Luke Read online

  She gestured to the large dog snoozing in the sunspot with a cat on either side of him. “Got time to help me out?” she asked.

  “Sure.” The dog was a regular client named Daisy Duke, and she came out of a dead sleep at Spence’s voice, leaping over the cats in sheer joy as she headed right for him. When she got to him, she jumped up and down in place, attempting to lick his face. Spence calmed her down somewhat, hooked her up to the leash, and hit the courtyard with her, heading toward the wrought-iron gates so he could walk her to doggy Disneyland—the park.

  But Daisy Duke wasn’t a walker. She was a runner. More accurately, she was a 125-pound bunny, bounding with enthusiastic energy, tugging at the leash.

  “Hold your horses, Daze,” he said. “Save it for the park.” He muscled her to his side, his mind miles away on his drone problems. Lost in thought, he wasn’t exactly on his game when a black cat appeared out of nowhere.

  With an excited bark, Daisy Duke broke free to charge after it, heading back toward the fountain and the woman now standing there, suitcase at her side, arm primed to throw a coin into the water.

  The cat managed to dodge the woman, but Daisy Duke wasn’t nearly as dexterous. Barreling forward at warp speed, she clearly saw the problem at the last minute because she let out a bark of surprise. She was probably mostly Irish setter, but Spence was pretty sure she was also part Wookiee. She was huge and uncoordinated, and a few crayons short of a full box. She did drop her head and try to stop, but her forward momentum was too much. Her back end slid out from beneath her and she flipped onto her back, plowing headlong into the woman and toppling her over.

  Right into the water.

  Jesus. “Stay,” Spence said to Daisy and lurched forward as the woman pushed up to her hands and knees in the water, coughing and sputtering. “Are you okay?”

  Gesturing that she didn’t need his assistance, she swiped a hand down her face, muttering what sounded like “I should’ve gone to Toronto.”

  She was completely drenched thanks to him, and yet she wasn’t yelling. She got serious points for that, he thought. And because she was wearing one of those flowy dresses that gave a man thoughts about what might or might not be under said dress, along with a denim jacket and boots—all of which were now clinging to her and fighting her efforts—he stepped into the fountain to help her.

  “The water’s…warm,” she said in surprise. “It’s freezing out. How is the water warm?”

  He looked down at the water. Green. He could feel coins beneath the soles of his shoes. “That can’t be good.”

  She choked and he did a mental grimace. He deserved the tears. Hell, he deserved fury. But when she lifted her face, he realized she was laughing?

  She’d found humor in this shitty situation.

  He felt something shift in his chest at that, a zing of attraction maybe, which he hadn’t seen coming. In fact, he actually wasn’t seeing too much at all, since he was now nearly as wet as she, including his glasses. He took them off to wipe the lenses on his equally wet shirt and eye contact was made.

  She had big green eyes. Big, green, smiling eyes. “I’m a mess,” she said.

  That wasn’t what he was thinking. Her clothes were plastered to her body. Her very nice, curvy body. He forced his gaze back to her face, then stepped out of the fountain and turned back for her, offering a hand.

  She took it but still fumbled because her dress had shrink-wrapped itself to her legs, making moving all but impossible. They struggled a moment, hands grappling for purchase on each other until finally he just wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her out, then set her down on the cobblestoned ground.

  “Wuff!” Daisy had flopped around on her back for a few seconds, trying to right herself. Eventually she’d given up and stayed down, tail wagging like crazy, her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth.

  That is, until she eyed something in one of the big potted trees lining the courtyard, now decorated to within an inch of their lives with lights and ornaments.

  The black cat.

  “Stay,” Spence warned the dog and turned back to the woman.

  “Thanks,” she said, her voice matching her husky laugh. “Appreciate the help…” She paused, clearly waiting for him to fill in his name.

  “Spence,” he said, purposely skipping his last name. Anonymity was hard to come by lately, but he’d made a habit of keeping up the effort.

  “Well,” she said. “Thanks for the help, Spence.” And then she…turned to walk away.

  “Wait—” He’d gotten her soaked and he felt terrible about that. He wanted to make sure she was okay, that he got her dry and warm. “You didn’t tell me your name.”

  She looked back, seeming oddly reluctant. “Colbie,” she said. “My name is Colbie.”

  “Colbie, I can’t let you just walk away. You’ve got to be freezing cold. At the very least I owe you dry clothes and a warm drink.”

  “No, really. It’s okay.” She started to wring out her long, dark hair and paused. “You might want to stand back. My hair needs its own zip code when it’s wet.”

  This made him smile.

  “Oh, I’m not kidding,” she said.

  Out of all the women Spence had known in his life, he couldn’t think of a single one who’d be taking this so well, and shit, he realized she was absently rubbing her elbow. Gently, he pushed up the sleeve of her denim jacket and found an abrasion along with an already blooming bruise.

  “It’s nothing,” she said.

  Maybe, but her skin was broken and he had no idea what was in that water. “We need to clean that cut and ice your elbow. And I want to pay for your clothes to be cleaned or replaced—”

  “Wuff!”

  He shot the impatient Daisy a long look that promised no cookies today just as Elle came out of the elevator into the courtyard, striding toward them with a concerned look on her face. “Hi,” she said to Colbie. “I’m Elle Wheaten, the building manager. What happened? Are you okay?”

  “She took a header into the water,” Spence said. “Daisy’s fault.”

  They all looked at Daisy, who was sitting there smiling wide, not a concern in this world.

  “I’m taking Colbie upstairs,” he said. “To clean out her cut and get her some dry clothes.”

  Elle turned to him in shock.

  Spence understood the surprise. He usually avoided dealing with people, especially people he didn’t know. And then there was the fact that his penthouse apartment was an inner sanctum that he didn’t let just anyone into. “The gym,” he clarified, which was on the top floor next to his apartment. It had its own entrance, separate from his living quarters and office.

  “I’ll take her,” Elle offered, doing as she always did, which was keeping herself between Spence and the rest of the world.

  “Really,” Colbie said, her voice firm if not a little shaky. “Not necessary. I’m fine.”

  Spence didn’t claim to know all that much about women, but even he knew that fine didn’t mean fine. The scale went great, good, okay, not okay, I hate you, fine. And as a bonus, she was beginning to tremble from the cold as she gripped her suitcase and tried to walk off—not that her dress was having it.

  Colbie stopped fighting it, sighed, and tilted her head back. “Really? Are we serious with today?”

  Both Spence and Elle glanced up at the sky. Nothing but clouds. He looked over at Elle, who was brows up, giving him a slow shake of her head. And while it was true that Elle was one of his best friends and he trusted her with his life, he didn’t agree with her silent opinion to just let the woman go.

  He couldn’t. There was just something about the very wet, cute-yet-sexy Colbie No-Last-Name that appealed to him in a way that nothing else had in a long time. So when she tripped over her dress yet again and swore with a low, muttered “Son of a beach!” he grabbed for her, keeping her upright.

  “Please,” he said as her clothes began to soak his. “Please let me help you.”

  At h
is other side, Elle’s mouth fell open. She wasn’t used to hearing the word please from him. Ignoring her, he kept his gaze on Colbie.

  Wary, she rolled her eyes, but gave a slight nod. She’d let him help her out but she wasn’t happy about it.

  Fair enough.

  Chasing Christmas Eve

  will be available September 26th, 2017,

  wherever books are sold!

  Chasing Christmas Eve. Copyright © 2017 by Jill Shalvis.

  BOOKS BY JILL SHALVIS

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  If she has her way …

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  ISBN-13: 978-1-488-08469-0

  Luke

  First published by Harlequin Temptation in 2003

  This edition published in 2017

  Copyright © 2003 by Jill Shalvis.

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