Daring In The City. Jo Leigh

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Daring In The City - Jo Leigh Mills & Boon Blaze

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she hadn’t noticed or it was a ploy to distract him, which...

      Goddamn it.

      Her breasts were high and looked firm. He only saw the tops plumping over her pale blue bra. Nothing else was showing. Still, he moved his gaze to safer ground.

      If there was such a thing.

      He hated to think he’d end up being an idiot because she was hot. Those big dark eyes weren’t even the most remarkable thing about her face. It was the odd combination of her roundish cheeks and delicate chin. Or maybe the contrast between her dark brows and warm, rosy skin...

      Whatever, she was gorgeous, and his opinion of Wes Holland went down several more notches. The guy was an idiot.

      “Tell me why the cops were here,” he said, holding up a hand when she started to speak. “In one sentence, and make it good if you want to stay.”

      She inhaled deeply, and he had to force himself to keep looking at her face. “Because the elevator was out of service and you can see how big my luggage is, I couldn’t carry both bags up the stairs at the same time by myself so I stuffed my duffel bag in the alcove by the elevator then I came up here only to find the note that told me Wes had run off with my money, and because of that it took me longer than I’d expected to go back for my duffel, and by that time there were cops downstairs because the bag was unattended, so I had to convince them that I wasn’t a terrorist even though the tag on the bag was in my aunt’s name, but then they looked inside and found nothing but my clothes so they didn’t arrest me, thank God. And that’s it. That’s why the cops were here.”

      It was a good thing she’d stopped to take a breath because her face had started turning pink from speed talking her way through that entire monologue. “All right,” he said, holding back a laugh. “You can stay. Two days. And everything goes with you.”

      “Really?”

      He nodded, grudgingly. At least he wouldn’t feel like a snake.

      “You haven’t told me your name,” she said.

      “Luca Paladino.”

      Hugging the pillow, she held out her hand, and when he took it, he was reminded quite viscerally of how petite she was. Five-one at the most?

      “You know, I’m tearing this whole place up. There’s going to be a lot of noise and I can’t guarantee you’ll have electricity.”

      “I’ll deal with it. Thanks.” She looked down and quietly muttered, “Even though the rental agreement was for five more days.”

      He took a step back into the room. “Why don’t you let me take a look at that agreement?”

      She hesitated, then handed him paper.

      The bastard had clearly downloaded a standard rental agreement from the internet and forged Luca’s signature. “Be aware that I’m staying downstairs, so keep the screaming to a minimum,” he said.

      Her shoulders drooped, but she kept her back upright, and her reddened eyes met his gaze straight on. She knew how to school her reactions. Interesting. So maybe she was involved in some kind of con. God, he hoped not. He wanted to believe she was exactly who she purported to be: a victim of a relationship gone bad.

      April studied him for several moments then said, “Thank you. You’re very kind.”

      “Just don’t make me the schmuck who bought a bunch of your bullshit, okay?”

      Quickly wiping one finger underneath her right eye, she shook her head. “I won’t. I know far too well what that feels like. But I do have one favor to ask you.”

      His stomach sank. “Don’t you mean another favor?”

      She blinked. “Yes,” she said, nodding. “Could I borrow a roll of toilet paper?”

      “Are you kidding?”

      She waved in the direction of the bathroom. “He left me four sheets. Generous, isn’t he? Bastard.”

      “That’s got to be a record low.” It occurred to him that she could’ve easily taken a roll from the downstairs bathroom. Instead she’d asked. “Yeah, sure. I’ll get it for you.”

      She tried to give him a smile, but it didn’t stick.

      On his way down the stairs he played devil’s advocate. It was quite possible the toilet paper situation had tipped the scales. Hell, two days was generous, considering he wanted to get a jump on the—

      Ah, shit.

      He’d almost forgotten about his date. With the very gorgeous and—he was quite sure of it—willing Jillian whom he’d run into at a gallery retrospective. Their date was in seven days. So yeah, April putting him behind schedule was inconvenient. Her being there wouldn’t stop him from working on the living room area, but he needed to have access to the upstairs bedroom. Two less days to get it in shape meant he’d have to hustle.

      After finding a roll of toilet paper in the old vanity cabinet in the bathroom he was going to tear out, he went back to the staircase.

      April appeared above him, dressed in a pair of jeans and a pink T-shirt. She was still hot.

      He tossed the roll up, and she caught it handily. “Look, I’ve got a pizza coming any second. And some beer in the fridge. You’re welcome to have some.”

      Even from this distance he could see she was tempted, but she hesitated. He supposed that was a good sign. Smart. She didn’t know him, either.

      When she didn’t respond, he shrugged. “Suit yourself. But it’s a large pepperoni, and the beer is cold.”

      He turned, leaving her to figure it out. It made no difference to him if she came downstairs. Then it occurred to him that he probably shouldn’t go back to his folks’ house tonight and leave her here on her own. But then where would he sleep?

      Oh, for God’s sake, the woman was already too much trouble.

       4

      EVEN AFTER LUCA had disappeared, April just stood there, not sure she’d be able to move. The thought of going downstairs was more than she could bear. Not the thought of eating with Luca. Just making her way down there.

      Instead, she returned to the Wes Abandonment Suite and stared at a spot on the floor. A pain in her shoulder knocked her out of her trance, which was a pity. For a while there, she’d had no thoughts, at least none she could remember. But somewhere in that void, she’d made a decision that surprised her.

      She emptied more of her duffel bag until she got to her makeup and facial cleanser. She’d packed a couple of washcloths, mostly because she didn’t trust Wes to pick up anything but the cheapest crap.

      If only she’d had the foresight to realize that was the least of her concerns.

      She really had to let it go, for now at least. She took her things to the bathroom, which was so outdated it looked like something out of a 1950s

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