Targeted Risk (R.I.S.C. #7) - Anna Blakely Page 0,21
knees.”
“Shh...just breathe with me. In...out...in...out. There ya go.”
After a few more deep breaths, Juliet sat up straight. “I feel better, now. Embarrassed, but better.”
“Nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart.” His hand rubbed up and down her back, soothing away the remaining tendrils of fear. “You’ve had a pretty fucked up night.”
Juliet burst out a surprising laugh. “That’s one way to put it.” Lifting her head, she allowed her eyes to meet his. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me, too.” He started to smile but then his mouth fell flat and he dropped his hand. “Shit. I didn’t even think to ask. Are you...I mean, is there...someone else?”
She smiled at the adorable way he’d stumbled over his words. With a playful nudge, she said, “I wouldn’t be alone in a hotel room with you if there were.”
“Good. I mean, I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes or anything.”
The relief crossing over his face was telling. He still wanted her. And, despite knowing she shouldn’t...
I still want him, too.
Jay reached toward her, tucking her long strands behind her ear. His lips parted, and Juliet innately knew whatever he was about to say would make her want to kiss him again.
“I’m tired,” she blurted a little too loudly.
He pressed his lips closed. With a ghost of a smile, he let his hand fall away and nodded. “I’m sure you are.”
Wearing an expression she couldn’t quite read, he stood and walked over to the other bed. Not wanting to sleep in the clothes she had on, Juliet got up and grabbed her suitcase.
From the corner of her eye, she could tell he was toeing off his shoes, and when he started to lift the hem of his shirt, she looked away and ducked into the bathroom.
Leaning back against the closed door, she closed her eyes and took several more, deep breaths. He’s just a man, for crying out loud. No different than any others she knew.
“Liar, liar panties on fire.”
“Jules?” Jay’s voice came through the door. “Did you say something?”
Shit. “Nope.”
Jumping away from the door, she set the suitcase on the closed toilet lid and began collecting her things. It was only then that Juliet realized she’d forgotten to grab her toiletry bag, as well.
Double shit.
With a quick glance to the sink, she saw tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner as well as a bar of soap wrapped in plastic. Deciding a second shower would buy her some time before having to face a shirtless Jay, she grabbed the complimentary items and started the water.
Several minutes—and a lot of hot water later—Juliet had actually managed to feel a bit more relaxed than when she’d first stepped in.
Freshly washed, dried, and dressed in her favorite tank and pajama bottom set, she turned the doorknob and walked out into the room. Rolling steam billowed around her, but it did nothing to block out the mouthwatering view before her.
Propped up in his bed, Jay glanced up from whatever he was texting on his phone. As expected, the man was shirtless...and looked good enough to eat.
“Feel better?” His deep voice rumbled low.
Juliet averted her eyes and went straight to the other bed. “I do, actually,” she spoke as she pulled the blanket and sheet down and crawled in.
“Good.”
Sliding beneath the covers, she closed her eyes, moaning in appreciation when her head hit the pillow. “God, this feels good.”
Letting out what sounded to her like a half-cough, half-choking sound, Jay caught her attention with a soft, “Goodnight, Jules.”
Juliet risked a glance in his direction, regretting the decision the second she did. “Night, Jay.”
If she wasn’t mistaken, the browns in his eyes had darkened some, the way they always did right before they had sex. But then something strange flashed behind them just before he reached for the bedside lamp.
The entire room became enveloped in a cold darkness. Closing her eyes, all Juliet could see was Jay’s handsome face...and that lickable chest.
She eventually fell asleep to the soft whispers of Jay’s even breaths. But later, amidst the plethora of wonderful, sinful dreams, another face appeared.
One hiding behind a black mask. One with the eyes of a killer.
****
Chapter 5
“Your guy’s name is Aaron Schreiber. Grew up in the not-so-good part of Los Angeles.”
“Record?” Mike kept his voice hushed. “And talk fast, D. I don’t know how much time I’ve got.”
Standing outside on their room’s balcony, he kept a close eye on the bathroom door as Derek gave him the rundown on the man who’d broken into Juliet’s home and nearly killed her.
“Schreiber