Smooth-Talking Texan

by Candace Camp

  “Yeah. And I felt that I ought to give something to all those other people who hadn’t had the same advantages I did. Law seemed to be the way to do that, and once I got started in it, I loved it. I realized it was exactly what I wanted to do with my life.”

  “So how come you didn’t take Spanish in college?”

  “I’d already gotten advanced placement in German. That’s what I took in high school. So I signed up for the second year of German my freshman year. I didn’t need another language. I thought about taking Spanish anyway, but…” She cast him a sideways glance. “I was always too embarrassed.”

  Quinn chuckled, and she frowned at him.

  “You be quiet. It was embarrassing. I knew everybody would look at me and think I was taking it for an easy credit. Or if I didn’t know things, then they would think I was stupid. And I didn’t really consider how important it would turn out to be. After I interned at the P.D.’s office in Dallas, I realized I ought to learn it, but I was too busy in law school to take on a language course, too. I’d do it now, except there’s no place to take it here. Not even a community college.” She looked embarrassed again. “I got one of those computer language courses, actually, but it didn’t do the trick. I think maybe after my year’s up here, I’ll go back to Austin and take an intensive course, one of those things they teach to company executives and diplomats, where they have to learn the language in two weeks or a month.”

  “When your year’s up?” Quinn pounced on her words. “You mean you aren’t planning to stay here?”

  “In Hammond? Are you serious? No. I’m not planning to stay. I have a commitment to the THL for a year, and then I’m heading back to the city.”

  “Now why would you want to go and leave us? Are you telling me that you don’t like it here?”

  “Well…I guess I’m just a city girl.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Movies, for one thing. Restaurants. Specialty stores. Things to do, things to see.”

  “Yeah, and traffic,” Quinn countered. “Crime. Pollution. Lots of hurrying and scurrying. So many people around you, you can hardly breathe. Besides, there’s lots of things to do and see here.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Lisa cocked an eyebrow at him.

  “Yeah. You just haven’t seen them. Somebody ought to introduce you to the joys of country life. I’d be happy to offer myself as a guide.”

  Lisa chuckled. “I don’t really think I need one.”

  “Sure you do. See, the things to do in the country are more subtle, not so obvious.”

  “Like watching grass grow?”

  “If you want, that can be fun, too. But I was thinking more like watching the sunset or maybe lying in the back of a pickup with a cooler full of beers and watching the stars.”

  “Doesn’t sound very exciting.”

  He grinned at her, his red-brown eyes lighting in a devilish way. “Well, now, darlin’, that depends on who you’re with.”

  Lisa rolled her eyes. “I might have known you’d say that. But I was thinking about, I don’t know, something a little livelier.”

  “There’s dancing here in Hammond. And there are restaurants. That one you were eating at last night is as good as any I ever went to in San Antonio.”

  “It was good,” Lisa agreed. “I was impressed. But I like a little variety.”

  “There’s always the Dairy Queen.” He grinned. “Okay, you do only have a few choices of restaurants between here and Angel Eye. But if you’re really hankering for something else, San Antonio’s not that far away. You can always go in for a spree at the mall or a movie and dinner.”

  “It seems to me like it would be easier to live there.”

  “I left Angel Eye when I was eighteen. I wanted to see something a lot bigger and fancier, too. I lived in Austin for three years and San Antonio for eight. But I came back here.”

  “But it’s your home,” Lisa pointed out. “You probably have family here and friends.”

  “Yeah. That’s the whole point of a small town.”

  “But, see, I don’t. My family and friends are back in Dallas.”

  “You’ve got a friend here now.”

  His tone was serious, unlike his usual bantering, and Lisa looked up, surprised, and found herself gazing into his eyes, warm and compelling, pulling her toward him. He touched the back of her hand where it lay on the table between them, moving with a feather’s lightness over her hand and down onto her wrist. A shiver ran through Lisa. Friendship, she thought, was not at all what she was feeling.

  And the thing was, she realized, she liked what she was feeling. It was a new experience for her—the sizzle of excitement at Quinn’s touch, the frisson of anticipation, mingling with a hint of danger, the unaccustomed sense of standing on the edge of something unknown. Her relationships with men in the past had tended to be warm rather than exciting, taking second place to school, her work, her goals. She had always been sensible. With Quinn she felt anything but sensible.

  He smiled at her as if he knew why she had withdrawn and said only, “How about another drink?”

  As it turned out, the second drink led to a prolonged dinner, finished up with coffee, and all the time they talked, gliding from one topic to another. In the past Lisa had sometimes had difficulty carrying on conversations with strangers, but with Quinn it was amazingly easy. He was pleasant to talk to, a surprisingly good listener, and he was able to converse on a wide variety of topics. And if the conversation ever lagged, he had a ready supply of stories, ranging from his days as a cop in San Antonio to his large and interesting family, with which to entertain her. Underlying all their talk, like a vibrant bass line, was the thrum of sexual attraction between them, adding spice to every word, every gesture, every smile.

  It was over two hours later that they returned to her office, where her car was parked. Quinn walked with her to her car, insisting that he should follow her home, despite her laughing assurance that she was safe in Hammond.

  “Don’t you remember what you said about the lack of crime here?” Lisa asked, opening her car door and turning to face him.

  “Ah, but a gentleman always walks a lady to her door,” he replied. “How else would I get invited in for a cup of coffee?” He stood close, one hand on the roof of her car, the other hooked over her car door, hemming her in.

  “We just had a cup of coffee,” Lisa pointed out a little breathlessly.

  “Well, then, maybe we can just smooch on your couch.”

  Lisa’s eyes went involuntarily to his smooth, firm mouth. She thought about his kiss. Perhaps she ought to kiss him again, she thought, just to find out if that explosion of desire had been real and not just something that her mind had blown all out of proportion.

  He cupped her chin in his hand, his thumb tracing the shape of her mouth. The touch of his rough skin against her lips made her tremble. She gazed into his eyes, and it felt as if she were falling into their depths.

  “I don’t…” she managed to murmur, and then his mouth was on hers, and all thought left her.

  The heat and the magic were still there, blazing up like a wildfire as soon as his lips found hers. Her hands went up his chest and around his neck, holding on as desire rocked her to the core. She clung to him, the hard plane of his chest pressing against her soft breasts, her nipples hardening in response. Deep within her abdomen, heat blossomed, spreading out and consuming her as his mouth consumed hers.

  One of his arms went around her waist, lifting her up and into him, the other went across the top of the open car door, shielding her back from the bite of the metal frame as he backed her up against it. A desperate sort of hunger seized Lisa, and she let out a little moan, her lips moving fervently against his. She wanted him, she ached for him, as she had never ached for any other man. She was all fire and hunger, molten and wild, taken over by an animalism that would shock her later when she recalled it. She wanted to be naked against Quinn, to feel his hands on her body. She wanted to wrap her legs around him a
nd take him deep inside her, experiencing the full force of his strength and passion.

  He tore his mouth from hers, kissing his way down the line of her throat. Her head fell back, and she shuddered out his name on a long breath. “Quinn…”

  His hands ran down her body, slow and caressing, curving over her hips and back up. His lips returned to hers as though he could not get enough. Lisa twined her fingers through his hair, fingertips digging into his scalp as another shock of pleasure coursed through her.

  If they had been at home, safe within the walls of her apartment, she was not sure what would have happened. She felt at that moment as though she had no will, no desire but to have him. But as it happened, a car turned onto the street a block down, its headlights falling on them in the dark, and she was brought back to the reality of where and what they were.

  She pulled her head away, saying, “Wait. No…Quinn…”

  She put her hands against his chest and pushed. He moved back reluctantly. His chest was heaving, his eyes glittering in the dark.

  “What?” Quinn’s voice came out a hoarse croak. “What’s the matter?”

  “A car.”

  There was a hoot from the car as it drove past slowly, and a rowdy voice called, “Hey, Deputy, you need some help?”

  Quinn turned, grimacing. A young man was hanging out of the car, grinning back at them, and Quinn offered a good-natured wave of his hand. Lisa let out a moan and sank down onto the seat of her car, turned sideways.

  “God, I hope that was no one I knew.”

  “They couldn’t see you,” Quinn reassured her. “All they saw was me, and they didn’t know me—they thought I was a deputy.”

  He squatted down beside the car to be on a level with her. He took one of her hands in his, lacing his fingers through hers. He raised her hand to his lips. “Let me follow you home.”

  “No,” Lisa replied decisively, pulling her hand from his grasp. “This was a mistake. A big mistake. I shouldn’t have gone out for drinks with you, even. I should have known it would lead to this.”

  “Is this so terrible?”

  “Of course it is. I was standing there making out with you on a public street. What if one of my clients had come by? Or some lawyer who knows us? I—we—well, it’s wrong.”

  “Why? What’s so wrong about it? I mean, I can see you don’t want to be embarrassed by being caught like this, but…”

  “You know why. I told you before. We are on opposite sides.”

  “What sides? You got your client out of jail. There isn’t any case for there to be sides of.”

  “Yes, but there could be. What if you do find out something else about this thing you’re working on and you arrest Benny, and I have to act as his attorney? I’ve been appointed defense counsel on several criminal cases since I’ve been in Hammond. What if I’m trying a case, and you turn up as a witness for the prosecution? And even if we never come into actual conflict on a case, in general, it just doesn’t look good for a defense attorney to be chummy with the sheriff!”

  “Is that what we were being? Chummy?” His eyes twinkled at her.

  “Don’t laugh at me. I’m serious.”

  “I’m sorry. I just naturally smile when I look at you. I like looking at you.”

  “Okay. You are a charmer, I’ll admit that. You are doubtless devastating to all the females of this county. And surprisingly enough, I enjoyed your company tonight.”

  “Thanks—I think.”

  “If things were different, I would probably—but they aren’t.” She stopped and looked at him, setting her chin in a stubborn way. She realized that she sounded flustered and even ditzy, and it irritated her. She was supposed to be a cool, calm professional.

  “You’re tough. You know that?” he commented and rose with a sigh. “Tell you what, I’ll follow you home, but I won’t come in. I just want to make sure you get home safe. Call me old-fashioned. As for the rest of it…well, let’s give it some time. Okay?”

  Time? Time for what? But even as she thought the words, she knew what he intended—time for him to persuade her to do what he wanted. Quinn Sutton was not the kind of man who gave up easily. She supposed that she ought to argue with him about it, convince him that she had no intention of going to bed with him in the future either. But he was already moving away, going back to the sheriff’s car, leaving her with little choice but to swing her legs into her own car, close the door, and drive away.

  It was pointless to argue with him, anyway, she told herself as she drove to her apartment building and parked, then walked to her door. She turned as she went inside and saw his tan patrol car drive off.

  Quinn, she knew, would just keep coming up with reasons why she was wrong. But she was certain that it would be disastrous to mix her personal life with her professional one, particularly when she was talking about someone she would always be at odds with. The only thing for her to do was to be strong-willed—not see him, not go out with him if he asked, not take his phone calls. She had to show him that she meant what she said. After a while, even Quinn would give up. There were all too many women out there who would be ecstatic to have Quinn Sutton turn his attention to them.

  Lisa suppressed a twinge of irritation at that thought. She had no right to be jealous about Quinn Sutton. She was not going to date the man. She wasn’t even going to see him again if she could help it. And that was that.

  It took four days for Lisa to break her own rules.

  She had not realized that it would be so difficult for her to be disciplined about the matter. She had thought that he might call her or drop by again, that it might be hard to avoid him long enough to get past the way she was feeling. But the fact of the matter was that she could not stop thinking about Quinn Sutton. She remembered their passion, their conversation, the way he looked. At all sorts of odd moments of the day, whenever her mind drifted away from whatever task was in front of her, Quinn would take over her thoughts. He didn’t have to do a thing; her own mind and body had taken on the job.

  She ploughed through the weekend, spending all of Saturday in San Antonio going to a movie and wandering through a mall, all the while plagued by thoughts of Quinn. She was drawn to a dress in the window of a store, simply made but devastatingly attractive and of a vivid blue color that she thought went particularly well with her pale olive complexion. She went inside and tried it on, all the while imagining what Quinn’s face would register when he saw her in it.

  Not that he would. She knew that. But she had bought the dress anyway, unable to resist it once she saw herself in the mirror. She would find an occasion to wear it, she told herself, even though it would not involve Quinn. It would be just as pretty.

  Then she had driven home and thought depressing thoughts about the fact that she was in her apartment and settled for the night at ten o’clock on a Saturday evening.

  Sunday was worse because she had nothing to do except putter around the apartment all day, attending to various beauty routines such as a masque and a manicure that she had been putting off for far too long. Unoccupied, her thoughts zeroed in on the sheriff. Would there really be that much harm in dating him? Before Benny, every one of her criminal cases had involved the Hammond Police Department, not the sheriff’s office. The sheriff’s office took care of the law enforcement for the much smaller population of the rest of the county, primarily Angel Eye, and most of their work was in the nature of traffic violations. Even if by chance someone in the sheriff’s office was called in to testify on a case that she was involved in, it would in all probability be one of Quinn’s deputies, not the sheriff himself. A sheriff generally did not spend much of his time doing ordinary patrolling. So the odds of her being in conflict with him on a case were small, really. And if one did arise, she knew, she could always withdraw from the case.

  It wasn’t as if the fact that she was dating the sheriff would influence her or what she did at work. Quinn was right; things were different in a little town; one was much more likely to
mingle socially with people one faced in court, whether judges, police officers, or prosecuting attorneys. As long as she remained professional and kept a firm line between work and her personal life…

  Lisa grimaced, exasperated at her own thoughts. Even if it were true that she could date the sheriff and continue with her criminal work without a conflict of interest, it was still foolish to do so. After all, she would be leaving here in ten months, as soon as her year was up, and it would be pointless to get involved with anyone before that happened. It would lead to nothing but unhappiness.

  Besides, unhappiness was what lay in store for anyone who got involved with Quinn Sutton, she pointed out to herself. The man was charming, obviously far too skilled at captivating the opposite sex. Men like that were dangerously attractive, but incapable of any deep relationship with a woman. Her secretary had as much as said that about him. He was a womanizer, a ladies’ man, the kind who enjoyed the hunt but never made a commitment. Clearly, dating him would only lead to heartache.

  She realized the inconsistency of her arguments—she couldn’t date him because she wouldn’t be here long, but she couldn’t date him because he would want only a short-term relationship—and that only irritated her more. By the time she went to sleep that night, she was thoroughly exasperated with herself.

  The next afternoon, as she sat at her desk, she remembered that she had wanted to look up the deed to a property which one of her clients rented. She had thought about it early last week, then had put it aside as her workload had increased. She did not need the information any time soon, of course.

  Still, she thought now, she would have to do it sometime. It might as well be today as a few days from now or next week. It would require a trip to the county courthouse, of course, where the records were kept, but…oh, who was she kidding? She knew she did not have to look at the records today. She was looking for an excuse to go to the county courthouse and perhaps run into Quinn.

  Lisa leaned back in her chair and sighed, running her hands back into her hair and tugging at it until her scalp hurt. Why did she keep thinking about the man? She knew that she was acting like a schoolgirl, trying to manufacture excuses to “accidentally” see the sheriff again.