Deceived (Unlikely Heroes Book 3)

by Leslie Georgeson

  Meg gave an exaggerated sigh. “Fine! I’ll shoot the damn gun. Then will you let me go home with it?”

  Hesitation flickered in his eyes. “You know I want some answers from you,” he said. “If you’re going to be hanging around my daughter, I need to know she’s safe with you.”

  Meg lowered her gaze. Guilt stabbed through her. He just wanted to protect his daughter and she couldn’t fault him for that. She wanted him to know she would never hurt Kristen.

  “So, do we have a deal?” his voice was soft, close to her ear.

  She lifted her head. He’d stepped up beside her. Heat radiated off his powerful body, along with his manly scent, making her overly aware of him. She jumped back. “Yeah.”

  Looking pleased with himself, he turned and headed across the yard. “Follow me. I have a shooting range set up behind the house. I just put it there about an hour ago. You’ll be the first to use it.”

  Meg followed him around the back of his house, leaving Prince to graze on the front lawn. She hoped the gelding left a fresh, steaming pile of manure to greet Zach when they returned.

  Indeed, there was a small shooting range a few hundred yards behind the man’s house. Five targets had been set up at varying distances from the “shooting point.” Zach motioned her over. Meg approached warily, then stopped a few feet away.

  He sighed. “I know you think I’m some kind of beast, but I promise I’m not going to hurt you.” He crooked a finger at her. “Come here.”

  Meg’s heart thumped wildly. She stepped up to him, her eyes downcast to hide her nervousness. Zach turned her, pointed her toward the first target. He placed the gun in her good hand. She stiffened when his arms came around her from behind as he showed her how to hold the gun. His hands were big and warm, his palms slightly chaffed. Meg could feel the solidness of him behind her, the hard, powerful male body just barely touching hers when he moved her fingers into position around the pistol, his hands closing around her hand, helping her hold the gun. His cologne and body heat drifted over her, consuming her.

  “A person of your small size might need two hands to hold the gun,” he said in her right ear. “But since you only have one working hand at the moment, I’ll help you hold it. As you get more used to it, and once you get that cast off, you’ll be able to hold it with both hands.”

  Meg was so aware of the hard male body behind her that she could barely breathe. “I can’t…breathe when you’re so close,” she said huskily. Her skin heated when she realized she’d spoken out loud. At least she hadn’t had an inappropriate outburst again.

  His breath tickled her ear as he murmured, “It will only be for a moment.” He cleared his throat. “When you’re ready, pull the trigger. Do not, under any circumstances, point that gun at anything you don’t intend to shoot.”

  Meg drew in a sharp breath, tried to concentrate on what he’d told her. But he was too close. Every time she took a breath, she smelled him.

  Concentrate Meg! Don’t be a fool! He’s just a man.

  She inhaled sharply and sighted the first target. Zach’s fingers helped her hold the gun, but he let her pull the trigger on her own. Meg stared at the target. She pulled the trigger.

  The gun jerked in her hand, its power and force shocking her. Zach’s fingers tightened around hers, keeping the gun steady so she didn’t drop it. If he hadn’t been helping her hold the gun, it would have flown from her hand. She stumbled back in surprise, her body colliding with his. Zach caught and steadied her, made sure she kept the gun pointed at the ground.

  Meg glanced back at him. “Did I hit it?”

  He chuckled. “Nope. Not even close.”

  His scent teased her nostrils again, woods and pine and other subtle scents, urging her to lean back and breathe him in.

  “That was...almost too much,” she whispered, barely resisting the urge to inhale his clean, masculine scent. “You do…strange things to me.”

  Heat crawled up her neck and into her cheeks. Had she just said that aloud?

  His gaze shot to hers. Her admission seemed to take him by surprise. When she’d told him mostly lies thus far, she imagined he was shocked by her truthful statement. His expression softened as he gazed down at her. Meg couldn’t seem to look away. God, he was hot. She had the sudden urge to reach out and stroke that strong, handsome face, that hard, chiseled jaw, run her fingers through that thick dark hair...

  “You’re so hot, hot, hot. Scorching hot.” The tic hit her unexpectedly. Her arm jerked. Once. Twice. “I want to gobble you up, up, up.” She yanked her ponytail. Once. Twice.

  Abruptly he stepped back, taking the gun from her. “I think we should wait until your arm is healed before we do this. I think you’re going to need both hands to hold the pistol.”

  Meg stared at him in confusion. What the hell just happened? As she stared at him, watching the color creep up his neck and into his face, it hit her. Oh dear God, had she just spoken that out loud? Heat spread from her scalp clear down to the tips of her toes. She let out a mortified gasp. She’d had two tics, one right after the other. And she’d blurted out totally inappropriate things.

  You’re so hot, hot, hot.

  I want to gobble you up, up, up.

  Had she really said that? Seriously? Gobble you up? What the hell did that even mean? She’d never thought of something like that before, let alone said it out loud.

  She was a fool, fool, fool.

  Meg jerked away from him, more embarrassed than she’d been in her entire life, and hurried across the lawn to where she’d left Prince. She didn’t care about the gun. He could have it. She just had to get away from him before she made a bigger fool of herself. She wanted to dig a huge hole and bury herself deep inside.

  She stumbled clumsily across the lawn and almost fell a couple of times as she ran away.

  She’d almost reached Prince when she heard Zach’s voice behind her. “Kim,” he said softly. “Stop. I didn’t mean to upset you. You just…took me by surprise.”

  No duh. She’d taken herself by surprise too. She’d never blurted out something like that to a man before. It was totally inappropriate and so humiliating she wanted to die.

  She took another deep breath and turned around. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.” She kept her gaze down, unable to look at him. “I…” She swallowed. “I have a medical condition. It’s called Tourette’s Syndrome. I can usually control it, but sometimes when I’m in a really tense or stressful situation, it just takes over.” She bent her head in shame. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” She peeked up at him.

  He didn’t speak for a long moment. A thoughtful expression came over his face.

  “Do I stress you out that much?”

  Her legs wobbled. “Y-yes.”

  He sighed. “You didn’t embarrass me. I’m sorry I thought you were high before. I shouldn’t have assumed.” His gaze held hers. “Forgive me?”

  He wasn’t making fun of her? Something twisted in her chest. was so different from everyone else.

  Meg couldn’t find her voice, so she nodded. She stared into his eyes as awareness crackled between them. Her senses became heightened, making her aware of how close he stood, how good he smelled, how strong and powerful and wonderfully male he was. And how attracted she was to him.

  His voice softened. “What am I going to do with you?”

  His gaze slid down until it settled on her mouth.

  Her heart raced. The breath snagged in her throat.

  Oh no.

  Kissing…touching…all that lover-like stuff wasn’t allowed. A man like Zach might cause her to lose control. And Meg had vowed no one would ever control her again.

  Ever.

  “No,” she whispered, hastily stepping back. “I have to go.”

  She snatched up Prince’s reins and mounted, using her good arm to hold onto the saddle horn while she swung up into the saddle.

  Zach stepped up to the horse. He grabbed the animal’s reins before she could
flee. “Here.” He held her gun out to her. Meg hesitated. Was he teasing her?

  “You keep it,” she said without meeting his gaze. “I obviously can’t shoot it with one hand.”

  Zach stared up at her for a long moment. Finally he lowered the gun. “I’ll just keep it until you’re ready to have it back, all right? Or maybe I can help you select one more appropriate for you.”

  There he went again, referring to her small size. But she was still so mortified by what she’d done that she didn’t get riled this time. She jerked her head in a quick nod, unable to meet his gaze.

  Why wasn’t he making fun of her like everyone else? Did her condition not offend him?

  She cleared her throat. “You’re not…offended by my condition?”

  He stepped closer to the horse, looking up at her. “Not in the least.” He held her gaze until she looked away.

  “I’m not the bad guy,” he said softly. “I don’t know who you are or what you’re running from or why you’re so scared of me, but I’m telling you, I’m. Not. The. Bad. Guy.” He emphasized the last five words, as if he were talking to a slow person.

  Meg pulled her gaze back to his. The look in his eyes was so tender, so…compassionate that her eyes stung with tears. She sucked in a breath. Maybe he wasn’t so arrogant after all.

  “I know,” she whispered. “That’s what scares me.” He was not only different, he was good. Truly good. Damn him.

  She pulled the reins from his grasp and turned Prince away, heading back into the forest. She glanced back. Zach stared after her with a perplexed expression on his face.

  “You’re going to have to trust someone sometime,” he called, raising his voice to be heard.

  Her heart aching in a way it never had before, she swung back around and urged the horse into a trot. “Yeah,” she whispered to herself as she rode away. “But I’m too scared to let that be you.”

  Though she didn’t look back a second time, she knew he watched her ride away.

  * * *

  Zach was more confused than he’d ever been in his life, more conflicted than he’d imagined he’d ever be. Technically, Kim wasn’t a suspect anymore. There had been only one set of fingerprints on the Taser and those prints had matched the dead man’s, so Kim hadn’t shot him with the Taser, unless she’d been wearing gloves. But the evidence suggested that the fool had accidentally killed himself with his own Taser. Zach had heard her scream and when he’d come around the corner that morning, it was obvious the man had been dead for a while. Zach was relieved that she hadn’t killed the guy, though he wasn’t sure why he would care.

  And he’d believed her story. Most of it.

  He still didn’t know who she was or what she was running from. Or why she was so afraid of him.

  He let out a soft groan. What the hell was he going to do about her? He wanted answers to all the questions she kept refusing to give answers to, but then she’d gone and blurted, You’re so hot, hot, hot and then I want to gobble you up, up, up. The erotic images that had filled his mind when she’d blurted that out even now made his body harden with longing. The thought of her lips on his skin, anywhere, made his pulse quicken, his breathing shallow, and his groin swell with need. Damn, he didn’t want to want her. But his body refused to listen.

  He’d forgotten all about getting those answers from her. He’d been so stunned, so turned on, he’d jerked away from her. Her words had sent a thrill of pleasure coursing through him, a twinge of delicious excitement that made his blood boil. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman’s words had had that effect on him. Her tics had obviously been involuntary, and she’d appeared horrified by her outbursts, but it had been her softly spoken words prior to her outbursts that had affected him as much or more than her shouted outbursts.

  I can’t…breathe when you’re so close.

  That was...almost too much.

  You do…strange things to me.

  Christ. Zach raked a hand through his hair. He’d always been intuitive. Observant. But never more so than when he was around Kim.

  She’d asked if he’d been offended by her condition. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said not in the least. He actually found it endearing. It made her human. Had others made fun of her in the past? His heart ached for her. People could be so cruel.

  The first time she’d blurted, He’s hot, hot, hot in her living room that morning, he hadn’t been sure if he’d heard correctly. And he hadn’t been able to get it out of his head all day. Now she’d gone and said it again, along with I want to gobble you up, up, up. He groaned. Now he knew she meant it, but she was obviously embarrassed by her attraction to him.

  She was afraid of him. He was certain she didn’t like him. It had never occurred to him that she might be attracted to him. And damn, but he wanted to strip her naked and see that hot little body up close with his own eyes, kiss her, touch her, taste her everywhere…

  Hell, the truth was he’d wanted her ever since he’d seen that photo of her in the pink bikini. That photo flashed through his mind again, taunting him.

  Shit.

  He’d damned near kissed her a moment ago. If she hadn’t whispered, “no” and pushed him away, he wasn’t sure what would have happened. He was intrigued by her, frustrated with her—hell, he didn’t even know her real name—and now all he’d be able to think about was making love to her. Zach wasn’t the type to get starry eyed over a woman. He’d never been in love before. The last woman he’d dated had told him he was emotionally detached. That had been not long after he’d become sheriff here. Hell, had it been that long since he’d dated? He didn’t even have time for a relationship. He took his job as the sheriff seriously. So why hadn’t he been able to get Kim or her pretty turquoise eyes out of his head since the night he’d met her? Why did his protective instincts kick in whenever he was around her? Hell, why couldn’t he be interested in one of the many women in town who flocked around him?

  Because he didn’t want any of them.

  He wanted Kim.

  And there it was. His biggest problem. Shit, why did he have to be attracted to the one woman who didn’t even like him? A woman who was so full of mystery and intrigue he wasn’t sure if he’d ever figure her out? A woman who might well be a criminal.

  No, he didn’t believe that. She was definitely afraid of someone or something, but his gut told him she wasn’t a criminal. If only he could get her to talk to him, tell him who she really was…

  Rubbing a hand roughly over his face, he turned and headed back to his house with her gun. He’d return the gun to her later, he decided. It would give him a reason to go over there.

  As he neared the front porch, he spied Kristen sitting on the top step, watching him.

  She glared at him as he approached, rising to her feet when he reached her. “What did you say to her to make her run away like that? You’d better be nice to her. She’s the first friend I’ve made since moving to this po-dunk town! If you run her off, I’m leaving too!” She marched into the house and slammed the door behind her.

  Zach stared at the closed door.

  That was two females he’d run off in a matter of minutes.

  Hell, it was a good thing there weren’t any more women around, or he’d probably run them all off.

  With a sigh, he climbed the steps and entered the house.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Zach found himself walking across the forest around seven that evening, heading for Kim’s little cabin, with the .45 in his hand. He had resigned himself to the fact that he had to call her “Kim” since that was the only name she’d given him, even though he knew in his gut that wasn’t her real name. He hadn’t entered her “false information” ticket into the system yet. If she was in danger, he wouldn’t feel right charging her with the misdemeanor. He would wait and see what she was up to first.

  Someday he’d get the truth out of her. He just wasn’t sure how yet. Why wouldn’t the woman trust him?

  Kristen had been wa
tching a movie on Netflix when he left. He’d told her he’d be back in a few minutes, but she’d just ignored him. He wondered how long she would give him the silent treatment.

  His thoughts returning to Kim, Zach wondered what he would say to her. He’d been thinking about her all afternoon and trying to come up with a way to get her to talk to him without appearing too pushy or cop-like.

  What could he say that would get her to let down her guard around him?

  He just wanted her to think of him as a normal guy, not a cop. He’d have to say something non-cop like.

  He choked out a laugh. How did he appear non-cop like to her? Maybe if he told her something about himself, something personal, she’d be more willing to open up to him.

  His stomach churned at the thought. He’d never been a sharing kind of guy. But he’d have to figure something out if he wanted her to tell him what was going on with her. He wanted to help her, but if she wouldn’t talk to him, how could he help her?

  The hippie was sitting in the porch swing, smoking a doobie, when Zach neared the back of the cabin. The foul odor of the marijuana floated into Zach’s face as he approached. He paused at the edge of the trees. He wasn’t going to be a cop right now. He didn’t want to arrest anyone. He just wanted to be a regular guy. Someone Kim could talk to. Someone she could trust.

  Zach reached the bottom of the porch. The hippie eyed him through a stream of smoke he blew into the air.

  “Does Kim know you’re smoking that shit?”

  The guy shrugged. “Probably.” He wore a faded, black Def Leppard T-shirt. In Zach’s experience, most pot heads lived in a fantasy world, thinking they were still teenagers and worshiping the heavy metal bands of the eighties. This guy appeared to be around thirty or thirty-five, not much younger than Zach. But too old to be wasting his life away on pot. Zach never did understand addicts.

  “I don’t believe I caught your name,” Zach said, mounting the porch steps.

  “I’m nobody,” the hippie said with another drag on the joint. His head jerked to the side several times in rapid succession. Just like the other night. He blinked repeatedly, then shrugged his left shoulder, over and over, before finally growing still. “But you can call me Curtis, with a C.”