The Lawman

by Martha Shields

  But as she talked he could see Tabitha’s mole move, and his traitorous libido kicked in.

  He cursed loud enough for a passing nurse to jump sideways, and the last shred of his good mood vanished.

  The tight-as-a-stretched-wire sexual tension he’d experienced when he was with her earlier had eased while he had something more important to think about. He couldn’t say it had left completely. His good mood had been built on the pleasure she’d sent zinging through his veins. But the desire wasn’t so strong it bordered on painful.

  In fact, his good mood had increased when he realized that, because it meant he could control it. Or so he’d thought.

  All he had to do was see her and heat shot through him like fire across bone-dry grass.

  With another livid curse, he walked into the nursery, stopping several yards behind her.

  The nurse Tabitha was talking to saw him immediately and frowned, making Tabitha turn.

  “Jake!” Her smile vanished the instant she saw him, which irritated him even further. “I mean…Chief White.” She glanced at her watch. “Goodness, it’s been over an hour. I didn’t mean to be gone so—”

  “Miss Monroe, I need to speak with you privately.”

  She straightened at his clipped tone. “Of course. I was just—”

  He grabbed her elbow and started walking down the hall.

  She tried to pull free. When she couldn’t, she said under her breath, “You don’t have to manhandle me. I’m capable of walking on my own.”

  “I know. You walked out of your office quick enough.” Since he didn’t want to drag her up six flights, he punched the elevator call button.

  She yanked her arm again. This time he let her go.

  “I have responsibilities,” she said.

  “Moving gurneys is in your job description?”

  She yanked on the hem of her jacket to straighten what was already straight. For an instant, her ripe, full breasts were outlined clearly by the silk.

  Jake bit off another curse. For something to do, he pressed the call button again. What was wrong with him? He was acting like a randy teenager.

  “I’m not above moving gurneys, or whatever needs to be done,” she explained tightly. “Especially now, when everyone is so frightened. It’s important that they see I’m not afraid to work in the new wing. And on top of everything else that’s happened, it’s Saturday of Labor Day weekend. We’re shorthanded.”

  He glanced up at the floor indicator above the elevator door and muttered, “Where have I heard that before?”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” He punched the call button again.

  “Pushing the button twenty times doesn’t help, you know.”

  “It helps me,” he growled.

  She lifted a pale eyebrow. “What’s put you in such a foul mood?”

  He glared at her. “Take a wild guess.”

  “It’s not as if I left the building. I told the officers where I was going, and that’s exactly where you found me, isn’t it?”

  The elevator finally dinged and the doors slid open. He placed an arm over one door to prevent it from closing, then jerked his head toward the car. “Let’s go.”

  She stepped in, but not quickly enough to suit his mood, so he crowded her from behind.

  She spun to face him. “What the hell is wrong with you? Am I not allowed to leave my office until Hines calls?”

  He punched the button for the eighth floor. “With permission, maybe.”

  Two more people walked onto the elevator.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  He glared at her as the elevator doors slid closed. “Do you want to talk about this now or in your office?”

  A shadow of fear darkened her blue eyes for the briefest instant before she glanced away. Her jaw was rigid as she said, “You’re right.”

  One person got off on the fourth floor, the other on the seventh.

  When the elevator reached their destination, Jake indicated that she precede him. He took her elbow again as she did.

  She yanked it away. “Please. I’m not a child.”

  His eyes raked down her body. “Yeah. I noticed.”

  Comprehension flooded her face, and she sucked in a shallow breath.

  His gaze locked onto hers. What he saw did not help him cool off. Confusion. Hunger. Questions. But not a damn bit of revulsion, which would have relieved the situation because it would have killed his own desire.

  “Afternoon, Miss Monroe.” A hospital employee passed them, startling them both.

  Tabitha gave the man a halfhearted smile. “Good afternoon, Sid.”

  “Let’s go to your office.” Jake didn’t grab her elbow. Instead, he placed a hand on the small of her back.

  She didn’t pull away.

  Though only a few feet, the walk to her office seemed endless. When they reached the anteroom, only one technical officer was there, engrossed in wiring pulled from a wall.

  Jake closed her office door behind them.

  She turned with wide eyes. “That’s not a good idea.”

  “You want to talk about this with the door open?”

  Her gaze shifted to a point behind him. “Talk about what?”

  “Yeah, right.” He stepped close. Only inches from her body, he could feel its warmth. His nostrils filled with a sweet floral scent underlying the more powerful smell of woman. “We can’t ignore this. It’s too damn strong.”

  “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “The hell you don’t. You’re as hot for me as I am for you.”

  She shook her head. “No. I can’t be. This is highly inappropriate.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  She lifted her face. “Not to mention unprofessional.”

  “Extremely unprofessional.” He stared at the mole, just inches from his mouth.

  “I don’t like it.”

  “Me, neither. But it’s there, and it’s real, and it doesn’t seem to be going away.”

  “Surely there’s something we can do.”

  “I can think of lots of things, all of which you’d like—that I can promise—but none of which we can do with men right outside the door.”

  She backed up a step. “We can’t work together like this. Perhaps you should take yourself off the case.”

  He smiled tightly. “The only reason I haven’t, beside it being the only thing in the past year remotely interesting, is I know Burl wouldn’t let me. I’m the only man he’s got with any inkling of what to do. None of our men have worked in a hostage situation.”

  “Then what? Ignore it?”

  “How long do you think that would work? Hell, we’ve only known each other a few hours and we’re ready to rip each other’s clothes off.”

  She gasped. “I certainly—”

  “Don’t go getting all indignant. I’ve seen you checking out my butt.”

  She glared at him but didn’t deny it.

  Encouraged, he took a step closer. “I can think of only one way to relieve the tension.”

  She regarded him suspiciously. “What? Sleep together?”

  “A kiss. That’s all. For now. Just a kiss.”

  She sucked in a tiny breath, and her gaze dropped to his lips.

  His heart shifted into overdrive.

  The tiny movement, so full of sexual curiosity, was all the permission he needed. Sliding his arms around her, he smothered her sudden “but” with his mouth.

  Two

  Tabitha’s father had pinned her against a wall for beatings too many times for her to feel comfortable in any but the briefest, most superficial of embraces.

  Jake’s arms didn’t cause panic, however. In fact, getting away was the furthest thing from her mind. Mostly because she was incapable of thought. Jake’s arms around her were a warm cocoon, far from threatening. One strong hand rested at her waist, the other splayed across her back, pressing her even closer to his hard, warm, male body.

  The pressure
of his lips on hers—insistent but not forceful—burned away any notion more rational than where to put her arms for optimum holding power. She didn’t want to end the kiss. She wanted to prolong it.

  At the same time her arms wrapped themselves around Jake’s neck, he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue around the edges of her lips.

  A spike of heat surged through Tabitha, causing a desperate need for air. She sucked in a quick breath, which caused her mouth to open.

  Jake seized the opportunity, slipping his tongue between her teeth.

  Warm and wet and strong, his tongue delved into her mouth, touching hers, then slipping around the inside of her teeth.

  Tabitha slid her tongue along the underside of his and felt his moan from her lips to her stomach…and lower. She smiled against his mouth.

  Jake drew back.

  “No!” Surprised and highly displeased, Tabitha locked her arms into place, holding him a few inches away, barely enough for her eyes to focus on his.

  She’d never seen green burn until now. Verdant flames leaped into her, making her blood boil and surge through her overworked heart to pool below, in the only other part in her body she was aware of. Not that her whole body wasn’t singingly aware of his touch, of his smell, of his need. But only two places commanded the limited attention she possessed—lips that throbbed with hypersensitivity, and the mound that pressed into hard, swollen flesh.

  “No, what?” he asked in a husky, rough voice.

  Aroused beyond anything she’d ever known, she whispered, “Why did you stop?”

  His eyes narrowed. “You smiled.”

  “I did?” She tried to think, but quickly gave up the effort. If she had smiled, that was too long ago to remember. “Sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  His eyes crinkled around the edges but didn’t lose their intensity. “Is that an invitation?”

  “Yes, damn it.” Driving the fingers of one hand into thick, soft hair, she pulled his lips back to hers. At first contact, she moaned.

  Growling, he slid the hand at her waist down to cup her bottom and slanted his mouth across hers.

  This time, however, Tabitha took the lead, edging her tongue into his mouth. He groaned, twining his tongue with hers in a dance so sensuous, so erotic, Tabitha lost track of which one was hers. Neither did she care.

  She had one thing on her mind. She wanted to melt inside this man so the pleasure could go on and on and—

  A thump from the next room jabbed into her consciousness. Into his, too, because they broke apart at the same time.

  They stared at each other, both of them taking in huge gulps of air, both amazed at the sheer power of the experience.

  Tabitha wiped the back of her hand slowly across her mouth. “Why did you do that?”

  His gaze followed the movement of her hand. “Oh, as if you weren’t having a good time.”

  “Why?”

  He straightened and made a visible effort to collect himself. “To prove a point.”

  “Which was…?”

  He drove both hands through his hair, erasing the trails her fingers had left behind. She could still feel it—soft and thick and silky.

  “Hell if I know.” His twisted grin came slowly.

  Muttering under her breath, Tabitha yanked down her jacket and retreated to the far corner of the room. It didn’t help her dignity that she walked on obviously wobbly legs. But at least she felt relatively safe at this distance.

  With her back to Jake, she stared into the tiny waterfall in the knowledge corner and mentally repeated the mantra she used when she wanted to calm herself.

  Jake let her go, though it wasn’t easy. All he wanted to do was lock the office door and pull her down onto the red couch against the wall.

  But he couldn’t. Kissing her the first time had been all kinds of stupid. If he touched her again, he was pretty damn sure he wouldn’t be able to stop.

  Dragging his eyes away from the firm, round bottom he could still feel in his hands, he shoved a hand through his hair again, this time yanking on it in frustration.

  What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never done anything like this before. Never even been tempted. One of the most important rules in hostage situations was to not get emotionally attached to anyone involved—perpetrators, victims…or hospital administrators.

  He needed to maintain distance, for that and several other very pertinent points, as well.

  He’d read the file on Tabitha Monroe. She was not the kind of woman who formed casual relationships. She was too visible in the community. Not only was she chief administrator of the hospital, she was also its chief fund-raiser. She mixed with the cream of Mission Creek society, had a membership at the Lone Star Country Club, attended parties at the finest houses in and around town. She had a certain reputation to maintain, which did not include hot affairs with cops.

  The problem was, the two of them were going to be working very closely in the next few days or weeks. Hell, he was going to be there every time she breathed. With the kinds of feelings he was having—and her, as well, if that kiss was any kind of indication—they could easily drift into a relationship that was personal rather than professional.

  And Jake didn’t do personal relationships. Not the kind this high-profile lady required. He simply wasn’t good at any but the most superficial relationships. The two years he’d spent married to Cynthia had taught him that lesson well. His job would always come first, and most women objected to coming in a distant second.

  But beyond that, even if he decided he did want something permanent, the chances of it lasting were practically nil. Case after case had proved that most relationships formed in crisis situations were doomed because they were built on adrenaline highs, rather than honest-to-God emotions.

  There was no way he could get into any kind of relationship with this beautiful, smart, sexy woman, no matter where her mole was.

  Tabitha’s deep breathing penetrated Jake’s thoughts, and he lifted his gaze to her silk-covered back. She stood in front of the tiny temple waterfall in the far corner, probably doing some kind of meditation.

  He wondered if it helped.

  Before he could stop himself, Jake moved around her desk and stood directly behind her. When he saw his hand lifting to her shoulder, he curled it into a fist instead.

  Why did he feel this overwhelming need to touch her? Was it because he felt bad to have caused her to need comfort? Or was it his sudden, irrational jealousy of the waterfall?

  He wanted to be the one to comfort her. But she wouldn’t be reassured by his touch.

  Then he remembered the kiss.

  Or would she?

  He shook his head. It didn’t matter All he could use were words. “Look, I’m sorry if I—”

  “Can’t you tell that I’m trying to meditate?”

  “I was just going to—”

  “Why don’t you check on your men or something?” She moved away from him, taking up a position right behind her desk. “Surely you have something you need to do. Go do it.”

  Jake smiled wryly. “Unfortunately, you’re what I need to do. Since we don’t have any information on the hostages’ whereabouts, you’re the focal point of the case.”

  She frowned at a jade dragon on the corner of her desk. “Because you think I’m the one he’ll call.”

  “Right.” Jake stared at the dragon, too. Was she doing something else to take her mind away from him?

  Forcing himself not to react, he let a tense moment go by.

  They couldn’t work like this. It was going to be hard enough just dealing with the hostage situation. They couldn’t cope with this, too.

  Maybe he should take himself off the case.

  He entertained the notion for all of two seconds.

  He couldn’t. If he backed out now, he’d be stuck in the south end of nowhere forever. Since he was the only man on the Mission Creek force qualified to head the team, Burl would have to let the FBI take over, and the Mission Creek
police chief would rather walk naked across the desert than let the FBI take over.

  And what reason could Jake give? That he’d fallen in lust with the main contact? Oh yeah, that kind of self-control would look good on his record. No, he had to keep his head together and his arms—and lips—to himself.

  “Look, Miss Monroe, we can’t—”

  She pounded her desk with a fist, making him flinch.

  She turned narrowed eyes on him. “You can’t shut up, can you?”

  “I just wanted to point out that what we did was—”

  “Stupid? Adolescent? Grossly unprofessional?”

  He lifted his chin. How about mind-numbingly erotic? “Right. We can’t let it happen again.”

  “Oh, it won’t, Chief White. You can bet your last bullet on that.” She turned to fully face him, her arms crossed over her stomach. “I’m not interested in doing anything with you, other than my job. Got that?”

  He heard what her lips were saying, but her eyes told a different story.

  “Not the slightest, tiniest bit interested. Nothing. Zip. Nada.”

  “I see.”

  “You’d better ‘see.’ You’re a cop, and I will never, ever—not in a hundred million years—become involved with anyone who wears a badge. If you try anything again like what you just did, I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?”

  She straightened her shoulders. “I’ll take drastic measures.”

  Her vague threat amused him and brought sudden, welcome relief. Not only was he a fully trained member of the SWAT team, not only had he achieved the highest level of expertise in several martial arts, he outweighed her by about sixty pounds. “What are you going to do? Make like the Karate Kid and crane me?”

  She went as rigid as an iceberg, and her voice just was as cold. “If you’ll please excuse me, Chief White, I have paperwork to take care of.”

  She sat down at her desk, drew a manila folder from her in box, opened it and began reading.

  He watched for a long, silent moment, wondering if she’d cut him out of her awareness as effectively as she seemed to. Every cell in his body was aware of her.