Cajun Sheriff

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Cajun Sheriff Page 1

by Brandi Michaels




  Warning:

  The following material contains strong sexual content meant for mature readers. THE CAJUN SHERIFF has been rated NC17, erotic, by three individual reviewers. We strongly suggest storing this electronic file in a place where young readers not meant to view this ebook are unlikely to happen upon it. That said, enjoy…

  Chapter 1

  Deidre woke slowly and stretched her arms toward the headboard. Her breasts pressed against the thin fabric of her t-shirt, nipples tingling at the slow brush of cloth. A smile curved her lips at the thought of her newfound freedom. Now that her deadline had been met, her life could return to a semblance of normalcy.

  That meant making slow, delicious love to Luc.

  The thought had her breasts swelling and the rest of her body throbbing with sweet anticipation. It had been weeks since they’d had time to get lost in each other’s arms, and she was suddenly feeling very primed and ready.

  Opening her eyes a little, she allowed the early morning sunlight to filter through her lashes as she turned toward Luc. But his side of the bed was cold and empty. Groaning, Deidre threw her head back against her pillow. She cupped her breasts with her palms, hoping to soothe the ache a little when what she really wanted was his hot lips on her flesh, his hard body pressing her into the mattress, his wildly greedy mouth kissing her into a frenzy of desire.

  A long, low moan escaped her. The sensual pleasure had to be put on hold again. Luc had obviously gone to work. As an elected official in the tiny town of Summersville, he often worked from dawn until dark. The townspeople depended on him and he never let them down—even when it meant putting his private life on the back burner. She knew it was petty, but sometimes she resented his steadfast dedication to his job.

  Now was one of those times.

  She hadn’t heard him leave this morning. After weeks of marathon workdays, she’d collapsed last night and slept like the dead. She vaguely remembered him kissing her goodnight and making some amorous suggestions, but she’d fallen asleep.

  A frown creased her brow. Luc hadn’t kissed her goodbye this morning. Did that mean he was totally fed up with her? Her chest constricted at the thought. He always kissed her goodbye no matter where he was going or for how long. On workdays, he woke her with a kiss on his way out the door. But not today. Had he forgotten or was there some significance in his altered routine?

  Guilt nagged at her. He was such a virile, hot-blooded male, and she’d been neglecting him. Lately, their sex life had amounted to a few quickies that satisfied the physical need, but left the emotional needs sorely untended. She silently swore to make it up to him in spades.

  Just the thought of wild, insatiable loving had her jumping out of bed and heading for the shower. As soon as she put her manuscript in the mail, she’d be free to arrange a serious seduction.

  * * * * *

  Nearly an hour later, Deidre stepped out of her comfortably air conditioned home into the torrid heat and humidity of Louisiana Bayou country. She’d buried herself in the house so long that she’d forgotten how oppressive the air could be at mid-day, and how blinding the sun. Within seconds, sweat seeped from her freshly scrubbed skin, making her instantly irritable.

  She hated to sweat. Born and raised in upstate New York, she’d never fully acclimatized herself to the constant, smothering heat of Luc’s home. Her economy car felt like an oven, increasing her discomfort and making her wonder how she’d ever let him sweet-talk her in to leaving her city lifestyle. Looking back, she supposed it had either been raging lust or some Voodoo magic spell.

  He’d promised her she’d get used to it and learn to love it. She hadn’t and she didn’t. Admittedly, she hadn’t tried very hard. During one of their increasingly frequent arguments, Luc had accused her of deliberately isolating herself and behaving like a damned Yankee. Whatever that meant. If it meant being comfortable and having things her way, wasn’t that a universal desire? Was she a bad person for not trying harder to fit into the cliquish, small town life he’d always known?

  A frown creased her brow as she put the car in gear and cranked up the AC. Her thick blond hair had seemed an asset in cooler climates but now it clung to her neck. It had grown past her shoulders, but Luc loved it so she didn’t have the heart to get it cut. Still, she wished she’d thought to bring a barrette or a claw.

  Thoughts of him had her remembering his latest accusations: that she pouted and deliberately lost herself in her writing to avoid reality; that she’d made no attempt to get to know his friends and neighbors; and, that she needed a life beyond her career. He loved children and had started hinting about starting a family.

  The thought scared the hell out of her. She’d figured to put off that discussion for whole lot longer. Even though they’d been married a year, sometimes it still felt like they were still strangers. They’d met and married in a whirlwind of passion. She’d been in New Orleans for a writing conference. He’d been there on Parish business. Love—or maybe lust at first sight—had brought them together. They’d danced and partied and made sweet, steamy love. By the end of the weekend, Luc had laid claim to her heart.

  Neither had wanted a long distance relationship. They’d considered living together on a trial basis, but her parents had freaked at that idea. So they’d taken the big step and made a lifetime commitment after knowing each other a few short weeks.

  They’d spent this past year trying to adjust to marriage while they were still getting acquainted. Both of them were very reserved about expressing their deepest needs and insecurities, so it hadn’t been an easy adjustment. They seemed incapable of pushing past that reserve. Sometimes she desperately wanted to reach out to him, but didn’t know how. These last six months had been volatile, at best. Their disagreements had increased steadily until their home sometimes resembled a battleground.

  Her problem with Luc was that he had some really old-fashioned views on the roles men and women should play in a marriage. He wanted her to be a homemaker who endeared herself to his family and friends. Who cooked and cleaned and made babies while he earned their keep. She couldn’t fault him for that. He worked hard and he deserved the best. She just wasn’t sure she could be his ideal wife without losing a part of herself.

  A natural introvert, her world had always revolved around her imagination. She wove stories in her mind and frequently forgot what day it was. Cooking and cleaning weren’t high on her list of priorities. She didn’t dislike either chore but she didn’t want to be identified by how well she could cook or how neat she kept the house. As for getting to know the neighbors, her inherent shyness made that a seemingly insurmountable challenge.

  Luc was proud of her achievements and her moderate success as a writer. Yet, deep down, she felt he resented her career even though he’d never admit it. When she tried to broach the subject, he refused to open up to her and she didn’t know how to draw him out of his shell. No matter how angry and frustrated he got, he never lost his temper. He prided himself for being a man in control at all times. Even when they made love. He never lost control. She sometimes wished he would.

  On the other hand, his tightly leashed restraint was a helluva sexual turn on for her. Just thinking about him made her squirm in her seat. Her nipples puckered, jutting against the lightweight cotton of her blouse.

  A smile flickered across her features as she imagined how shocked Vernia Rundell would be if she noticed her braless state. The aging post office clerk considered herself the decorum queen of Summersville. Rigid and too old-fashioned for words, she liked looking down her aristocratic nose at anyone who hadn’t been born and raised in the area. The community’s respect for Luc was the only thing that kept Deidre from being totally ostracized by the townspeople. The knowledge was like a splinter under
her skin; it just kept smarting.

  The five-mile drive to town only took a few minutes because mid-day traffic was non-existent. Thankfully, the parking lot of the post office was deserted as well. Most of the locals had sense enough to do their errands before or after the worst of the day’s heat. One more strike against the Yankee, thought Deidre, as she grabbed her package and dashed from the car’s air conditioning to the cool of the building.

  “Good day, Mrs. Luc.” Vernia greeted her as most of the local’s did—as an extension of her husband. At first, Deidre had found it charming. Now she wondered if any of them actually knew her first name.

  “Hello, Mrs. Rundell. I’d like to send this priority mail to New York,” she said, placing the bulky envelope on the counter.

  “Another love story?” asked the bespeckled clerk, her tone coming across as condescending.

  “Romantic suspense,” Deidre corrected, controlling her urge to snap. Everyone in town had a warped opinion of romance authors, yet she’d never met anyone who actually read the genre.

  “When will this one hit the bookshelves?”

  “It’s not scheduled for release until this time next year.”

  “Sarah Jacques was saying the library should have one of those author signings when your next book is released.”

  Deidre’s eyes widened in surprise. Even though she visited the library on a regular basis, Sarah had never mentioned promoting her work. Librarians and booksellers often snickered at paperback romances. Still, she didn’t doubt the truth of Vernia’s comment.

  “That sounds really nice. I haven’t done any signings for a while, so I’ll mention it the next time I’m at the library.”

  After paying the postage and putting her receipt in her wallet she exchanged goodbyes with Vernia and headed back out into the sauna-like heat. The blast of suffocating air dampened her elation at putting the manuscript in the mail. Then she had the misfortune to run into her least favorite person is all of Tyler Parish: Evangelina Merrick. The sultry redhead made no secret that she’d been Luc’s lover in the past and thoroughly intended to have him again in the future. The very near future.

  “Evangelina,” Deidre nodded a greeting and kept walking toward her car.

  “What’s your hurry?” asked Evangelina. “Any homegrown Cajun’ll tell you a person shouldn’t be rushin’ around in this heat.”

  Deidre paused and turned. She wanted to smack the smugness from the other woman’s face but she chose to ignore the deliberate reminder that she was an outsider. Even though she sometimes resented Luc’s position in the community, she tried not to do anything that would reflect poorly on him. She had no intention of providing fuel for gossip.

  “I’m sure you’re right. That’s why I’m anxious to get home.”

  “We haven’t seen you out and about much lately. Is that why Luc’s been actin’ so restless? Rumor has it he’s been on the prowl most nights.”

  Deidre wished she could call her a liar but there was enough truth in her suggestion to make her stomach churn. Clenching her hands into fists, she resisted the urge to attack Evangelina and scratch her eyes out. “You don’t have to worry about Luc,” she insisted with saccharine sweetness. “I’m planning to give him a lot of overdue TLC. I don’t expect he’ll be prowlin’ any time soon.”

  Evangelina made what could only be called a hissing sound but Deidre ignored her and climbed in her car. She exited the parking lot without a backward glance but the witch’s comments still had the power to wound her. Had Luc been on the prowl? He’d been leaving the house a lot in the evenings. She’d thought it was to give her more privacy to work. What if he’d been looking for someone to satisfy his physical needs? Had he been patient with her because he’d been getting what he needed from Evangelina? The thought made her sick to her stomach.

  Luc hadn’t kissed her goodbye this morning.

  Shaking her head to rid it of such thoughts, she decided to fill the car with gas and run it through the automatic car wash. After that, she went to the drive-thru carry out and bought a four-pack of her favorite wine coolers and some of Luc’s favorite beer. She smiled and made small talk with all the service people but didn’t run in to anyone else who expected her total attention.

  All she wanted to do was get back to her cozy little air-conditioned cottage, strip to her bikini briefs and have a long, cold drink. She had to get ready for her husband’s return home. She’d plan a night that he would never forget. At least, she’d try, though she doubted her ability to carry off a seduction that would amaze a sensual creature like Luc. She hoped he didn’t have to work late tonight. Since it was Friday, they’d have the whole weekend to sate themselves.

  The thought had her breasts aching again. The slight abrasion made her breasts swell and her flesh feel even hotter. Cranking up the car’s air-conditioner, she maneuvered through one of the town’s two stoplights. There was very little traffic on a normal day and even less in the heat of the afternoon. As soon as she hit the corporation limits, she punched down the accelerator. Then her thoughts returned to Luc. She caught her lip between her teeth, gnawing on it while worry gnawed on her mind.

  Their first wedding anniversary had come and gone while she’d been lost in a creative fog. He’d been patient and undemanding but she knew he couldn’t understand her obsessive tendencies and strange work habits. He’d been distant but that didn’t mean he’d lost interest in her and their relationship. Did it? Did he regret marrying a woman who could be maniacally obsessed about her work? His indifference didn’t mean he’d looked elsewhere for affection, did it?

  Before Deidre could work her way through her worries, a new one cropped up. The unmistakable blue strobe of a cruiser’s lights flashed in her rearview mirror, shocking her out of her reverie. There wasn’t another car in sight, so there was no question that the officer wanted her to pull over and stop.

  She quickly glanced down at the speedometer and realized she’d been a little too heavy on the accelerator. Still, she wasn’t driving that much over the limit. Was the sheriff having an especially slow day or could there be another reason for the unexpected stop? Her pulse skittered at the thought.

  Pulling carefully to the side of the road, she stopped the car but left the ignition running for the air conditioning. Then she watched in the rearview mirror as a tall, well-built man uncoiled himself from the cruiser. The standard khaki uniform clung to him in the heat, delineating extremely broad shoulders, a lean waist, muscled thighs and long, long legs. He wore a broad-rimmed hat that shadowed most of his face, but Deidre recognized the Summersville’s pride and joy—Sheriff Boudreaux—and her heart raced even faster.

  The man had quite a reputation; he was one of the gossipmonger’s favorite subjects. He’d gone from the town’s thrill loving, risk-taking, motorcycle-riding bad boy to its highest elected officer of the law. His status with the ladies was equally awesome. Considered the catch of the county, he had all the single women and half the married ones drooling over him. Deidre really couldn’t blame them. He was one fine specimen of manhood.

  As he approached the driver’s side of the car, she rolled down her window and squinted into the sunlight. He shifted his big body to block the sun so she could see him more clearly. Her breath hitched and her nerves turned into little hot wires of sensation that sizzled. She assured herself that any red-blooded woman would have the same reaction to such a hunk.

  The man was utterly gorgeous. Sex appeal rolled off him in waves that threatened to engulf anyone within touching distance. She was no exception. She might be married but she wasn’t dead.

  His coal-black hair, eyebrows and thick, spiky eyelashes made a striking frame for the deepest, darkest sapphire eyes she’d ever seen. He had a lean, tightly sculpted face with strong cheekbones, full-lips and a firm chin. The whole package spelled dynamite.

  “Hello, Sheriff.”

  “Mrs. Luc,” he said with a nod. “You seem to be in a powerful hurry.”

  “I didn’t r
ealize I was over the speed limit. I’m just eager to get home.”

  “You didn’t pay a little visit to the bar while you were in town, did you? You were swervin’ back and forth on the road.” He glanced toward the carry out bag on the passenger seat.

  Deidre frowned. “I bought some stuff at the drive-thru but I haven’t opened it. And I haven’t had a sip of alcohol!”

  “That’s what they all say, Sugar,” he grumbled in a thick Cajun accent. “Maybe you’d better step out of the car and walk a straight line for me.”

  “What?” His impassive expression didn’t give a clue to his intentions, but she couldn’t believe he was hassling her. “It’s hot out there,” she argued.

  His features tightened. Her comment appearing to annoy him rather than eliciting sympathy. He reached for the handle and swung open her door. The sun struck her in the face again while a wave of heat enveloped her. Silently groaning, she decided to do as he asked so that she could be on her way again. She switched off the ignition and climbed from the car.

  “I don’t know why you think I’d be drinking in town when I can be home in another few minutes!” she protested.

  “A citizen reported you were driving erratically.”

  Deidre snorted indignantly, thinking of Evangelina. “Was she on a broomstick?”

  The sheriff covered his mouth and muffled a cough. She stared at him hard, wishing she could tell if the cough was disguising a growl or a chuckle.

  “Pardon me,” he said.

  Then he closed her door and stepped closer, blocking the sun again. He slowly removed a notepad from his shirt pocket. He had big hands and long, thick fingers. Deidre didn’t want to think about how those hands might pleasure a woman. His prowess as a lover was notorious.

  Better not go there, she warned herself.

  Instead, she stared into his eyes. Their sapphire beauty nearly stole her breath. She saw her own reflection and shivered, wondering how many women their deep, dark beauty had mesmerized. For a long, pregnant moment, they took each other’s measure as sexual awareness vibrated between them. The air began to throb with sultry heat and the sexual tension between them was just as thick and heavy.

 

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