“Come on, Louis,” Jake said. “If you kill another cop, you won’t walk on a technicality this time.” And if he killed Brianne, Jake would make sure he took Ramirez out before going down himself.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Ramirez said.

Brianne glanced at Jake and silently implored him not to do something rash. She knew he longed for a deadly shot at Ramirez. One that would end things for good. She swallowed over the lump in her throat and refused to look down at her torn shirt.

But she knew, as if she could read his mind, that he blamed himself for her situation. He believed she sat in this chair with Ramirez holding a gun to her head because Jake had cuffed her and disappeared.

She couldn’t tell him now and might never get the chance, but she forgave him. Whether or not he loved her the way she loved him-and the jury was still out on that one since he’d had no reaction to her declaration earlier-she wouldn’t hold it against him. She understood that she’d cornered him until he had no choice but to protect her from herself.

He met her gaze again, and, in those brief moments, Brianne felt an unspoken shift in their relationship. An acknowledgment of emotion that would have to be dealt with-if they got out of this alive.

She gripped the seat of the chair with one hand; the other one was still cuffed to the chair and sore from being held back in an unnatural position. But Ramirez wasn’t allowing her any leeway.

“What about the guard you decked downstairs?” Jake asked, and Brianne realized Jake was trying to keep Ramirez talking and not shooting.

Ramirez shrugged as if the injured man were of no consequence. “How can anyone explain what a burned-out cop will do when he loses it?” he asked.

“You think the cops’ll blame me?”

Brianne remembered her self-defense class and gauged the angle from the bottom of her foot to Ramirez’s groin, but she still didn’t have a good target. And neither did Jake. Ramirez stood too close, partially blocking Brianne and definitely able to get a round off if Jake fired first. She wanted to cry in frustration.

“Ask me if I care,” Ramirez said. “As long as they can’t trace me to this apartment I’m fine.”

And he wore clear rubber gloves to make sure he got away clean, Brianne noticed. She looked around for a way out and saw Norton pacing by Jake’s feet. The dog had been agitated since Ramirez’s arrival, but he was no threat and the man obviously knew it because he’d left Norton unharmed. Thank God. But threat or not, the dog was definitely a potential distraction.

She tried to calculate the last time he’d been outside to do business and couldn’t remember. Her mind was too muddled with fear. Anxiety was only a breath away. Her breathing came in orderly succession only by sheer force of will. She couldn’t afford to become light-headed or pass out.

She glanced at the pooch and prayed Norton was in a complying mood. Brianne cleared her throat. Just as she hoped, the noise got the dog’s attention and he bounded from behind Jake, coming up in front of her and Ramirez.

“Get the damn dog out of here,” Ramirez said, but never dropped his weapon from its perch on her shoulder. “Before I shoot him myself.”

“No!” Realizing she’d yelled at the man holding a gun, she cringed. “I mean, please don’t. He’s harmless, okay?” She watched the dog pace in nervous circles at their feet. “He’s just doing his job. I mean, Norton does his business. He thinks he’s protecting me, don’t you, boy? He’s just doing business.”