by Linda Turner
"I think we need to get something straight right now, Whitaker," she said with a coolness she was darn proud of.
"I've married and buried a husband. I'm not looking for a man."
His hands settled on the door on either side of her shoulders, allowing him to trap her in front of him without so much as laying a finger on her. In the deep shadows of the porch, untouched by the floodlights, he was as serious as she.
"Good," he growled.
"Because I'm not looking for a relationship, either. Once was enough."
So he'd been involved with someone in the past, someone who had burned him badly enough that he didn't want to repeat the experience. Becca didn't know why she was so surprised—the man was in his mid-thirties, and you could look at that wonderful, rugged face of his and see that he hadn't lived in a vacuum. But in a small town like Lordsburg, where gossip was as free as the wind that blew off the desert, she'd never heard so much as a whisper about his love life.
Stifling her curiosity, she let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. He was going to be reasonable about this.
"Then we finally agree on something. Will wonders never cease?"
He nodded curtly.
"Just so we understand each other." And with no more warning than that, he snatched her away from the door and into his arms, taking her mouth the way he'd been aching to from the moment he'd first laid eyes on her.
He'd lain awake nights wondering what she would taste like, feel like in his arms, his bed. And it was a hell of a thing, wondering. It took control of a man's thoughts and drove him crazy, until he found himself acting like a green kid who wouldn't know what to do with a woman if he had one. And he didn't like it, damn it!
So it had to end. Now. He was going to kiss her till her knees melted and he got his fill of her. Until he ended the mystery that was Becca Prescott and the fascination she held for him.
It was that simple. Maybe then he'd be able to sleep nights.
Nothing, he quickly discovered, was that simple when it came to the woman in his arms. From the second his mouth swooped down to hers, she wasn't what he'd expected. She was always so sassy with him, so sure of herself, that he'd have sworn she'd either jerk out of his arms with a stinging rebuke or return the kiss with a passion that seemed to be as much a part of her as her dancing green eyes.
But she did neither. The minute his arms closed around her, she went as still as a deer caught in the scope of hunter's rifle, her mouth parting in a gasp of surprise, her lips trembling with a hesitancy that nearly cut him off at the knees. And against his chest, he could feel the sudden rush of her thudding heart.
In the blink of an eye, the heat she stirred in him was ten times hotter, the ache he'd attributed to lust changing to something far more dangerous. Something that resembled the lost innocence he'd never expected to feel again; something that called to him in the night and whispered of softness and trust and sweetness of spirit. Something that was impossible to walk away from.
Murmuring her name, he dragged her closer, and could no more stop himself from deepening the kiss than he could have stopped the rising of the moon. Too long, he thought with a groan, his mind clouding as her tongue shyly greeted his. It had been too long since he'd held a woman, too long since he'd lost himself in the touch and feel and taste of one. And even then, it hadn't felt anything like this. One taste of Becca Prescott's intoxicating mouth, and he knew the lady could take him apart and put him back together again.
The thought cut through the desire clouding his brain as nothing else could. Jerking back suddenly, he stared down at her as if he'd never seen her before. Dammit, who was this woman who'd walked into his life and turned it upside down? As stunned as he, she gazed up at him with wide, dazed eyes, her lips still parted from his kiss, her breath revealingly uneven in the tense silence. And it was all he could do not to reach for her again.
Biting back an oath, he took a quick step away from her while he still could.
"Next time you go chasing after Clara in the middle of the night," he growled, "throw some clothes on first. You shouldn't be walking around like that."
Thoroughly rattled, Beeca sank back against the solid wood of the front door. Her knees boneless, her heart thundering, she watched Riley walk away with the long, quick, agitated strides of a man who should have been someplace—anyplace—else ten minutes ago.
Hugging herself, she desperately tried to shrug off the entire incident as just a kiss. But if what she and Riley had just shared was nothing more than a kiss, then Niagara was just another waterfall. Suddenly struggling with hysterical laughter, she pressed her hand to her mouth, but she might as well have tried to hold back a flood with a couple of sandbags.
Dear God, what had she done? She'd kissed him, really kissed him, and she still didn't know what had possessed her.
She hadn't been lying when she'd told him she didn't want a man.
There'd been a time when she'd thought the sun rose and set in Tom Prescott's shoes, but because of his unreasonable possessiveness, that love hadn't survived their marriage. He hadn't trusted her out of his sight, and even though she'd fought against the restraints he'd tried to put on her, once he got sick, she'd found herself giving in just to keep the peace. And in the process, she'd lost part of her soul.
Never again, she'd promised herself. Never again would she let a man and her love for him control her. She had her daughter, her' home, and answered to no one. That was all she needed—she'd make sure of it.
Given the chance, she would have gone five miles out of the way to avoid Riley after that, but the competition at the high school gym was scheduled for the following evening. And although she spent most of the rest of that night and all the next day racking her brain for a graceful way to back out, there simply was none. If she expected to have even a staidgert of a chance of winning the election, she had to go and do what she'd promised to do-prove herself to Riley Whitaker and everyone in Hidalgo County who had doubts about her. "
But how, dear Lord, was she supposed to face the man without remembering the feel of his arms around her and the heat of his mouth on hers? she wondered wildly as she dressed for the event in a short-sleeved cotton blouse, jeans and tennis shoes. Just thinking about it made her breath hitch and her heart do crazy flip-flops in her breast.
And her face. God, She had a face that registered her every thought, eyes that reflected her volatile emotions like a mirror. The second he looked at her, he'd know she'd thought of nothing but him since he'd kissed her. How was she supposed to touch him, handcuff him, after that?
"You look funny, Mom," Chloe said suddenly from the bedroom doorway.
"Are you sick?"
Hearing the horror in her daughter's voice, Becca laughed. Chloe was so excited about her competition with Riley that she'd hardly talked of anything else for days. She'd never understand if Becca had to back out.
"No, sweetheart, I'm fine. Just a little nervous. Have you got your overnight bag packed?"
Chloe nodded and held up the Garfield duffel bag she'd packed for a sleep-over at her friend Karen's house after the competition. Her eyes wide, she confided, "Karen's dad said you might be on TV."
Since the nearest television station that might be interested in the election was in Santa Fe, Becca couldn't see that happening.
"I'm sure Mr. Jacobs means well, honey, but I doubt that Channel 5 is going to send a crew all the way out here. In fact, I'll be lucky if a hundred people are there tonight, but that's okay. I can use all the votes I can get."
Her hair braided in a long plait down her back, she checked her appearance in the mirror one more time, then squared her shoulders and flashed her daughter a grin.
"If somebody does show up with a camera, at least I won't look like a wild woman with my hair dancing all over my head. C'mon, let's go."
With Chloe at her side in the Jeep, Becca headed for town, telling herself she was ready for anything. But nothing could have prepared her for the
cars that filled the parking lot at the high school and spilled out onto the surrounding streets. It looked like everyone in the county was there.
"There's Margaret's car," Chloe exclaimed.
"And Mr. Jacobs's. And... wow! Look, More!" Straining against her seat belt, she pointed to a van with the call letters of a Santa Fe television station painted on the side.
"Mr. Jacobs was right. You are going to be on TV!"
"It certainly looks that way," Becca agreed, stunned. Running late because of the unexpected traffic jam around the school, she finally parked in a loading zone next to Riley's patrol car, then hurried toward the gym with Chloe's hand firmly tucked in hers. People who had not yet found seats inside greeted her like an old friend, making her feel not only as if she were welcome, but as if she belonged.
With excitement skittering along her nerve endings, she stepped into the gym, only to stop short, a surprised grin spreading across her mouth. She'd thought she'd known what to expect, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight of the rowdy crowd that packed the old building to the rafters. Like opposing schools at a championship basketball game, they'd divided the gym down the middle, with the women taking possession of the stands on the right, the men on the left.
Becca's first instinct was to laugh, but there really was nothing funny about what was going on here. She hadn't challenged Riley because she was trying to make a statement. She just wanted a job; it was that simple.
But somehow, without her quite knowing how it had happened, she'd become the champion of women's rights in a part of the country where male chauvinism was alive and well.
The women of Hidalgo County were looking to her to make some changes in the status quo, and she couldn't let them down.
Someone spotted her then and the cheers began. And the boos.
Becca chuckled, not the least offended. Like her or not, at least most of the voters now knew who she was. Turning to Chloe, who was starting to look apprehensive, she leaned down to give her a big hug.
"Don't worry about the booing, honey. Remember, this is all just in fun. Nobody's mad. "
"Will they be when you win?"
Becca chuckled, hugging her again.
"I don't know. We'll have to wait and find out. Now, why don't you go sit with Karen and her mom and I'll see you later? I saw them in the front row right where we came in, and it looks like this shindig's about to get started."
The crowd, too, had sensed the beginning of the evening's competition.
Excited whispers rose in volume at the exact moment Becca spied Riley, already in the middle circle of the basketball court. He wore his uniform, but had removed his boots and stood in his stockinged feet near several gym mats that someone had laid out earlier.
Flanked by a number of local ranchers, who were slapping him on the back, he had apparently seen her the moment she stepped into the gym.
You wanted a fight, lady. You got one. It's time to put up or shut up.
He didn't say a word, only nodded to her in greeting, but the message came across loud and clear, not only to her, but to everyone in the gym. This was going to be a fight, all right. No holds barred.
For just a second, doubt clutched at Becca's stomach, irritating her no end. Now was not the time to let the man see how easily he could rattle her cage. Forcing a cheeky grin, she was rewarded with his quick scowl. So he thought he could beat her, did he? she thought, chuckling as she started toward him. When toads flew. Okay, so the odds were against her. That didn't mean she was beaten before she'd even stepped on the mat. All she had to do was catch the darn man by surprise.
At her approach, he turned and raised his hands to quiet the crowd.
"Ladies and gentleman, if I could have your attention, please," he began, glancing past her to the bleachers as she reached the edge of the mat.
"I'm sure you all know why we're here ...."
With the handcuffs she'd brought ready and waiting in her pocket, Becca didn't wait to hear more. He half turned away from her to address the crowd in the opposite bleachers, and she knew this was the only chance she was likely to get. Moving swiftly, she grabbed his left arm and jerked it behind his back, snapping the cuffs into place before he could do anything but stiffen in surprise. A split second later, she had the other arm dragged into position and cuffed. The entire procedure had taken less than ten seconds flat.
"What the hell!" Riley snarled, whirling to face her as pandemonium broke out in the stands.
"You want to tell me what the devil you think you're doing?"
"Yeow, doggie, boy!" Margaret yelled from the stands, as every woman in the gym jumped to her feet to cheer wildly.
"She's got you hog-tied, just like she said she would."
"Only because she caught me off guard," he retorted over the loud cheering of the women.
"A criminal wouldn't make the mistake of turning his back on her."
"Yeah," one of the men yelled from the bleachers.
"Take the cuffs off and try it again. Let's see how good you are, Mrs. Prescott, when your man's ready for you."
It was an out-and-out dare, one that the rest of the men quickly seconded. Riley, more than willing to shamelessly use his friends grumblings to his advantage, shot her a tight grin.
"Yeah, Mrs. Prescott," he taunted in a soft voice that didn't carry past her ears.
"Take the cuffs off. This time I guarantee I'll be ready for you."
She wouldn't stand a chance and they both knew it. But what other choice did she have?
"All right," she finally agreed, loudly enough for both him and his supporters to hear.
"But just for the record, a good law-enforcement officer takes her breaks where she can get them." Moving behind him, the thunder of her heart picking up speed, she unlocked the cuffs, then sprang back before he could even think about reaching for her.
But Riley had no intention of playing the' game that way. He wanted her to anticipate this, to know that no matter what she did, there was no way she was going to win. His eyes gleaming at the thought, he motioned for her to take a position opposite him on the gymnastic mat.
Hushed silence fell over the crowd.
"You're going down, lady," Riley promised with a grim smile as they circled each other like wrestlers looking for a weakness.
"So just get ready."
"Oh, yeah?" she teased, hoping to distract "That's pretty big talk from a man who just got his butt whipped by a shrimp of a woman in front of half the county. Maybe you should get one of your deputies to…
As far as digs went, it was a good "One. Riley should have been furious. Instead, he found himself wanting to laugh. Damn her, how was he supposed to concentrate when he was constantly fighting a grin?
"Don't worry, sweetheart. I can handle you just fine all by myself.
Watch out. Here I come. "
It was the only warning she got. He lunged toward her, feinted to her left, then quick as lightning hooked his right foot behind hers. Gasping, she started to fall and threw her arms around his neck.
"Son of a..." Caught off guard, his arms suddenly full of Becca's womanly curves, Riley felt the ground shift under his feet as he took her weight, but it happened so fast, there was nothing he could do to save either me of them.
Swearing, he crashed to the mat like a fallen log, managing at the last second to throw himself to tie side so that he wouldn't crush Becca like a grape. With grunt of discomfort, he landed hard on his side with her still in his arms.
Laughter erupted around them, but all Riley head was Becca's startled gasp and the sudden roar of his blood in his ears as his eyes dropped to hers. With her legs tangled with his, her arms still tight around his neck and every sweet inch of her molded to him, all he could think about was kissing her. Again.
He now knew what she tasted like, would go to his grave remembering the way she'd melted all over him last night like a man's worst fantasy.
Twenty-four hours later, he was still burning.
&nbs
p; 'He never remembered movin-', but suddenly he was on his feet and leaning down to help her up. Over his outstretched hand, turbulent green eyes locked with blue, and a blind man could have seen she was as shaken as hell. But she didn't hesitate to accept his help, not when a thousand people were watching their every move.
It was a mistake, touching her again. He knew it the second his fingers closed around hers. Heat swept through him, scorching him from the inside out. Needing some air, he dropped her hand as soon as she was on her fee .
"Well, I don't know about you, ladies and gentlemen," he told the crowd gruffly, "but I think we're going to have to call this a draw." That, of course, didn't go over well with half the crowd. Raising his hand, he stopped the boos with a charming grin.
"Come on, guys, gimme a break. I'm in a no-win situation here. I can't hurt the lady just to prove a point. And she did manage to get the cuffs on me. So that makes tonight's competition a draw. We've still got two more to go."
"Well, hell, Riley," Wade Sellars drawled in disgust.
"Why do you want to put yourself through the hassle of all that? You've already proven you're more physically fit. It looks to me like you win, hands down. "
"You just stop right there, Wade Sellars," his wife, Amanda, ordered sternly from across the gym. Usually a meek woman, she planted her fists on her thin hips and stared at her husband in growing indignation.
"All the sheriff proved is that he's bigger than Becca. Well, surprise, surprise. Tell us something we don't know. She'll hold her own in the cross-country run—you just wait." Flushed at being scolded in public, Wade scowled right back at her.
"Hell, Mandy, she's a woman. There's no way she can outrun him and you know it."
"Are you saying a woman can't beat a man in a foot-race?"