Gansett Island Boxed Set, Books 1-16

by Force, Marie

  Tiffany fought him with everything she had, throwing him off balance.

  He came down hard and landed on top of her. Their bodies would’ve been perfectly aligned for lovemaking had she not raised her knee in defense at the last minute, catching him once again right where he lived.

  All the air left his body in one long gasp of pain. “Jesus Christ, son of a bitch,” he muttered, his face gone pale and chalky.

  “Sorry,” she muttered weakly. Had a plan ever gone so totally wrong?

  Moaning, he lay next to her for several minutes, and for a brief instant, Tiffany thought she’d hurt him to the point where he might actually be willing to talk to her.

  Then he rallied, rose to his knees and then to his feet. The murderous look in his one working eye had Tiffany shrinking back from him, despite their joined arms.

  “Let’s go,” he snarled.

  A knock on the door saved her from being paraded on Ocean Road in the nude.

  Jim reached for it with his free hand, but she jerked him back. “Let me at least put some clothes on first!”

  “In your dreams,” he growled, throwing open the door.

  “Chief Blaine Taylor, Gansett Police. You called about a B&E? I was in the area when the call came through.”

  “That’s right.” Jim stepped aside to admit the officer.

  Oh, no, she thought. Not him. Anyone but him! Tiffany closed her legs and struggled to cover all the important parts with the arm that wasn’t attached to Jim. Her full breasts spilled over the top of her forearm, giving Blaine a view of her nipples. She gasped and shifted to cover them. As always, he was totally hot in his dark brown uniform pants and crisp white shirt. His sun-streaked hair was mussed from a long day of work and his brown eyes were locked on her breasts.

  After taking a good, long look, he cleared his throat, diverted his gaze away from her and focused on the cuffs. “Um, listen, folks, I don’t know what’s going on here, but if you’re having some sort of personal problem …”

  “It is a personal problem! My ex-wife—”

  “I’m not your ex yet!”

  “She broke in here when I was sleeping, cuffed herself to me and attacked me!” Jim gestured to his face. “Look what she did to my eye!”

  Placing his hands on lean hips, Blaine leaned in. “Ouch.”

  “Want to see the teeth marks on my dick?”

  Blaine winced. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.” Glancing at Tiffany on the floor, Blaine said, “Is this true? Did you break in here and attack him?”

  “I didn’t intend to attack him,” she said in a meek tone, painfully aware of the picture she must be making sitting naked on the floor, handcuffed to her irate husband. “I just wanted to talk to him. Every time I try to talk to him, he leaves.” Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away. It was bad enough that she was sitting naked on the floor while her soon-to-be ex-husband berated her in front of a guy she’d secretly lusted after for months. She wouldn’t give Jim the satisfaction of seeing her cry, too.

  “So you figured if you locked yourself to me, I’d have no choice but to listen to your lies?”

  “They’re not lies! Why do you say such awful things about your own wife? I’ve never been anything but faithful and devoted to you!”

  “How’d you get in, ma’am?” Blaine asked, his handsome face tight with irritation. Nothing in his rigid stance gave away that they knew each other. She supposed he had no choice but to keep things professional in light of what she’d done.

  “The door was unlocked. He never locks it.”

  “I will from now on,” Jim snapped.

  “The Mercedes outside,” the chief said, “with the four flat tires—”

  “You did not,” Jim hissed through clenched teeth.

  “I didn’t want you to leave before we had a chance to talk.”

  “I want her arrested.”

  “For what?” Tiffany cried. “Wanting to talk to my own husband?”

  Without looking at her, Jim said, “Breaking and entering, assault, vandalism.” Raising his handcuffed arm, he added, “Kidnapping.”

  Blaine reached for a ring of keys on his belt, unlocked the cuffs and handed them to Tiffany.

  Jim made a big show out of rubbing his wrist. “I need medical attention. I can’t see a goddamned thing out of my eye, and she crushed my balls—twice.”

  Blaine didn’t even try to hide his disdain for Jim as he keyed the microphone on his shoulder and called for paramedics. “Mrs. Sturgil, why don’t you put some clothes on? I’m afraid I have to take you in.”

  Gasping, Tiffany looked up at him. “You’re not serious.”

  Blaine glanced at Jim, whose face was set in a hard and unyielding expression.

  What did I ever see in that face?

  “Get dressed, ma’am.”

  With her arm still clutched to her chest, she said, “Look away, will you please?”

  Hours later, Tiffany sat in the island’s only jail cell, a place she’d managed to avoid during her entire wild-child youth, with only the handcuffs to keep her company. The bruises on her wrist and the burning skin on her rear end reminded her of how badly her last-ditch plan to win back Jim had failed. This time, it was really over.

  For a minute, she indulged in a fantasy about sexy Blaine Taylor and the heated look he’d given her when he entered the apartment to find her naked on the floor. In the instant before he remembered his official duties, he’d been nothing more than a man—a man who wanted her. She had no doubt about that, and for some reason, the knowledge comforted her.

  Passing the cuffs back and forth between her hands, Tiffany thought about the girl she’d been before she married Jim at age nineteen. Full of ambition and dreams and lists of things she wanted to accomplish by twenty-five, thirty, thirty-five, she’d had her life all mapped out.

  Somewhere along the way, she’d allowed his goals and plans to become hers. “Huh. Well, that wasn’t too smart now, was it?” Other than the dance studio, which fed one of her passions, and the day-care center that served a practical purpose after she’d had Ashleigh, she’d fulfilled none of those many goals she’d once had.

  What did she need? What did Tiffany want? Thinking back to those lists, one thing came to mind, the one thing that had topped every list she’d ever made—the desire to have her own store. Not just any old store, but a specialty shop for women. Lingerie, lotions, candles, massage oils, maybe even some sex toys … A nervous tingle rippled through her when she thought about her plans for such a business in the heart of conservative Gansett Island.

  And imagining Jim’s reaction when he realized the owner of the island’s new sexy lingerie shop was the wife he’d discarded? Well, that gave her the giggles.

  Blaine stood outside the jail cell and watched Tiffany talk to herself. Why a woman who looked like her had to stoop to cuffing herself to a guy to get his attention was beyond him.

  She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, exposing the long, elegant column of her neck. Her vulnerability tugged at him. Nothing about her was fragile, yet she seemed so alone that Blaine couldn’t help wanting to help her. However, he’d promised his friends and family that he was done with “projects”—women who needed protecting, bailing out or just downright fixing. This one had trouble written all over her, and he’d already had more than his share.

  If only he could get the vision of her naked and sprawled on the floor out of his mind. If only he hadn’t caught a glimpse of raspberry nipples on the most spectacular breasts he’d ever beheld—and he’d spent a lot of time in the last few months dreaming about what Tiffany Sturgil’s breasts might look like. Reality had far exceeded his fantasies. Forgetting what he’d seen in that apartment wouldn’t happen overnight.

  Steeling himself to deal with her, he unlocked the cell door.

  Her head whipped up, and her green eyes connected with his.

  Blaine felt the impact from the top of his head to the bottom of his size-thirteen feet. The
surge below his belt caught him off guard. Clearing his throat and attempting to rid his mind of naked Tiffany pictures, he stepped into the cell.

  She tensed, and right away Blaine’s heart went out to her.

  You can’t save the world one woman at a time, he heard his mother saying. Enough is enough, Blaine.

  “Do I have to spend the night?” she asked in a tiny voice.

  “No.”

  Her sigh of relief echoed through the small cell. “I’ve been here a long time.”

  “I was at the clinic, speaking to your husband.”

  “Ex-husband.”

  Blaine was ridiculously proud to realize she’d moved on at some point in the last few hours. Using his best stern cop voice, he continued. “I managed to talk him out of pursuing the B&E, assault and kidnapping charges, all of which are felonies.”

  Tiffany swallowed hard. “Thank you.”

  “You do have to make restitution on the tires, and he’s demanding a restraining order, requiring you stay at least five hundred feet from him except for when you’re dropping off or picking up your daughter.”

  “Bastard,” she whispered. “That rat bastard.” Her big eyes shone with tears.

  Damn it. If there was one thing Blaine couldn’t handle, it was a woman’s tears. Without giving himself time to think about the implications, he sat next to her on the narrow bunk. “Mind if I ask you something?”

  She swiped at a tear as if it was pissing her off. “Sure.”

  “What’s a nice girl like you doing with a tool like him?”

  The snort of laughter seemed to take her by surprise. “Gee, Chief, don’t hold back.”

  Pleased that he’d succeeded in turning her tears to laughter, he shrugged. “It’s an honest question and one I’ve had for a while now.”

  “I have no idea,” she said without an ounce of guile. “At first I thought he was cute, sexy …” She glanced at him. “You know?”

  “I’ll have to take your word for it. He doesn’t do it for me.”

  When she laughed again, a coil of desire heated Blaine from within, making him wish he’d taken off his jacket. “He doesn’t do it for me anymore, either.” Gathering a thick handful of hair, she twisted it into a knot that exposed the exquisite stretch of neck again.

  Blaine wanted to drag his tongue from the shallow hollow of her collarbone all the way to her delicate earlobe. He could only imagine how sweet she’d taste. Shifting to relieve the growing pressure in his lap, he forced himself to pay attention to what she was saying and not what she was doing.

  Once again, she turned those green eyes on him, and something stirred deep inside, in the place he’d vowed to never go again.

  “You really think I’m a nice girl after what I did tonight?”

  Touched that his opinion mattered to her and mesmerized by the movement of her full, lush mouth, Blaine chose his words carefully, not wanting to give her the wrong impression. “I think you did what you felt you had to.”

  “It was stupid.”

  “Maybe.”

  “More than anything, I hate that he thinks I’m so desperate to get him back that I’d resort to what I did tonight.”

  “You didn’t consider that in the planning for this mission?”

  “I really thought it would work,” she said, defeat radiating from her. “I did it more for Ashleigh than me. I wanted her to grow up in a normal family, you know?”

  Blaine resisted the urge to put his arm around her and offer his shoulder to lean on. No more projects, Blaine. Clutching his hands together, he tried to process his overwhelming reaction to her. It’s because you saw her naked, he rationalized.

  Then how do you explain the way you’ve obsessed about her for months? She’d been on his mind from the second her sister first introduced them when he’d gone to the clinic to see Big Mac McCarthy after the accident at the marina.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, jarring him out of his thoughts.

  With his face hot, his skin itchy, his cock hard enough to pound nails, Blaine stood up, hoping if he moved away from her and her bewitching scent, he could get himself under control. Leaning against the cell door, he watched eyes full of curiosity travel the length of him, stopping at the halfway point and widening with surprise. “So what happened between you guys?”

  She tore her eyes off his crotch and met his gaze. “I wish I knew. When we moved back here after I helped him get through law school, it started to go bad.”

  “That’s not fair.”

  “Life’s not fair. After I waited forever for him to have time for me, he checks out of our marriage like I was never more than a meal ticket to him.”

  The defeated slump to her posture touched him. “Do you want to call your mom or your sister?”

  “God, no. I don’t want anyone to ever know about this.”

  He didn’t mention the police log or the Gansett Gazette reporter who checked it every day. Maybe he could “forget” to file a report on this one. “Let me give you a ride home.”

  “I can call a cab.”

  Let her. Walk away and say good-bye. As always, his brain and his mouth had a significant communication problem. One of these days, he had to do something about that. Before his brain could overrule his mouth, words that couldn’t be taken back were being spoken. “It’s no problem.”

  “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

  “Don’t forget your, um, cuffs.”

  “I’m not expecting to have much use for them.”

  “You never know.” Now where did that suggestive comment come from?

  Her face flushed to an appealing rosy shade. Realizing he’d embarrassed her, Blaine gestured for her to lead the way out. After she signed a few forms acknowledging her culpability in the vandalism and agreeing to make restitution, Blaine helped her into his police department SUV.

  Once inside the truck, he further recognized the error of his ways. Her scent, a combination of sexy spice, sweet woman and strawberries, filled the small space, reawakening his libido. What was it about this woman? Blaine could hardly concentrate on driving when his cock throbbed painfully in the tight confines of his uniform pants.

  “Do you know where you’re going?” she asked, startling him.

  Shifting in an effort to find some relief, he glanced over at her. “Your address was on the report.” She didn’t need to know that he’d known where she lived for months.

  “Oh. Right.”

  Her voice, her scent, that hair—how he yearned to see that hair raining down on him as she rode him hard—her creamy white skin, those raspberry nipples, the memory of the dark strip of hair at the juncture of slender thighs … A groan escaped from between his clenched teeth.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, alarmed.

  “Nothing. Just a headache.” His head was aching all right, just not the one sitting on his neck.

  She shifted in her seat to take a closer look at him.

  Great.

  “Did you take something for it?”

  They hadn’t yet made the pill to cure what ailed him. “I will when I get home. After my shift.”

  “When is that?”

  “Midnight. I’m filling in for one of my officers who’s on vacation.”

  “The chief does that?”

  “There’re only six of us. We all cover for each other.”

  “You shouldn’t have to wait four more hours to take something for your headache. I’ll get you some pills when we get to my house.”

  “Thanks, but I can stop at the store and get some.” No way was he stepping foot inside her house. Nope. No way. Not happening.

  “After everything you’ve done for me, I insist.”

  Blaine wanted to groan again, but held it back this time. How about what he wanted to do to her? They arrived at her house a few minutes later.

  “Nice place.”

  “Thanks.” She stared at the house for a long time. “It’s been in Jim’s family forever. My mom and Maddie and I bo
unced from place to place all my life. This is the first real home I’ve ever had.”

  “Then you should fight for it.”

  “I have been, but I’m starting to wonder if it’s worth it. After tonight, I just want to be rid of him. If that means giving up the house, so be it. It’s hardly worth holding on to now anyway.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come see for yourself.” Before he could protest, she got out of the car.

  Tell her you can’t. Fabricate a call. Come up with something. Anything.

  Turning to see if he was following her, she shot him a questioning look that went straight to his already over-involved heart.

  With a deep sigh, he reached for the handle and opened the door. Following her inside, Blaine took in the empty living and dining rooms.

  “Come in,” she said, her voice echoing through the cavernous space. She led him into a modern kitchen with a gaping space in front of a bay window that might’ve once housed a table. The view of South Harbor during the day would be quite spectacular from that window.

  In the living room, a single easy chair sat in front of a small television propped on a cheap stand. Blaine wanted to go find Jim Sturgil and beat the living shit out of him for doing this to his wife. Project alert!

  “I …ah …really ought to be going.”

  “Let me get you the pills.” Going up on tiptoes, she reached for a shelf in one of the maple-colored kitchen cabinets.

  Blaine’s mouth went dry as he watched tight jeans hug her shapely ass.

  As she bustled around the kitchen getting him a tall glass of ice water to go with the medication, her full breasts swayed under a hot-pink T-shirt.

  When she handed him the glass, her fingers brushed against his, and once again he went hard as stone. Not since his teenage years had his big brain fought such an unsuccessful battle with his little brain. Downing pills he didn’t really need and the water in two big swallows, he placed the glass on the granite countertop.

  “I have to go.”

  “Okay.”

  Except neither of them moved. Instead, they stared hungrily at each other, the crackling tension threatening to consume him. Okay, it was official. He’d never wanted a woman more in his life. Operating on autopilot, he reached for her. Before he could process what he was doing or the potential implications, his tongue was plundering her mouth as his hands traveled from hips to breasts and then back down so he could lift her into his tight embrace.