Going All Out

Slipping off her coat, Bree hiked up her dress to rig broken threads of sequins so she wouldn’t trash the town house. She’d been inside once before, and even with the huge windows shuttered against the night, Josie’s place managed to be as warm and welcoming as Josie herself.

The spacious rooms were filled with stylish wicker and sunny colors and woodwork painted bright white. Bree thought the look contrasted nicely with the weathered exteriors and ornate ironwork that made up all the centuries-old town houses in historic Court du Chaud.

As she and her sister had only moved into the court last year, Bree didn’t know Josie all that well. They both worked a lot. Bree divided her time between Toujacques and her moonlighting for a local fashion designer, so get-togethers generally happened at homeowners’ association and Krewe du Chaud meetings or brush-bys for coffee in Café Eros, the bistro where her sister worked.

But Bree liked Josie and wished her well in married life. Many of the court’s residents seemed to be getting on with their futures lately. Even Tally had gotten engaged to Christien and bought the nightclub she’d been longing for. Claire and Randy had hooked up. Perry and Jack, too. And after learning about her shot at the head hostess job tonight, Bree had thought she’d been moving on with her life, too.

Until her past had followed her home.

“Found it,” Lucas said when he returned from upstairs.

He’d thrown on sweatpants, and she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d have been so affected by this man if she hadn’t met him when he’d been half-naked.

Probably. The man was gorgeous, all touchable and male. Not at all like Jude, who was almost too pretty to be real. Up close Lucas had the same sable-colored hair as his sister and eyes as bright green. The combination tempered his chiseled features. Otherwise that strong face and drop-dead gorgeous body combined made him almost too male. If such a thing was possible.

Setting the first-aid kit on the table, Lucas sank to his knees in front of her. He hesitated with his hands poised over her ankle and asked, “Do you mind?”

“Have at it.” Lifting aside her destroyed dress, she gave him a bird’s-eye view of the carnage.

Both knees were a mess. Scratches streaked her skin, and blood had congealed on the torn edges of her hose. One particularly nasty branch had carved a crevasse up her thigh.

Lucas frowned and stood again, giving her a tour of that magnificent chest as he grabbed the kit again and said, “Come with me.”

“Where are we going?”

“To the sink.”

Okay, there was no arguing she needed soap and water. She’d come out on the bad end of the dirt and mulch in Josie’s flower bed, so she followed him into the kitchen without comment.

Lucas flipped on a light, deposited the kit on the counter and ran the water. “Take off your stockings.”

“We only met ten minutes ago.”

He laughed. “We need to clean those cuts well or you’ll wind up wishing you did. Trust me.”

“Another lesson learned in law-enforcement training?”

“From my mother.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me? I’m sure she tended lots of boo-boos while you were growing up.”

His expression morphed into a full-fledged smile that softened his features and brightened his eyes and coaxed a reaction low in her belly. A crazy sort of swooping feeling that distracted her from her aches and pains.

“I’d be lying if I said no. Now lose the stockings.”

“I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.” She made a little humph sound and couldn’t resist giving him a show while slithering her hose out from underneath her dress.

She could feel his gaze on her when she bent over to unfasten her sandals and wondered if he noticed the way her neckline drooped, if he watched her cleavage plump forward. Did he think she was taunting him? Or flirting?

She wasn’t entirely sure which it was herself.

There was something about this man that made Bree want a reaction. Probably nothing more than a need to flex her control muscles after the shock of seeing Jude again.

And she got one.

Lucas grabbed her, strong hands circling her waist. He lifted her up to a seat on the counter and without preamble he brushed aside her torn dress and got to business.

She braced back on her arms, feeling a bit breathless as he cleansed her skin with soapy gauze.

“That feel okay?” he asked.

“I’ll live.”

“So why’d you drop by tonight?”

Questions were inevitable, but she had to give Lucas credit for not starting the interrogation the minute he found her.

“I noticed someone following me while I was walking home from work. It was late, and I’m not exactly dressed to defend myself. I decided to beat a hasty retreat.”

He peered at her from beneath the silky fringe of thick lashes. “So you scaled a wall in a formal gown and high heels? I’m impressed. What kind of work do you do?”

This was another question she’d expected, and Bree wondered what type of work he thought she did.

Evening formal wear. Three in the morning. Dark street. Hmm.

“I work at Toujacques. I’m a VIP hostess.”

“Do you always walk home from work?”

“Not when it’s so late. I normally drive.”

“But not tonight.”

“Not tonight.” She knew he was waiting for some further explanation, but she wasn’t volunteering any. He didn’t need to know that her brother had flown home for the weekend from college and had borrowed her Jeep.

But to her surprise, Lucas didn’t push. He just tossed the filthy gauze in the trash and lathered a new batch with soap under running water. He started working on her other knee and went back to his original line of questioning.

“Did this someone threaten you?” he asked.

“Didn’t give him a chance. Didn’t want to lead him to my front door, either, so here I am.”

Bree expected a lecture on the perils of walking through the French Quarter alone at night. Men like Lucas were invariably throwbacks from the feudal days when the rich and powerful protected the weak and defenseless.

But instead of a warning, Bree got strong hands on her thighs. It was a casual touch—if any stranger’s touch in such an intimate place could really be casual. Perfunctory might be a better description. The thing was…his touch didn’t feel perfunctory.

Even though he only tended her cut, she felt him everywhere. Heat melted through her, and she was so very aware of her parted thighs. Probably because she didn’t wear panties beneath her panty hose, which put this man’s strong hands in very close proximity to some oh-so-bare private places.

“So are you enjoying your stay in New Orleans?” she asked to distract herself from the feel of his hands and to end the discussion about why she’d dropped in for a visit.

“I always enjoy coming home.”

“Josie told me she bought this place from your parents after they retired to Florida. You were reared here?”

“Court du Chaud homegrown.”

Ironic that he’d take off for California when she and Tally had always thought the court would be the best place in the world to live. “Is that why you’re hanging around while Josie and Max are on their honeymoon? Visiting friends?”

“One of the reasons. My parents stayed after the wedding, too. I wanted to see them off. And my sister has me doing some work around here.”

“What sort of work?”

“Cleaning out the attic. My mom’s a pack rat. She stashed memorabilia the whole time we were growing up, then left it all when she moved. Josie’s afraid the fire marshal will condemn the place. Now that she and Max are married, they’re making some decisions about living arrangements, and she wants to make sure I take everything I want in case they decide to sell the place.”

“Couldn’t live without your baseball trophies, hmm?”

“Or the sculpture of Cupid I made Mom in third grade.”

“It’s still around?”

“Give or take a few limbs.”

“I can see why you’d want to save it.”

“Absolutely. Some superglue and I’ve got the perfect Mother’s Day gift.”

Bree smiled. Oddly she had no trouble imagining Lucas as a young boy making sculptures for his mother. Maybe the way he tended her injuries with such a gentle touch made such a caring gesture seem to fit this strong man.

“So tell me, are you the twin I’ve heard singing?” After tossing the gauze into the trash, Lucas fished through the first-aid kit.

“’Fraid I’m going to disappoint you again. My sister’s the singer in the family.”

“Just you and her?”

“Got a musically inclined brother, too. I’m the untalented one of our illustrious bunch. No treasure hunts. No musical talent. The younger twin, wouldn’t you know? Something to do with the gene pool, I’m guessing. Watered things down a bit.”

Glancing up from his task, he dragged his bright gaze over her in a lazy caress. “Untalented?”

“One in every bunch.”

“Scaling a tree in this dress and those shoes? Ever thought about stunt work?”

She laughed. Lucas was proving to be a chuckle a minute, easy to be around for a man she’d just met under some very tenuous circumstances. Bree must really be off her stride after all the night’s shocks. She usually had much more self-control.

But when Lucas patted the antiseptic wipe against her thigh, then blew gently to soothe away the sting, she felt the tingle of his warm breath from the top of her head to her toes.

“Still okay?” he asked.

“Mmm-hmm.” The antiseptic burned, but her awareness of his mouth overrode any other sensation.

She could feel the determination in his touch, but she sensed compassion in the warm burst of breath against her skin. He was a surprise, this one. Bree made her career catering to overindulged rich men who lived life for new challenges. She recognized Lucas as one. No mistake.

But there was something else here, too.

She wasn’t sure what it was. Not the way he’d chosen to play the knight in skimpy towel.

What self-respecting man wouldn’t rescue a damsel in distress?

It wasn’t the way he’d dragged her inside to care for her boo-boos either.

No, Bree wasn’t at all surprised that he’d charged in to save her.

Maybe she was surprised by how glad she was that he had.

2

TOUCHING THIS WOMAN with no hope of making love to her was nothing short of torture, Lucas decided. He cleansed the slash that marred Bree’s skin, an innocent touch that inspired some not-so-innocent thoughts. He wanted to run his fingers up her leg and feel her muscles tense beneath his touch. He wanted to lean over and press his mouth to her thigh and watch her react.

He couldn’t ever remember being so attracted to a woman.

But he’d never met a woman like Bree before either.

She wasn’t what Lucas had expected to find in the bushes when he’d heard noises from outside earlier. Some kid who’d sneaked out his bedroom window for a late-night party on Bourbon Street, maybe. Or a trapped raccoon escaped from the wildlife rescue shelter down the street.

Not this intensely desirable neighbor who was playing hell all over his restraint.

Forcing himself to focus on his task, Lucas stood between her spread knees and tried not to be affected by the sight of her. A lost cause. Not only hadn’t he dated since a Swedish scientist had skyrocketed his libido past the stratosphere, but the way Bree braced back on her hands gave him an incredible view of her gown bunching up around her hips. All that sparkly fabric molded her narrow waist and full breasts, and the pulse beating quickly at the base of her throat made him hope she’d noticed his nearness, too.

Her exotic eyes were as dark as the sable hair that fell in lustrous waves over her shoulders, a rich color that contrasted strikingly with her creamy-gold skin. She had a mouth that looked as if she’d just been kissed, full lips that managed to be as expressive as her flashing eyes.

From the instant he’d seen her at Josie’s wedding, Lucas had thought Bree one of the most stunning women he’d ever laid eyes on. Impossibly beautiful because there were two of her. Her twin was a mirror image, and while he knew there must be differences, he hadn’t gotten close enough to discern them.

Nor had he managed an introduction. With family and friends coming in from far and wide for the celebration, uncles, aunts, cousins and acquaintances who he’d barely recognized had cornered him through the entire reception.

According to Josie, the twin who’d found the treasure had gotten engaged after her adventure. Since his sister hadn’t mentioned anything about this twin’s situation, Lucas didn’t know much about Bree.

He’d admired her from a distance, though, or them, because without formal introductions they were a duo in his mind—the twins from Number One—but from the moment Bree had gazed into his face and her hand had slipped inside his, she’d become the woman who made him respond.

He’d been feeling the effects ever since.

Granted, it had been a while since the Swedish scientist, and he hadn’t met anyone interesting enough to pursue since then. But Lucas knew chemistry, and it was tearing through him right now. He struggled to carry his half of the conversation as thoughts of what he’d like to be doing to Bree distracted him.

Run his hands along her thighs…. Investigate what was going on beneath the hem of her dress…. Find out if she was as attracted as he was.

He couldn’t decide if Bree was flirting with him. She was a beautiful woman who would no doubt be used to men gawking, so he suspected she was charming as a matter of course. Her job as a hostess would demand that.

But Lucas wanted to know more about what had brought her into his backyard tonight. Given the damage she’d endured to her person, she must have been very serious about getting away from whoever had been following her.

He didn’t think this woman would frighten easily.

“So what does a VIP hostess do?” He gently probed her skin, searching for debris. Finding her scratches pink and clean, he tossed the antiseptic wipe and went for the antibiotic ointment.

“I’m guessing you don’t gamble much,” she said.

“Some buddies and I head into Vegas every so often to make a weekend of it. I went to a wedding there once.”

Her mouth pursed in a thoughtful moue, red, ripe and ready to be kissed. “In a nutshell, it’s my job to keep my guests happy so they don’t have to think about anything but spending their money at our tables. I arrange their meals and their schedules. I entertain their families while they’re gaming.”

“Sounds demanding.”

“Sometimes. What a man wants is what he gets.”

There were so many places Lucas could take that statement. Of course, his supercharged libido conjured up images of her stretched out before him much in the way she was right now, thighs parted, breasts thrust forward.

Wearing nothing but a smile.

He knew what he wanted. “Lucky guys.”

She only shrugged.

Running a fingertip down her thigh, he traced the outer edge of a scratch. “We definitely need to cover this one. What do you think about your knees? I’ve got some bandages here that should do the trick.”

Her eyes shuttered beneath thickly fringed lashes as she stared at the scratches, considering. “Please. I’d like to get home without all this greasy ointment on my dress. I’ve done enough damage tonight already.”

“Take it off. I’ll get you a towel. We’ve got neighbors who’d like watching you parade through the court.”

Tilting her head to the side, she sent a wave of glossy hair tumbling over a shoulder as she laughed. “Wouldn’t want to steal your thunder.”

“Plenty of thunder to share.”

“Gracious of you. But I’m just glad you weren’t asleep when I dropped in. My luck and you’d have awakened and called the police before I raised the white flag.”

“I’m glad, too.” He met her gaze, drawn to the way those eyes flashed with humor, daring, excitement. Such expressive eyes.

“So tell me, Lucas. Do you always shower so late at night? Or is this early morning for you?”

“Late. I was working and lost track of time.”

“Designing law-enforcement software?”

He nodded. “A job perk. I work anytime, anywhere.”

“Lucky you.”

Lucas agreed. Especially when he got to touch her again, smoothing the antibiotic ointment up her thigh. Her skin was supple and velvety-soft beneath his fingers. Each stroke became an effort of will. He wanted to trail his hands even higher. His blood started a throbbing descent toward his crotch, and Lucas wondered what he’d been thinking when he’d put on these sweatpants. A tight seam right now would have worked.

“What are the other job perks to writing law-enforcement software?” she asked.

Hearing that slight breathlessness to her voice steeled his resolve not to let her see how she affected him, not when she worked so hard to keep him guessing about how he was affecting her. “Owning the company, for starters. I come and go as I please. I touch base with my office staff and my programmers a lot, but that’s what the phone, fax and Internet are for.”

“So you’re a high-tech kind of guy. I’m a little surprised. Josie strikes me as very traditional.”

After watching his sister pursue her new husband through the decades, Lucas wasn’t sure he’d go straight to traditional. “Josie’s more of a people person.”

“Meaning you’re not?”

He shrugged. “I spend a lot of time in the field, getting to know what’s happening inside various law-enforcement agencies. That’s how I learn what they need from their software and how to provide it.”

“You get bored easily, don’t you? You like a challenge.”

There was something in her voice, and he couldn’t pinpoint whether liking challenges was good or bad in her estimation. Either way, he couldn’t deny the charge. “I do.”

“And the freedom of traveling.”

He smoothed a strip of adhesive tape over her thigh, securing gauze over the cut. “Like I said, give me a laptop with a satellite uplink and I can work anywhere.”

And frequently did. One particular bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean came quickly to mind. Then there was a national park where he felt like the only person on the planet. He could think better when his head was quiet, late night or early morning or during the day with nothing but the surf breaking on the cliffs or the wind rustling through the trees.

He’d worked hard to shape his life to his wants, which was why he couldn’t understand when it had all become so routine. Work had been his only salvation from a growing sense of discontent, and when he came across a new interest, there was no avoiding how lifeless everything else had become by comparison.

Bree Addison felt like a challenge.

“Here we go.” He wrapped up his triage with a large bandage over each knee. “Feel good?”

She nodded, sitting up to survey the result. “You’re very good with your hands. Thank you.”

“All in a night’s work.”

She laughed at that, a whiskey-rich sound that filtered through him with a lot more impact than a laugh should have.

Lucas didn’t want to let her go yet. The idea of brewing coffee and greeting the dawn while continuing their conversation appealed, but he had no real reason to keep her here.

He settled for retrieving her shoes, thinking it was sort of a sad commentary on what his life had become that he had to devise ways to keep a beautiful woman with him.

“Allow me.” He reached for a shapely ankle.

“Tell me, Lucas. What did I do to deserve all this five-star treatment? By all rights, you could have sent me downtown for trespassing.”

“And let the police have all the fun of interrogating you? I don’t think so.”

She treated him to that laugh again, a sound as dusky and sultry as the dark outside, a sound that shouldn’t feel physical but did.

Dragging his hand down her ankle, Lucas explored the feel of her smooth skin beneath his fingers and hoped he wasn’t being too obvious. Bree had feet as delicate as the rest of her and as well groomed. Her toes boasted perfectly maintained nails in a subtle red shade that matched her manicure.

He slid the sandal into place, then attempted to fasten the strap around her ankle.

“Here, let me,” she said. “You might be very good with your hands, but this is a job for smaller fingers.”

She brushed him away with a warm touch. Her hair swung forward in a silky wave as she leaned over, and Lucas stood rooted to the spot, inhaling a breath that was subtly spicy fragrance and all enticing woman.

With a few deft maneuvers, Bree fastened the strap, then extended her other foot. “Teamwork.”

He only slid on her remaining sandal and let her work her magic while he tried again to gauge whether he was having an effect on her. She seemed breathless, too fast with her answers, so when she finished fastening her sandal, Lucas slipped his hands around her waist and helped her off the counter.

The air charged with awareness. The top of her head didn’t quite reach his nose, so his every breath filled with the scent of her. He fought down the urge to pull her close—one easy move and she would mold sleekly against him, all feminine curves he knew would align perfectly. Her breasts would press against his chest. Her hips would tip and cradle what threatened to become a raging erection.

She raised her dark eyes and peered beneath her lashes. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Bree.” He wanted to kiss her more than he could remember ever wanting to kiss before, but the expression in her gaze stopped him. There was something there…something almost amused, as if she was well aware of the impact of her beauty and expected him to be unable to resist her.

That look dared him to resist.

“I’m glad you dropped in tonight.” By sheer effort of will, he moved away, found even those few inches helped to clear his head. “I’ve enjoyed meeting you.”

“I’ve enjoyed meeting you, too. Thanks for rescuing me.”

That made him smile. He’d never met a woman less in need of rescuing than Bree Addison. He might have helped her out with some first aid, but as she watched him with those exotic eyes and kissing lips, Lucas knew that this woman was shielding a lot behind the mysterious expression.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said.

He half expected her to blow off his offer and vanish as suddenly as she’d appeared. But she only said, “Thank you,” and grabbed her coat.

Perhaps she was concerned about heading back out into the dark alone. As she’d proven tonight, Court du Chaud wasn’t a world unto itself. Their court was part of the busy French Quarter that teemed with the lighter and darker sides of life.

Although the idea of her being in danger on a walk home from work disturbed him, he wasn’t unhappy with the result—the chance to meet her.

After pulling on a sweatshirt and shoes at the door, Lucas escorted her into a night where the moon hung low over Court du Chaud, tightly knit town houses that Captain Gabriel Dampier had built nearly two centuries before. The captain had been a comrade of Jean Lafitte and other privateers during a time when New Orleans had needed swashbuckling men who were bold enough to break rules and take chances. Men whose courage and disregard for the law had made them heroes.

Court du Chaud was typical French Quarter, with metal filigree balconies and wrought-iron gates surrounding small front yards. Ornamental lamps spilled golden light into the night along a cobbled walkway.

Neighbors often met in the gardened piazza, chatting around the fountain or relaxing on benches. Older kids tore through on their bikes and skateboards, while younger kids chalked up the cobbles with hopscotch and four squares.

At Christmas the residents erected and decorated a towering tree. At the start of each new year they gathered to shoot off a dazzling display of fireworks. At Easter they hid colored eggs for the kids to hunt. On Fourth of July they picnicked and opened the fire hydrants to cool off.