How Cat Got a Life

by Tatiana March

  “Catherine Bridgewater, I’m arresting you for attempting to leave the state with pending criminal charges against you.”

  “I…” Words failed her, and for a crazy moment Cat wanted to roll her eyes, the way Karen usually did.

  “Did you understand that you wouldn’t be allowed to leave?”

  His gaze met hers. In the hard amber glint, a burning fury flickered, and she understood that his question was personal.

  “I was going to come back,” she said in a whisper.

  “That’s not the way it works. You break the rules, you stay to face the consequences.” Brock reached out, took the tote from her shoulder, and slapped the cuffs around her wrists. Turning to the stewardess, he asked, “Can you bring her bags?”

  “Yes.” The girl picked up the trolley case and the tote that Brock had dumped on the floor. Her eyes darted between them, wide with curiosity.

  Brock led Cat down the steps from the plane, a strong hand curled around her upper arm to make sure she didn’t stumble. An airport security vehicle waited on the tarmac. He ushered her inside and sat beside her.

  “Let’s go,” he said to the uniformed guard at the wheel. “My car is by the short stay entrance ramp.”

  “I can explain—” Cat stole a glance at his stony features.

  “Later.”

  In silence, they weaved along the service roads until they reached the multi-story parking.

  “Over there.” Brock pointed at the blue and white patrol car carelessly parked on the verge. Big letters spelled “Sheriff” on the side. A pair of security guards waited by the vehicle, and a third man with something hanging around his neck was rushing down the slope of the entrance ramp.

  Cat shrank back in the seat as she saw the marked vehicle and the audience. The full extent of her public humiliation broke through her preoccupation over what was happening between her and Brock.

  They pulled to a stop behind the patrol car, and Brock helped her out. The two security guards got in the back seat they had vacated and the airport vehicle drove off. The third man stayed, halting ten yards away from them.

  Brock propped her to stand with her back against the side of the patrol car and caged her in with his arms. “Why were you running off? If you wanted to leave after you got what you wanted, I expected you to have the courtesy to say thank you and goodbye before you went chasing after more sexual thrills.”

  “What are you talking about?” Her brows drew together.

  “That’s what Dalton planned when he asked me to take you out. He wanted me to give you confidence, awaken you, so that you’d find it easier to start dating other men when you got home.”

  Her jaw dropped.

  Brock leaned in until they were nose to nose. “Let me tell you this. You’re going nowhere, my sweet, at least not until you’ve served every second of your eighty hours. And, as long as I’m around, I don’t expect you to date any other man, not if you want to sleep in my bed again. Is that clear?”

  Beneath her shock at his angry outburst, a wheel of joy began to spin. The harsh growl and the narrowed eyes were symptoms of pure masculine jealousy, an affliction that sprung from possessive love.

  Which could only mean that he cared for her.

  In that instant, Cat threw herself in the current of emotion she had tried to resist. She was tired of trying to cope on her own, tired of being the resilient one whose role was to alleviate the suffering of others and keep shaky finances afloat. She wanted to bask in the strength and heat that emanated from Brock as he trapped her against the side of the patrol car.

  “You ought to know better than that,” she said in a low voice. “As long as you’ll have me, other men won’t even exist in my eyes.”

  “What do you want from me?” he said. The tone of his voice her told her she wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than complete honesty.

  “Everything a man can give to a woman. For the rest of my life.”

  “Then why?” He drew a deep breath, blew it out again. “Why did you just take off without letting me know, without making any arrangements to meet up again?”

  “I have no money,” she told him quietly. “I couldn’t pay the hotel if I stayed another night. I didn’t want to risk putting a blemish on your reputation by getting into trouble over unpaid bills.”

  “You have no money?” He shook his head in confusion. “But you look like a million dollars. When you first appeared in my office, I took you for some trust fund princess. The way you dress…and LaSalle isn’t a cheap school.”

  “I’ve never been rich. I just happen to have a conservative taste in clothes and I was brought up to buy good quality that lasts.” Cat gave a tired shrug as she launched into an explanation of her strained circumstances. “My late husband had his own business, importing and distributing light fittings. I thought he was well off. When he died, I discovered that he’d been neglecting everything in the final year. There was a warehouse full of inventory but no shipments had been made. Suppliers were waiting to be paid but customers hadn’t been invoiced. It has taken me a year to unravel it. That’s why I haven’t been looking for a job. Sorting out the mess has occupied me full time. It’s done now. The debts have been paid and the business has been wound up. We were left with a small condo, which is in Dalton’s name, and our personal possessions.”

  He scowled at her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I couldn’t.” Humiliation heated her skin. “What would it have looked like if I slept with you and the next day I asked you for money?”

  “It would have looked like you needed help, and I was the most logical person to turn to.”

  “I didn’t want to give the impression that I can’t handle my own affairs. I didn’t want you to think I’d be a burden, someone who dumped problems on you.”

  “Oh, sweetheart.” He kept one hand propped against the side of the car and moved the other hand to cup her chin. “You should have come to me.”

  She met his gaze. ‘I wanted to…so badly.’

  Brock lowered his head and kissed her gently. “Let’s go home,” he said when he raised his head.

  Love surged inside her at his tenderness and support. Cat opened her mouth to blurt out how she felt, but a flash of movement caught her eye. The man who had stayed behind when the security guards drove off held something high in his hands, something shiny and black.

  “Brock, I think there’s a man pointing a gun at us,” she whispered and gestured with a discreet tilt of her head.

  He turned to look over his shoulder. “No. That’s Seth Williams from the Echo, and that thing he’s holding is a camera.”

  “A camera?” Cat closed her eyes and groaned.

  “Let’s give him a good one,” Brock said. He swung her out from his shelter, wrapped his arms around her, and proceeded to give her a kiss that made her forget everything but him.

  ****

  Cat opened her eyes. Brock surrounded her with his heat, one arm folded across her waist, a powerful leg thrown over hers. The sun was coming up, the brightness filtering in through a gap between the curtains. She glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside. Almost eight.

  “Brock?” She shifted against him.

  His lips grazed her shoulder. “Not yet.”

  “We’ll be late for work.”

  “I arranged to go in late.”

  “Oh? In that case...” She wriggled around in his arms and slid her hands up the ridged muscles on his chest.

  “No,” he said. “I told you, not yet.”

  Troubled, she frowned at him. He’d said the same thing last night. They didn’t get back until midnight, and she’d expected him to take her fast and hard, to seal the ownership he’d implied but never bluntly declared. Instead, he sent her to bed and retreated into his den, making telephone calls. When he finally came upstairs, he cradled her to sleep in his arms, saying he preferred to wait until morning.

  Didn’t he want her after all? Had it just been about male pride? N
ow that she’d revealed how much she needed him, had he lost interest in her? Was the whole mad chase to the airport only so that he could be the one doing the rejecting, instead of being the one left behind?

  “Aha. I think it’s arrived.” He flung the covers aside and got out of bed. Splendid in his nakedness, radiating power, he strode across the room and turned to look back at her from the door.

  “Stay there,” he ordered.

  Cat waited with worry threading along her nerves.

  A smile tugged at Brock’s lips when he returned. He tossed a folded newspaper into her lap and climbed back in bed, settling on his side, one hand idly drifting along the curve of her hip.

  “I’ve never made love without a condom,” he said in a husky tone. “In my college days it was for safety, and while I was married birth control would have interfered with other medication. That’s why I wanted to wait until morning.”

  Excitement tugged in her belly, both at the thought of feeling him deep inside her, no barrier separating them, and at the hidden meaning in his words. No birth control meant the possibility of pregnancy. And the prospect of a child meant…her mind refused to contemplate any further.

  “Read it out loud,” Brock prompted. “Front page.”

  Cat unfolded the paper and gasped. A picture of Brock holding her in his arms took up half the space.

  She was staring up at him, and his lips were about to meet hers. Handcuffs encircled her wrists, and the patrol car featured prominently in the background. No doubt remained of the fact that she’d been under arrest when he kissed her.

  With a strangled voice, Cat began to read.

  SHERIFF APPREHENDS ESCAPED PRISONER

  Our brave sheriff Brock Leonetti was yesterday forced to delay a flight in order to prevent a fugitive from escaping the state. Catherine Bridgewater, 33, of New Hampshire, had been repeatedly apprehended under the local statutes and sentenced to community service in the sheriff’s office. She fled without serving her punishment in full. A reliable source confirms that as a result of her failed escape attempt, her sentence has been increased to life without parole. When the paperwork for her conviction is completed, she will be known as Mrs. Brock Leonetti. We congratulate the sheriff for having successfully detained this persistent offender, and we trust that she will make no further attempt to climb up the Town Hall, at least not on the outside.

  Her eyes narrowed. “A reliable source?”

  “Seth Williams who runs the paper called me to check if I was happy for him to print the photograph.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  “I said fine. Saves the cost of an engagement announcement. I want to move to a bigger house where we’ll have room for kids, so money will be tight for a while.”

  Cat felt a smile tugging at her lips but made an attempt to look stern. “Haven’t you forgotten something?”

  “Like what?”

  “I haven’t agreed to marry you.”

  “Yes you have, sweetheart. I told you I don’t approve of sex outside of marriage. The moment you stripped off your clothes and set about seducing me, you accepted the consequences.”

  “I did no such thing!”

  “You most certainly did.” He paused for a reassuring kiss. “I love you, and you love me, so getting married is the logical thing to do.”

  “You…love me?”

  Brock propped on his elbow and traced her cheek with one fingertip. “Every time I see you, it feels like the sun has come out. I’ve lived in shadows for so long, I want to hurtle head first into the happiness that I know you can give me. I see no reason to wait and get to know you better. I already recognize you as my missing half, in my heart and deep in my bones. I want it all now.”

  “But…” The cautious side of her protested, tried to remind her how badly things had gone wrong before. “Shouldn’t we take things slowly, make sure?”

  “No. I’m in too much of a rush. I’ve already waited all night so I can make love to you without protection.” He rolled over, covering her body with his, and captured her lips in a deep kiss.

  Her legs rose to wrap around his waist.

  Brock entered her in a single thrust and sucked in a harsh breath. “Jesus. I never knew how good it would feel. You can forget about condoms from now on, until we have at least four kids.”

  Love flooded her. Tears shimmered in her eyes, and she reached up to tangle her fingers in his hair, holding him close.

  Cat recalled the envy that had knifed through her when she first saw Brock Leonetti.

  He’s the sort of man who has four sons just like him, adores his wife, and on his days off they all romp around the backyard.

  It would all be true.

  She would be the wife he adored, and she would give him those sons.

  Tatiana March writes contemporary and historical romance, as well as romantic suspense.

  In her spare time, Tatiana enjoys hiking and camping, particularly in Arizona where some of her historical novels are set.

  Tatiana lives in Buckinghamshire in the UK.

  You can read more about Tatiana and her books on www.tatianamarch.com

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