Hard Days Knight: Under-Cover Knights, Book 1 (2 page)

B
oth sets
of eyes turned toward Luc and he felt the color rise on his throat. The female officer’s partner walked to the back of the store. Her eyes pinned Luc’s from her lower height. “What am I missing here?”

She flipped through the contents of his wallet. “Triple Black Belt/Tae Kwon Do, Navy vet… what do you do for Knights Production, Inc.? Security?”

“And why fake weapons?” asked the officer named Jed as he sat the six-pack on the counter beside the female officer.

She took one look at his chosen refreshment and those delicate brows rose. “Non-alcoholic beer? You don’t even drink real beer?” She made a thorough scan of him from shoulders to boots. “Is there anything about you that’s genuine?”

Luc held his irritation in check. He knew the situation looked—odd—and the officers were just doing their jobs. “Look, I do some work for the studio. These…” he nodded with his chin and eyes toward his camos and the weapons gathered on the counter, “were for the part.”

Jed’s eyes widened as his brows went up. “Like stunt doubling?”

Luc hedged, “Yeah, like that.”

The blonde was sharp, though, picking up on his hesitation. Her head came up, eyes narrowing on his. He could see her mind working. He just waited while she flipped the
Actor’s Guild
card around to show him she’d seen it as well. She was probably contemplating his possible role as
robber
.

“Do you want to know what happened or what?”
Watch the attitude, Larue
. “Sorry, I assume you need to eliminate any suspicion of me before you can take these damn cuffs off?”
There you go again
. Luc blew out a breath and looked at the ceiling going through an entire kata in his head before looking back down at the woman named “Del”.

“We sure do, Lieutenant Larue,” her gaze never wavered.

So she’d seen his military ID. “Like I said before. I came by for a six-pack on my way home from work. I heard the cashier up front in distress. I looked around the end of the aisle and the guy had a shard of glass at her throat. He said if I didn’t give him my gun, he’d slice her throat. So I gave it to him. Obviously, I wasn’t afraid of the gun.” He shrugged. “After he threw the glass away I took the gun away from him and…that’s when you guys came in.”

Instead of being impressed, the beautiful lady cop seemed irritated. “You know, technically you could be in violation of weapons laws, wearing even a toy gun. Robberies have been committed with less.”

“Have they been thwarted as well?” Luc asked, which didn’t seem to elevate her mood.
Practice what you teach, man.
She pressed her fingers to the headset looped over her ear and listened.

Giving him her full attention again she said, “All right, you’ve made your point, Larue. Besides, I just got some more detail—our robber has numerous priors, and he always works alone.” She nodded at her partner to release him. “You’ll need to come down to the station in the morning and make a formal statement. It’s on 12th Street and Larue Boulevard. I assume you know where that is.”

He rubbed his wrists and smiled, “I’ll find it. Call me Luc. Can I get your names?”

D
el hesitated
. Larue, Louisiana was naturally home to many citizens bearing the last name of the town founders. Was this guy on some kind of mission to make her life more difficult? He was too confident, too good looking. What did he want with their names?

Jed beat her to the punch. “I’m Jed Stern and this is Delila—”

“
Del
Burke,” she finished, glaring at Jed, then at Larue. Was he the type to sue at the least provocation? She went over their procedures in her head wondering if they’d left any room for equivocation about his rights and their actions.

“You never know what might come up,” said Larue, winking at her. “Can I go?”

“Yes. Don’t forget to come to the station in the morning.”

He gave a small salute, turned toward the cashier and spoke to her in fluent Vietnamese. Before he left he said, “Be careful out there, hear?” and his broad shoulders disappeared through the front door.

T
he next morning
as Del made calls and did the endless tasks of cop paperwork, the receptionist buzzed her on the intercom.

“Yeah, Gail?”

“Ma’am, someone wants to see you. He says he’s here to pick up his weapons?”

“What’s his name?” though the giggle at the other end of the phone assured Del her guess was correct. She pictured the striking eyes and muscular form of Luc Larue just before he materialized in front of her desk, smiling. God, that smile was killer. Dressed in olive cargo pants and a tight black t-shirt that hugged his well-honed pecs and strained his biceps, he stood “at ease”. The t-shirt clung to his skin as if he’d just stepped out of the shower. Wavy black hair glinted blue under the florescent lights of the office. The long cut made him look like a Viking. Just one more item to add to the intrigue that was Luc Larue.

She’d checked him out. The only negatives were a reported suspicion of DUI the month before and an anonymous complaint to the department about his martial arts studio. The guy apparently stayed busy and she noticed in the reports she’d read—several investigations but no evidence that warranted arrest.

“Officer Burke.” He nodded, letting her take the lead, which was all the more disconcerting because he’d obviously come here wanting something other than his “weapon”. He’d already given his statement to the front-office clerk. Del steeled herself against the desire to know more about him and reached into her desk to retrieve the expensive fake gun.

“Quite an expensive toy you had there. Not sure why you wouldn’t just spring for the real thing. You have the creds to get a permit. Fourteen years military, a clean record.”

He shrugged, casually, “I don’t need a gun.”

Something about the confident way he’d said it convinced her he didn’t. She sighed and handed him the bag with the prop in it. “Here you go, then. Stay out of trouble, Mr. Larue.”

She figured when she looked down at her paperwork he’d get the hint that he’d been dismissed, but he didn’t get the message. Or he wasn’t easily dismissed.

“Call me Luc.”

“Was there something else you needed… Mr. Larue?”

He chuckled easily. “Yes, actually… Officer Burke.”

His eyes were on her chest and when Del looked down she realized he hadn’t been admiring her bust—darn—but looking at her badge. Her brows furrowed.

“Sorry, I was looking for your rank, Off—may I call you Del?”

Delilah started to protest but really, what was the point? He wasn’t a suspect, and he seemed like an okay guy—Navy reservist, gainfully employed, heroic citizen and all. She put the whole sense of “wrongness” yesterday down to the oddities of the circumstances and his attire. That gave her the slightest pause, because she was known for her instincts and she’d been wrong about him. Oh, come on, Del, you were doing your job, covering the bases.

She didn’t really want to encourage someone who’d been a suspect for even those few seconds, but he was way too easy to like, and she was getting those
boy-howdy-would-we-like-to-jump-his-bones
urges out of a rarely heard from region below her gun belt. She sent the little miscreants a
Now-is-not-the-time
message. They ignored her as well, whining when Luc placed one hip on the corner of her desk, allowing her to catch an enticing whiff of his scent, mingled with some kind of musky after shave. An image of him standing in front of his mirror with a towel wrapped around his waist as he applied that after shave… earth to Burke.
Earth to Burke
! The man is speaking.

She shrugged.
Why not?

“I have a proposition for you.” Ha. Now they’d stopped whining and were fist pumping,
yes
!

No, she thought, gritting her teeth.

“Wait, you haven’t heard me out,” he said, frowning.

Great, she’d spoken out loud. “I’m sorry, I was…had my mind on something else.” Like the way he filled out that t-shirt. The cut of his torso, the way those muscles bunched at the slightest of movements, how that gleaming black hair would feel in her hands.

“Hear me out, please. I need a female officer for a BE day.”

Oh, right
, some kind of kinky sex game where he’d “be” the bad “
Merc
” and she’d “be” the one with the handcuffs.

He smiled, watching her thoughts move across her features as that scene presented itself. “Officer, you’ve got a dirty mind.”

She wasn’t usually so
readable.
She scowled at him. “Larue, I don’t have all day.”

“Luc,” he reminded. “Okay, I’m serious. There’s a group of kids I’m presenting a program to Saturday afternoon. My expert for Saturday had to back out due to his wife going into labor early with twins.”

“You’re not by any chance talking about Detective Dunbar?”

“Yeah. So you know Tony. He’s done it for me the last couple of times. He’s always a hit with the young ladies.”

“He would be.” Tony Dunbar was an Italian charmer with five daughters and six sisters. “He’s charmed some of the most intractable suspects into confessing. What exactly is
it,
Larue?”

“Saturday is what we call BE day at LTF—that’s Larue Teens Forward, the old gym turned teen center.” Del had heard of the teen center, and, she couldn’t help it—the report about possible deviant behavior at the martial arts studio crept into her mind.

“It’s a pretty big deal. Some of the kids bring friends who are interested in seeing what the group is about. We have experts in different fields in weekend clothing answering questions about what they do.”

“Kind of like a career day?”

“Like that, but many of these kids were
cast aside
, expelled or otherwise fell through the cracks of society. We work to bring them back on their own terms into a stable and safe environment through mentoring.”

Damn, if she didn’t watch it, she’d fall for this guy. And he was so not her type.
They
were at it again,
aww, yes he is, he’s-our-type—
Del ignored
them.
“So what would I do? I don’t have much psychology o—”

“No, no. Just show up in your weekend clothes and if someone wants to know more about what you do or why you became a cop, you just share your story, answer questions about the job, and maybe steer someone away from some of those misconceptions or negative stereotypes about law enforcement. I think it will be good to have a lady cop. Get the young men asking questions for a change.” He grinned.

Please nothing from the spectators.
She was having enough trouble resisting this guy’s potent charm. Was it a façade or was he the real thing?

“I don’t know.” She wanted to do a bit more research into those reports in his file.

“Hey, I understand if you have plans. Why don’t you talk to Tony and let me know tomorrow. If you’re going to ditch on me I have to find somebody else.” He handed her another card.

“I’ll think about it,” Del said.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d more than think about it. Talk to Tony.”

A
fter he’d gone
she flipped his card around with her fingers. It read,
Larue Enterprises
and his logo was, “Challenge, as necessary as the air we breathe.”

The man had to have a triple load of testosterone. With that background and a job in private security he’d probably turn out to be an overbearing chauvinist with violent authoritarian tendencies. She’d be crazy to get any more involved with him.

She hit the intercom. “Gail, get me Tony Dunbar’s cell.”

It wouldn’t be the first time she did something crazy.

“
L
uc
, take your sword hilt with your left hand; grip it so the camera sees the back of your fist.” Luc moved his left hand as instructed, feeling the model in his arms shift so she could rub her leg against his groin.

“Quit, Mercy,” he gritted through a false smile. He twisted her hair more than necessary to make his point.

“That’s good, Luc. Mercy bend back like he’s using your hair to have his way with you. It’s a war of wills.”

“It is that,” Luc muttered. Every once in a while you came across a real Prima donna. That was Mercy Love. Even her fake name suited her, perfect for her porn star background. When they weren’t in front of the camera he had to avoid her completely to keep her from putting her hands on him. How she always managed to do just that during the shoot without the camera catching it amazed him. Even now her left hand was sliding down the back of the kilt—“Mercy,” he grumbled, knowing he’d lost the smiled.

“Stop, stop,” Roger complained. “Take a break. Luc, I need you to hold your pose longer. We’ll start again in ten.”

Luc ran his hand through his hair. He’d be glad when this shoot was over. He clomped down the hallway in the heavy boots to his dressing room.

“Lu-uc,” Mercy whined, “we could practice during the break.” The damn woman had followed him to the wardrobe room. He sighed. This particular shoot had taken twice as long as others for Roger. He didn’t want the photographer thinking he couldn’t do his job. He was afraid it was going to come to embarrassing the woman—if that was
even
possible. Who would believe
him
if he said he didn’t want the attentions of a woman with Mercy’s looks and sex appeal?

Mercy’s antics were getting to him more today. And it was Delilah Burke’s fault.
Delilah
. Her name suited her. He’d only gotten a hint of her beauty in that uniform, but…

“Damn it, Mercy.” He’d been trying to get into the wardrobe room, but when the hall emptied she’d twined her arms around his neck from behind and pushed herself against him, rubbing his back with her hard…fake…breasts. With his cheek pressed against the door, he ran through his options.

Luc knew enough women that some might consider him an expert. He appreciated and respected them too much to ever use force against one. But Mercy Love was unlike any of the other women in his life, and he was getting desperate. She had him in an awkward position, and she knew it. If she persisted, the only way he’d be able to get her off of him was to toss her against the opposite wall. Then she’d make a scene and accuse him of using his superior strength and size to assault her. He’d heard about her from a friend over at Victor Films. She was trouble. This would be his last shoot with her if he had anything to do with it. “If you don’t leave me be…”

“Oh, shut up, Luc. You’ve been making eyes at me, rubbin’ that hard body against mine. I know you want this.” Her hand moved down to cup his groin.

He reached down and grabbed her wrist. “Enough. I mean it.”

She ignored him, grinding her pelvis against his butt. “Oooh, the big man wants me to beg. Pleeaase, Luc. I can have you begging for it in just ten minutes. Give me a chance, please,” her voice whined and her other hand roamed.

The bitch was too much. “I’m. Not. Interested.” He spun her around and crossed his arms over her chest, his only option, but a big mistake. Now his groin was taking the abuse, and much as he was becoming disgusted with himself, he was aware that only a dead man would be able to remain unaffected by her antics. He was stronger than her, though. He should be able to end this some how.

“Uh, excuse me. Do you know where I might find Luc Larue?”

Luc stilled. But Mercy was good on the fly. She jerked a hand free and then it was in his hair. “Luc, honey. I know you want me bad, but a ten-minute break just isn’t enough time to do a girl justice. Let me go freshen up and we’ll take this up after the shoot.”

Luc released her wrist and all five-nine of lusciousness slithered away. Like a snake in Regency clothing.

Delilah Burke stood in the hallway in her cop uniform staring first at the woman flouncing away and humming. Then she turned narrowed eyes on him.

“Well. That was certainly…”

“Shocking?” Luc asked, resigned.

“Entertaining,” she said.

“Embarrassing,” he said.

She raised one eyebrow. “I’m not embarrassed.”

I
t was
a good thing Del had decided to pop in at the studio to assuage that niggling sense that something wasn’t as it seemed. The sense she’d had since encountering Luc Larue in the convenience store the day before. Oh, he’d seemed like a great guy. Who wanted her to take part in a good cause. Making her think he was some kind of standup citizen and hero type. Yeah, it was a good thing, because her cop instincts had been right. He was some kind of actor slash Lothario who couldn’t seem to keep his hands off a woman for even ten minutes if what she’d overheard was true.

She’d passed a bustling village of people. That was how it seemed when she’d peeked into some of the rooms and seen a superhero standing next to a knight, and a young fairy princess who held on to a lamb, a real lamb. There was what looked like farmers, an FBI agent, a redhead dressed in an elaborate regency gown, her hair piled high on her head. A Robin Hood likeness had directed her to Larue’s dressing room as a mass of seamstresses descended on the room and everyone began stripping.

Del had turned on her heel and headed in the direction Robin Hood had pointed and come up short at the sight in front of her. Not realizing at first that the man with his arms wrapped tightly around the buxom dyed blonde, was Larue, she’d listened as the woman had purred, wiggled her butt against him suggestively and tried to talk him
out
of “doing it” on their break. Hmm.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Larue said, walking toward her palms out in earnest.

Her eyes widened. She didn’t know how she’d missed it, but now his attire was in full view. The man was dressed in a kilt with a sword at his hip. And, oh man, she’d just thought his body looked taut in a t-shirt. Wait, forget that line of thought. He’d been about to get it on with a woman in a hallway, those strong biceps wrapping her up, his tented kilt showing his statement for a lie.

“What do you think it looked like? It’s none of my business actually. I just came to return this to you.” Del held out his fake knife. And she
had
planned to accept his invitation to Saturday’s event, but much as she wanted to be unaffected by the little scenario she’d just witnessed, she found she was disappointed. Very disappointed. She was usually a much better judge of character.

“What—you won’t even hear me out? Is that what cops do? Just take things at face value—or investigate? Go ahead. Ask me anything about what you just saw. I’ll tell you the truth.” His open frustrated expression gave her pause. He reminded her of someone, but who?

Del thought about it. He was right. She wasn’t usually one who rushed to judgment. Yesterday, she’d taken him for a perp and now…
of course, if he’d been straight with her then about his job
, “I thought you were in security.”

He rolled his eyes then closed them briefly, as if he’d known that was going to come back to bite him. “No, I just sorta let you come to that conclusion on your own. I never said I was, and I’ve
done
some private security work.”

“When you’re not playing dress-up and having sex in hallways,” she countered.

“I was not—”

“You seemed to be…” she aimed a stare in the direction of
little Luc
, “enjoying the encounter.
She
certainly seemed to be enjoying your advances.”

His face flushed and his jaw clenched, “
Her
advances. Only a dead man could remain unaffected by that… sexual predator’s tactics. If you hadn’t arrived I don’t know what I would have done. I have to work with her on this shoot, but after today, it’s over.”

He turned, paced. “All she has to do is cry ‘Wolf’ and who gets blamed? Even you fell for it.” He ran his hand through the ebony locks.

Okay, back up, Del. “What happened?”

He raised one big hand to his neck, and shook his head. “Look, I’m a big boy. I can handle it. I’ll just go to the boss, and I won’t have to work with her again.”

Del believed him. His frustration was just too real. And if there was one thing she was good at, it was sniffing out lies. Luc was shooting straight, she’d bet her badge on it. When she’d realized it was he standing there in the hallway and had experienced that sense of disappointment, it was because he’d impressed her as…dependable.

“So, what do you do? Jed will be disappointed to find out you’re not a stunt double.” She eyed him from foot to head. “You aren’t are you? I mean…”

“No. I’m a… cover model.” This was said not with embarrassment but a bit hesitantly.

“Pardon me?” Del grinned. “Like on those romance covers with the hot, um…”

Now Luc grinned. “Yeah. Like that.” To make his point, he made a motion with his hands holding them out to let her take in his wardrobe. “Like the look?”

She rolled her eyes.

He stepped closer so she could see the concern in the viridian depths. “I’m really glad you showed up. I was running out of options.”

“What was your next move?” She smiled.

He didn’t.

“I really don’t know.”

L
uc didn’t know
why it mattered so much that this woman believed him, but it did. “Look, I know things looked bad when you walked in, but I hope you haven’t changed your mind about coming Saturday.”

“How do you know I even considered it?” The effort he put into not smiling said it all. “Tony.”

He shrugged. “So you were planning to come?”

She shook her head, and he thought he might still convince her. “I’ll make it worth your while. How about dinner, at La Maison?”

“With you?”

“Well, yeah. I like good food as well as the next guy. Oh, you mean, oh, I didn’t think—if you have a boyfriend…geez, I’m stumbling around like an idiot here. Help.”

She laughed. “Okay. But you have to wear what you’re wearing now to dinner.”

“Hell. No.”

“Okay…”

“Wait, you’re kidding, right?”

She gave him a long cop stare, cool, assessing, then, bent over laughing. “Kidding. Though I do like the look. Maybe another time.”

Relief ran through Luc’s limbs like the release of tension after a successful night raid. He hadn’t realized how badly he’d wanted Delilah to… well, how bad he wanted
her
.

“I better get back to work,” Delilah said.

“Me, too. But first I need to go have a talk with Mercy. I’m going to give her one chance to back off before I take it to Buffy.”

“Well, if it becomes a problem, the law can help,” Del said. “Sexual harassment is an issue I’ve been trained to deal with. Don’t think you’re the lone ranger in this situation. Polite men of a certain—appeal shall we say—are often targeted by women who take advantage of the man’s unwillingness to force them to back off, then turn the tables and accuse them of assault or worse. Usually the problem is worse for the man, because the assumption is he had the strength and power, and historically… well, you get my drift. Call me if she doesn’t get the point after your boss talks to her.”

That wasn’t encouraging. She assumed Mercy would ignore his demands, but he didn’t want to involve Del in the thing with Mercy. “Sure. I’ll see you Saturday. 11:30 at LTF.”

“I’ll be there,” Del said and strolled off almost as if she had a baton twirling in her hand. She was so…cop. And he was just standing here with a goofy look on his face.

When he turned back around, Mercy was watching him from the door of his dressing room. She seriously creeped him out.

“Hey, hot shot. I just came to tell you the director wants us back at the set.”

“Fine. But this time keep your hands to yourself.” As if he’d been speaking into an 80 mph wind, she reached over and ran her index finger down his chest, until his hand captured hers.

“We’ll see how long you can hold out,” she said as she stalked away, like a cat.

A man-eating one.