In Hot Pursuit (7 page)

Still, Lexi wanted to pull him back to her bedroom and beg for a replay of last night—this time with
lights on so she could watch him touch her body in glorious, living color.

“No,” she managed finally. “Should you?”

“I keep thinking I've seen you somewhere before.”

“I don't think so.” She could feel his eyes on her as she bent to pick up Muffin. No doubt her dog felt very neglected after Lexi snubbed her last night in favor of Josh. She could only hope Muffin's feminine eye would take one look at the detective and understand Lexi's decision.

Scooping up the dog, Lexi walked toward the door, needing to bid goodbye to Josh before she did something stupid, like invite him to watch
The View
or help her with the Sunday crossword. Yeah, he'd be pretty wowed by last night's bad girl then.

“Guess that's my cue to head out.” Josh followed her through the living room to the front door. “But I can't regret not sneaking out like a thief in the night, Lexi. I had a really good time.”

Blush.

Double blush.

Of course he had a great time. She'd demanded they play bondage games in the dark. She had a pretty good idea what men thought about women who acted like that on the first date.

“Um. Me, too.” Social awkwardness didn't scale any greater heights, but Lexi refused to cringe. She opted to open the door and wave Muffin's paw at him. “'Bye, Josh.”

He didn't move. Not even an eyelash. He watched her with light gray eyes frozen in place.

“Holy hell, I know exactly who you are.”

Great, he already had her pegged for a closet houseplant? He took a step back, a horrified look on his face.

“And it's that bad?” She'd go to the mat that he'd had a good time last night. How disappointed could he be in who she was?

“I knew I remembered you from somewhere. Seeing you holding the dog just made it all come crashing back to me. You're Amanda Matthews's best friend.” He slapped his forehead with enough force to jar the diamond stud in his ear. “You might as damn well be Duke's sister-in-law, for that matter.”

“You know Amanda?” Lexi set down her dog, a sinking feeling telling her Josh had just somehow penetrated her inner circle of friends.

All three of her dogs milled about their mistress, sensing trouble.

“I'm Duke's partner. You probably don't remember seeing me the day I came into Amanda's shop to investigate a drug smuggling case, but you and I passed each other in the doorway once.”

No. She shook her head, willing away the connection with the man who she needed to remain anonymous. “Ohmigod.
You're
Columbo?”

Normally, Lexi would have been flattered that Josh remembered her months later. She did sort of remember seeing a dangerous-looking guy with Duke once, before they'd been formally introduced.

But Lexi could hardly savor the compliment of Josh remembering her. Not when their relationship had just shifted from a one-night stand to something
about as far from impersonal as two people could possibly get. Their best friends were getting married, for crying out loud. With the way her luck was running, they'd likely be stuck pulling best man and maid of honor duties together.

So much for anonymous sex. She and Josh might as well still be handcuffed together, because they no longer stood a chance in hell of walking away from last night.

 

H
E WAS SO DEAD
.

A few hours after he'd left Lexi's, Josh pumped quarters into a newspaper vending machine on the corner of Sixth Avenue and West Twentieth Street. Damn, but he'd like to spend his last weeks among the living. When Duke returned from his motorcycle trip, he was going to pound Josh for sleeping with Amanda's best friend.

Ever since Duke had fallen for Amanda, he seemed to have forgotten one-night stands were part of dating. Duke had turned as stand-up damn honorable as his John Wayne namesake, and he would probably fail to see the fun in Josh handcuffing Amanda's best friend.

He slid a copy of the
Daily News
from the box and stuffed it under his arm as he trekked toward the Tenth Precinct.

Lexi hadn't wasted any time giving him the boot after they'd figured out their unwanted connection. She'd been polite enough about it, but Josh knew she was stressed by the way she clutched her poor shih tzu to her chest as she concocted lame excuses about not being able to see him again.

What made her so adamant about not getting personal with him? He weighed the situation as he wove around a few cop cars outside the station, exchanging greetings with a handful of beat cops headed out for their day on the streets.

He'd never minded when women from his gym had come on to him for a one-night stand, but it bugged him to think that's all Lexi wanted from him.

Not that
he
necessarily wanted anything more. Lexi was a limelight girl and he was an undercover kind of guy. Josh had the feeling she would be a walking explosion to his well-ordered world.

And what made it worse was that she was tight with Amanda and Duke. Any cop worth his salt would have figured out who Lexi was during the two hours he'd spent locked in a jail cell last night. Why hadn't he seen it? He'd known Amanda's best friend was some sort of fashion journalist who spent half her time abroad covering runway shows.

But he'd been so caught up thinking about Lexi as his personal stalker that he'd missed the bigger picture. Too busy indulging personal fantasies to see what was right in front of his face.

Duke was such an old-fashioned guy that he'd probably pull out some pithy wisdom about why Josh shouldn't expect to get his milk for free. And even if Duke managed to get past it, if Lexi ever said anything about the encounter that upset Amanda, Josh would not only be dead, but mutilated first. Duke allowed nothing, but nothing, to upset his princess.

Shit.

Josh tugged open the precinct door and glowered
his way down the hall. His phone was ringing when he sat down at his desk. Instinct told him to ignore it. Professional training wouldn't allow it.

He tossed the newspaper on the desk and sank into his squeaky office chair.

“Winger.” He stared up at his framed photo of Rocky Marciano and prayed for some focus.

“I'm in Seaside Heights, New Jersey,” the familiar voice of his partner shouted over a crashing surf on the other end. “Ever been down south this far?”

Duke. Just the person Josh didn't want to hear from twice in one morning. He palmed his forehead and squeezed to ease the tension in his temples.

“I've seen enough of Jersey to last me a lifetime.” Josh reached for the dumbbell on top of his file cabinet and launched into mindless curls as he talked.

“Not like this, you haven't.” Duke covered the mouthpiece and whispered something to his companion, then laughed. No doubt, he and Amanda were having a great time. “I've only got a few minutes, but I wanted to ask a favor.”

“Shoot.” Maybe Josh could offset his misdeeds with Lexi by lending Duke a hand.

“I was too distracted yesterday when I was tuning up the bike for the trip to really concentrate on what Amanda was saying about her friend getting blasted in her own magazine. But it turns out this friend—Lexi Mansfield—was slammed in print by Simone Bertrand.”

Josh set down the dumbbell. “Bertrand is a name on the list of potential smugglers located outside the Garment District.”

“Bertrand's also two cards short a deck and strikes me as way too flighty to be a suspect. Given that she's on the list and blasting negative press on Amanda's buddy, however, maybe you could check her out this week and touch base with Lexi?”

“Touch base with Lexi Mansfield.” Last time Josh had touched Lexi, she'd felt very fine. Duke was definitely going to kill him. “No problem.”

“Excellent—” Duke rattled off Lexi's address and phone number for Josh to copy down—not that Josh needed it.

“Lexi means a lot to Amanda. I want to make damn sure nothing happens to her. Besides, maybe you can at least cross this Bertrand woman off our list.”

“I'll follow up today.” Even if it meant Lexi would toss him out on his ear, he would at least check on her after he talked to her detractor. He had as much reason as Duke to want to protect Lexi.

Maybe a part of him was glad to have an excuse to see her again—even though it would mean trouble for them both.

“Knew I could count on you. I'm outta here.” Duke slammed down the receiver, leaving Josh to wade through the smuggling case on his own.

They'd been working with a special task force for months, and had already nailed one guy and a few of his cohorts for hiding drugs in crates of imported fabric, but the flow of contraband to the Garment District hadn't stopped.

Somehow, drugs were still entering the city under
Josh's watch, and he damn well was going to figure out how. If that meant he'd have to cross Lexi Mansfield's line in the sand, then so be it.

Like it or not, things were about to get personal.

S
HE WAS IN
over her head.

Lexi clicked her way around her apartment in outrageously high heels, hurrying to get dressed and trying not to think about how she'd made a big mistake by sleeping with Josh the night before. Sure, he'd been everything a woman could want between the sheets—or among the velvet pillows, in this case—but he was proving to be pretty damn dangerous to her mental well-being outside the bedroom.

She couldn't stop thinking about him. About his big hands threading through her hair. About the way he'd followed her rules of anonymous sex last night, even though he gladly would have made love with the lights on and their gazes connected.

She slid a tawny-colored evening dress out of her closet, not giving a fig that it was only mid-day. She lived by her own rules, damn it.

Yanking the zipper up her back, she went over the night in her mind, wondering how she could have handled things differently. She might have stood a fighting chance of putting sexy Detective Winger out of her mind if he'd at least been the total stranger she'd first assumed. But she was guaranteed to see him again if he was Duke's partner.

How could she ever look him in the eye in a social setting after everything they'd shared last night?

Her body still quivered just thinking about it. Her legs still ached from wrapping around him so tightly. Her lips were full and swollen from his kisses. All this, and the man had left five hours ago.

She was definitely in over her head.

Maybe that's why she felt compelled to don her highest heels, drape herself in Armani, and scout out Simone Bertrand. Lexi was spoiling for a confrontation, a chance to take control of her life again.

She'd spent the past ten years telling herself she didn't need anyone's approval. This afternoon, she'd remind Simone of that fact and recover her professional balance. As for her private life and her night with Josh…she couldn't imagine recovering her balance there anytime soon.

Thankfully, she didn't have to see him again for a couple of weeks. She and Josh would simply stay out of one another's way until Duke and Amanda returned to New York. And even then, who was to say they'd cross paths in the future?

Lexi checked her wallet to be sure she had enough cash for cab fare, then blew kisses at her babies on the way out the door. Muffin and Snowball barked their goodbyes, but Harry—the terrier—contented himself with a more dignified canine nod.

Josh had wanted a dignified goodbye,
a voice whispered in the back of her mind as she took the elevator to the first floor and paused to check her mailbox.

Why did the man have to sneak continually into her thoughts?
Broadcast
himself across her thoughts,
was more like it. Josh couldn't have made more of a mental impression if he'd announced his presence with a blasted megaphone.

As she spied the handwriting on the lone small envelope in her box, the swirl of her thoughts ceased. Fear niggled the back of her neck, caused her stomach to churn. She didn't need to open the letter to know it would contain another anonymous note, another threat.

Lexi grabbed it out of her box and stuffed it in her purse, too rattled to read it just yet. She could open it in the cab during the considerable drive to Simone's house in Long Island. Then she could panic in private.

After hailing a taxi, Lexi slid into the seat and gave the driver Simone's address. But even after she read the short note—two lines threatening her babies if she didn't quit “running her mouth” in her weekly column—Lexi didn't truly panic.

All she kept thinking was that Josh would be able to kick her note writer's butt from the Hudson to the East River if the guy ever tried anything. That line of thinking
did
make her panic.

Because if there was one thing Lexi had learned in life so far, it was that she had to fight her own battles.

And no sexy interlude with a dangerous cop was going to change that fact.

 

J
OSH PRESSED
the redial button on his cell phone to try calling Lexi one more time before he rang Simone Bertrand's doorbell. He stood on the brick walkway outside the behemoth mansion in a ritzy section of
Long Island, willing Lexi to pick up her phone this time.

No such luck. The woman didn't even know his phone number, so it's not like she could be ducking her caller I.D. She was genuinely out for the day.

He hated it that he didn't have the slightest notion where she might be. She'd been ever-present in his mind all damn day, yet evidently she wasn't giving him a second blasted thought.

Didn't she remember the heightened sensuality of last night's utter darkness? The complete awareness they'd had of one another? Josh had been with enough women to know nights like that weren't the norm. Why wasn't Lexi walking around her apartment with her pack of dogs at her heels, slowly replaying every nuance of the previous night in her mind?

Besides, he was supposed to check on her, make sure she was safe. How could he do that if she never answered her phone?

Once her answering machine clicked on, Josh folded up his phone and stuffed it in his pocket. He rang the bell at the Bertrand woman's palatial colonial home and waited.

He might not be able to get his update on Lexi, but at least he'd take care of scratching the Long Island designer off his list of smuggling suspects.

Five minutes later he found himself waiting in a prissy sitting room, surrounded by pink silk armchairs and an army of silver animal statuettes. Idly, he ran his finger over two whales and a coiled snake, a
pointer dog ready to hunt and an elephant standing on its hind legs.

Josh peered at his reflection in the elephant's back and straightened the lapels of his jacket. Not only did he look more like a thug than a police officer, but also he was out of his depth here.

Duke might know how to talk to these upper crust folks, but Josh didn't have a clue. Give him a few street crooks to tangle with and he could hold his own. Give him a computer and he could tap his way down a paper trail of clues faster than Duke could polish off a burger. But put him in a situation where he had to talk to the owner of enough silver animals to provide flatware for all of Brooklyn and Josh didn't have a clue.

“Detective?” A throaty feminine voice assailed his ears, made him stand up straighter.

Josh turned to find an overblown blonde with a face perfectly sculpted to match a body only a plastic surgeon could have created. The woman had more lift than a hydraulic jack—on the front end, on the back end, around eyebrows that seemed arched in permanent surprise.

“Josh Winger.” He nodded. “Ms. Bertrand?”

She didn't bother to confirm or deny it. A wicked grin split her full lips. “If only I had known my local police station was harboring such gorgeous men as you, Detective, I wouldn't have wasted all those nights salivating over the
Law and Order
guys.”

“Nice to meet you.” He stuck out his hand, unsure how to respond as she squeezed his palm and didn't let go.

“The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.” She batted her eyelashes. “I noticed you admiring my statues. I have a collection of much more
interesting
pieces upstairs if you'd like to come see them.”

Sure. Right after he looked at her etchings.

“Actually, Ms. Bertrand—”

“Call me Simone.” She squeezed his arm as if to impress the wish upon him.

“Actually, Simone, I was hoping you could talk to me about how your design firm handles its imports.”

The flirtatious light in her eyes dimmed a bit. “Imports?”

“Fabrics or any other material you order from abroad.”

She assumed a theatrical pout. Josh noticed her lower lip seemed to have the same buoyant lift as the rest of her.

“If I indulge you now, Detective, will you indulge me later?”

Josh realized he wasn't even a little tempted. Not that he would have hit the sheets with a potential suspect in a million years. But usually the purely male side of his brain felt the pull of such an offer.

Not today, when Lexi Mansfield's lithe little body clung to his memories with tenacious blue fingernails.

“Sorry, Ms. Bertrand.” He plucked the woman's fingers off his jacket. “I'm afraid I can't return the favor.”

The snappy
click
of high heels across the marble corridor floor alerted him to a new arrival. A feminine new arrival.

He'd scarcely had time to turn around before Lexi's voice echoed through the large room.

“Josh?”

The look of betrayal on Lexi's face couldn't have been any more apparent. A beleaguered butler stood at her side as she stopped short in the entryway.

“Ms. Alexandra Mansfield is here, Ms. Bertrand,” the butler announced with a mixture of stiff formality and impatience.

“It's Lexi,” she snapped, obviously recovering from her moment of undisguised emotion.

Had Josh really seen a flash of jealousy, or was it wishful thinking on his part?

“Not according to your mother, miss,” the butler returned, bowing in deferential response to Lexi's mild snarl.

“Honestly, your staff is as ill-mannered as you, Simone. Jeeves should have told me you were busy.” Lexi adjusted the shoulder strap of her purse and tossed her long, dark hair over her shoulder.

She looked phenomenal. Her dress clung to her curves without cinching them, the fabric molding around her body like a lover's hand.

“It's James, Ms. Mansfield,” the butler called from some distance down the hallway.

Josh hid a laugh, and thought he noticed a smile playing about Lexi's lips, too.

“Yes, I am very busy,” Simone responded to Lexi's earlier comment. “You'll have to come back later.”

All traces of Lexi's smile disappeared. “You can count on it, Simone. I'll keep Jeeves entertained until
you're finished with your—” Lexi's eyes skated over Josh “—business.”

Josh became acutely aware that Simone still seemed attached to his arm despite his earlier efforts to free himself. Lexi sure as hell hadn't missed his incriminating position.

Still, she pivoted on her skyscraper heels with the precision of a drill sergeant. Josh couldn't take his eyes off her, as a loose-limbed walk carried her and all that in-your-face attitude out of view.

He gladly would have chased after her if he didn't have to interrogate the vine clinging to his arm.

But at least he could cross one task off his list today. He'd checked on Lexi, as Duke had requested.

And from what he could see, she was fantastic.

Any way he looked at it, Lexi Mansfield was one hell of a woman.

 

J
OSH
W
INGER
was a first-class bastard.

Lexi repeated the sentiment in every language she knew. Thanks to Lexi's frequent trips around the world for her magazine, the exercise took her all the way from Simone's hideous pink parlor to her free-form swimming pool and fussy gardens in the backyard.

Unfortunately, it didn't ease the sting of seeing the man she was struggling to forget, in the clutches of her socially mortal enemy. How did Josh know Simone?

Worse yet, why was Lexi sticking around to find out?

Even as she asked herself the question, Lexi knew
the answer. She liked Josh. And in spite of her best efforts not to complicate her life with relationships that could only hurt her, Lexi found herself wanting to do just that.

She took a seat in a cast-iron garden chair next to a small table, determined to talk to Simone sometime today. She just hoped it wasn't tomorrow morning before the woman finished her business.

The thought make Lexi's stomach churn.

But maybe it was just as well she'd discovered Josh had other women in his life. Maybe this would be the immunization shot she needed to resist him.

She released a long-suffering sigh, not realizing she wasn't alone until she heard the slam of a silver tray on the table beside her.

“Rough day, miss?” James Preston, the Bertrand's longtime butler, asked politely.

Lexi glared at him for good measure, but she'd always secretly liked the uptight gentleman her father had once hired as her elocution tutor when she was in high school.

She'd grown up two blocks from here, a social misfit with her academic parents. The Mansfields had been well-off by most of the world's standards, but peasants by this neighborhood's standards.

Simone had thrived on teasing Lexi since their shared days at a posh boarding school in the city, but she'd gone too far with her letter to Lexi's editor.

“Gawd-awful,” Lexi responded in her best New Jersey accent, just to torment him. “I see Her Majesty is holding court today?”

James sat down beside her and poured them both
a cup of tea from his silver tray. He might be the butler, but he was the Bertrand household's only claim to refinement, and he ruled the roost in a way Simone never could.

“The gentleman is a New York police detective,” James confided. “I hope Simone hasn't gotten herself into any trouble.”

“Nothing she can't handle with her ten-thousand-dollar body, I'm sure.”

James seemed to battle a grin as he passed her a cup of tea with a half lemon. “I'll admit she loves to make trouble, but this marks our first visit from the authorities.”

“I don't suppose they can arrest her for disparaging my character in a public forum, can they?” Lexi sipped her tea, soothed by both the companionship and the drink.

“Her letter was disgraceful. I'd like to go on record as having recommended against that course of action.”

“Thank you. It did seem a bit over the top, even for Simone.”

James looked as if he would comment further, but after a fierce frown, he suddenly changed the topic.

“Is there any chance you can wrangle me an invitation to the Dance for Children ball next month?”