Lori Foster - Bodyguard - Outrageous / Riley

“Say YES! to Lori Foster.”

—Elizabeth Lowell

“Lori Foster delivers the goods.”

—Publishers Weekly

“Known for her funny, sexy writing, Foster doesn’t hesitate to turn up the heat.”

—Booklist

“One of the best writers around of romantic novels with vibrant sensuality.”

—MyLifetime.com

“Foster outwrites most of her peers and has a great sense of the ridiculous.”

—Library Journal

“Foster proves herself as a bestselling author time and again.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

“Filled with Foster’s trademark wit, humor, and sensuality.”

—Booklist on Jamie

“Foster supplies good sex and great humor along the way in a thoroughly enjoyable romance reminiscent of Susan Elizabeth Phillips’ novels.”

—Booklist on Causing Havoc

“Foster executes with skill…convincing, heartfelt family drama.”

—Publishers Weekly on Causing Havoc

“Suspenseful, sexy, and humorous.”

—Booklist on Just a Hint—Clint

OUTRAGEOUS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

RILEY

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

SHE HAD THE BIGGEST BROWN EYES JUDD HAD ever seen.

She also looked innocent as hell, despite the ridiculous clothes she wore and the huge, frayed canvas tote bag she carried. Did she actually think she blended in, just because her coat was tattered and her hat was a little ratty? Did she think anyone would ever believe her to be homeless? Not likely.

So what was she doing here at this time of night? The lower east side of Springfield was no place for a lady like her. She strolled past him again, this time more slowly, and her eyes were so wide it looked as if they could take in her surroundings in a single glance. They took in Judd.

He felt a thrill of awareness, sharper than anything he’d ever felt before. She looked away, but not before he detected the faint pink blush that washed over her fine features. That blush had been obvious even in the dim evening light, with only the moon and corner street lamp for illumination. She had flawless skin.

Dammit. He had enough to worry about without some damn Miss Priss with manicured nails and salon-styled hair trying to fob herself off as a local. Judd had only stepped outside the bar to get a breath of fresh air. The smell of perfume inside was overwhelming, and enough to turn his stomach.

He could hear the music in the bar grow louder and knew the dancers were coming onstage. In less than ten minutes, he’d have to go back in there, baring himself in the line of duty.

Damn. He hated this cover. What decent, hardworking cop should have to peel off his clothes for a bunch of sex-starved, groping women? For nearly two weeks now he’d been entertaining the female masses with the sight of his body, hoping to uncover enough evidence to make a bust. He was now, at thirty-two, in his prime, more fit than ever and completely alone. Not only did he meet the necessary requirements to pull off such a ludicrous cover, he had a vested, very personal interest this time. He knew for a fact the room above the bar was the site for shady business meetings, yet he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of a gun deal. Clayton Donner was lying low.

It was discouraging, but he wasn’t giving up.

He was definitely going to get Donner, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed displaying himself nightly.

Each of the strippers had a gimmick. He thought his was rather ironic. He played out the tough street cop, complete with black pants held together with strategically placed Velcro. They came off with only the smallest tug. He even had Max’s original leather jacket—a prized possession, to be sure—to add to his authenticity. The women loved it.

He wondered if old Max had known how sexy the cop persona was to females. Or if he would have cared.

God, he couldn’t think about Max and still do his job, which was to appear unscrupulous enough that Donner would think him available. Clayton always needed new pigeons to run his scams. Judd intended to be the next. It was the only way he could get close enough to make a clean bust.

And the last thing he needed now was a distraction with big brown eyes. Despite his resolve, his gaze wandered back to the woman. She was loitering on the corner beneath the street lamp, holding that large, lumpy bag to her chest and trying to fit in. Judd snorted. That old coat was buttoned so high she was damn near strangling herself. What the hell was she doing here?

He’d just about convinced himself not to care, not to get involved, when three young men seemed to notice her. Judd watched as they approached her. She started to back away, then evidently changed her mind. She nodded a greeting, but it was a wimpy effort. Hell, the men looked determined to get to know her, without any encouragement on her part. She, on the other hand, looked ready to faint.

Walk away, he thought, willing the woman to move. But she stood her ground. He sensed, then he knew for certain, she was getting in over her head. His body was already tensing, his eyes narrowed, waiting for the trouble to start. They seemed to be talking, or, more to the point, she was trying to speak to them. She gestured with her hands, her expression earnest. Then one of the men grabbed her and she let loose a startled screech. In the next instant, those huge brown eyes of hers turned his way, demanding that he help her.

The little twit thought he was a regular street cop. At this rate she’d blow his cover.

Well, hell, he couldn’t allow her to be manhandled. He pushed himself away from the doorway and started forward. The men were obviously drunk. One of them was doing his best to pull her close, but she kept sidestepping him. Judd approached them all with a casual air.

“Here now, boys.” He kept his tone low and deep, deliberately commanding. “Why don’t you leave the lady alone.”

Judd could see her trembling, could see the paleness of her face in the yellow light of the street lamp. The man didn’t release her; if anything, he tightened his grip. “Go to hell.”

The words were slurred, and Judd wondered just how drunk they were. They might believe him to be a cop, but in this neighborhood, being a law enforcement officer carried very little clout and regularly drew vicious disdain. Damn.

He couldn’t get into a brawl—he might literally lose his pants. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy knocking some heads together, but still…. Where was a real uniformed cop when you needed one?

He turned his gaze on the woman. “Do you want their company?”

She swallowed, her throat working convulsively. “No.”

One of the men shook his fist in Judd’s face, stumbling drunkenly as he did so. “She’s already made a deal with us.” The man grinned stupidly at the woman, then added, “You can’t expect a little thing like her to run around here without a weapon to protect herself…”

One of the other men slugged the speaker. “Shut up, you fool.”

Judd went very still, scrutinizing the woman’s face. “Well?”