NYC Angels Flirting with Danger - By Tina Beckett Page 0,4

sure what to do with her. The guest bedroom hadn’t been used in ages and he didn’t think the bed even had a sheet on under the tan striped spread.

He gazed down at her, something inside him softening as memories from their childhood washed over him. The three of them bobbing in the pool in Jason’s parents’ backyard, tossing a young Chloe high into the air and hearing her happy scream as she hit the water and sank—then spluttered back to the surface ready for more.

How embarrassed he’d been when his friend’s folks had to come to the police station to pick him up when, at eighteen years of age and fed up with life, he’d careened around a dangerous curve on his motorcycle, intent on putting an end to his pain, only to have the damn bike slide out from under him on the unpaved road before he’d hit full speed. When he’d opened his eyes—still very much alive—all he’d been able to think of was that his parents had been right about him: he screwed up everything.

Chloe’s parents had dragged him home with them that night. He could still see the wide-eyed stare Chloe had given him when he’d walked through the front door, road rash burning up one of his cheeks and the side of his right arm. The way she’d covered her mouth with both hands in horror.

That look had convinced him that checking out really would hurt someone—even if his parents had sniffed in disgust and simply sent his chopper off to the nearest repair shop without a word. They’d tended to show their displeasure in an entirely different way—a locked door was a powerful weapon.

Yes, he and Chloe Jenkins had been through a lot together.

But never in his wildest dreams had he pictured her in his bed. Well, maybe he had. But he’d damned himself from here to eternity for wanting to peel off her wedding dress and have her innocence all to himself.

Shaking off the thought, he started to pull one corner of the bedspread around her, but her coat was still wet. He really didn’t want her to sleep in it—especially as she’d begun shaking the second she’d entered the apartment, despite the fact that late spring in New York tended toward warm and humid. Her continued shivering was the only reason he’d handed her the glass of whiskey in the first place.

He couldn’t do anything about her damp hair—the loose strands a charming melding of blond and red—but he could slip her coat off and at least let her sleep in dry clothes.

His fingers went to the knot at her waist, and he frowned at how tightly she’d cinched the thing. If he’d had any doubts about leaving her in it, that quashed them. He worked at the tie until one loop loosened then slid free. Taking a deep breath, he parted the edges of the coat. The air whistled right back out of his lungs at the sight that met his tired eyes.

Holy hell.

A black negligee—opaque lace on top with a floaty skirt made of some kind of see-through fabric—was all she had on … well, other than the tiniest pair of panties known to mankind. Panties that were clearly visible. Clearly sheer.

He swallowed hard, torn between the desire to devour her with his eyes and wrap the coat tightly back around her. His body was having a tough time knowing which of his mixed signals to obey, although he might as well finish what he’d started and take the coat the rest of the way off, so she could at least sleep in comfort.

Unlike him, who’d probably have this image seared onto the backs of his eyelids for the rest of his life.

He slid the coat off her, turning her body to the side as he pulled it out from under her. What in God’s name had Chloe been thinking, walking around downtown New York like this?

She was the cautious one. The one who’d balked at riding on the back of his motorcycle, even after he’d tamed some of his wilder urges.

And yet here she was. In his apartment, like a sexy flasher from one of those secretary fantasies. She sure as hell hadn’t come here to seduce him with the get-up.

Then who?

He remembered the smeared mascara. The haunted look in her eyes.

It suddenly became clear in a rush. Jason’s random comments about his brother-in-law took on new meaning. How he’d said Chloe never complained but Jason was convinced