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CHAPTER TWO

HEART racing, Elise shoved up from the wet grass, taking off as soon as she’d found her footing.

Oh, yeah, she got a list, all right. And the dog was on it.

Just as soon as she got him back.

Only she was losing ground at a rate that didn’t bode well for capture. Bruno tore across the open grass, then raced headlong through the “Agora” sculptural installation, giving Elise an instant of relief. Of the one hundred and six nine-foot cast-iron pieces, one of those freaky sets of legs was bound to catch the leash whipping behind Bruno with every wild lope.

Except then he’d broken free and without any signs of slowing. Not even as he closed in on the street …

Oh, God.

The Roosevelt/Michigan Avenue intersection surged with six lanes of downtown city traffic—buses, taxis, and cars, all gunning it to make their turn, catch the light, get where they were going.

She was too far behind.

“Bruno!” she called, panic slamming through her with the knowledge there was no way she could get to him in time.

No. Please don’t let this be happening. Please, please, please …

And then, suddenly it wasn’t. Two feet from the curb, Bruno wheeled around, jerked back from the street by the man who’d snared his leash at the last second.

“Bruno, heel!” The harsh command boomed with enough force to cow the puppy beast to the ground at his feet.

She couldn’t believe it. Bruno was safe. Saved. By some stranger she hadn’t even seen coming.

“Thank you,” Elise wheezed, only her voice came thin through lips that had gone as numb as the legs that had carried her that final distance to where they’d stopped. Dropping into a crouch, she buried her face in Bruno’s neck, sucking air in deep gulps until after a minute or two the buzzing in her head subsided and she tried for her voice again. “Thank you … So much … I can’t tell you how much I appreciate what you did.”

Lifting her face from Bruno’s warm fur, she squinted up at her rescuer, who was standing bent over, legs apart, hands on his knees. Breath ripping in and out of him in savage draws. Sweat-soaked hair hung in front of his brow, obscuring his face from view as he gave a short nod of acknowledgment.

Returning her attention to Bruno, she rubbed her fingers through his short hair, each stroke another reassurance that this sweet, sleekly powerful dummy was okay. His tongue spilling out of his giant, toothy mouth, she could swear he was grinning at her.

“Yeah, you’re fine,” she said, the tremors within her easing. “Which means … you’re so on my list.”

Beside her, her savior chuckled, straightening to his full height. “He’s a dog. You can’t put him on your list.”

That voice. Low, deeply masculine. Distinctive with the kind of roughed-up character a woman didn’t forget. Especially when the seductive rumble of it had punctuated the high points of her sexual existence just one week before.

Oh, God, it couldn’t be him. And yet that same frisson of awareness she’d felt at the first bookstore bump told her it was. That and the sheer size of him. The man was big enough that before she could make it past his bare chest to his face she had to start again, beginning back at his oversized running shoes, working up the solid cut of his calves to where the powerful slabs of his thighs flexed and bunched beneath his shifting weight.

Wow, he had a lot of leg. A lot of well-muscled, cut-from-stone, chase-down-a-Great-Dane, Clark-Kent-out-for-a-jog leg, braced in one of those uber-masculine stances that somehow combined total fatigue with a readiness to go again. Leg that ended beneath a pair of steel-gray mid-length running shorts that were just the right amount of loose to—

“Elise … you’re looking up my shorts.”

“What? No,” she gasped, shocked. First, in hearing her name, which confirmed her rescuer’s identity, and then, because—oh, God—she totally was! Only it wasn’t some creepy, salacious leer. Not really. It was just that this was the first time she was seeing the details of the body she’d been wrapped around—had explored with her hands and mouth, had lain awake each night since thinking about—in the light of day. Sure she’d had an idea of what he was built like. Touch was a powerful sense and there’d been enough diffused light from the streetlamps outside for her to see the general dimensions, but this—

Not asking him to leave a lamp on had been a monumental mistake.

That powerful musculature bunched again, showcasing yet another hypnotic set of furrows, planes, and ridges. Her belly tensed, tightened with the knowledge that she’d had this.

Even his knees were nice—

“Yeah,” he said with a gruff chuckle. “Except you are. Right now. Still.”

Elise slapped her hands over her eyes. “No … well, okay, yes, I was … b-but it’s not like you think,” she stammered, humiliation—hot and intense—knocking her onto her backside as she grappled for a recovery from what, in that moment, seemed mortification of the unrecoverable variety. “You’re just so big and …”

This time his laughter burst out, full and robust. Unrestrained. And the hands she’d only seconds ago dared to release from her eyes instantly clapped over her mouth.

Levi crouched beside her, giving her a square-on look at his face. At the stone-carved cut of his heavy cheekbones, the straight line of his nose, and his squared-off, solid jaw. God, everything about this man said strength. Everything except those deep, whirlpool-blue eyes of his that seemed to warn of danger even as they drew her in with a splash of promised fun.

She’d really hoped never to see him again.

One dark brow cocked to match the smile slanted across his lips, sending a flutter of nervous butterflies batting about within her. “Sweetheart, you just get better and better.”

“Uh-h-h …” was all the farther she’d gotten before he wrapped his big hand around her elbow, and tugged her to her feet. Maybe it was the too fast shift to standing or the lingering effects of her adrenaline rush, or maybe it was just the insane reaction of her body and mind being in such close proximity to the best time they’d had in too long to remember, but suddenly her legs weren’t quite steady, her knees gone elastic beneath her … And then she was stumbling forward. Straight into the solid wall of hard-packed, hot-to-the-touch, make-her-shiver-and-burn-all-at-once Levi Davis.

“Whoa, you okay?” he asked, the amusement in his tone tinged with concern. His right hand was still closed around her elbow and the left had caught her at the small of her back, holding her in a flush press from thigh to breasts, palms flat against his abdomen, fingertips resting in the shallow well between two tensed muscles.

Eyes straight ahead, staring at the flat masculine nipple mere inches from her face, she managed a slight nod. Blinked and tried to draw a mind-cleansing breath, reminding herself of all the reasons she needed to keep her distance from a man like this … mainly that he was a walking, talking, Bermuda Triangle to good judgment, the pull of him sending her moral compass into a tailspin.

She needed to get a grip. Take a few cleansing breaths to clear her head.

In through the nose—

Oh, bad idea. Very bad. This close, all she could smell was the heady scent of clean, masculine exertion.

Sweat.

Soap.

Levi.

God, he smelled so good she nearly groaned. But on the heels of the shorts incident, she’d come across looking like some kind of park-side predator taking advantage of his good Samaritan tendencies to cop a feel and sneak a peek.

She swallowed, trying to ignore the spicy scent of him spurring shadowed memories of his body moving above hers, their limbs a slick tangle, her tongue tracing a salty path up one flexed bicep—

Not helping.

Shake it off, Elise. This man just rescued Bruno. Thank him and step away.

Pushing her gaze upward, she found him staring down at her, the churning depths of his gaze impossible to read.

Or maybe not so impossible after all.

The fingers at her back tensed so the tips pressed into her skin, and the air around them took on the same slow-building charge she’d felt sparking between them that first night. The one that seemed infinitely more dangerous a week past her one-night’s expiration date.

“Trouble, trouble,” he murmured, gaze dropping to her lips.

Trouble. He’d said it just inside her apartment, those hard-hewn features wearing an almost bewildered expression. And then he’d leaned in for one last kiss that had flamed as out of control as the rest of their night.

“Yeah.” She let out a shaky breath, taking a deliberate step back. “But I swear, it’s only physical.”

The corner of Levi’s mouth kicked up as he pushed a few fallen strands from his brow. “Thanks. That’s a relief. Me too.”

“Okay, good.” She was sure that was good. And equally sure there was more truth in Levi’s words than there had been in her own.

Man, this girl was priceless, but she wasn’t getting that dog home alone. All it would take was a pigeon or some stray scrap of trash blowing by and little miss muddy package wouldn’t just smear through the grass—she’d be bouncing down East Balboa Street, and Bruno here would be loose for a nasty game of street tag. Neither of which were acceptable. So after a quick check of the time, he said, “Okay, let’s head back to your place. But we’ve got to make it quick. I need to be at the club in about an hour.”

Her brow crinkled as she gave him a sort of perturbed once-over, crossed her arms against her chest, and took a small step back. “Levi, I really, really appreciate you saving Bruno, and I know I was looking … and then with what I said … but I can’t have sex with you again.”

Sex?

On a day when he hadn’t thought he’d even crack a smile, Levi found himself giving into another laugh. Rubbing a hand over his jaw, he shook his head. “I’m offering to help you get the dog home. And so we’re clear, I’m offering in spite of the fact that you were looking up my shorts … not because of it.”

She blinked at him, shifting her feet. “I swear I wasn’t trying to pick you up with that.”

“I get it,” he said straight-faced, taking up some of the slack on Bruno’s leash as she waved in the general direction they were heading. “You just like to look.”

“What—no! Excuse me,” she huffed, all indignant now. “The shorts thing was—ack, just forget it.”

“Mmm-hmm. Whatever.” The shorts thing was the highlight of his year. And the pretty pink blush burning its way up her cheeks at that moment was coming in for a close second. Especially with the contrasting streaks of mud across her chin and chest, the few blades of grass tucked into the vee of her jogging tank, and the knot of sexy, disheveled gold atop her head. It made her look kind of innocent and dirty all at once.

Not exactly a turn-off.

Not that it mattered.

He’d already decided, no more sex.

“So how are the plans for the studio coming?” he asked, remembering how excited she’d been about it and figuring business talk would keep his head out of places it shouldn’t go. “You talk to the salon down the street about the reciprocal discounts?”

The little scowl straining Elise’s lips split into a beaming smile as she recounted the conversation she’d had with the salon owner, then she spun into some ideas she’d had about promotions, the neighborhood, and maximizing the space before touching on a few suggestions he’d made the first time they’d talked about her plans. Her enthusiasm was contagious. Attractive. And the more she bubbled on about square footage and curb appeal, the more he had to remind himself he was just getting Elise to her front door. Not pinning her against it to find out just how dirty and wet that slip through the mud had gotten her.

CHAPTER THREE

“YOU’RE telling me Bruno needs a babysitter?”

Rounding the corner of her block, Elise shrugged at Levi’s incredulous expression. “I know it’s nuts. But what can they do? He chews furniture and apparently he took a half-inch off their back door, digging to get out.”

Levi reached down to give Bruno’s ears a good rub. “You need some obedience training, my man.”

No doubt. “I think my brother-in-law, David, started classes. But then Ally’s pregnancy had a few complications, and after that they had a new baby and—Bruno basically got lost in the shuffle. Family chaos. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, sure.” The flow of conversation between them came to a standstill as Levi studied the old printing houses, the clock tower rising above the historic Dearborn Station.

A few minutes later, they were at her building.

“Well, this is me.” She waved a hand toward the front entrance, the motion stalling when she realized how much dried mud covered the back of her arm. Levi was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen … and this was how he’d remember her?

Unfair.

“Thank you for what you did today,” she said, then added an only mildly awkward, “It was nice seeing you again.”

His mouth took on that lazy slant that set off yet another batch of butterflies within her. “I’ll help you get Bruno inside and then take off.”

She nodded a little stiffly, but turned and led the way. It wasn’t going to be like before. She was covered in mud and he was just making sure she got Bruno in safely. He’d probably let the dog go at her door and wish her a good life.

Which was completely fine.

Inside the security door, she paused to consider the elevator. Remembered the confines of that space pressing in on them as they’d stood at opposite ends of the car the last time he brought her home. How, by the time they’d gotten off at her floor, the tension between them was snapping taut and it had taken everything they had to make it into her apartment.

“We’ll walk up with Bruno,” she said, going for a casual tone she didn’t quite feel.

“Good idea,” he agreed, that knowing smile tingeing the words.

Fine. So what if he did know? It wasn’t any secret there was chemistry between them. Or that neither of them were interested in giving in to it again. Definitely not.

Levi blew out a controlled breath. This was worse than the elevator. At least there, he’d been able to watch the floors pass as an attempt at distraction. But here on the stairs, that heart-shaped bottom swinging at eye level less than a handful of steps away had his fingers flexing at his sides. Palms heating at the memory of how she’d fit into them.

What she’d liked.

What more she might—

Not again. He knew too much about her to pretend the one more time he’d be after to get her out of his system wouldn’t be misleading.

So he’d just look.

Let his mind wander with the swing of each step and the tight hug of snug shorts that left next to nothing to the imagination. Damn, he liked those.

At the third floor Elise descended down the hall to her door. She didn’t fumble the keys the way she had that first night. But then he wasn’t pressed against her back with his mouth on the sweet spot at the curve of her neck either.

Not yet, anyway.

As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, Elise cast a slow glance over the shoulder, the smoke in her eyes swirling thick.

Bruno gave a sharp bark and went for the door, pushing past Elise on his way in. The smoke cleared and she laughed, shaking her head as the dog tore around the couch, his paws skidding out from beneath him at the corner. And then he was lunging for her again, backing her up with the bulk of his weight.

“Down, boy.” Bruno dropped to the floor and waited expectantly as Levi crossed to rub his ears.

What was Elise going to do with this dog? “How long have you got him?”

“Maybe another hour, I’m not sure. Just today though.” Elise made a move to sit on the love seat across from the door but caught herself even as Levi’s hand came up in warning.

“Ugh. Mud.” Shaking her head, she peered up at him. “You really think I can’t put him on my list?”

Levi considered, giving the woman in front of him a thorough once-over.

“Levi!” she laughed in amused accusation, obviously noting where his eyes had lingered.

“Yeah, I’ve got no problem with Bruno’s actions.”

A single curl tumbled across her brow. She swept it aside with the back of her hand, leaving another dirty smudge behind. “You like the mud.”

The mud. The shorts. The smile. The cut and curves that made up the shape of her. Reaching out, he brushed the spot with his thumb before forcing himself to walk to her door. “Amongst other things. Take care, Elise.”

Back against the refrigerator, cordless phone at her ear, Elise strained under the weight of Bruno’s bulk. A kitchen chair lay on its side and a three-foot radius around the Pyrex bowl she’d filled was pooled with water. “What do you mean you aren’t picking him up?”

“He must have done it before we left to meet you at the park, but David says it looks like Bruno chewed up half of Dexter’s toys from the nursery. He’s worried it’s territorial. That it wouldn’t be safe—” Ally’s voice trembled between broken gasps “—for him to come home.”

One jealous baby chewing up another baby’s things. No, this wasn’t good.

As if sensing his mommy on the other end of the line, Bruno huffed at the air, his tail wagging hard enough to shake the both of them.

“Ally, okay, take a deep breath.”

Her sister made a shaky attempt on the other end of the line. “Elise, I know you’re more busy than ever, but all our friends have kids and there’s no way I can take him to Mom’s.”

“No, of course not.” They’d always been a dog family, but some overgrown animal thundering through the house and threatening the routine that had become so critical to maintaining the status quo was the last thing any of them needed. Her mom wouldn’t admit it, but the situation at home had been deteriorating for months. Just yesterday, Elise had noticed the lines and shadows around her mother’s eyes had become more prominent. She’d lost weight. But she wouldn’t even consider making any changes. There was no way Bruno could go there. “I can handle it, don’t worry.”

“David mentioned the shelter, but Bruno’s not trained. And he’s going to have the stigma of being given up. What if they can’t find anyone to take him? What if they have to put him—?”

“No. That’s not going to happen. Bruno’s a good dog.” Sort of. Mostly. “He’ll be fine. I’ll keep him for now and we’ll find him a nice home with the right people.”

Dexter’s hungry wail sounded in the background. Ally sniffed, and Elise heard the shifting of the phone against her sister’s shoulder followed by the soothing hush of a mother’s comfort to her child. Closing her eyes, she let the sound of it wrap around her heart like a tiny fist.

“You just take care of Dex and don’t worry about anything. I’ll take care of Bruno. I promise.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Ally.”

Eighteen hours later Elise was nursing a new scrape down the side of her leg, a slamming headache, and a hard grudge against the Great Dane skidding across her oak floors. She’d spent the night making calls, seeing if anyone she knew was interested in a gently used, fixer-upper puppy beast who didn’t answer to her at all, but went by the name Bruno.

While she’d struck out so far, there were plenty of avenues left to investigate. She’d traded her morning classes to another instructor, but she’d mention him at her classes that afternoon.

Her anxious gaze landed on Bruno. She just had to get there.

Leaving Bruno in the apartment was unavoidable, so she’d deal with it. Tape some cardboard to the door before she went. Provide an arsenal of chewy toys in the hopes it meant he’d forgo the temptation of her couch leg. Whatever.

It was the walk before she left that overwhelmed her.

Staring out the front window at the swath of concrete and obstacle course of signposts, constant traffic, pedestrians, and hydrants, she winced.

David had come over the night before to drop off Bruno’s supplies and walk him. This morning she’d braved taking him out herself and barely made it back in one piece. She just hadn’t managed to assert her authority in a way that could compete with his brute strength.

She slumped into the couch, trying to ignore the thought that kept creeping into her mind. The obvious … intensely uncomfortable solution to her most immediate problem.

Bruno sat with his big Great Dane thighs sloppy, droolly jowls leaking all over as he stared up at her looking dumb and sweet. He was a big oaf who didn’t know any better and needed someone strong enough to show him how to behave.

There wasn’t another choice.

Levi shoved back from his desk, eyeing the phone in his hand with slow-rising satisfaction. Elise Porter.

He hadn’t even left her apartment before the sud-soaked shower fantasies had begun a relentless assault that, almost a full day later, had yet to cease. It had been a minor miracle he’d made it out of her building at all, and even more so that he’d managed the night without returning to talk her into another bad decision and work his way into her bed.

Just one thing had stopped him.

She’d tried to walk away. At the park and again outside her building.

The chemistry was there. Unmistakably. But she’d resisted it, because she knew—they both knew—he wasn’t the kind of guy who could give a woman like her what she needed.

So once he’d gotten her home safe … he’d done the right thing and left.

Only now, she’d called. Reopened a door he’d had one hell of a time forcing himself to close. Which meant all that noble, well-intentioned, do-the-right-thing garbage that had been the source of his sleepless night and his irritatingly, unproductive morning was done.

He eased deeper into his chair, pondering how she’d approach him. Maybe she’d ask for help washing some dirty spot she hadn’t been able to reach.

He wished. Connecting the line, he answered, “Levi here.”

“Umm, hello, Levi. This is Elise. Elise Porter … from last week at the bookstore … and after … and at the park yesterday … with Bruno …”

Again he was looking at the phone. Okay, so not the smooth approach he’d been anticipating—not that he should have been surprised. And from the sounds of it, she was still going on, trying to cast about more clues for him to nail down her identity.

How many women did she think he picked up during a week? “Elise, I know who you are.”

Her breath sounded in rush. “Okay, good. Thank you.”

More thanks? She could keep them. He couldn’t quite bring himself to accept praise for knowing whose body he’d been buried in a week ago. “Sweetheart, what can I do for you?”

“I know this is going to sound crazy and it’s sort of in violation of the unspoken one-night agreement, but I need a huge favor and you’re the only person who can help me.”

Levi’s head tipped to rest against the leather back of his chair. He couldn’t wait to hear this one, especially knowing the kind of tizzy she’d worked herself up to just calling. “What kind of favor are we talking about?”

His mind was already working through a few ideas in explicit detail. And if they were on the same page … he was feeling very generous.

“I’ve become Bruno’s temporary owner, but I still can’t quite handle him.”

The dog again. Well, he couldn’t knock the tactic. It had, after all, worked before.

“You’re the only guy I know who doesn’t work in the afternoons. I’d like to hire you to walk him today.”

Hire him?

Levi sat up in his chair, his mouth twitching against his barely restrained laughter. Damn, she was good. He was no stranger to women looking for excuses to get back within jumping distance of his bed, but, to date, he’d never had one offer cash as an incentive—not that he’d actually take it, but this was too good. “You want to hire me to walk Bruno? How much are we talking?”

Her sigh filtered through the line, heavy with relief. Gratitude. A nice touch. He liked a woman who didn’t skimp on the details.

“I was thinking fifteen bucks for thirty minutes at the park.”

“No.” As a rule, games weren’t his thing. But this one was too much fun not to play—And the truth was, he could have really used this call about twelve hours ago. So maybe he wanted to make her squirm a little. “I’ve already proven I can handle Bruno. Call it an even twenty and I’ll run him, too.”

That ought to throw a wrench in her plans. No chance of a long intimate talk if he was running down that beast of a dog. Let’s see how she wiggled out of this one.

“Deal. That’s perfect.”

Sure it was. He couldn’t wait to see what she came up with next. See if Bruno was there at all. Not that he cared. She’d scored major points for style and originality—despite the sporadic awkward factor he was coming to recognize as pure Elise. So she’d fabricated an excuse to reconnect with him, big deal. Whatever it took for her to make the call, he was on board with one hundred percent, because the fact remained … He just hadn’t had enough of her yet.