Marshall's Law

by Denise A. Agnew

  Instead he assessed her. She couldn’t decide whether to enjoy the judgment of his eyes or cringe under the accusation she saw there. “I don’t think I’d realized what real love is…not with Eva. Not with Helen. I married Helen under false pretenses believing I’d found someone I could love. When she proved false and shallow I pulled back what affection I’d given her. So, yeah. I made it worse by not confronting my feelings and not being honest with Helen, by not working on the problem up front. Even if I had been upfront, I don’t think our marriage would have lasted with love.”

  Realizing that Marshall did believe in love sent a spiral of heat straight through her body. Pleasure expanded inside her. She didn’t understand her reaction entirely, but let it blossom anyway.

  “How long were you married?” she asked softly.

  “Five years. We’ve been divorced three years. She left for Montana with her cowboy lover.”

  A sharp knife of pain wedged deep into her heart. “What?”

  He straightened, his stance once more open. “The final chapter’s a pretty scary one. Sure you want to hear it?”

  Dana stood and retreated to the bar. “I always did like a good rip snortin’ ending. Reading or writing it.”

  One corner of his mouth managed a smile. “You going to write a book about my horrific love life?”

  Dana shrugged as she reached under the counter to grab a small box of tea. She needed something to warm her chilled soul. “Tea?”

  “Please.”

  As she boiled water in the microwave, his gaze followed her movements. He stood and came to the bar, leaning on it and staring at the grains in the wood.

  The microwave pinged after two minutes, and she retrieved the mugs. “That’s not the end of the story, I take it.”

  “Not by a long shot. The final straw came when she started an affair with a rodeo circuit guy. He came through town a few times a year, and that explained her sudden interest in rodeo on TV or when a rodeo was held in town.”

  Dana allowed two bags of tea to steep in large mugs. As she dunked the bags up and down she asked, “She was watching for lover boy?”

  “Yep.”

  “Shit.”

  “You can say that again. She took up with this guy and before long they were going at it on weekends. Sneaking around, looking for reasons to see each other. When I came home one day and she was deep in conversation with him, she didn’t realize she had the speaker phone on in the living room. She hadn’t heard me come home.”

  Wondering if her heart could feel any more offended for this man, Dana came around the side of the bar and handed him a mug. “You got an earful, I take it?”

  “Yeah. I confronted her.” Following Dana, he went back to the fireplace and settled down. “She denied it, but I’d heard and seen enough. I filed divorce papers the next day.”

  Dana wondered if he had really healed. She’d heard of many men and women that never found a true love. She’d often thought she fell into that category. Now, with this man, she felt the beginnings and stirrings of longing become deeper. It trapped her, filled her, and stretched her beliefs.

  Awkwardness seemed to rule the moment as a hush closed over the room again.

  Marshall took a deep breath and let it out. “Dana, I’ve…I’ve got some apologizing to do.”

  She saw a strange wariness in his eyes, as she might haul off and slug him for what he might say or what he would say. When he waited, caution written all over his face, she pressed onward. “About what?”

  Clasping his hands between his knees and propping his elbows on his legs, he gave her what amounted to a nervous expression. “Thanks for your concern earlier today. When you… I saw tears in your eyes. Thanks for caring.”

  Her mouth opened but she couldn’t think how to reply. He’d gone from grizzly bear to teddy bear. Trying to predict which one he’d become in any given moment could make a woman batty. Then, because she had lost her mind along the way, she reached up and touched the side of his face near the bandage. Her fingers met silky hair and warm skin. She snatched her hand back.

  “Does it hurt much?” she asked, her voice sounding raspy.

  A small grin met his mouth. “Nah. Barely even know it’s there.” His big shoulders made a shrug and a twist. “I’m going to ache tomorrow.”

  “The stakeout could have waited until you felt better.”

  His glance strayed to the area near the bed. “No, this couldn’t wait. Saying I was sorry couldn’t wait. Maybe catching the jerk that is doing this couldn’t wait.”

  Marshall’s confession, his softening, sent her insides into double turmoil.

  Despite the heat from the fire, she shivered. “For a little while I forgot about that. I forgot to be nervous about who or what is out there.”

  A look of guilt flickered over his face. “There’s more.”

  She smacked her forehead. “Marshall, if you don’t stop hitting me with these lovely surprises—”

  “This one’s not so lovely, Dana.”

  Before Dana could ask what he meant, Marshall launched into an explanation.

  “Skeeter’s been taken off the watch. Sheriff Pizer says we can’t afford to have Skeeter on permanent assignment to watch over you.”

  She frowned. “Oh.” She shrugged. “There’s still Logan.”

  Swallowing hard, he shifted his gaze from his hands back to her face. “Logan isn’t enough. As it was, I hoped the three of us could cover all bases. Now we’re down to two.”

  It took several seconds for her to make sense of his cryptic undertone. “You mean…wait you mean you were assigned officially to watch over me?”

  He shook his head. “Skeeter was the only official one. Logan did this because he was coming to Macon anyway and he’s a good friend.”

  The answer dawned. “You watched over me because you wanted to, not because you were assigned.”

  “Exactly. Before you were run off the road I kept a surveillance going at the house.”

  She nodded, recalling when he’d turned up at the front door on the night she’d seen a prowler in the woods.

  He continued. “When that bastard ran Bertha into a tree, I knew something worse than little malicious mischief was going on. When I couldn’t be around I felt…I knew Logan and Skeeter were top notch at what they do. But that didn’t satisfy me. Pizer called me into his office and told me we couldn’t have Skeeter protecting you that many hours a day. So I told him my solution.”

  “Solution?”

  “I told him I’d take vacation. I’ll protect you on my own time. Twenty-four seven.”

  Again she became speechless, scared witless by what he’d said. What his attention might mean.

  When he stood she felt bereft at the same time she experienced relief. He made them another cup of tea, and as the microwave hummed she took a good look at this man that had rocked her world. He was tough. Unyielding. Stubborn. Critical. Strong. Opinionated.

  Heart-stopping, breath-stealing, amazing.

  Tender, giving and passionate.

  She decided their conversation about Eva, Helen and her own current problems had ended too quick and simple. There had to be more lying deep beneath the brooding, smoldering exterior of this big lug. More to understand about why he wanted to protect her. More to understand why she wasn’t royally upset with the prospect of having this man near day and night.

  She stood again, restless. “Why did you assign yourself to me? You could have left Logan on the case and gone about your business.”

  Instead of bringing her the fresh mug of tea, he came around the bar, all the time pinning her with a penetrating stare. When he stood within less than a foot of her, his heat enveloped her like the fire from the hearth. It burned her in a way physical conflagration never could. She trembled under it, feared it and wanted it.

  “Because I don’t want Logan this close to you.” His liquid voice, filled with a velvet and silk combination, almost unraveled her control. “He’s a good man and a great
friend, but I don’t want him distracted. And believe me, you’re distracting.”

  She decided to be flattered by what he’d said instead of hacked off. “Why? You’re not thinking I—” She stopped dead, then restarted as she realized what his statement might tell her. “You think he’s interested in me romantically?”

  He tilted his head the slightest bit. “Or maybe you’re interested in him.”

  He sounded, dare she think it…jealous. Nah. It simply couldn’t be.

  “Rest assured, Marshall, I may think he’s a great looking guy, but unlike Eva or Helen I don’t chase men around like a bitch in heat.”

  Her blunt words didn’t appear to make a dent in his armor. He didn’t wince or flinch or show any outward sign of belief or skepticism. Instead he returned to the bar, dunking the bags of tea like she had not long ago.

  Did he imagine she could be cut from the same hair shirt as Eva and Helen? She wanted to growl and howl at the injustice. Instead she knew that she hadn’t reached his complete trust. She sensed he wouldn’t talk about his horror filled romances any more that evening. No coercion would do the trick.

  She cringed at the thought of enticement. Images of nubile women with beautiful blonde hair and stunning smiles made Dana want to run, run now before she found herself lacking. Became entangled once again in another dead end relationship like the one she’d had with Frank.

  Gazing at the man who’d made her twenty types of mad in one day, she wondered how many women in Macon had looked on him and found their temperatures hitting triple digits? Had they wanted to feel his arms around them, his lips taking, giving, exploring—

  He’ll never be that way with me. He’ll never need me that way. Damn Eva and Helen to purgatory for ruining this man for anyone else. And damn me for giving a rat’s hind end.

  Words shot off her tongue before she could think. “Why did you grow that beard and mustache?”

  That’s it, Dana. Find something mundane and harmless to talk about, but try not to make the question so stupid next time.

  Marshall’s eyes darkened like a late summer storm. His denim shirt was open a couple of buttons at the neck, the tail not tucked into the waistband of his jeans. She recalled the first day she’d met him and the time he’d pulled off his wet shirt. Then she’d seen the clear definition of hard pectorals covered with a sprinkle of dark hair. A swatch of hair had covered his flat stomach. Her gaze had hitched on that hard, flat stomach that was muscled but not the six-pack she’d seen on many men who exercised at the gym.

  Combined with a relaxed pose, he looked exposed down to the last nerve. He seethed with a mysterious, powerful secrecy that made her ache to understand him. Something deep and primitive ached inside her, and she knew this man was to blame.

  No one man should be allowed to have that much testosterone.

  When his stone cool expression changed to wicked, teeth-exposing grin, Dana’s heart came to a complete stop. Marshall crossed his arms and the rolled up sleeves revealed sculpted forearms and a portion of hard biceps.

  Finally he said, “Covers up my ugly puss.”

  Lord, I almost forgot the original question.

  A predatory gleam entered his gaze as he reached for his mug and took a generous swallow.

  A wash of emotion flooded her. Something totally knee-buckling had happened again. Had been occurring for days. Every time she thought she had a grip on his modus operandi, this man changed directions.

  “You excel at this, don’t you?” She couldn’t resist asking. A force deep inside would not let go. “Keeping people close, then turning them away gives you a power trip. You want complete and total control of the situation.”

  Lines in his broad forehead creased a little more. Was that a smidgen of regret, a paltry bow to anxiety entering his expression?

  “You really think I’m a big, dumb, hard ass, don’t you?” he asked, the timbre in his voice lowering.

  A sensation, almost a hot flash, coasted over her body and left a trail of fire in its wake. “Well, aren’t you?”

  His grin came back, and she wondered if he realized the chameleon effect kept her tottering on the edge of screaming surrender. Surrender, however, to what? She knew his potent force lay in wait, ready to take her on a journey she could never return from. Once within Brennan Marshall’s sphere you were never the same.

  He slowly marched toward her. Her heart jumped and startled flutters flipped in her stomach.

  Apparently he planned to answer her, but he couldn’t be planning…what on earth was he doing?

  His feet tread silent, but she could see the rise and fall of that magnificent chest. Dana refused to look away, and when he came to a stop in front of her, one corner of his mouth turned up. “I’m sorry.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “You were right. I haven’t been too hospitable since you came into town. And I wasn’t friendly at the game today. Forgive me?”

  Those last two words issued as a low rumble. Her body responded to his pure masculinity. Her common sense told her to resist his appeal. Marshall’s gaze, overlaid with an intense alertness, compounded his magnetism.

  His attention made her so hot she could have melted like chocolate. For a startling second she imagined the taste of his lips…a combination of that sweet concoction and whiskey.

  No!

  “Well?” He lifted his right hand and gently pushed hair away from her forehead. Under the soft brush of his fingers along her cheek, Dana shivered with panicky delight. “I always tell the truth, Dana. Even when it hurts.”

  His fingers left her skin. She swallowed again, trying to form words and finding it difficult. “How convenient. How can I tell that you’re not lying about that?”

  “When did you think I lied to you?”

  “All the time.”

  Astonishment, or something remarkably similar, widened his eyes. “Then you haven’t learned much about me in the last hour.”

  Dana shook her head, and as he took a last step closer, she trembled. “No, I haven’t. You’ve got the wall up high. There’s no way to get in. You’re as tough as…as…”

  “Dried cow shit on a hot summer’s day?”

  Despite her anger, she almost laughed. A small smile slipped out. “Exactly.”

  This time his hands cupped her shoulders and the heavy heat ignited her. Right then and there, as his fingers caressed, she realized she’d never experienced a more unforgiving wave of desire in her life. Dana felt caught in a bizarre chemical that brought her to a boiling point.

  Marshall’s grin faded, replaced by a haunting tenderness she couldn’t have imagined on his face seconds before.

  “Do you really want to know me?” he asked softly.

  While logic screamed in the negative, the rampaging need inside couldn’t deny him. Before she could blink his lips hovered over hers. Before Dana could reply, his mouth descended.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dana’s mind scrambled for clarity and found none. This infuriating, sexy man would kiss her any second—

  A moan, husky and deep with passion filled the room. Dana knew it hadn’t come from her, and it hadn’t issued from Marshall either. He stepped back like electrical wires had prodded him in the backside.

  He glanced around and cursed. “What the—”

  The sound returned, whispery soft this time. Less masculine. It rose and fell like gentle wind. A woman in the throes of some bone-melting passion. Another groan entered Dana’s ears, this one a counterpoint to the feathery utterance.

  “Oh my God.” Dana looked at Marshall as if he’d sprouted seven arms and fourteen legs. “It’s the bed.”

  She rushed toward the area, but Marshall snared her with his left arm, drawing Dana back against his body. She sucked in a breath as his powerful arm held her tight against his warmth. Instinctively she gripped his forearm. Silky hair brushed her fingers, and muscles flexed under her touch. God, the man is like concrete…his muscles are so solid…

  �
��Wait,” he said softly.

  Despite her resolve to remain unmoved by his touch, the strength of him holding her and the feel of his body made her shudder with untamed excitement. Heat flared low in her belly. She’d never leave this basement without his potent brand of sexuality burning her to a crisp.

  “But I’ve got to turn on the tape recorder,” she said, sounding breathless.

  Maintain, Dana, or he’s going to think you’re losing oxygen over him and not the idea of getting the weird moans and groans on tape.

  Marshall nestled his mouth close to her ear and she shivered as his breath caressed her sensitive skin. “Wait.”

  She couldn’t have moved if an earthquake had rattled the room. Each fiber within her strummed to a sinuous beat as sounds filtered through in a continuous pattern, reaching from the far corner of the room. Nerve endings tingled. She felt heat rise in her skin as awareness of the man standing behind her blended with the wild noises near the bed.

  She expected to feel angry that he held her back. Yet when his right hand clasped her upper arm, her body and mind betrayed her. His arm loosened a fraction, and her breath rushed out. But when his right hand landed on her right hip, she sucked air again. Didn’t he know what his touch did to her? Or did he intend to tantalize her, mangle her self-control, and make her ache with deep longing? Heat swirled low in her stomach and she wanted to tilt her head back and feel the support of his shoulder. Her clasp on his forearm never faltered.

  “Ohhhhh…” the high, frantic female sound came from the bed, and Dana’s eyes widened.

  “There’s no one there,” Dana whispered.

  “Might be a recording.” Again his hot breath tickled her neck and ear.

  She shivered, unable to hold back the reaction. “Yeah, but we’ll never find out unless we investigate.” She tried for humor. “Sheriff’s officers do investigate, don’t they?”

  His fingers spread, cupping her hip even more. “Yeah.”

  She knew she couldn’t take being this close to him much longer. She squirmed in his hold.