Body Heat (Simply 4)

“Where’s Harry?” the woman asked.

Jake didn’t think she’d like his answer, so he dug into his pocket and flashed his badge instead—a move that stopped both people cold and had them exchanging wary glances.

Jake reached behind the desk for the telephone and pulled it onto the high counter. “Call 911. Give the police the address and tell them it’s the penthouse,” Jake called over his shoulder as he ran for the elevator.

During the silent ride up to the apartment, Jake’s life passed in front of his eyes. It was a cliché he’d heard other cops describe, but it was real. And everything he saw, everything he wanted now and in the future, included Brianne—if Ramirez hadn’t hurt or killed her already, he thought fearfully.

Moving on autopilot, he removed his sneakers in order to maintain the element of surprise. He positioned himself flat against the side of the enclosed area, a place that he hoped hid him from immediate view. At last, the elevator doors slid open. A quick glance told him Brianne and Ramirez weren’t in the open entryway.

Gun in hand, he crept silently into the apartment. He knew better than to call out, but damn he wished he knew where to check first. Though he’d left Brianne in the kitchen, it seemed unlikely Ramirez would keep her in the open, unlocked room. Then again, he’d have to move both Brianne and her chair, something Jake knew Brianne wouldn’t allow. Not without a kicking, screaming fight.

He started toward the kitchen, just as Norton ran into the room, doing his infamous run-and-skid routine. The dog normally saved the bit for Brianne. Norton being happy to see Jake when Brianne was around was unusual, and the knot in Jake’s stomach tightened.

He knelt down beside the excited dog. “Come on, boy. Where is she?” he whispered.

Norton nudged Jake’s leg and started running. Jake mentally took back any bad thing he’d ever said or thought about the dog. In Jake’s book, loyalty to Brianne counted for everything. The dog led him to the kitchen. As Jake got closer, he heard the sounds of a scuffle.

No matter how much he wanted to storm into the room, he had to know what was going on first. Jake paused alongside the wall to the left of the entry and looked around the corner and into the room where he’d left Brianne. He nearly lost control at what he saw.

Ramirez loomed over Brianne. Her blouse was torn, and Ramirez rested his hand, which held a gun, on her shoulder, while his free hand hovered over her breast. Fury and a possessiveness unlike any he’d ever known ripped through Jake, but the other man’s gun kept him silent. He knew he didn’t have a clear shot at Ramirez as long as the thug stood in front of Brianne.

Taking a gamble, Jake walked into plain view and leveled his gun at the other man. “Let her go, Louis.”

Ramirez rose to his full height and turned, but kept his weapon on Brianne’s shoulder, aimed at her head. “Welcome home, Detective.”

Jake’s aim didn’t falter, either. “Drop the gun.”

“As if you’re in any position to be giving orders.” A smirk pasted on his face, Louis cocked his weapon.

The noise echoed loudly in the room and even louder in Jake’s head. At the offending sound, the blood drained out of Brianne’s face. Her green eyes were wide, yet, at a glance, he saw the hidden strength he’d always known she possessed.

Hang in there. He tried to communicate silent support and a promise. He’d gotten her into this. He’d get her out. His heart rose in his chest, making his throat as raw as his emotions. He couldn’t lose her.

And he wouldn’t, Jake thought, immediately shifting his stare back to Ramirez.

“This is between us. Leave her out of it.”

“He sent me flowers, remember, Jake? I think that makes me part of things,” Brianne said.

Jake muttered a curse and started to sweat. He didn’t know what she was up to, but her odds of escaping safely rose only if she kept her mouth shut. He didn’t want her trying to elicit a confession or making herself even more expendable in Ramirez’s eyes. At this point, they’d have Ramirez on a good number of charges. Jake couldn’t give a damn about the drugs. All he wanted was an easy shot that didn’t put Brianne at risk of taking a bullet at the same time.

“Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman. Did you like them? It galls me to admit it, but you’ve got taste, Lowell. I wanted a bite for myself.” He ran the butt of the gun down Brianne’s cheek, and she stiffened in her seat. “It’s a pity I’m going to have to miss out. Screwing her would have been screwing

you at the same time.” Ramirez laughed, the chilling sound a knife in Jake’s gut.

Brianne shuddered with a revulsion she couldn’t hide.

“Come on, Louis,” Jake said. “If you kill another cop, you won’t walk on a technicality this time.” And if he killed Brianne, Jake would make sure he took Ramirez out before going down himself.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Ramirez said.

Brianne glanced at Jake and silently implored him not to do something rash. She knew he longed for a deadly shot at Ramirez. One that would end things for good. She swallowed over the lump in her throat and refused to look down at her torn shirt.

But she knew, as if she could read his mind, that he blamed himself for her situation. He believed she sat in this chair with Ramirez holding a gun to her head because Jake had cuffed her and disappeared.

She couldn’t tell him now and might never get the chance, but she forgave him. Whether or not he loved her the way she loved him—and the jury was still out on that one since he’d had no reaction to her declaration earlier—she wouldn’t hold it against him. She understood that she’d cornered him until he had no choice but to protect her from herself.

He met her gaze again, and, in those brief moments, Brianne felt an unspoken shift in their relationship. An acknowledgment of emotion that would have to be dealt with—if they got out of this alive.