His Private Pleasure

by Donna Kauffman

  “Okay, okay, point made,” he said, chuckling. “So tell me, what made Pearl decide to turn on Dugan? She carried a torch for him even after he married another woman.”

  “Well, she thought she had his love, and more importantly, his respect.” Liza snorted. “Though I’d have had a tough time with that one. But in her mind, she was paying him back for being kind enough to take care of her and love her enough to walk away. She didn’t think she was marriage material, anyway.”

  “And?”

  “And then his new wife got a bun in the oven and turned Dugan out of the marriage bed.”

  Dylan groaned. “Oh no. He didn’t.”

  “Oh yeah, he did. Jerkface,” she muttered. “He was fine as long as Elaine was providing for his manly needs. But when that supply was shut off temporarily, he came knocking on Pearl’s door again.”

  “Dumb-ass. Why didn’t he just find a call girl or…”

  “Or anyone else. I know. I guess he thought she’d welcome him back with open arms. For old time’s sake.” Liza made a disgusted noise. “What is with men, anyway?”

  “Hey,” Dylan said. “I take offense at that. Most of us only think with that part of our anatomy—”

  Liza folded her arms and gave him a look.

  “Most of the time, okay. But not when it’s important.”

  She merely lifted an eyebrow.

  Dylan shook his head, laughing as they pulled into the dusty gravel parking lot.

  “Where are we?” She looked around. They were at the edge of what looked like a very small, very old town. Only a few buildings lined the main street, and what was there looked mostly deserted.

  “Old mining town. Not much left of it these days, but they have the best Mexican food north of the border.” He got out and came around to open her door.

  “Such a gentlemen,” she murmured as he helped her out.

  He leaned close. “An excuse to touch you,” he said next to her ear. “I want my hands on you, Liza.”

  There was that pleasurable tingling rush, she thought, then looked up at him and told him exactly what she was thinking. “Then we both want the same thing. Imagine that!”

  “I have a really good imagination.”

  “I imagine you do.” She smiled and brushed against him as she moved past him toward the sedan, which had pulled into the lot.

  Dylan took her arm and tugged her gently back against him. “In fact, I’m imagining ways to keep you around.”

  Her heart gave a double thud.

  “Well, here’s hoping your imagination is as good as you think it is, hotshot,” she teased. But as she crossed the lot toward Pearl and Quin, her heart tacked on, Because maybe if you keep me here long enough, I’ll come up with a good reason to stay forever.

  15

  “NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT.” Dylan threw his napkin on the table and pushed his chair back. “I don’t have anything set up for that, Quin, and you know it.”

  The interview was done and Quin had all he needed. In fact, he’d already called in, and a warrant for Dugan’s arrest was being processed even as they finished their meal. Dylan supposed he should have seen this little complication coming, but his mind had been too full of getting Liza alone and, frankly, getting some sleep. He’d hoped to combine the two, and forget about Pearl and Quin completely.

  Pearl’s lip quivered and Liza folded her arms and glared at him. “She can stay with me.”

  Dylan simply looked at her. “No.” He could be stubborn, too.

  Liza turned to Quin. “She’s a free citizen, right? She can stay wherever, with whomever, she wants, correct?”

  “She can, but given the strength of her statement and who she’s making it against, it’s in her best interest to take the protection we can provide. At least until the trial is over.”

  “I’m not going back to that town until I have to testify,” Pearl stated. “And then I’m heading right back out again. I’m done there.” Her eyes started to fill. “It has only bad memories for me. I’m going to relocate. Somewhere quiet, start over. Florida, maybe. Walk the shore, watch the birds.”

  Liza swung her gaze back to Dylan, who was already holding up his hand to stem the tirade that was going to come his way.

  “Liza, just because Dugan will get picked up, along with several of his associates, does not mean he can’t arrange to send some other little cockroach of his down here.” He shifted his gaze to Quin. “I don’t want that coming to my town again.” He reached out for Pearl’s hand, and she grudgingly allowed him to take hold of it. He looked only at her. “This isn’t personal. Once the trial’s over, you can retire wherever you want. But in the meantime, they have safe places for you there and are much better prepared for this sort of thing than I am.”

  Liza snorted.

  Dylan glared at her. “What? What makes you think you can handle something like this?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’ve managed to keep a seventeen-year-old heartthrob safe from ten thousand—yes, I said thousand—screaming, conniving, desperate, lovesick young girls. And that was in a town that didn’t even have a traffic light.”

  Dylan didn’t blink. “Yes, but that was for what? A weekend? And those girls weren’t killers.”

  Liza smiled. “Oh, you’d be surprised. Some of them were amazingly cold-blooded and calculating. Capable of things that would curl your hair and make you cry for Mama. And it wasn’t for a weekend, it was for three months while he was filming a movie.” She turned to Pearl. “I’m not the police, and I’m certainly not saying I can do a better job of keeping you safe. But if you really don’t want to go back to Vegas until the trial, I’ll certainly be glad to do whatever I can to help. Finances aren’t a problem for me. We can look into renting a place that’s easy to watch, within close distance of the sheriff’s department. I’ve found that sometimes the best place to hide is in plain view. Hard to get you where everyone can always see you.”

  Pearl sniffed into a crumpled napkin and nodded. “That’s very kind of you.”

  Dylan swore under his breath. “With Dugan’s boatload of lawyers, we might be talking four months until trial.”

  Liza sent him a sly smile. “What, Sheriff, you have a problem with me staying in your town for that long?”

  “I—no.” He was angry; he hated being manipulated. But there was no way he could look at her and honestly tell her he didn’t like the idea of having her around. Hell, he’d all but begged her to do just that. He’d just like it better if she wasn’t harboring a major mob witness while she did it. “What about the rest of your sabbatical?”

  She propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. “That’s the great thing about sabbaticals. No set itinerary. No one to check with if I want to make a last minute change.”

  “I didn’t think you were planning to be away so long.”

  “I believe I mentioned earlier that I like to stay until things are finished.” She looked at him as if they were the only two people at the table. Hell, in the universe. “I think we both agreed things aren’t finished.”

  Dylan was very aware that they weren’t the only two people at the table, and that both Quin and Pearl were watching them with open interest. But four or more months…with Liza right within his reach. Dear Lord, the possibilities were staggering. Of course, the town might never recover. Maybe neither would he. But this wasn’t about what he wanted. It had to be about the safety of his people, of Pearl, even Liza herself.

  Quin finally piped in before Dylan could say anything more. “Maybe we can work something with the feds. Get her some protection down here. They’re going to want in on this now, anyway. Might as well make them earn their way in.”

  Dylan stared at three hopeful faces and sighed, knowing he was outnumbered. “All right.”

  Pearl clapped her hands, Quin took out his cell phone and began to make calls…and Liza looked at him and mouthed, “Thank you.”

  “Just don’t make me regret this,” he muttered as he s
tood.

  She stood up, too, and leaned over as she pushed her chair in. “I’m hoping neither of us does.”

  He watched her walk to the bathroom with Pearl, then shook his head. “How in the hell did I let that just happen?”

  Quin snorted and shook his head as he tossed some bills on the table. “You’ve been handled by a pro, pal. Two of them.” He nodded at Liza’s retreating back. “She’s something else, D.J. Where’d you find her, anyway?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Let’s just say she makes a habit of rescuing people.”

  “Yeah, well, she can rescue me anytime she likes.”

  Dylan shot him a look. “Find your own woman.”

  Quin chuckled. “I kind of thought it was like that.”

  Dylan stared at the closed bathroom door, letting the reality that Liza wasn’t going anywhere, at least not for the time being, truly sink in. “Yeah, I think it might be.”

  “About time, Action Jackson.”

  Dylan laughed at his old nickname. “Things are different in Canyon Springs. I’ve toned down my wild ways.”

  “Maybe. Still, I didn’t figure you for the settling down type.” He laughed. “Of course, I didn’t figure you for the small-town sheriff type, either.”

  “I don’t know about settling down. Nothing’s felt settled since she drove into town.” Dylan finally smiled. “Harboring Pearl might be tame by comparison.”

  Quin chuckled and clapped him on the back as they exited the restaurant. “She wants you to keep her here, I say hold on tight. Woman looks at me the way she was looking at you…” He let out a low whistle. “I’d be clinging for dear life. Lucky bastard.”

  Dylan just shook his head, but that idiotic grin was sneaking to the surface. “You going to stay long enough to help me get them set up?”

  “Yeah. I’m waiting on a few responses, but we should be able to get some preliminary things in place by tonight.” He raked his fingers through his hair, then stuck out his hand. “Thanks for doing this, man. I know it’s not what you wanted, but if these names and dates she gave us play, keeping her from bolting might be the difference between locking up Dugan and half his organization and letting him walk this earth a free man forever.”

  Dylan gave his hand a shake. “Yeah, I know.”

  “We owe you one.”

  He shot him a wry look. “Oh, you owe me so many you can’t even keep track of them anymore. I’ll let you know when I want to collect.”

  Quin laughed. “Yeah, next time you need to harbor some dangerous criminal from Canyon Springs, you let us know.”

  DYLAN HUNG UP THE PHONE and rubbed his eyes. It had been five hours since they’d dropped off Pearl and Liza—who’d ridden back to town with Quin and Pearl—at her hotel, along with Quin. It was ridiculous how much he’d missed having her next to him on the drive back. Even more ridiculous—what with everything he’d had to do in the past few hours, on as little sleep as he’d had—was just how often his thoughts had been on her. Somehow she’d managed to waltz into town and integrate herself into every corner of his life. He shook his head. She really was something else. And he’d never been so wrapped up in a woman in his life.

  Two Federal agents were heading in, and Quin was setting up a virtual command center from a small two-bedroom apartment two blocks the other side of the sheriff’s office that Liza had found within fifteen minutes of arriving back in town. Liza had already moved her few belongings there and was busy settling Pearl in with her.

  Now that he’d had time to digest the whole deal, Dylan was forced to admit that this was probably the best setup Quin and crew could hope for. Canyon Springs was small enough that, now that they were on alert, it would be difficult for someone new to waltz in and not draw attention. As for the unseen threats, the cops would be watching this time. And with the agents on the job and Pearl’s close proximity to the sheriff’s office, that shouldn’t be too hard, either.

  Which left him to worry about Liza. Who was right in the thick of things. Obviously in her element once again. Meaning in control of someone else’s life besides her own.

  Dylan had this urge to yank her out of there, drag her off to his cave and keep her, handcuffed again if necessary, until she let simply let everything and everyone else go. And why he cared so much whether or not she buried herself behind the needs of someone else, he had no idea. She was obviously good at it, and on some level, he knew it had to be rewarding. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t what she really needed. Or certainly not all she needed.

  He snorted and downed the cold dregs of his umpteenth cup of coffee. Like he had any clue what Liza Sanguinetti really needed out of life. Besides me in it, he couldn’t help but thinking. Someone to make her take some time for herself, give her what she needed. Even if she fought him every step of the way. He grinned despite the fatigue clawing at his every muscle. Right now what Dylan needed was some sleep.

  But even as he pulled out of the station and pointed his truck in the direction of home sweet home, he found himself slowing down as he passed by her apartment, fighting the desire to go in and rescue the rescuer. Take her away to a place where she could sit, relax, think deep thoughts, talk, laugh…love. Where there was no one to take care of but herself, nothing to dictate, control or worry about…except herself.

  He imagined her on his deck, sipping coffee as the sun rose. In his kitchen…not chained to his kitchen island—although that image was likely to haunt him, pleasurably so, for the remainder of his life—but just puttering about, scrambling an egg, reading the morning paper. He pictured her in his bed. Both with and without the handcuffs.

  He grinned and shook his head. He really was tired. But he couldn’t help but think his days would never be boring with her in his life, under his roof. Couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to want to get home from work because she’d be waiting for him. Sure, she’d probably drive him and half the town crazy. But maybe he still craved a little crazy in his life.

  Sleep, Jackson. To bed. Alone.

  So he drove home. And dreamed about giving refuge to a woman who didn’t know how to give it to herself. And in doing so, found a way to turn his own refuge into a home.

  “WHAT IN THE HELL do you mean, she’s gone out?” Dylan pressed his knuckles against his temples and gripped the phone more tightly.

  Liza sighed. “Don’t worry, Scully and Mulder are with them.”

  “Scully and who?” He needed aspirin. And more coffee. And then more aspirin. He’d been insane to agree to this arrangement. Three days and he was already losing his mind.

  “Yeah, you know, your agent buddies.”

  “You mean Cassidy and Walker. They’re not my buddies,” Dylan muttered. “And who exactly is ‘them’?”

  There was a pause this time and Dylan could feel his neck knot up.

  “Well, Avis came by and—”

  “No. No, no, no. You are not going to tell me Pearl is off somewhere with my mother.”

  “Not if you don’t badger me into telling you, I won’t.”

  Three days of torture, both in worrying about…well, everything, and in not getting to see Liza, who was too busy bonding with Pearl. And Mulder and Scully. And now, apparently, with his mother. Dylan swore under his breath. “What in God’s name is she doing with Avis? I told you I didn’t want her getting involved with—”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Dylan, she’s not going to simply stay tucked away here in this apartment for weeks on end. Besides, I explained before and you agreed with me, sometimes the best place to hide is in plain sight.”

  “Sometimes,” he repeated. “Fine. But not with my mother.”

  “Don’t get your handcuffs in a knot. The two of them aren’t even in Canyon Springs.”

  Dylan started to yell, then wisely clamped his jaw tight until he thought he could speak without losing it completely. He’d been doubly insane to think that having Liza in his town was going to be a good thing. He still
wanted to get his hands on her, but now he wasn’t so sure he didn’t simply want them around her lovely neck. “Where…are…they?” he muttered through gritted teeth.

  “Heading toward Tucson.”

  “Out of state?”

  “You’re yelling.”

  “I’m not—” He bit off the rest, forced his hands out of his hair before he ripped it out by the roots. “Why?” It was all he could manage.

  “They aren’t going across state lines, they’re merely meeting someone at the border.”

  “Oh, this eases my mind considerably.”

  “It’s a bird rescue, Dylan. Nothing nefarious.”

  “How did Pearl end up on one of my mother’s rescue missions? Never mind, don’t even answer that.”

  “She was climbing the walls here. And when I talked to Avis earlier, I remembered Pearl talking about retiring to go bird-watching, so I just thought she’d enjoy the company and might get a kick out of seeing her birds. I sort of wanted to see them, too, so—”

  “Why were you talking to Avis?”

  “Don’t sound so suspicious. She wanted to ask me about the festival next weekend. When it got out that I used to handle all sorts of, well, details for people—”

  “Famous people.”

  “Hey, I didn’t tell her that, but she asked me a ton of questions, and what was I supposed to do? Lie?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Dylan!”

  “Liza,” he retorted mockingly, though wearily.

  “Anyway, I ran into her in town yesterday and we got to talking about this booth she wants to have at the festival. Oh, now don’t groan and whine.”

  “I’m not whining.” He couldn’t lie about the groan.

  “Anyway, she started telling me about these three birds she’d been called on to rescue, and was worried half to death that she couldn’t leave, what with all the last-minute festival planning going on. I’d have offered to help with the birds, except I don’t know the first thing about handling them. But I do know how to—”