Deceived (Unlikely Heroes Book 3)

by Leslie Georgeson

  His heartrate kicked up. His breathing quickened. Just one little taste…

  Slowly he dipped his head.

  Her eyes widened to huge, frightened pools of turquoise. Her hand shot out, pressing against his chest. “Don’t,” she whispered. Her breathing grew shallow. Her eyes pleaded with him to back off. “Please, don’t, don’t, don’t.” Her arm twitched. Once. Twice.

  He hesitated, his mouth hovering near hers, the need to kiss her so strong it nearly consumed him. If he kissed her, would she melt against him and kiss him back? Would she run those soft lips over his skin, trail her fingertips down his body, press her delectable body against his?

  Back off, you moron. You’re scaring her.

  Zach drew in a ragged breath and leaned back. He glanced down to where her small hand still pressed against his chest. Heat flamed through her fingers and spiraled into him, spreading downward, heading straight for his groin. He imagined those soft hands sliding inside his shirt, stroking his pecs, traveling downward…

  His body instantly responded, hardening with need.

  She jerked away, her face flaming.

  Shit. Did she know how bad he wanted her? Though he was reluctant to end the intimacy, it was obviously too soon to kiss her. She wasn’t ready for that yet. What was she so afraid of?

  He had hoped that since he’d done a lot of sharing that she’d open up to him now, but he’d scared her away when he’d leaned toward her. Idiot! He needed to take it slow with her. For whatever reason, she still didn’t trust him. He would have to earn her trust before she’d let him any closer.

  Rising from the log, he said, “We’d better head back.”

  Kim bolted to her feet, her expression wary.

  Zach headed toward the road.

  “Zach?”

  He turned back to her.

  “You’re a good man,” she said quietly, her words sincere. “Just now…you didn’t pressure me when I pushed you away, even though you could have easily forced me. Thank you.”

  What the hell? Had someone forced her before? His stomach churned.

  He watched her for a moment, waiting, hoping she’d explain. But she just lowered her gaze and stared at the ground.

  She thought he was a good man. That made him feel good, so damn good his chest swelled. What was it about her that just a few kind words affected him so deeply?

  “Thanks. I appreciate that.” He held her gaze until she finally looked away, her face flushed. “Do you think you’ll tell me more about Kim someday?”

  Her gaze bounced back to his. “Someday,” she whispered. “But not today.”

  She sprinted away from him and headed back down the road in the direction they’d come from.

  As he trotted after her, Zach once again had the sensation that she was running away from him.

  And dammit, he still didn’t know her real name.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  About twenty minutes later Meg and Zach rounded the corner of her house and headed across the backyard. Meg was surprised to see Curtis sitting on the porch swing with Kristen. Curtis and Kristen both looked up, obviously startled. A giggle died on Kristen’s lips when she spied them. Before Meg could do more than blink, Zach charged across the yard and yanked Curtis up from the swing, slamming him up against the back of the house.

  Holding him there by his throat, Zack hissed, “You’d better stay the hell away from my daughter, you son-of-a-bitch!”

  “Zach!” Meg shouted, hurrying up behind him. “Let him go!”

  “Oh my God, Dad!” Kristen yanked at Zach’s arm. “What is wrong with you? He didn’t do anything! We were just talking!”

  “He has no business being anywhere near you! Were you smoking pot with him?”

  “Dad!” Kristen yelled again. “I can’t believe you! You’re so pathetic! I hate you!” Turning on her heel, she marched across the forest toward home.

  “Zach,” Meg tried again, gentling her voice. “He didn’t hurt her. They were just talking.”

  He spun around, his hand falling away from Curtis’s throat. Curtis sank down onto the porch, clutching his throat and gasping. Meg watched as a tic hit him hard. His shoulder shrugged, over and over. He blinked repeatedly, grimacing, then his head tilted rapidly to the side in quick jerks. Finally he grew still. Sympathy overwhelmed her. Curtis believed the marijuana helped with his tics, but Meg didn’t think so. He was addicted to something that didn’t help him at all. In her opinion, all the pot did was mess with his mind. But who was she to judge?

  “He was smoking pot in that swing not more than an hour ago!” Zach jabbed his index finger toward the swing. “You might condone drug use, but I sure as hell don’t, especially around my fourteen-year-old daughter! If he comes anywhere near her again, I’ll not only arrest him, I’ll make sure he serves some serious time behind bars!” His chest heaved in and out with his angry breaths. “If you hadn’t brought him here, this wouldn’t be happening.”

  Meg felt her mouth drop open. He was blaming her for this?

  Curtis stumbled to his feet and cast a glare at Zach. “Du-ude! What the fuck is your problem?” He yanked open the screen door and marched into the house, letting the door slap shut behind him.

  Zach’s furious gaze settled on Meg again. She held her ground, raising her chin. “You’re wrong about Curtis. He’s harmless.”

  Zach bent until his face was mere inches from hers. “And how do you know that, if you just met the guy yesterday? Oh, I forgot…you like to hitch rides with strangers, then invite them into your house and into your bed. So that means you must know him pretty well by now.”

  Meg gasped. “How dare you!” She’d never been so insulted in her life. Hot anger flashed through her. Her chest constricted. Her eyes filled with tears. “Get off my porch!” She jerked her arm toward the back yard. “And don’t you ever come back!”

  He glared at her for another few seconds, a muscle ticking in his jaw, then he jerked away. He bounded down the steps. He paused when he reached the ground, turning back around to face her. He heaved out a long sigh, his gaze seeking hers.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just…overreacted.”

  “You think?” She quirked a brow. Then the anger drained out of her, replaced by hurt. How could he think so lowly of her? “Since you have such a low opinion of me, I want you to leave. Now.”

  He stared at her, his eyes filling with remorse. “Shit. I…” He groaned. “I didn’t mean that. I was just…jealous.” He looked surprised by the confession. “I want to be the one holding you at night, not him. Me.” He jabbed a finger at his chest.

  What? Meg’s heart skipped a beat. Zach was jealous of Curtis? She’d never in a million years expected him to say that. Ha! If he only had a clue…

  She should correct him, tell him who Curtis really was, but she was so hurt and angry that he thought so lowly of her that she decided to just let him think whatever he wanted.

  To hell with him! It didn’t matter that he was the first man she’d ever felt this strong attraction to, or that he’d just admitted he wanted to hold her...

  Her breath caught at the thought. A night—even a minute—in Zach’s arms was sure to be heavenly.

  But he’d insulted her, damn him.

  She lifted her chin. “I. Said. Leave.” She pointed in the general direction of his house. “Go home. You’re going to have a heck of a time making amends to Kristen. And don’t even think about trying to get back in my good graces after insulting me like that.”

  He let out a soft groan. Then he sank down onto the porch steps and ran his hands over his face. “Shit,” he whispered. “What am I going to do now?” He stared off into the forest for a long moment. “I can lead my battalion through Iraqi gunfire and not lose my cool. I can run a sheriff’s department and keep peace in the county. But I can’t figure out how to raise a fourteen-year-old girl. When it comes to my daughter, I’m clueless.” He paused, lifted his gaze to hers. “And I just acted like an idiot.�
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  Meg stared at him. She’d never seen him like this before. He’d always been so in control. Now he appeared lost. Vulnerable. Dammit, he was human after all. Her heart softened just a bit. What did she do now? Should she march into her house and slam the door, leaving him alone to figure it out? Or should she join him on the back step and try to help him with Kristen?

  She let out an inner groan. Despite her hurt feelings, she wanted to help him. He really was pathetic when it came to raising his daughter. He needed some guidance there. Not that she was an expert, but she knew better than to react the way he’d just done. He needed to learn to give Kristen a little space.

  Without a word, Meg lowered herself down onto the step next to him, careful not to bang her cast on the side rail. He turned to her in surprise. She stared out into the pine forest behind her house, ignoring him for the moment. She was still too mad to speak. And so hurt by his low opinion of her that she was afraid she might start crying if she looked at him and saw tenderness in his eyes. She knew he was sorry. She could feel it just by sitting next to him. Why did she have to care so much about him?

  He reached for her uninjured hand, pulling it into his lap. Meg tried to pull her hand back, but he wouldn’t let her go.

  “Not yet,” he whispered. “If this is the only way I’ll get to touch you, I’m going to take advantage of it. It doesn’t hurt. See? It’s kind of nice.”

  She glanced over at his lap where her hand was cradled in his. Heat flooded into her cheeks. It did feel good to touch him. Even if he had been a jerk a moment ago.

  She lifted her gaze to his. His eyes were filled with the tenderness she expected, but also with remorse. “I don’t know why I acted like that,” he muttered. “I’m sorry. I guess I just haven’t…cared about anyone in so long. Will you forgive me?”

  His sincerity was almost her undoing. Was he saying he cared about her? Meg jerked her gaze away. If she kept staring into his eyes, she’d give in. And she was still mad at him. “Why do you always think the worst of me?” She choked the words out, embarrassed when her throat tightened and a tear trickled down her cheek. She never cried. Never.

  “I don’t think the worst of you,” he whispered. “You just frustrate me because you don’t trust me enough to tell me what’s going on with you. Why won’t you trust me? Why won’t you tell me your real name?”

  Meg lowered her gaze. She didn’t answer.

  He sighed. “Normally I’m more in control.” He let out a bitter laugh. “How long do you think they’d let me be sheriff if I attacked every criminal the way I just did Curtis?” He looked out into the trees for a moment. “Do you think maybe…maybe you could help me with Kristen? Teach me how to talk to her? I don’t have a clue even where to begin with her. This father thing is so new to me.”

  Meg swallowed hard, forcing the lump from her throat. He was asking her for help? What did she say?

  “First,” she began quietly, “you need to give the girl a little space. Trust her to make the right decisions. How can you expect her to learn if you never let her make a mistake? People learn from making mistakes, not from being forced to do everything perfect all the time.”

  Zach turned her hand over in his lap, gently stroked his finger across her palm. A jolt of electricity coursed through her and she forced herself not to jerk her hand away. No man had ever touched her like that before. She’d never allowed a man get this close to her.

  “You’re right,” he said. “I’m way overprotective of her. I need to learn to give her some space.”

  Meg cleared her throat. “And you need to stop being so judgmental of people. Curtis would never hurt her. He’s a gentle soul, even if he’s a little mixed up.”

  Zach didn’t respond to that. He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against her palm. “You have pretty hands,” he observed. “Soft and feminine, small…yet also strong and capable.”

  Her heart pounded. He was doing that again. Getting too close. She needed some space. Meg yanked her hand back into her lap, tucking it between her thighs.

  He let out a soft groan. “Why do you keep pushing me away? Why are you so afraid to get close to me?” His gaze was intense as it probed hers. “Am I that scary?” He let out a snort. “I mean, seriously, you trust that guy?” He waved an arm toward her house. “A drug addict? But not me? I’ll bet he knows more about you than I do.”

  How did she answer that? Of course Curtis knew her better. He knew her almost as well as Evan did. She was embarrassed to learn that Curtis was doing drugs on her back porch, even though he’d promised her he wouldn’t. But she couldn’t send him away. He’d saved her life yesterday. If he hadn’t interrupted the exchange, she would be at Larry’s mercy right now. She shuddered at the thought.

  “I owe him,” she whispered. “He saved my life.”

  Zach was silent a moment, absorbing that information. He looked hurt that she trusted Curtis and not him.

  She wanted to trust him. She really did. But he was so big and strong and so good looking, and he was a cop. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He sat on the third step, his arms resting on his muscular thighs, staring off into the trees. His tank top gaped away from his sides, revealing hard, toned pecs. He bent his arm, lifting it to rake a hand through his hair. Her gaze followed the movement, watching as muscles bunched in his bicep, then slid over to his strong, handsome face and hard, chiseled jaw. The man exuded raw power and sex appeal, his masculinity snaring her and reeling her in.

  He turned his head toward her, as if he sensed her watching him. His gaze locked on hers.

  Meg’s heart slammed into her ribs. What would it be like if he kissed her? If she didn’t jerk away this time? A mixture of fear and excitement slithered through her. Or what if she kissed him?

  His gaze impaled hers. “Kim?”

  She cleared her throat. She yanked her gaze away. Had he sensed her indecision? Her desire to touch, yet her fear to get too close? Drawing in a deep breath, she closed her eyes and stared down at her lap. Meg pushed the breath back out of her lungs and rose to her feet.

  “Good night, Zach.” She turned and headed for the back door.

  He snagged her wrist, bringing her to a halt. Her heart pounding, she turned and met his gaze.

  “The next time you look at me like that,” he said, his gaze intense on hers, “I won’t let you run away.”

  They stared at each other while her heart galloped wildly in her chest and her breath grew shallow. His eyes slowly darkened, heated, turning a deep purplish-gray.

  She cleared her throat. “Is that a threat?”

  What the hell? Had she just said that?

  Something that looked like surprise flickered across his face. Then his eyes darkened even more. “Do you want it to be?” he whispered. His gaze shot to her mouth.

  Her heart hammered. What the hell was she doing? She didn’t know if it was bravery or stupidity that made her challenge, “If I ever look at you like that again, you better not let me run away.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she cringed. Yanking her arm from his grasp, she pulled open the screen door and darted inside the house.

  Dear God, had she just challenged him? She took a deep breath and leaned against the wall next to the door. She’d never said anything like that to a man before. What was the matter with her? She didn’t know a thing about men or sexual games. But she’d more or less just dared him to chase her, to kiss her...

  Zach swore softly from out on the porch. Then…silence.

  Meg leaned away from the wall and peered out the screen door in time to see him walking away. She groaned. How would she ever face him again after practically daring him to kiss her the next time he saw her? She’d have to make sure she stayed away from him. Because if he kissed her, she feared she wouldn’t try to stop him. That instead she’d kiss him back. And then he’d think she wanted more, that he had the right to make love to her.

  And the thought of allowing a man that much liberty with he
r body terrified her. She’d “married” Evan because she’d known he would never expect sex from her, because he was safe. They’d had an agreement.

  But now Evan was gone. And she was no longer safe.

  Zach Sullivan was as different from Evan as…as he was from her. Zach was extremely masculine, big, strong, hard, muscular…a complete opposite from her tiny, feminine, five-foot-two-inch frame. He was everything she was scared of and all the things she dreamed about.

  Zach was the most dangerous man she’d ever met. Not because she believed he would hurt her. Because she knew he was attracted to her.

  And she was attracted to him.

  If he was any other man, she wouldn’t be worried, because she knew her tics would run him off and he’d soon lose interest. But not Zach. He didn’t seem to care about her condition. That alone made him amazing. He was the only person besides Evan or Curtis who wasn’t freaked out by her tics. No other man had ever tempted her like this before. Her feelings were so up and down when he was around. He confused her, pissed her off, and whenever he got too close, her heart went wild and her skin grew hot. He scared the hell out of her, yet she craved his nearness, craved his touch, even though the thought of his hands on her terrified her...

  She was so confused. She didn’t know what to do about him.

  Meg knew what he wanted from her. It was the same thing all men wanted from women.

  Sex.

  But no matter how attracted she was to him, she was scared to death of letting him touch her that way. She couldn’t surrender to him. No matter what. She had to stop this attraction that was growing between them.

  Because she could never give Zach what she feared he wanted.

  * * *

  Kristen was sitting on the front steps when Zach made it home. He stopped at the bottom of the porch and studied her. She ignored him, staring off into the pines. Tears streaked her cheeks. Regret stabbed through him. Regret that he’d hurt this girl who was his daughter, this girl he didn’t know much of anything about. It was time he did something about that.

  Zach sank down onto the porch step next to her. She cast an angry glance at him and scooted away until the railing stopped her. Pretending not to notice her aversion to him, Zach took a moment gathering his thoughts.