Finally, a sign appeared along the road. She squinted, sure she’d misread it. The worn paint flaked away from the yellowing white sign, but she couldn’t mistake the town’s name.
Paradise, she read with a slight grimace.
It figured. There were probably a thousand dead little towns in Texas, and she had to land in the one with that name.
Paradise Club. Its image rushed back to her mind, a memory she’d wished a million times she could erase. The night she’d met Kurt, and the months following, the naïve way she’d partied and played there with him. Under the glitter. The lies.
Oh, their days were spent at the pool, their evenings sipping martinis with friends, their nights chock-full of dancing and wild sex. They’d been like two peas in a pod.
Until she woke up, thank God.
Kirsten shook her head. Her purse had been full, but not her life. She knew now she’d never loved him. Idolized him, yes. Loved, not ever. Even the sex had gone cold after the first year.
How could she not have seen the signs? Kurt could never have made such money off of one club and a mediocre line of coffee shops. Worse, he’d shut her out of everything, dangling the profits in front of her like candy to a hungry kid. And she’d eaten it up.
She just hadn’t taken Kurt for the type.
Kirsten pressed down harder on the gas pedal as she flew into the small town. It all made so much sense now.
“Shit!” Panic snapped her attention back to the road. Out of nowhere, a dog jumped alongside her car.
Her heart leapt in her throat as she swerved. Panicked, she slammed the brakes too hard and the tires screeched as she fought to keep the sports car on the road. Terror seized her. Alarm and fright tensed her body. Instinctively, she grasped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white.
Snowball jumped up and leaned over the side to give the strange dog a piece of his mind. Kirsten imagined his growls and barks to be a thorough tongue-lashing. The annoying shepherd mix continued to chase her as he yapped his threats.
Livid, she held back the fire burning her tongue, said her prayers and straightened out her car. The idea of turning back tempted her to no end, but the irate notion fled as she spotted a gas station next to a diner.
A sigh of relief escaped Kirsten. “Thank God.”
She pulled over, parking her car in front of the lone gas pump. Out front, a wrinkled old man dozed in a rocking chair. His gnarled fingers wrapped around a rolled up newspaper, and every couple of seconds, he’d jump to swat away a fly.
Kirsten laughed to herself as she got out of the car and yanked the nozzle free. She grabbed a card out of her purse and swiped it. After several moments passed with no response, Kirsten’s panic grew. Then the screen blinked back. She’d been denied. Kurt, she grimaced. He’d cut off her credit cards.
Anxious, she sifted through her wallet in a search for some cash, fished out a twenty, and headed in to pay.
Looks like my instincts proved right, Reid thought as he replaced the radio on the dash. With a shake of his head, he refocused on the red Corvette parked at ole Henry’s pump. The little blonde had just sped into the wrong town.
He narrowed his eyes and rested his jaw in his hand, flicking stubbly growth against his fingers. The stranger drove the sports car like the typical spoiled rich girl, without an ounce of respect for the law—or other’s lives. Just the type he didn’t want in his town.
Three minutes ago, he’d have been content to write her out a hefty ticket and send her on her way. Yet, as he’d watched the look of anger, not fluster, cross her face when the pump denied her credit card, he’d known something had to be wrong. Women who owned Corvettes didn’t typically fly into his town wearing sweats and frantically searching for cash.
The nation-wide search on the tags had revealed the car as stolen, just as expected. What bewildered him was why the pinched car had been driven into a tiny town like Paradise.
Reid leaned back in his seat, keeping one eye on the Vette as he decided his approach. The aroma of tonight’s special, Edna’s slow-cooked roast beef, floated through the air. His empty stomach growled, so he lit a smoke to cover the mouth-watering smell of it.
Like a fool, he’d skipped lunch today, up to his elbows in drywall mud. Redoing his office and the single cell in the town jail had turned out to be quite the task. More mess than he ever expected, or wanted.
He’d just set aside the half-finished job for the day and been on his way to the diner, when she came squealing wheels into Paradise to interrupt his plans.
Reid didn’t like that. Not one bit.
Dinner would have to wait. Right now, he had a car thief on his hands. Under-construction jail cell or not, the law said he had to take her in. Reid started the engine of his Blazer and pulled into the station parking in front of the stolen car. He flashed his lights, leaving them on as he got out to walk around the vehicle, and inspect it as he waited for her return.
The radio had been left blaring. Annoyed, he reached in to flick off the noisy rock tunes, but the sight of the white dog curled under the front seat stopped him. Ice blue eyes followed his every movement with a cold glare.
“Howdy, boy.” Reid reached in his pocket and pulled out the jerky strips he liked to keep handy for snacks. He tore back the plastic wrappers of two and offered them to the dog. The fluff ball yapped and accepted the peace offering, choking it down in one gulp. The pup sniffed for more, then disappeared back to his spot on the floor. “Hot, ain’t it? You’re a smart one.”
Reid shut off the radio, leaned against the car, and waited. After several moments, the flaxen-haired beauty exited the store holding a twenty-ounce soda and a bottle of spring water.
Reid’s breath caught in his chest as he watched her. Her luscious curves swayed under the baby-blue cotton of her sweats, and bounced to the beat of her feet. A tight top that read “flirt” stretched across the deep curves of her chest, and nipples the size of quarters hardened against the pull of the fabric.
Her perky breasts jiggled up and down as she increased her brisk pace, her shake more and more tantalizing the closer she drew.
No way could she be wearing a bra. Not a chance. And the fabric of her shirt was entirely too thin.
The gall of some people, Reid gulped.
When his breathtaking perp rounded the pump and caught sight of him, she stopped dead in her tracks. For a moment she just stood there, a deer in the headlights look. Her huge jade eyes flew to the flashing red lights on his Blazer, then returned to him. Reid stared back at her heart shaped face with a hard glare.
“Can I help you?” Her sugary voice sounded smooth and calm, like syrup being poured over pancakes.
“Yes, ma’am. You most certainly can.” Reid told her in a flat voice. Her eyes widened, big, green and devastating as he approached her. “What brings you to Paradise?”
“Just passing through.”
“Where to?”
“That, sir, is absolutely none of your business.” Curtness laced her reply.
“I disagree. Sheriff Reid, ma’am.” He held out his hand and she shook it, but not without obvious reservation. “And since I’m about to place you under arrest, you might make it my business.”
“Arrest?” She took a step back as she squeaked the question. Ruby red lips, full and lush, hung open at the question. “You must be mistaken.”
Man, she played the innocent act well. Hell, she probably thought she could get away with murder with only a flash of those wide emerald eyes.
Reid had to admit: the little blonde tempted him. He hadn’t felt such interest in a woman in years, not since Lisa left. Not even the porn channel or Suzy May had managed to awaken his cock since his ex-wife’s cold betrayal. And every bachelor in town had fallen for Suzy’s wanton ways.
But he had to uphold the law.
“Not at all. Now, we can talk here or at the station. Your choice.”
“Look, Sheriff. I’m only passing through.”
Reid
raised his eyebrows in question but was met with silence and a cold look.
“To?”
“Bay Crest, Alabama. Home to live with my folks.” Her hard voice softened a notch, then she looked at him as if for understanding. “So if you’ll just let me be on my way, I can get back to a simpler life—a normal life. You can appreciate that, of course.”
Reid nodded. “So you’re coming from the city then?” She took a wide step back, and he matched her movement. “What city?”
“Malibu.”
“And this car, whose is it?”
“Mine,” she asserted. “Kirsten Montgomery.”
“Yours? And where did you acquire it?”
A sudden look flashed across her face. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped a notch, then they both snapped shut. “It’s a gift, from my ex-boyfriend. Kurt Black.”
A chortle of disbelief escaped from his throat. If the convertible was a gift, then he was Mister Rogers.
From the blank look of disbelief on Kirsten’s face, he expected she’d try to run. He needed to get the cuffs on her.
As predicted, when he advanced, she stumbled backward, taking off in a sprint toward the diner. Reid pursued her, amazed by her speed. Like a flash, she darted from his grasp, and he actually had to put forth some effort to catch her.
Before Kirsten could round his Blazer, he caught her arm and stopped her in her tracks. With a forceful yank, Reid threw her against his truck and pinned himself against her.
Feisty as a wildcat, Kirsten continued to try to break away from him with desperate yanks and tugs. Sharp nails began to dig into his skin as he pulled her hand behind her. Pain pinched into his wrists, and Reid rushed to slam shut the cuff and grab for her other flailing arm. A slight cry escaped her, a hint of desperate pain traced in it, and he softened his touch just a notch.
He didn’t want to hurt her, but Reid couldn’t help but think a sound spanking was exactly what the hellcat needed as she started to struggle against him once again.
His grasp tight on her arm, he detained her against the Blazer as he tried to grab her other wrist. The vixen wriggled and twisted to keep away from him, and the movement caused her bottom to rub against his hips.
For the first time in years, Reid’s cock twitched and started to harden.
“Stop it,” he commanded as he grabbed her thrashing hand. “Stop resisting.”
“Let me go,” she begged. Like a worm, she twisted around and gazed up at him with a pleading expression.
Reid whirled her right back into place. The sprite might be bewitching, but he didn’t plan to let a pair of beguiling green eyes fool him. When he managed to catch her other hand, he wasted no time locking the cuff around it.
No way would she be getting away from him.
He didn’t take kindly to outsiders in his town, especially not reckless drivers in stolen cars. One tragic accident had been enough. No family in Paradise would lose their loved ones as he’d lost his parents, not on his time.
“This vehicle has been reported stolen, and I’m placing you in custody. You have the right to remain silent…”
2
“Please, this must be a mistake,” Kirsten growled through gritted teeth. “This is my car. It’s not stolen.”
“Hold still.”
Right, like she could even if she wanted to. Adrenaline rushed her body as panic raced through her, spinning her in a million directions. Wild beats thumped her heart against her ribs, and her breath came in heavy gulps. She yanked at the cuffs trapping her hands. “This is ridiculous. Release me at once, you overgrown hillbilly.”
“Can’t do that, Ma’am.” The sheriff pushed her against the muddy side of the Blazer. His hands fell on her hips, their touch searing right through the soft cotton of her sweat pants. The intimate feel of his hands upon her coursed a strange tingle through her. Shocked by her body’s betrayal, she reared back. Her head slammed into his shoulder, yet he didn’t even wince. With a firm grasp, he encircled her waist and pinned her once again. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t stop. Stay still a minute, then we’ll talk. I’m going to pat you down for weapons.”
The sheriff’s large hands assailed her once again, their touch like tortuous fire as they slowly searched her body. Kirsten squeezed her eyes shut as he patted her down, sure his determined fingers grazing across her hips and legs would drive her insane. Jolts of desire flashed to her breasts and groin, dampening her with desire. Kirsten bit her lip a little harder as embarrassment rushed to her cheeks.
For Christ’s sake, she’d recently left the biggest jerk of all time. What was wrong with her? She’d just met this man, yet her body felt more alive than it had in years. How could she be responding to a stranger like this?
Her mind willed her body to turn off, but it continued to fill with need as he moved his fingers around her ankles, running his calloused fingers inside the hem of her anklet socks. Delicate skin collided against his coarse touch, setting off a burst of tiny fireworks. Everything in Kirsten prickled, angry at the invasion. It took all her willpower not to kick him in the face right then and there.
Finally, he stopped and stepped back. Relief hit her, laced with a traitorous disappointment. In spite of her fear, she actually enjoyed his touch. She wanted more of it, though she loathed the very thought. Disgusted, Kirsten directed her anger right where it belonged—on him.
He had no right to touch her like that, so…so…deliberately.
Kirsten whirled around, prepared to give the sheriff a piece of her mind. Her face collided with the expanse of his solid chest. For a moment she stared, her breath caught in her throat. Muscles pulled at the tight white T-shirt. Through its thin fabric, tiny black hairs curled against built pecs. A hint of its dark trail across his flat, tight stomach teased her with the notion of where it led. The urge to reach up and tear away the cloth barrier pulsed through her and blinded her with the image of what she would find. With a gulp, she stepped back, her retreat halted by the Blazer.
There was no escaping him. Kirsten slowly pulled her gaze up his length, unconsciously drinking in every detail of his height. At first, she’d seen nothing but her fear, but now she saw the man.
Paralyzed, she continued to savor the sight of the dark and dangerous sheriff who towered over her. Whiskers shadowed his steel jaw like black sandpaper against his leathery-bronzed skin. Deep chocolate eyes, framed by thick black lashes, met hers, his hard gaze an obvious challenge.
No doubt, his rough and tough looks were tantalizing. The Sheriff was one hot cowboy.
And she embarrassed herself. She snapped her jaw shut, then reopened it to make her demand. “Listen, sir, I’m not sure what kind of redneck bullshit this is, but I did not steal this car. It’s mine. All mine. Uncuff me now, and I won’t press charges.”
With a cold look he ignored her, bending down to pick up his cowboy hat, which must have fallen during their scuffle. Kirsten swallowed at the sight of his tight rear against formfitting Levi’s, firm and sculpted, as if it had been chiseled from stone. Everything in her told her to reach out and take a squeeze, to feel him, as he’d felt her. The only thing stopping her was the cuffs around her hands.
He stood, and she forced herself to shake away the naughty thoughts. She needed to get herself out of these handcuffs, not into his bed. “My lawyer won’t be pleased. He could tear a tiny town like this in two.”
His full lips carved into a sarcastic smile that hardly budged his cheeks. “Lady, I’m doing my job. Sorry, can’t let you go, won’t let you go, and not a one of your nasty comments or threats will make the darnedest difference. We might be a small town, but we follow the law. You city folk should try it.”
“Oh, come on. How do I even know you’re a real cop?”
He flicked a silver badge pinned to the pocket of his white T-shirt. “Sheriff Reid Walker, ma’am. Pleased to meet you.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Kirsten rolled her eyes. Christ, it was like something out of an old
western movie. Next he’d pull out his six shooters and whistle for his sidekick.
“Nope.”
“Come on, damn it, it’s my car. My boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, gave it to me for my birthday this June.”
“Would that be a Mister Kurt Black?”
“Yes! Yes, exactly. Look in my purse, you’ll see. Why else would I have everything from credit cards to health insurance identification in his name? It’s my car, that’s why. He gave it to me.”
The sheriff shook his head and strode over to her car with a fast stride. Tightly muscled legs pulled against his jeans as he moved and Kirsten found herself imagining the knotted strength in them, their rippled mass covered in tiny black hairs, thicker high on his thighs, dark and manly. Then her gaze darted up to a bulge of power between his legs.
Stop it! She inwardly chastised herself, unable to tear her eyes away from him. Had she gone insane? For heaven’s sake, the man had her in handcuffs and all she could do was check him out and drip with desire.
As much as she wanted to turn her back right now and blind herself from the sight of him, she wouldn’t have him rooting through her car unsupervised. Eyes narrowed, she watched his movements. The sheriff reached into her car and Snowball chose that moment to finally show himself. Why he hadn’t jumped out of the car long ago amazed Kirsten. Usually he leapt to protect her.
Snowball bounded from the floorboard where her purse lay to pounce right on the sheriff. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him attacking before she realized he wasn’t defending her at all. Quite the contrary. Snowball covered the cop’s face with licks while he yapped a greeting.
“Snowball, stop it!” she yelled at her traitorous pet. She’d never seen Snowball so friendly with any man. “Get down, Snowball. Right now.”
“It’s okay. Nice dog.” The sheriff held up her purse and waved the thin black bag. “Got your permission, ma’am?”
“Yes,” she gritted through her teeth, hating the thought of anyone rummaging through her belongings. Especially him.
And wouldn’t you know it, the very first thing he pulled out: her emergency tampon. She winced as he held it up in wonderment, his cocoa eyes analytical and narrowed. A wide smile broadened on his face and she could have died. “You don’t need to pilfer my whole purse, you know. Just get out my damned wallet, and then you can release these ridiculous cuffs.”
The Cop Page 7