Bodyguard: Outrageous / Riley

He ignored her embarrassment. “So, Emily. Where exactly are you from?”

Her gaze was on his hands as he shoved his shirttails into his pants. “The Crystal Lakes area,” she said. “And you?”

He gave a low, soft whistle. “The Crystal Lakes? Damn. No kidding?”

Annoyed, she finally forced her attention to his face. “I certainly wouldn’t lie about it.”

He took her arm and led her out of the storeroom. He had stuffed his dance props into the leather satchel he carried in his other hand. “I’ll bet you live in a big old place with plenty of rooms, don’t you?”

Emily eyed him with a wary frown. She wasn’t certain how much she should tell him about herself. “I have enough space, I suppose.”

He asked abruptly, “How did you get here?”

“Actually, I took the bus. I didn’t think parking my car here would be such a good idea.”

“No doubt. What do you drive, anyway? A Rolls?”

“Of course not.”

“So?” He pulled her out the door and into the brisk night. “What do you tool around in?”

“Tool around? I drive a Saab.”

“Ah.”

“What does that mean? Ah?” He was moving her along again, treating her like a dog on a leash. And with his long-legged stride, it was all she could do to keep up. He stopped near a back alley, and Emily realized they were at the rear of the bar. “Why didn’t we just go out the back door instead of walking all the way around?”

“‘Ah’ means your choice of transportation shouldn’t surprise me. And we came this way so I could spare you from being harassed. Believe me, the men working in the back would have a field day with an innocent like you.”

Don’t ask. Don’t ask. “What makes you believe I’m an innocent?”

Judd opened the door to a rusty, disreputable pickup truck and motioned for her to get inside. She hesitated, suddenly not certain she should trust him.

But he only stood there, watching her with that intense, probing green gaze. Finally, Emily grabbed the door frame to hoist herself inside.

Judd shook his head. “And you ask how I know you’re an innocent?”

Before Emily could reply, he slammed the door and walked around to get in behind the wheel. “Buckle up.”

She watched his profile as he steered the truck out of the alley and onto the main road. The lights from well-spaced street lamps flashed across his features. Trying to avoid staring at him, she looked around the truck and she saw a strip of delicate black lace draped over the rearview mirror.

Judd noticed her fascination with the sheer lace and grinned. “A memento of my youth.”

Trying for disinterest, Emily muttered, “Really.”

“I was sixteen, she was eighteen.”

Sixteen. The same age as her brother—and obviously into as much mischief as John.

Judd ran his fingers down the lace as if in fond memory. “We were in such a hurry, we ripped her panties getting them off.” He flashed her a grin. “Black lace still makes me crazy.”

Emily went perfectly quiet, then tightly crossed her legs. There’s no way he can know what your panties look like, Emily, she told herself. But still, she made an effort to bring the conversation back to her purpose. She had to find a way to help John.

Reminded of the reason she was with Judd in the first place, Emily turned to him. Taking a deep breath, she said, “I need to find out who’s selling semiautomatic weapons to kids. I…I know a boy who had one blow up in his face. He was badly injured. Luckily, no one else was around.”

The truck swerved, and Judd shot her a look that could have cut ice. “Blew up?”

His tone was harsh, and Emily couldn’t help huddling closer against her door. “Yes. He very nearly lost an eye.”

Judd muttered a curse, but when he glanced at her again, his expression was carefully controlled. “Did you go to the police?”

“I can’t.” She tightened her lips, feeling frustrated all over again. “The boy’s parents won’t allow him to be implicated. They refuse to realize just how serious this situation is. They have money, so they took him out of the country to be treated. They won’t return until they’re certain he’s safe.”

“Yeah. A lot of parents believe bad things will go away if you ignore them. Unfortunately, that’s not true. But Emily, you have to know, there’s nothing you can do to stop the crime on these streets. The drugs, the gangs and the selling of illegal arms, it’ll go on forever.”

“I refuse to believe that!” She turned in her seat, taking her frustration out on him. “I have to do something. Maybe I can figure out a way to stop this guy who sold that gun. If everyone would get involved—”

Judd laughed, cutting her off. “Like the folks who whisked their baby boy out of the country? How old was this kid, anyway? Old enough to know better, I’ll bet.” He shook his head, giving her a look that blatantly called her a fool. “Don’t waste your time. Go back to your rich neighborhood, your fancy car and your fancier friends. Let the cops take care of things.”

She was so angry, she nearly cried. It had always been that way. She never shed a tear over pain or hurt feelings, but let her get really mad, and she bawled like an infant. His attitude toward her brother infuriated her.

Judd stopped at a traffic light, and she jerked her door open, trying to step out. His long hard fingers immediately wrapped around her upper arm, preventing her from leaving.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Let me go.” She was proud of her feral tone. “Did you hear me? Get your hands off me.” She struggled, pulling against his hold.

“Dammit! Get back in this truck!”

The light had changed and the driver of the car behind them blasted his horn. “I’ve changed my mind, Mr. Sanders,” she told him. “I no longer require your help. I’ll find someone else, someone who won’t choose to ridicule me every other second.”

He peered at her closely, then sighed. “Aw, hell. Don’t tell me you’re going to cry.”

“No, I am not going to cry!” But she could feel the tears stinging her eyes, which angered her all the more. How could she have been so wrong about him—and he so wrong about her? She didn’t have fancy friends; she didn’t have any friends. Most of the time, she didn’t have anybody—except her brother. She loved him dearly, and John trusted her. When the rest of her family had turned their backs on her, her brother had been there for her, making her laugh, giving her the support she needed to get through it all.

She couldn’t let him down now, even if he didn’t realize he needed her help. He was the only loving family she could claim, the only one who still cared about her, despite her numerous faults. And she knew, regardless of the gun incident, John was a good person.

Several cars were blaring their horns now, and Judd yanked her back inside, retaining his hold as he moved out of the stream of traffic and over to the curb. He didn’t release her. “Look, I’m sorry. Don’t go and get weepy on me, okay?”

“You, Mr. Sanders, are an obnoxious ass!” Emily jerked against him, but he held firm. “I always cry when I’m angry.”

“Well…don’t be angry then.”

Unbelievable. The man had been derisive, insulting and arrogant from the moment she’d met him, but now his tone had changed to a soft, gentle rebuke. He had a problem with female tears? She almost considered giving in to a real tantrum just to make him suffer, but that had never been her way. The last thing she wanted from Judd was pity.

“Ignore me,” she muttered, feeling like a fool. “It’s been a trying week. But I am determined to see this thing through. I’ll find the man who sold that gun. I have a plan, a very solid plan. I could certainly use your help, but if you’re only going to be nasty, I believe I’d rather just find someone else.”

JUDD WAS AMAZED by her speech. Then his eyes narrowed. No way in hell was he going to let her run loose. She was a menace. She was a pain.