LITMIR.BIZ

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“Retired cop?”

      Griff grinned. “That obvious?”

      Obvious he’d found himself a cushy job while collecting his pension. “I have a couple of brothers who are cops—it’s just the look.”

      He walked behind Griff and hovered over his shoulder. “Why is that monitor dark?”

      “Couldn’t tell you. I’m not the tech guy. It’s been reported and someone’s going to come out to work on it.”

      “Which area does it cover?”

      “The garage, I think.” He slapped his magazine down on the desk and tapped a few keys on the keyboard, which did nothing at all. “Yeah, that’s the garage.”

      “What are your shifts here?”

      Griff shot a look beneath shaggy eyebrows at London, who lifted one shoulder. “Eight to four, four to midnight, and midnight to eight. It’s twenty-four-hour coverage.”

      “Do you ever leave the desk?”

      The guard picked up his celebrity magazine and shook it out. “When nature calls, buddy.”

      “Lunch? Patrols around the building?”

      “Yep.”

      “Any coverage when that happens?”

      “Nope.”

      Judd rapped on the desk with his knuckles. “Thanks for the info, Griff.”

      He hadn’t meant to piss off the old guy, but some people took his tone the wrong way. Hell, London had hired him to protect her, not make nice with lazy security guards. The guys on the night shifts had to be better.

      As he followed London across the lobby to the elevators, he glanced up at the cameras in the corners—visible and easy to dismantle or block.

      London stabbed at the elevator call button and hissed, “Why were you interrogating Griff like that? He’s a good guy.”

      “He’s a retired cop who found himself an easy gig where he can sit on his ass and read celebrity rags.”

      “Shh.” She put a finger to her lips, her sculpted eyebrows colliding over her nose.

      The elevator doors whispered open and he stepped into the mirrored car after London. “Just calling it like it is. I’m here to assess the risks to your security and I just found two of them. You don’t let random strangers into the building just because they buzz your place, do you?”

      “No, sir.” She trailed a finger across her left breast. “Cross my heart.”

      He dragged his gaze away from her cleavage and backed up against one mirrored wall. “Good, because that’s just stupid. What’s the point of having a coded key entry?”

      “No point at all.”

      “Are you making fun of me? Because this is serious. This is your security.”

      Her smile twitched at one corner. “It’s just that you got all stern on me and poor Griff.”

      God, he must’ve come across like his brothers. He folded his arms across his chest. “Just doing my job, ma’am.”

      “And I appreciate that.”

      The elevator dinged to a stop and the doors slid open onto a quiet hallway. The shiny marble from the lobby had been replaced by carpet so thick his boot would probably leave a crater in the pile.

      “How many places up here?” He glanced down the hallway. Technically she had the penthouse, since her place occupied the top floor of the building, but it looked as if she shared the space with at least one other unit.

      “Two.” She had her keys in her hand.

      “Who’s your neighbor?”

      “I don’t have one.”

      “Is the other place for sale?”

      “No.” She spun around at her door. “I own the other place. I bought it when the previous owner gave it up.”

      He held up his hands at her defensive tone. “Hey, I’d do the same.”

      She shoved her key into the dead bolt and froze. “Judd.”

      “What?”

      “I always lock my dead bolt, and it’s not locked.”

      Adrenaline shot through his system and he reached for the weapon in his gun bag. “Step back, London. Let me go through first.”

      She unlocked the door handle and he twisted it. He raised his gun, easing the door open.

      He took in the scene before him. Either London Breck was one messy heiress or her place had been tossed.

      She gasped behind him and let loose with a string of profanities.

      Her place had been tossed.

Chapter Five

      London pushed past Judd’s solid frame, but he grabbed her around the waist before she hit the foyer, nearly lifting her off her feet.

      “Hold on. We have no idea if the perpetrator is still here or not.”

      “Perpetrator?” Her blood simmered and she felt like putting her fist through the wall. “I’ve got a few other choice names for him.”

      “Yeah, you just screamed them in my ear.” He tugged on his earlobe and tilted his head back. “How big is this place?”

      “Big.”

      Judd kept his gun in front of him, and she almost wished the SOB was still here so he could get a load of that.

      “Okay, stay with me and we’ll do a sweep of the place, unless you want to leave now and call the cops.”

      “I’m hoping we catch him in the act. I’m not waiting for the cops.”

      “All right, Calamity Jane, just stay behind me in case he is.”

      She stayed close to Judd as she directed him through the rooms of the condo, each one ransacked and upended. They even looked in the closets and under the beds, but the slimeball had done his dirty work and escaped.

      He replaced his gun in what she assumed was an out-of-character fanny pack and hooked a thumb in one belt loop. “Now that we know he’s not here, do you want to see what’s missing? I’ll get on the phone and call the cops.”

      Crooking her finger at him, she marched across the great room and through the double doors to the library. She placed both hands against a bookshelf and shoved. It turned into the wall, exposing a cavity with a squat metal safe in the center.

      Judd whistled. “That’s some James Bond stuff right there.”

      She aimed the pointed toe of her boot at the safe. “All my important papers and real jewelry are in there, except for the important papers and real jewelry in some safe-deposit boxes.”

      “Check it just to make sure.”

      She crouched in front of the safe and he turned away while she spun the dial on the combination lock. He did take his job seriously.

      The safe opened with a heavy click and she pulled open the door. “You can peek now.”

      He squatted on the floor beside her, his hands braced on his muscled thighs, his shoulder brushing hers. They were almost as close as they’d been on that motorcycle. Every time he’d gone downhill, which had seemed to happen a lot, the decline had thrown her against his back. She’d fought mightily against resting her head against his shoulder and exploring beneath his shirt with her hands.

      That ride, with him between her legs and the monster machine buzzing beneath her, had been about the most sensuous journey she’d

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