Her 24-Hour Protector(48)

“You’re only telling me this because you were attacked, and now you’re scared,” he said bluntly. “Otherwise you’d have come forward earlier.” Like when I kissed you, like when you put your hand on my knee in the dark car…

She slumped down into a chair, burying her hands into her face. “I was going to tell you before I was attacked, Lex. I had made a decision to come clean, about everything. I…I knew I had to pick a side.” She glanced up slowly, tears, mascara streaking her face. “And I did. I picked your side,” she said, her voice small.

His heart constricted sharply. He crouched down in front of her, tilted her face to his. “You picked the right side, Jenna,” he said softly. “You did the right thing.” She began to sob, and he gathered her into his arms. She felt so good, so right.

And she’d picked him.

Jenna had put herself in his hands, and no matter his conflict over her actions, Lex was determined to do right by her. To keep her safe. But what were the implications—for him, his case, his job? Could he risk involvement?

He closed his eyes. God, was it even remotely possible that she could be with him long-term, that he, the orphan son of a hooker-turned-croupier mother who’d been brutally murdered, could have some kind of future with this Las Vegas princess?

Would it be such a terrible mistake to even try?

Jenna slid her hand up the back of his neck and drew his mouth to hers. He felt her tongue against his lips, and his consciousness spiraled liked a wild, dizzying fairground ride, shades of red and darkness swirling behind his eyes as heat arrowed straight to his groin. He moved his mouth over her lips, parting them. They were wet, warm, salty with tears and the lingering notes of Scotch. She opened under him inviting, vulnerable. Lex’s heart began to pound as he teased the inner seam of her lips with his tongue. She moaned softly, sinking herself back into the cushions, drawing him on top of her. Her emerald evening gown slipped sideways off her breast and Lex’s breath clean stopped. He moved his mouth along the smooth column of her neck to the firm swell of her breast, and he teased her nipple, feeling it bead tight and hard under his tongue. It sent blood rushing between his legs, and he began to throb, hard, with exquisitely painful, urgent need.

Jenna pressed her body up into his, kissing him deeper, wrapping her arms around him, wanting him, enveloping him. Breathing hard, Lex pulled back. While he could.

While he had a shred of sanity left in his brain.

She looked up at him, her lips swollen from his kiss, eyes dazed.

“Jenna…this is…I mean…the case. I can’t—”

She sat up, pulling the fabric of her dress back over her chest. “I’m tired,” she said simply. “I…I’m not thinking things through. I’m sorry.”

Lex stared at her, his entire body, every damn molecule pounding a tattoo that said take her, take her now, she wants you, she’s yours…

But he couldn’t.

Not without removing himself from this investigation first. Not without thinking through the repercussions first, while he still could. Lex didn’t want to hurt Jenna. And he did not want to deny Candace Rothchild justice by having this case tossed out of court because of his actions.

And Lord knew, he didn’t want to mess up his own life. Again. He couldn’t afford to lose his career.

He swore to himself. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of. This was what he’d been running from when he’d tried to dump her outside her mansion in the pouring rain.

“Come,” he said, helping her up from the couch. “You take my bed, upstairs.”

“What about you?”

He cleared his throat. “I’m going to work some things out down here.”



Lex flipped off the bedroom light, hesitating at the door. She was asleep already, out almost the moment her head hit the pillow. And there she was, in her shimmering green dress. In his bed. Jenna Jayne Rothchild, the Vegas princess. His lips curved, his heart feeling a rushing expansive sensation. He couldn’t abandon her now. She was going to be in for a rough ride when he went after her father. How in the hell was all that going to work out? Yeah, bro, never mind thinking things through—you’re already well and truly sunk.

He closed the door with a soft snick, blew out a lungful of air and then went downstairs.

Snagging an ice-cold beer from the fridge, Lex went to sit out on his porch, the hot night air silky against his bare chest. He took a deep swallow from the bottle and exhaled slowly as alcohol crept through his body.

He put his head back, looked up at the sky—crystal clear and splattered with desert stars. A gentle warm wind rustled the leaves in his small garden. Lex felt alive, more alive than he had in years. He took another drink, and a small spark of excitement began to shimmer inside him. What if—after this all cleared up—they gave it their best shot? What if she really did want him? Long-term.