Run the Risk

He wanted conversation. She bit her lip.

Okay, so maybe she’d ask him where he worked. Maybe, given his absurd pursuit, he would expect her to want to learn more about him.

God, he looked good all lounged out like that.

He had one arm up and over his head, showing off his biceps and the tuft of darker hair under his arm. Sinfully sexy. He kept the other bent at his side, his big hand opened over a tautly muscled abdomen. The setting sun glinted off his brown chest hair, turning it almost golden. He wasn’t overly hairy, just earthy and masculine.

No shaved chest for this guy, thank God.

His chest hair narrowed to a fine line down his body, skirted around his navel, and then, growing darker, disappeared into his shorts.

And below that, behind the fly of his shorts, a nice, full bulge.

Stepping farther out, she stared hard, enrapt.

Her heartbeat slowed, her breath deepened.

Logan opened one eye and found her visually molesting him again.

For several seconds they stared at each other, and then he said, “Hey,” in a deep, lazy, interested way.

Oh, no, no, no. Why did he have to be so…potent?

Busted, but never a coward, Pepper stepped out fully to the balcony. Hands clasped together in front of her, nervous smile in place, she said, “I, ah, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Just dozing.” A low rumbling growl accompanied a deep stretch. “No biggie.”

The stretch did interesting things to all those muscles: flexing, bulging, then letting them relax again, still prominent, but no longer tense.

So unfair. How could he look so good doing nothing?

Sitting up, he swung his long, hairy legs over the side of the chair. Even his big feet were beautiful!

After running a hand over his head, then his chest, he focused on her. “Getting ready to grill?”

How did he know that? “Um…”

“I could join you.” His gaze drilled into her. “I have my own steak I’d planned to throw on anyway. No reason we can’t share the grill, right?” And as an enticement, he added, “I’ll even bring the beer.”

That much proximity, given her sizzling awareness, could be treacherous. A little time with him, maybe. But the entirety of dinner? She’d be a fool to agree to such a… “Okay.” What?

Oh, my God, had that really come out of her mouth? Well of course it had. Look at him, sitting there like physical temptation, legs apart, expression lazy and skin sun-warmed.

She covered her mouth with a hand.

But she was only human after all, and if her downtrodden appearance didn’t keep him at bay, well then, what would it hurt?

As surprised as she, he said, “Seriously?” He straightened, his manner suspicious, his gaze going all over her.

What, did he think she had a concealed weapon? Did he expect her to wield a steak knife?

Did he expect ulterior motives?

Yes, of course, she had them—but they weren’t motives he’d ever guess.

Pepper dropped her hand and filled her lungs with the thick evening air. “As you said, there’s no reason for us to fire up both grills.”

“Well, hot damn.” Smiling, Logan pushed to his feet. “I got time to take a shower?”

Oh, she wished he wouldn’t. Her nose twitched with the need to smell him, to drink in his hot scent. “If you must.”

“Give me five minutes.” Without another word, he ducked back inside.

Hugging herself, Pepper sat down on her single patio chair. She felt deflated, concerned and absolutely filled with anticipation.

CHAPTER TWO

AFTER BREAKING SPEED RECORDS for a shower and shave, Logan punched in the number, then dried off one-handed while using his shoulder to hold his cell phone to his ear.

The second he got an answer, he said, “She took the bait.”

His partner, Reese, bit back a curse. “What does that mean, exactly? What did you do to her?”

Around a rough laugh, Logan said, “I didn’t do anything to her.” Ignoring the fact that he hoped to do a lot of things to her, he tossed aside the towel. “She agreed to share dinner with me, that’s all.” For now. But if things went right…

“I wish you’d rethink this, Logan.”

Why did Reese have to act as if he planned to molest her? “Fuck that. If I don’t get to the bottom of this, then who will?” No one else was willing to track down the truth. No one else dared go up against that scum, Morton Andrews.

No one else cared what had happened two years ago.

“Logan—”

Skin still damp, Logan skipped his boxers and pulled on another pair of soft, well-worn jean shorts. Long ago he’d decided to eschew the trappings of inherited wealth and go for comfort instead. As a detective, he had to wear suits, a tie, the whole shebang. He’d gotten used to it, and didn’t even think about it anymore.

But in his leisure time, he wore whatever felt best.

This new gig masquerading as a middle class construction worker fit him just fine. More often than not, a pair of shorts was all he needed. “I’m too close to pull back now, so save the lecture.” He dragged up the zipper with care.

Resigned, Reese got down to business. “Have you seen her brother?”

“No.” Not even a glimpse. “But he’s around, I’m sure of it.”

“If it turns out you’re right, the walls could start crumbling down. But if you’re wrong…”

He wasn’t wrong. No way. He trusted his instincts and his gut; both told him he was on to something here. He and Jack Carmin had gone through school together, college together, but while Logan had set his sights on becoming a detective, Jack had veered off into a different type of public work: politics. He’d died at the hands of a madman. Senseless murder—all for greed and corruption.

“He was my best friend, Reese.”

Morton Andrews would pay, even if it took him a lifetime.

“I know.” Tiredly, Reese said, “Keep me posted, okay? Don’t push too hard, and don’t do anything stupid or dangerous.”

That made Logan laugh, but not with any real humor. “Don’t act like you? Is that what you’re saying?” Known for championing the underdog, Reese resembled Jack in many ways. In the face of injustice, he often reacted before thinking, but usually, at least in Logan’s opinion, he was dead-on. Logan trusted him with his life, and that was saying something. He trusted only a select few.

Now with a smile in his tone, Reese said, “Exactly.”

“I’ll check in tomorrow.”

“Not tonight?”

With any luck, he’d be busy till late. “Let’s keep the calls to a minimum, just in case.”

Reese hesitated. “Forget the task force and your assignment—if you need backup, don’t trust anyone else, understand? Get hold of me, and only me.”

“That’s a given.” Jack’s murder had been all the incentive Logan needed to accept the position as head of a special task force. To clean up a lot of the rampant corruption in Warfield, Ohio, his lieutenant had given him carte blanche.

But because some of that corruption had infiltrated the force, Logan had immediately brought Reese on board.

“I’ve lined up a few unies if we need them. Kids I know we can count on.”

By “kids,” Reese meant young uniformed cops, still bright-eyed with the need to see justice served. “You didn’t tell them anything yet?”

“Nope. Just checked out their backgrounds, family histories and their records. If you find Rowdy, they can make the actual arrest to keep it clean.”

“Thanks.” To really make a difference, Logan needed people he could count on, and that meant Reese had to do a lot of setup.

But he also needed an eyewitness to a two-year-old murder.

And that meant he needed Pepper’s brother, Rowdy Yates.

Through tons of research and a little luck, he’d found Pepper. At first he hadn’t been certain it was her; Rowdy had done an amazing job of covering their tracks. But now that he’d seen her up close, talked with her, he was sure he had the right woman.

Through her, he’d eventually get Rowdy.

And with Rowdy, he’d get that scumbag club owner, Morton Andrews, the man he knew was responsible for many deaths, including Jack’s.

Hell, he wasn’t the only one who knew it. Plenty of people made the link. But Morton owned enough people, bought enough alibis that, for all intents and purposes, he remained untouchable.

With Rowdy’s eyewitness account, he’d finally be able to put Morton away.

With that end goal in mind, Logan said, “I gotta go. The lady is waiting.”

Dropping his cell phone into his pocket, along with his keys and a wallet holding false ID, a rubber and a few bills, Logan detoured into the kitchen.

Using his real first name made the undercover work easier. It was enough to remember that Pepper Yates was Sue Meeks without trying to carry his own alias. It was all too easy to fuck up when you tried to change too much. That’s why construction work was part of his undercover persona.

Sure, he and his brother Dash had inherited a shit ton of money from their family. But neither of them flaunted the money, and neither of them felt content being idle or, God forbid, sitting in boardrooms. They invested wisely, donated generously and got on with their lives.

As owner of a construction company, Dash could employ Logan when necessary, giving him the background he needed in case Rowdy got on to him and did any checking.

It was a stroke of luck that he’d found Pepper in a different county. Anyone who knew him might unwittingly blow his cover, but the different locale made a chance encounter with cops in the field less likely.

Logan grabbed his packaged steak, a potato and a six-pack of beer, minus one.

He locked the door behind him and stepped over to tap on Pepper’s door. As if she’d been waiting for him, it opened almost before he’d dropped his hand.

Standing before him, shifting her feet nervously, she said, “Hi.”

She looked adorably unsure of herself, her gaze avoiding his, her teeth nibbling on her bottom lip.

Again flushed.

“Hi yourself.” Logan took his time looking her over, not that she’d changed a thing. She still wore the ugly canvas sneakers, long skirt and baggy pullover top. Her hair remained dragged back in that hideous ponytail.

But he saw the movement of her chest as she drank in deep, nervous breaths, and the way her hands trembled a little.

Emotion, awareness and his dick all swelled. He felt ruthless, and he felt territorial. “You want to let me in, Sue?”

She continued to look at him, all over him.

Logan lowered his voice more and said with certainty, “I’m coming in.”

“Oh.” Closing her eyes in embarrassment, she stepped aside. “Yes, of course.”

He hadn’t planned to rush things. He’d intended to be smooth, patient. But the moment just felt right, so as he moved past her, he bent and put a firm kiss to her soft mouth. “Thanks.”

The brief contact proved addictive—sparking awareness, firing his blood.

Over a simple kiss.

He made it all the way to her kitchen before he realized she still stood at her open door, staring after him, frozen in shock. She watched him set down the beer, the steak and potato.

She looked ready to flee the apartment.

Pretending he didn’t understand the reason, Logan asked low, “Everything okay?”

She treated him to another intent stare, consuming him with her innocent gaze. “Yes.” Letting out a long breath, she closed the door, faltered a second, then stepped forward. “Yes, everything is fine.” Head down, mouth pinched, she bustled past him. “I already started the grill. Another minute or two and we can put on the steaks.”

Logan caught her arm, his fingers wrapping around her. She was slim, her bones delicate.

Why hadn’t he noticed that before?

“You picked up the place.” She’d closed the door on her bedroom and bathroom, so he didn’t know about those spaces, but the cardboard pizza box, empty cans and papers were gone. “I hope you didn’t tidy up on my account.”

“Oh, no, not at all.” Sidling out of his reach, she plumped a throw pillow at the end of a love seat, putting the entire piece of furniture between them as a barrier. “That stuff was leftover from last night.”

Her efforts to distance him only made him feel more predatory. Alarm filled her gaze as he approached. She jerked around, turning her back on him, but then just…stood there, waffling, uncertain.

A defense mechanism? How badly had her damned brother mistreated her?

Savage, protective instincts sharpened. She was so damn sweet, so shy.

Having her would be sweet, too. Not that it mattered; his reasons for being here with her now, for using her, had little enough to do with her growing appeal.

An appeal he hadn’t noticed before getting close to her.

Using the back of one finger, Logan stroked the side of her neck and was rewarded with her shiver. Her incredible softness stirred him more and roughened his voice. “You ate pizza all alone last night?” The image pained him.

“I… Of course.” She swayed back into him. “I am alone.”

Amazed by how quickly she melted, he settled both hands on her shoulders. Again he noted her slimness. Not skinny, but most definitely slight in the way of females.

Would it really be this easy? Did she not possess a single iota of self-preservation? She wore her heart on her sleeve, her need for affection painstakingly obvious.

He wanted to pull her closer, wrap his arms around her, but he didn’t want to scare her off.

Using his thumbs to rub the backs of her upper arms, he said, “You could have invited me over.”

“I…” She shook her head. “No. I couldn’t.”

Because her brother wouldn’t allow it? Bastard.

Logan leaned closer, his breath on her nape, his whisper near her ear. “Anytime, Sue. You have my number.” His lips just touched her lobe. “Or just knock at my door.”

Breathing hard, she shifted—then lurched out of his reach. “No, I’m sorry,” she said in a rush, “but I won’t ever do that.” She all but raced out to the patio. With her out of the room, Logan looked around.

Her furniture, ragtag and mismatched, had probably come with the apartment, same as his. As an acting manager for the four-unit building, did she get to live here rent-free? Where did she get money for food? For clothes? Lack of funds likely accounted for her secondhand clothing. She didn’t have a car—because she couldn’t afford one?

It disturbed Logan, how isolated and alone she was. He always empathized with those less fortunate; never in his life had he wanted for a single thing—except justice. But with this woman, it went beyond a sense of social responsibility to the needy.

It went beyond anything familiar.

Where the hell was her brother? Why did Rowdy leave her so unguarded?

From what he’d uncovered, he hadn’t considered Rowdy Yates a “bad” man, just a man of poor choices and, in the case of his employment with Morton Andrews, worse acquaintances. Now, knowing Pepper? Rowdy had to be the lowest type of villain. How else could you explain her circumstances?

Other than a work history that included everything from dishwasher to deliveryman, carpenter to bouncer, there’d been little on Rowdy, and even less on Pepper.

Logan knew her brother worked, he drifted, he teetered on the edge of trouble—and he dragged Pepper along for the ride.

Logan hadn’t been able to find anything on their educations, parents or other relatives.

But Rowdy had worked at Checkers—which was the wrong club at the wrong time. While employed there he’d gotten embroiled in corruption. His testimony was needed to bring down Andrews, but for two years now, he’d dodged involvement. The last anyone had heard from Rowdy was right before a reporter had his throat cut.

After that, nada.

Until now.

Now, Logan had Rowdy’s kid sister, and much as it went against the grain, he would use her to get what he wanted.

Justice.

Revenge.

Peace of mind.

Unwavering, Logan picked up his food, snagged two beers, and went out to the patio to join her.

* * *

PEPPER LAY IN HER BED, wide-awake, miserably hot, and dissatisfied.

The fan in her window stirred the humid air, pushing it around the room and over her mostly bare body.

A cold shower hadn’t helped, not after four long hours of Logan Stark’s personal brand of seduction.

God, she felt singed. The intimate way he’d looked at her, the suggestive way he talked.

Even the way he ate his steak somehow affected her to the point that she’d barely touched her own, when she’d been anticipating the dinner.

She had planned to ask Logan some personal questions, but he’d kept her on the defensive with small touches and warm smiles. It had taken all her wits to keep from falling under his spell.

But she wanted to. Badly.

Actually, she wanted to be under him.

Impossible.

Rolling to her back, she stared at the shadowed ceiling and wondered if he was asleep. After that spontaneous kiss he’d given her before walking into her apartment, she’d been on guard. When she’d finally gotten him to the door, ready to say goodbye, she’d stuck out her hand.

A handshake she could handle. It was civilized. Socially acceptable.

But he’d done her in even then, lifting her hand, pressing his firm mouth to her palm. Inundated with the sensations all over again, she curled her fingers and groaned.

When her phone beeped, she jumped, then quickly sat up. No one had her number—except Rowdy.

She turned on a light, pressed a button on the phone and put it to her ear. “Hey.”

“Did I wake you?”

“No.” They both kept strange hours, but even if they didn’t, Rowdy would always call when others least expected it. Because it was always a looming threat, she asked, “Is anything wrong?”

“You had company.”

She gulped. How did he find that out so quickly? “A neighbor.”

“A man.”

Since Rowdy actually owned the apartment building, buying it outright under yet another alias, she could understand his consternation. “I don’t know too much about him—”

“But you had him over anyway?”

She understood his incredulity. “It’s not like that. His name is Logan Stark and for some reason…” Well, she couldn’t just tell her brother that Logan hit on her. That’d not only infuriate him, it’d also make him as suspicious as she was. “He wanted to share dinner, that’s all.”

Cold silence.

“C’mon, Rowdy,” she cajoled. “I’m careful, you know that.”

“You’re playing with fire.”

Maybe. “It’s not a big deal. Dinner, that’s all.”

“Then tell me why.”

She shrugged to herself. “I wondered the same thing. It’s not like I’d be appealing to him.”

He cursed low. “I didn’t mean that.”

“You did,” she corrected. “But it’s okay. A low profile is what’s most important, right?”

“I don’t like it.”

“There’s not much you do like these days.” She sighed, feeling for her brother, worried about him, and so tired of all the subterfuge. “Please, believe me, Rowdy. I won’t take any risks.”

“Maybe not on purpose, but that was a risk you took last night, so I’m going to check into him.”

Hmm… “Maybe you could find out where he works.”

“Ask him,” Rowdy said. “We’ll see if what he says to you meshes with what I find.”

“All right.” If the opportunity presented itself, she could try a little prying.

“Give me a week or two to find out what I can about him. Until then, watch your ass.”

Of course she would. Not like anyone else was watching it. Well, except her brother—and she could do with a little less vigilance from him, especially now that Logan was in the picture. “Love you, Rowdy.”

His voice softened. “Love you, too, kid.” And then, right before he hung up, he admonished, “Behave.”

Pepper put the phone back on her nightstand. It would be so nice to visit with Rowdy, to spend an entire day with him. But he wouldn’t allow it.

She understood why, but that didn’t stop her from missing him, more and more each day.

It saddened her, but as she tried to get to sleep, it was Logan she thought of, not her brother.

And that disturbed her most of all.

* * *

ON THE THIRD FLOOR of his exclusive, all-service club, Morton Andrews held court. Idiots surrounded him, but they were his idiots, loyal to him, afraid of his influence, so he tolerated them.

He eyed the cop who’d just entered. No, he wouldn’t offer a seat. He’d show no courtesy at all.

Cops had to remember their place—as hired help. “Is it true that Rowdy Yates has turned up?”

Surprise showed, but then was quickly covered. “Where did you hear that?”

Interesting. So maybe there was some truth to it. “You forget my many tentacles? I have ears everywhere. You know that.”

A nod of acknowledgment. “Yes, I know that.”

Morton accepted he had few virtues, and patience definitely wasn’t one of them. “Well?”

“There’s nothing concrete on Rowdy.”

It irked him sometimes, that cool confidence, the near disdain. Others cowered around him. Others understood the threat. But not this one. “You’ll let me know when there is?”

“Of course.”

Truth, or false assurances? Didn’t matter. In his own way, and in his own time, Morton knew he’d get to the bottom of it. For now, it amused him to let the illusion of trust exist. “All right, then.” And just to be a prick, he said, “You can go now.”

Taking the dismissal with no show of insult, the cop turned and left.

Morton shook his head. To his way of thinking, the only good cop was dirty—or dead. He’d yet to decide the fate of this one. But soon…

* * *

FOR THREE DAYS, Logan kept his distance. It wasn’t easy, but he wanted Pepper to think about him, to anticipate seeing him. Anticipation could break down her barriers, and that’s what he needed.

After spending the day working for his brother Dash, he’d expended a lot of tension. Physical labor always did that for him. Sunshine, sweat, using his hands, working his shoulders and thighs…he enjoyed it.

Likely Dash did as well, which would explain why he’d not only bought the company, but worked alongside the laborers on a regular basis.

There’d been a lot of concrete work throughout the afternoon. Sweat flattened his hair to his head and kept his T-shirt glued to his back. Everywhere he stepped, his dusty boots left footprints. Too much sun made his face feel tight.

And still he loved it.

Dash had the right idea. Make his own way doing good, honest labor, and build a great reputation at the same time.

It didn’t hurt that the construction company gave Logan great cover. No one knew he and Dash were related, so no one paid him any attention. On the construction site, he was just one more grunt, there to help with the physical workload.

Just as he reached his door, Pepper’s opened.

Satisfaction burned in his gut.

He glanced up, saw her standing there uncertainly, and smiled. “Hey, Sue.” He continued to unlock his door, pushed it open. “What’s up?”

“I, ah…”

He glanced at her again, a brow raised.

“I haven’t seen you for a few days.”

“Been working.” He leaned in the door to drop a thermos and hard hat. “That’s how construction is. You don’t work for a month, then you’re nonstop busy for a while.”

“Construction?” She eased farther into the hallway.

Seeing this as a prime opportunity, Logan rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. “Yeah.” He gestured. “You want to come in? I need to shower and grab some dinner, but then we can visit.”

“Oh.” Shaking her head, she retreated a step. “No, I—”

Keeping his gaze locked on hers, he reached for her, caught her hand, and pulled her forward into the hall and then into his apartment. “I only need a few minutes. What’d you have planned for dinner? I’m starving.”

Not the most subtle hint, but maybe she’d be female enough to pick up on it and take pity on him.