Under Pressure (Body Armor #1)

That night, two different men had approached her, but she’d ignored them both. They were smooth, polished and made assumptions as only the entitled could. She’d wanted less of that world, not more.

Leese wasn’t like that. Sure, the man had confidence in spades. But it was different. She had a feeling he’d earned everything he’d ever gotten.

The way he’d looked around when they entered the penthouse told her he hadn’t often seen that type of luxury, but he didn’t let it intimidate him.

In fact, she couldn’t imagine anything or anyone intimidating Leese.

Remembering how easily he’d leveled Tesh left her breathless in awe. Thinking of the muscled strength on every inch of his body, the heated way he looked at her and the hungry way he’d kissed her left her breathless in an entirely different way.

There’d been nothing refined in his touch or attitude—and something very basic inside her thrilled at that fact. She’d bet her own safety that Leese had never taken a shortcut through the hardships. No, he’d probably just worked his way past them.

Twisting, Cat looked at the rear view in the mirror. The straps were cut in a way to leave her back almost entirely bare. Inspired, she darted back to a dressing table and pinned up her hair in a casual twist that left a few long tendrils free.

For once, she actually felt sexy.

The shoes were all a size too big for her, so she ignored them and went for the jewelry, settling on long chandelier earrings in sparkling silver.

Getting dolled up made her want to dance, so she headed to the living room and a state-of-the-art sound system. As she left the carpet and her feet touched the smooth tile floor, she realized it was heated.

Heaven.

After wiggling her toes, she examined the stereo. Much of the available music didn’t interest her; she’d never had mellow tastes in that regard. Another way she was weird. Her family liked classic music...and she rocked to heavy metal.

She scrolled through every option until she found some hard rock. Immediately her heart picked up the beat and, feeling free, she stood to dance. Sure enough, the bourbon gave her a nice buzz to go with the music that now played throughout the penthouse. Carefree for the first time in ages, Cat let herself go—and forgot about everything else.

*

APPARENTLY THE PENTHOUSE was well insulated, because Leese had no forewarning until, arms filled with grocery bags, he shouldered open the door and got hit with the loud screeching of a metal band.

Even more surprising was Cat, looking like sex personified in a slinky black dress that left tantalizing swaths of her body exposed as she danced, arms up and eyes closed, in the middle of the floor with abandon.

Ridiculously captivated, Leese closed and relocked the door, then just stood there and took it in.

She’d dolled herself up with makeup and she’d done something sexy and loose with her hair. He also noted the half-empty tumbler on the table.

So dressed up, dancing and drinking?

Not wanting to startle her, he quietly set the grocery bags on a foyer table, then went to the stereo and turned down the music.

Slowing her dance, Cat opened her eyes and focused on him. “Leese.” With a silly smile and a limp wrist, she brushed back a wayward curl. “You’re back.”

“Yeah.” And now he wanted her more than ever. All the lecturing he’d given himself was shot to hell the second he’d seen her. “What are you wearing?”

Smiling, she struck a seductive pose then twirled, sending the material to fan out around her legs. “Do you like it?”

The way the dress parted, she had to be naked underneath. For damn sure she wasn’t wearing a bra. “Yeah,” he growled, looking at her small bare feet. “I like it.”

“I’d hoped you would.”

Why the hell did she purr like that? “I thought your feet and hands stayed cold in the winter.”

“I decided to dress for dinner, except the shoes were all too big. Luckily, the floors are heated.” Dropping her voice, she whispered, “I feel a little pagan, all dressed up but barefoot.”

More like undressed, but whatever. “It’s sexy.” She was sexy—and he was definitely in trouble.

Wearing a sultry, seductive expression, she started toward him. He almost backed up, but then decided to stand his ground instead. “What are you doing?”

When she stood right in front of him, she smiled and reached around him to turn up the music again. “Dance with me.”

“I don’t dance.”

“Now’s a good time to start.” She curled both small hands around one of his and said again, “Dance with me.”

Desperation unfurled inside him. There was no way he could get close to her in that getup and still deny himself. “I thought you wanted me to cook dinner?”

“We haven’t even had lunch yet.”

And she’d been drinking on an empty stomach. “Sorry about that. I know you have to be hungry.”

“I’d rather dance.” She began swaying her hips.

“I got the phones. You said there were calls you wanted to make.”

“Later.” Back-stepping, she brought him toward the open floor.

“I need to put the groceries away.”

Her gaze darted to the door where he’d left several bags. Pouting, she said, “You have more excuses than I have lies.”

Jumping on that, Leese said, “What lies?”

Her smile slipped, then she frowned. “You don’t want to have sex, you don’t want to dance. You’re such a party pooper.”

Knowing he absolutely couldn’t talk about sex, especially with her in that dress, Leese cupped her face instead and concentrated on what she’d said. “What lies, Cat?”

“Forget it.” She shrugged free of his hands. “You’re the king of denial. Fine. Let’s go with that. But I’m dancing.”

She turned her back and sashayed out to the middle of the floor. Knowing he couldn’t stand there watching, Leese said, “I’ll get some food together.”

“Don’t be too long.” Hiking up the skirt, pretending he didn’t exist, she moved to the music.

Leese had to admit, the woman had rhythm.





CHAPTER SEVEN

TRYING NOT TO watch her, Leese carried the groceries to the kitchen and did a quick reorganization that made more sense than the present setup. He liked everything orderly, but this time the skill came with an effort.

Repeatedly his attention got drawn back to Catalina.

Was it his imagination, or were her gyrations more deliberately sensual now?

The sway of her slim hips, the ecstatic look on her face... Jesus, he almost felt like a voyeur, especially when he imagined her naked.

Would she look that hot during sex?

Would her face have that same expression of abandon if he pinned her to the wall and—

He didn’t need to visualize that.

He needed to concentrate on setting up the kitchen. Not an easy order when with every fiber of his being he knew Cat was right there moving in a way designed to make him insane.

With the groceries put away, he went about making a pitcher of fresh unsweetened tea. Next he sliced up the strawberries he’d bought and put them in a covered container. One way or another, he’d get Cat to eat a little healthier. And thinking of that, now would be a good time to let the chicken marinate—