Guardian Angel

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Guardian Angel Page 3

by Lise Fuller


  The cheers about broke her eardrums. “Heaven help me,” she uttered. The drape over his backside hardly covered him. God, his ass was chiseled. Under a skilled hand, muscles like that could take care of a woman in need—like her.

  Marie closed her eyes a moment and hoped she didn’t drool.

  “Okay, ladies. Time to choose.”

  Jake dropped the backflap. Marie watched him stop alongside the other contestants. He crossed his powerful arms over his broad muscular chest, an act that caused his pecs to jump and his nipples to jut from the dark hair that sprinkled down the front of him. She wondered what those small buds would feel like in her mouth.

  Oh God. She squeezed her legs together and hoped she didn’t cream her g-string. She sucked in a deep draught of air then controlled the exhale through her pursed lips to get her hormones back in line. The last thing she should think about was fucking the sheriff.

  The man’s gaze locked on hers. He arched a brow as if he could read her thoughts. The corners of his lips rose into a mocking grin—one that seemed to ask if she liked what she saw, if she’d like to get a closer inspection.

  Hell yeah she would. The old Marie wouldn’t back down from the unspoken challenge. She felt the urge. She rose to it. She let her eyes roam over him. Yeah, he was built, not with the bulky muscles of a body builder, but with a man used to hard labor.

  A man who could take care of business.

  Ouch. Her breath hitched at the thought of that hard body skin-to-skin with hers. She pressed her fingers to her temple, hoped to tamp down the libidinous thought then looked away. She conceded victory to the man. She had to. She shouldn’t flirt with him. He was the law. If he found out what she’d done, he’d arrest her. The smart thing would be to stay as far away from him as she could. What was she thinking?

  But Marie wanted him. Wanted his body at least. Hell, she could use the release from the tension she’d lived with of late. But with the sheriff? “Must be pheromones or something,” she grumbled. That and the Freudian thing. Having a virile man who could protect her. Cripes, every pore of the man oozed “fuck me”. She was a normal woman. Of course her body reacted. What else did she expect? Besides, the excuse was the only thing she could think of for her errant behavior. The normal, rational part of Marie would never be this stupid.

  But God she couldn’t help staring.

  Someone put a pen and paper in her hand. The act took a few seconds to register. She still gawked at the sheriff then frowned as she questioned why he stood there looking at her the way he did.

  She blinked to get her mind onto the immediate issue—her vote. She glanced at the blank page and swore that as soon as she gave the emcee the paper, she’d get away from Sheriff Colder as fast as she could. Still, heat formed deep in her belly. The antsy flutter of her libido stirred her sex. And the way he looked at her… Did he want her too?

  She looked up from under her lashes. The sheriff still watched her. His eyes delved into her, as if they reached for something inside. Her nipples tingled. The heat in her spread lower. The tiny muscles around her pussy clenched. The man’s look intensified, grew more carnal, more possessive. Did he know what he did to her?

  She glanced away. Pressed her lips together and tried to concentrate on the blank page. Over the last few days she must have lost her mind because if she’d been in her right one, she’d never have been duped into this insanity. She scribbled a name and folded the note. Closing her eyes, she handed the paper to the master of ceremonies.

  “It’s unanimous,” George shouted as he opened hers.

  “Arg.” Marie buried her head in her hands. The man would have to say that.

  “Deputies, give Sheriff Colder the two hundred dollars.”

  The women went wild. A few of them rushed to the men. Marie ducked under their flailing arms to make her escape.

  “Ladies, ladies, please don’t attack the contestants. I’ll have to get Sheriff Colder to drag you away,” the announcer blathered.

  “Have him take me away, George.” Marie heard the thin, high-pitched voice of some woman over the crowd. Marie chuckled as she skirted around the tepee to make good her getaway. She needed to get her libido back under wraps.

  From nowhere strong fingers closed around her arm. The velvet grip held her flesh like an iron vise.

  “Hey, not so fast,” the deep voice entreated.

  She panicked. Marie swung around and fell face-first into the sheriff. Her cheek brushed the soft dark hair of his chest. Her hands fell against his granite biceps. His arm circled her waist and pulled her hips and torso snug against his. God, did he feel good.

  Heat suffused her cheeks. She buried her face against him and inhaled. The musky combination of aftershave and clean sweat filled her. She breathed again, relished the smell of the man. He was all male.

  “You okay?” He hooked his finger under her chin and lifted it off his chest. His eyes twinkled.

  “Uh.” She licked her lips. “Yes. Fine.” Her hands slid across the sinewy brawn of his broad shoulders. She gulped. “I…uh…”

  “I’m glad you came. I’m sure your vote swung the balance.” His white teeth gleamed against his tanned skin. His hands eased down her back.

  Her breaths came faster. The need to fuck the man built in her belly again. But she couldn’t. She had to stop this. “I don’t think my vote had anything to do with your winning.”

  “Sure it did. Now you know I can afford to pay you.”

  “You don’t need to pay me.” She pushed him away before she forgot she spoke to the law—and before she forgot herself in his arms.

  “You mean you’ll do it for free?”

  “No, I mean I will not trade services with you.” She swung around but he grasped her elbow.

  “Why not? Don’t you need a place to stay?”

  She did but she hadn’t told him that. “I have a place.”

  He turned her to him, put his other hand on her waist and frowned. “That motel room isn’t a fit place to live.”

  She shrugged. The setup was better than living in the same house with the local law. How long would it be before she jumped his bones?

  And would he let her?

  Hell. She couldn’t. No way. She needed her wits about her. “It’ll do for now.”

  His eyes narrowed. The small lines around his mouth flattened. He stared at her a moment with a seriousness she hadn’t seen in him as yet. “Look, wait here and let me get dressed. I’ll be on duty but we could still talk.”

  She took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. Folding her arms across her chest, she raked her eyes over him. “You’re working? Funny uniform. You undercover?”

  He dropped the stern look and gazed at her with a sense of all-male pleasure. He bent toward her and whispered, “You like what you see?”

  His nearness startled her. She answered him with another blush.

  “Stay,” he pleaded, his voice a low whisper. “I’ll be right back.”

  She swallowed then nodded. This isn’t a good idea. She watched his taut ass duck into the tepee. Not a good idea at all.

  —

  Jake swooped through the entrance and questioned what the hell he’d done. At first he’d thought his proposal a great idea, getting the unfamiliar woman to be his housekeeper. She needed money and he desperately needed help. Someone had to stay home with Jesse at night, and with his job he couldn’t always do that. Shit, Gramps had scared off everyone else.

  Had he been too impulsive? The woman was on the run and he didn’t know how fast or how far. She didn’t seem like the criminal type but one never knew. A bullet hole in the window wasn’t a good calling card.

  He slipped on his stained pants. Katie liked this woman. He could tell. His old friend was a good judge of character. He snorted as he put on his shirt. Katie might play the field but she had a heart of gold.

  He stopped as another thought hit him. Maybe Marie had a jealous husband? That idea left him cold. He growled. She hadn’t wor
n a ring but the absence of a band didn’t mean anything. He’d known too many women who took their wedding bands off when it was convenient—like when they were around him.

  He slipped on his shoes then buttoned his shirt and decided he wanted to get to know Ms. Marie Taylor better, a lot better. He grabbed his hat then ducked through the entrance and circled round the tepee. She was gone.

  “Pat. Kyle.” The two deputies had dispersed the rest of the crowd. Jake waved them over. “You see where that new waitress went?”

  Pat Sawyer stuck out his bottom lip and shrugged. “She was here a minute ago.” He squashed his grin and pushed his hat up an inch with his forefinger. “She sure is a pretty thing.”

  Kyle Thornsen slapped Pat’s upper arm with the back of his hand. “Yeah, probably came to check Jake’s parts out for herself. You know, make sure they’re okay. It’d be a heartbreak to some of the women around here if he’d been permanently damaged.”

  Pat, the older of the two, snickered. “Guess she satisfied herself and moved on.”

  Jake hooked his thumbs behind his belt and glared. “Very funny.” He scanned the area then exhaled through his parted lips. “If you see her, let me know.”

  Pat rubbed his chin. “You expectin’ trouble?”

  “Don’t you always expect trouble when a woman has legs like that?” He pasted on a smile that looked more relaxed than he felt. “Circle the grounds. Radio me if you find her. Quietly.”

  Jake walked off as the men joked, saying it was about time Jake got laid. Until he knew more, Jake would let them think what they wanted.

  He pulled his Stetson over his eyes to block the glare from the late afternoon sun. Something gnawed in his gut, told him to keep the woman nearby. If trouble came, keeping her close would be the quickest way to find it.

  Of course, keeping an eye on those legs and the cute backside that swayed with them wouldn’t be much of a bother. And if there were side benefits, he wouldn’t mind those either.

  Satisfied he’d found the problem Gramps warned him about, he lifted his chin. Whistling, he began his rounds.

  —

  Marie didn’t think she’d ever get the smell of grease out of her hair. Gus needed a hand for the evening shift so she volunteered. She wanted the money. More importantly, she’d needed something to do. A life on the run made her lonely. At least this gave her some kind of companionship.

  She glanced up and soaked in the vastness of the sky. Reddened clouds were feathered across it. The sun had dropped below the horizon but a bit of blue still rimmed the tops of the trees. The place was beautiful, peaceful, helped to ease her mind from her troubles.

  A mild breeze blew against her face. The coolness of the night helped relax her tired bones. She looked around and thought a walk might do her good. Maybe the fresh air would help her to sleep for once.

  She strolled from the diner and passed the entrance to the motel. The sign for the lodge sparked as it lit for the night. Per Gus, it was about time the thing read “No Vacancy”. When she got to the edge of the lot, she glanced down the road. There was no sidewalk but she didn’t let that deter her. She needed be alone with her thoughts.

  Marie stayed on the shoulder and let her mind wander as she absorbed the placid sense the night brought her. Farther down, she could see the lights of the Slow Dog Saloon, hear a few raucous sounds from the customers that cut through the peaceful air. In a few of the scattered houses beyond the tavern, more lights burned. Otherwise darkness blanketed the ranches.

  She stuffed her hands in her pants pockets. She’d heard Sheriff Colder had a spread out there. She thought about what it would be like to have a home like that, and the man to go with it.

  She thinned her lips. It would never happen. Not now.

  A melancholy sense took her. She glanced back at the restaurant. The sheriff had come to the diner for supper. He’d cornered her about the room. Prepared this time, she’d told him she’d think about his offer. Marie bit her lip. The man seemed like the persistent type. How long could she put him off? How long would she be able to stay in the small town?

  The music from the saloon grew louder as she neared. Marie heard a door bang. She crossed the street to avoid the bar and sputtered as two women in Indian skirts tried to get their mountain men back to their teepees.

  She inhaled, breathed deep the high plains air. It was fresh, clean. Something she could get used to. Marie stopped and scanned the countryside. It had always been her dream to live in the country. She shook her head. She’d never have guessed it would take a theft and a murder to get her here.

  Marie rubbed her arms. The chill of the night air made goose bumps rise on her skin. She’d been gone long enough, she decided, and began the walk back. Wyoming was so rural, more so than she’d expected. As she’d traveled the highway, she’d gone for miles without seeing another sign of life. In fact, she’d seen more cows than people. She thanked God Fort Bridger lay close to the interstate. At some point, she might need to make a quick getaway and the interstate could take her anywhere.

  She jogged across the road to get out of the way of an oncoming pickup. The coins she’d earned jingled in her pocket. When she got to the other side, she pulled out her tip money and counted twenty-six dollars and fifty-five cents. She relished the hard-earned cash. Before this, she’d been an investor, slick and savvy with an eye for a buck. She’d been on her way up, enjoyed herself at the spas, the formal dinners, the ambiance of the nouveau riche. Now she rolled her stiff shoulders and thought she liked this work better. No pretenses, no lies. Just the simple life.

  Unfortunately, the simple life didn’t provide much cash. The change that tinkled in her pocket wasn’t nearly enough to support her. She frowned as her fingers slid over the cool, smooth surface of a quarter. Before she’d fled, she had cleared out her savings account, a little over five thousand, but she realized the small amount wouldn’t be enough, not for someone on the run.

  Still, the papers she kept worried her the most. They were from Bill’s offshore accounts and documented every cent Bill Martin had stolen, and every one of them listed the receiver as “Back to America”.

  She rubbed her temples. When she’d confronted Bill, he’d dropped his easygoing façade and told her the money would buy weapons for the organization. When the news shocked instead of pleased her, he attacked. She looked up and wondered what in God’s name had happened to the country and why the hell those particular “patriots” chose to wreak their vengeance on her.

  A thin dark cloud drifted high above her. She let her mind flow with it. Around the scant fluff, bright stars twinkled. She paused to stare at them. There had to be millions. She gaped. She’d never seen so many. She even recognized some of the constellations, ones she’d never be able to pick out in the skies over the Potomac.

  The shuffle of feet broke her musing. A group of men had left the bar and swaggered along the road. She shoved her hands in her pockets and picked up her pace to the motel.

  “Hey, la-ady,” one of them yelled. “Yuh don’t want to be alone tonight, do yuh?”

  She heard his footsteps come closer.

  “Hey,” he slurred.

  She heard a thud and a groan. Marie spun around. The man had tripped and lay sprawled on the ground.

  Marie took advantage of his plight and ducked into the motel parking lot. She hurried to her room before he had any other ideas and slipped her key in the door. The men’s rowdy voices called for her. She rushed to enter and slammed the door behind her. Marie didn’t turn on the light until she’d assured herself she’d pressed the cheap lock in the handle.

  The sound of feet rustled outside her window. A series of quiet taps echoed on the windowpane. “Hey, lady. C’mon out.” The man tried to keep his voice to a whisper. “I’z in that soda ash mine for days now. C’mon out and give me some sugar.”

  His voice floated through the doorframe. Frightened, Marie leaned against the cheap wood. “Go away or I’ll call the police.” Her voice
trembled. She would never call the cops, but he didn’t need to know that.

  The knob rattled. Without warning, the lock popped open. The door inched ajar before she could shove the thing closed. She pushed against the old wood but the man outside pushed harder. Her arms gave way. The man fell into her room. Wearing a toothless grin from ear to ear, he dropped on top of her.

  Her head hit the hard floor. She groaned.

  “Aw, thanks for letting me in. Yuh sure are purty.” The miner grabbed her head and pulled her to him. The bristles on his chin scraped her face.

  She turned her cheek in time to avoid the kiss he slobbered on her neck. She wanted to retch. “Leave me alone,” she gritted out and tried to shove him away. Disgust and fear drove her, reminded her too much of an earlier night.

  “Aw, c’mon, sugar. Give me one.” His breath stank with the sickening sweet smell of whiskey. He slid his hands under her hips and groped her backside.

  “Let her go, Mike,” a deep voice commanded. Marie felt the man yanked off her. “Come on. You can sober up in the tank.”

  Jake Colder whirled the miner around and snapped his cuffs on him. “Sit down, and stay there.” He shoved Mike onto the bed.

  Relieved, Marie opened her eyes. Pain shot through her temples. She moaned as she pulled herself onto her elbows.

  “You okay?” Jake bent over. He put his hands behind her neck and raked his fingers through her hair.

  “Ow.” She flinched and pulled back from him. “What are you doing?”

  He stopped and looked at her. “Checking for lumps. I think I found one.” With a softer touch, he fingered the swelling. She focused on his even, steady breaths.

  When she placed her hands over his, he gazed at her. The dark blue in his eyes mesmerized her. She seemed to sink into their depths.

  His rich full mouth was within inches of hers. She licked her lips, curious if he tasted as good as he looked.

 

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