The Protector. Jule Mcbride

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The Protector - Jule Mcbride


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she uttered that soft grunt that made Sully wonder if she’d sound like that while making love. If making love was the right terminology. After all, she was brilliant. She’d been at the top of her class in law school, and like many overachievers, she was tightly controlled, her manner challenging. Possibly, that control would extend to the bedroom.

      Yeah, she was the kind of woman who’d let her mind get in the way of what her body wanted in bed, Sully figured. But then again, he could be wrong. Judith was also beautiful and inaccessible—a dangerous package. Maybe she was the type who was all-control until she suddenly let loose like an animal. Sometimes when he thought about it—which, of course, he tried not to—he imagined having hard, urgent sex with her. Hands roughly pushing up the hemline of her conservative skirts, buttons popping off blouses that covered small, firm breasts, panties trapped around thighs…

      “About an hour ago, I met some eyewitnesses who placed your father at the Manhattan Yacht Club,” she was saying. “They saw him there late last night, boarding a boat named the Destiny.”

      Realizing his mind had strayed, and that his mouth had gone dry, Sully pulled his attention back to the case. He nodded. “Right. That’s the boat that exploded off Seduction Island early this morning. Did your informants say he was alone when he boarded?”

      She hesitated. “Witnesses didn’t mention seeing anyone else on deck.”

      “Could he have handled the craft by himself?”

      “Is he good with boats?”

      “Yeah. As far as I know. He likes to fish.” It was the only outdoor activity his father enjoyed. Sully’s middle brother, Rex, was a fisher, too, so it was a shame the two had never gotten along well enough to share the experience.

      Judith was nodding thoughtfully. “If your father’s used to fishing, he could handle the boat. It was sizable, but not a problem if he knew what he was doing. I’m leaving from here to take a team to the island. A Realtor, Pansy Hanley, says the explosion woke her. Maybe she’ll remember something. The local PD’s been diving into the wreck since it happened.”

      Rifling a hand through his short hair, Sully bit back a sigh as he thought of Seduction Island, a small key off the coast of New York, it lay to the south of better known harbors such as Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket. “My brother Rex is heading down there, also.”

      Judith stiffened. “Pardon my saying so, Steele,” she said, “but it’s awfully nice of me to come down and tell you what’s going on—”

      “Not really,” he swiftly countered. “You said Joe sent you. You came here to get information, not give it, Judith.”

      “However, I am apprising you of the investigation.”

      Her tone was meant to remind him that she didn’t have to. “Then please continue,” he stated.

      She didn’t speak for a minute, and Sully suspected she was holding her breath and counting to ten. “I can’t have you, Rex, Truman or anybody else interfering with my investigation,” she warned succinctly.

      Sully’s temper was growing shorter by the minute. “Our father vanished,” he reminded her. “He was aboard a boat that exploded. The Steeles need to know if there was foul play.”

      “You don’t trust me to do my job?”

      He set his lips in a grim line. If there was anyone he’d trust to get to the bottom of his father’s disappearance, it was her. She was rumored to be the best, not that he’d tell her that. “That’s not the issue, Judith.”

      She merely stared at him, her gaze cool. “If you Steeles withhold information, I’ll arrest each and every one of you for aiding and abetting a suspect.”

      “He’s our father, not a suspect.”

      Their gazes locked, and Sully couldn’t believe the ease with which Judith maintained eye contact. Most people withered under the stare he’d perfected for years. Calculated to unnerve the hardest of criminals, his unflinching, penetrating gaze usually made people fidget immediately.

      Keeping his voice low, still overcorrecting for a temper he was on the verge of losing, Sully said, “My father could be dead. You realize that, don’t you? The Destiny exploded.”

      She nodded curtly. “We haven’t found any bodies.”

      He knew that, too. According to one source, a sandbar off the coast was positioned so that Augustus’s body might have washed up there, if he was dead. But Judith was right. There’d been no sign of any bodies. Nevertheless, Sully’s gut tightened. No one in the Steele family would rest easy until Augustus was found. Rex and Truman were pulling out all the stops—Rex by heading to the island, Truman by calling his contacts around town.

      Abruptly, Sully broke eye contact with Judith and circled the desk. For a barely perceptible second, she looked as if she wanted to back across the threshold, and when he stopped before her, her body became almost unnaturally still, as if she were determined not to react. The only thing Sully saw moving was the pulse in her throat, which he could swear was now ticking more rapidly. His attention lingered a second too long on a smooth hollow beneath her ear, then drifted down her slender neck to where pale gray silk draped creamy skin, looking like expensive ribbon on a velvet-wrapped present.

      She might be one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, but her personality, quite simply, sucked. “I’d like to know one thing,” Sully couldn’t help but murmur, coming an inch closer, just near enough that she’d feel his breath and the coiled power in his body.

      She was tall, but not as tall as he, and because she was looking up, her wary stare came through a fringe of black eyelashes. He inhaled sharply, pulling in her scent. No woman had a right to be so beautiful, he thought vaguely, or to smell so good. Especially not a cop from Internal Affairs. And even less, a woman who intended to prosecute his father, something that made her the enemy.

      “What do you want to know, Steele?” she finally asked.

      “What happened that turned you to ice?” His voice had inexplicably hushed to a whisper. Suddenly, he was fighting the urge to lift a finger and touch her face—maybe because the gesture would send her packing. Or maybe just because he simply wanted to touch her.

      Had Judith Hunt had many men? he wondered, his gaze arrested by her astonishing mouth. Had many hungrily captured those lips? Tasted their honey? Despite all the speculation, Sully had never heard of her dating. She always came alone to city events. She’d never married. But surely a woman this beautiful got a lot of offers. He imagined she dated higher-ups—the big brass from downtown, men with expense accounts and car services.

      For a second, Sully almost believed he’d unsettled her. Her gaze faltered, but when she spoke, her voice was level. “Steele,” she said, “I’m not made of ice.”

      “I said my father might be dead.”

      “I know that. And I have compassion for your situation,” she added, her voice catching huskily. “I really do.”

      “Compassion?” he echoed. What did this by-the-book woman know about how Sully’s mother was feeling right now? Did Judith know Sheila was just five blocks away, pacing around the courtyard garden behind the brownstone where Sully and his brothers had grown up? Or that Rex was giving up his vacation to join in the desperate search to find their father? Or that Truman was glued to a phone, questioning contacts, while Judith was planning her little jaunt over to Seduction Island? He’d never been there, but he’d visited vacation spots close to the New York shore such as Plum and Fire Islands. Even at that distance from the bustle of New York City, the waters of the Atlantic became crystal clear and cerulean.

      “Compassion,” Sully repeated dryly. “Oh, Ms. Hunt, I’m sure you’ve got it just the way they’ve got everything else downtown.”

      Her eyes turned watchful. “How’s that?”

      “In quadruplicates.”

      Her


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