Her teeth clenched together as she tried to hold the smile. “Great.”
Not great. So not great.
Heart pounding in her chest, she tried to effect an air of calm. Hard to do when terror made every limb tremble. Could he hear her uneven breathing? Gees, she sounded like a Lamaze patient.
But, once he fingerprinted her, it would all be over. Her wanted poster would come up, and Ryder would hand her in. Just like David wanted. No matter what she said, no one would believe her. She would go to prison for Jen’s murder, and David would forever play the grieving boyfriend.
She couldn’t let that happen. Ryder could not discover who she was. She had to run, as soon as possible.
Chapter 4
Amnesia my ass.
Kayla was a terrible liar. Even if he hadn’t been good at spotting frauds—a handy skill he picked up in the police academy—Ryder would have seen through this woman’s fabrications.
Her story sounded like the plot of one of those daytime TV soaps his mother enjoyed. Memory problems were always convenient. No, Kayla was running from something, that much was clear. Something…or someone.
Poor woman damn near jumped out of her skin when he mentioned he was the sheriff. So, she had a problem with law enforcement? She didn’t look like a criminal. Then again, in the decade or so he’d been on the force, he learned looks could be deceiving. No one had ever suspected the actual culprit who sabotaged Maggie’s cupcake shop. A pretty face could often hide deceitful acts. And Kayla had one of the prettiest faces he’d ever seen.
Shit. He had to stop thinking along those lines. This woman could be a bank robber for all he knew. He couldn’t think with his little head. Not until he knew who she was and why she was so wary of…everything.
She was afraid, that much he could see. Of being caught? No matter how hard he tried, Ryder couldn’t see this woman as a criminal. Maybe he was thinking with his dick, but she didn’t give off the bad guy vibe. Didn’t mean he wasn’t going to check her out. He had a duty to protect the people of his town.
Kayla gathered the breakfast dishes, bringing them to the sink.
“Don’t worry about those,” he said as she started to fill the sink with soapy water. “I’ll take care of them.”
She sent him a small smile, a genuine one, nearly knocking him on his ass. Damn, the woman truly was beautiful.
“You rescued me last night, gave me a warm place to sleep, and cooked me breakfast this morning. The least I can do is wash the dishes.”
She looked determined, so he didn’t argue. Instead, he asked, “Want me to run you a hot bath?”
A small moan escaped her lips. Every nerve ending in his body sat up and took notice at the sensual sound. The semi-hard he’d been sporting since he saw her this morning turned into a full-blown erection, straining against his zipper as he imagined her making those soft, sweet, noises while he thrust into her.
Dammit. The image was so vivid he could taste it.
Ryder cleared his throat. “I’ll take that as a yes?”
“I would love a hot bath.” She didn’t turn as she spoke, still scrubbing away at the dishes.
“Just come down the hall when you’re done. First door on the left.”
He turned then, before he did something embarrassing like pull her into his arms and see if he could get her to make more of those boner-inspiring moans.
What is wrong with me?
His reaction to this woman was strange. He wasn’t sure he liked it. He knew nothing about her—except she was lying to him—and yet he still wanted her. And not just in a sexual way. There was something about Kayla that made him want to protect her, care for her. Something deep inside told him this woman was connected to him on a level he couldn’t fathom.
The thought was scary as hell.
Without another word, he headed down the hallway to the bathroom. He twisted the taps, waited until the temp was hot but not scalding, and filled the tub. Glancing around, he spotted some lavender bubble bath his sister had left last time she visited.
Women liked bubble baths, right?
His sister sure did, so he figured Kayla would enjoy them, too.
He poured the floral-scented gel into the bath, watching as the running water turned it into white, foamy bubbles filling the round tub.
Why am I doing this?
He should be interrogating this woman in town. Not pampering her with breakfast and bubble baths.
“Oh, wow.”
The soft exclamation came from behind him. He turned and saw the mysterious woman currently turning his brain to mush.
“Perfect timing.” He turned off the faucet as the tub finished filling. “It’s all ready.”
“You drew me a bubble bath?”
Her brow drew down in confusion. At his consideration, or the fact that he, a man, had bubble bath?
“Yeah.” Ryder rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed now by his overt efforts. “My, uh, sister likes bubble baths. So I figured…”
“Thank you,” she said with a small grin. “That’s very sweet of you.”
Sweet? No one but his mother had ever called him sweet before. Nice, sure. Fun and charming had been whispered by a few ladies, but sweet? No one thought of a sheriff as sweet.
“Well, enjoy.” He made a hasty exit from the room.
While Kayla was occupied in her bath, he planned to do what he should have done from the start. Try to discover who she was.
Making his way to the small office at the back of the house, Ryder booted up his computer and connected to the station’s system. Peak Town may be a small mountain community, but they still had twenty-first century technology. He logged in and ran a missing person search using Kayla’s description and first name.
Female, mid-twenties—he was guessing on that—approximately five-five, one hundred and thirty—again guessing—short brown hair that looked like someone had taken a weed whacker to it, hazel eyes. Amazing, hazel eyes that turned his brain into Silly Putty.
There was no box for the last description.
After a few minutes, the computer dinged with the results. Ryder scowled.
Zero. No Matches Found.
Not a missing person. Looked like he was going to have to interrogate Kayla after all.
****
He made me a bubble bath.
Kayla soaked in the warm, sweet smelling water. She didn’t understand Ryder. He didn’t buy her “I can’t remember” story. No big surprise there—she had never been a very good liar, and the man was obviously no idiot. But, if he knew she was lying, why didn’t he call her on it? Haul her downtown and lock her up ’til she talked? He could do it.
Sheriff, ugh!
Running from one cop right smack into another. How about that for crappy luck?
At least this one wasn’t trying to frame her for murder. Though, the second he discovered her real identity, he might turn her over to the one who was.
She shouldn’t be soaking in his tub; she needed to make her escape. But her limbs were finally warm. No reason she couldn’t bathe and plan, right?
A shame, really. Another time, different circumstances, she would have loved to stay. Jake Ryder was one sexy sheriff. Kind, too. As evidenced by breakfast and the bubble bath currently pruning her body. If only they could have met in a bar or at a mutual friend’s party. Only, that never would have happened. They lived states away. Highly unlikely they would have met if she hadn’t been on the run.
Something deep inside whispered a denial.
Kayla had never been very religious. Hard to follow specific church teachings when you went to a different church every year. A lot of her foster families were Christian, but the denominations always changed. Catholic, Protestant, Baptist. She even stayed with a Universal Unitarian once. Foster kids quickly learned to believe whatever the person who fed you at the moment told you. Otherwise, you might not get fed.
Once she was on her own, she stopped going to church. She did believe in some kind
of higher power; she just wasn’t sure what it was. God, the Universe, Space Aliens. Okay, probably not aliens. Whatever was out there, did it lead her to this man?
Too bad she couldn’t stick around to find out. She had to keep moving. There was no other option. Maybe, if she was lucky, the universe would put her and Ryder together again. When they weren’t on opposite sides of the law.
A soft knock pulled her from her thoughts.
“You doing okay in there?” Ryder’s deep voice carried through the solid oak door.
“Yup. I’m just about done.” Only then did she realize the water had cooled. How long had she sat in here musing?
“I left some clothes for you right outside the door.”
There he went again with the thoughtfulness. “Thanks.”
“Come into the living room when you’re dressed, and we’ll talk some more.”
Talk, yeah right. She’d heard the shift in his tone. Thoughtful Ryder had been replaced with Sheriff Ryder. The man flew back and forth between the two so fast it gave her whiplash.
Kayla pulled the rubber tub stopper. Cold, sudsy water swirled down the drain. She rose, grabbing one of the soft, terry cloth towels hanging from the wall rack. Drying quickly, she stepped out of the tub. Making sure the towel was secured tightly around her, she opened the door a crack and peeked out. The hallway was empty, but as promised, a pile of clothing lay on the ground in front of the bathroom door.
She grabbed it and quickly shut the door again. A pair of woman’s jeans, a light blue T-shirt and a beautiful gray, cashmere sweater.
Why did Ryder have women’s clothing so readily available? Was he married? Dating someone? Ten minutes ago, she had been pondering the strange connection she felt to this man…and she hadn’t even questioned if he was single. This running for her life thing was really messing with her head.
She removed her towel and started to dress. He’d provided no underwear or bra, but that was just as well. Borrowing clothes was one thing. Borrowing undergarments? Ew! No thank you. She’d go commando.
Kayla went to wrap her hair in the towel, then remembered she no longer had long locks which required the standard female turban towel wrap. Least of her issues at the moment, but still, feminine vanity tightened her chest; she missed her long hair. A quick rub of the towel on her head and her short, dyed hair was almost dry. Guess that made one positive thing about this whole situation. Normally, her hair took hours to dry if she didn’t blow it out.
The bathroom door creaked as she opened it. “Ryder?”
“In the living room,” he called.
Right, he’d told her that’s where he would be. Toeing on the borrowed slippers from this morning, she made her way down the hall. A crackling fire roared in the fireplace. It smelled homey and gave the room a toasty, warm feel.
“Looks like everything fit okay.”
Ryder gave her a smile, making her knees go a little weak. “Yes, thank you.” She cleared her throat and tried for casual. “Do these clothes belong to your wife?”
His grin widened. “Not married.”
“Girlfriend?” she tried again.
Chocolate brown eyes danced with mischief. “Nope.”
Was he being obtuse on purpose? Her brow furrowed as she thought of other possibilities of the readily available women’s clothing. No wife, no girlfriend. Did he have a string of women parading around his house? So many that he had to keep spare clothing on hand?
He chuckled at her pathetic attempts of subtlety. “They’re my sister’s. Julie lives in Aspen, but comes to stay with me from time to time. She leaves a few spare changes of clothes in the guest room in case she ever stays the night unexpectedly.”
Right, the closet where she got the slippers and sweater this morning. Her mind drifted back to the picture on the dresser, the one of Ryder standing with his arm around a woman who looked like him. His sister; she’d been right.
“I hope she doesn’t mind.”
He waved a hand in the air. “Naw. Julie’s always willing to help out a person in need. It’s kind of what she does for a living.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. She’s a lawyer.”
Lawyer? A sheriff and a lawyer, all in one family. Great. Ryder could arrest her, and his sister could prosecute. This running away thing was going swimmingly—too bad she never learned to swim.
“I wanted to talk a little more about your memory problems.”
Here it comes. She swallowed past the lump of fear clogging her throat.
“I did a missing persons search.”
Oh shoot!
Her pulse skyrocketed. Biting the inside of her cheek to keep from hyperventilating, she waited.
“I figured someone might be looking for you.”
Yeah. The entire Chicago PD.
“Came up empty. No Kaylas matching your description missing in the area.”
She faked a yawn, covering her sigh of relief. Technically, she wasn’t a missing person. She was a wanted person. And she had changed her “description” because of her wanted status. The information on her must not have left Illinois yet. She prayed it stayed that way until she had a chance to sneak away.
“We’ll go to the station tomorrow and run your prints.” Ryder stared intently at her. His gaze compelled her to spill her secrets.
No such luck, buddy. Amnesia. That was her story, and she was sticking to it.
“They should turn up something.”
“Sounds good.” No it didn’t. Sounded like her doom. Which was why she would not be here tomorrow. “I think I’ll go lay down for a bit. I’m still pretty tired.”
He nodded, but she could see his intelligent cop brain working behind those bedroom eyes. It really was too bad they had to meet like this. Her last relationship ended six months ago, and three days ago she’d decided she was ready to end her dry spell. Ryder would’ve been the perfect man to end it with. But now, she was on the run from the cops, which he just so happened to be. Perhaps in another life they could have gotten together, had some fun, maybe even developed something lasting.
Longing ached in her chest. She tucked her hands behind her back to keep from reaching out for some physical comfort, human connection. A hopeless sigh escaped her as she turned to leave. Right now, she had to focus on this life, because if she wasn’t careful. She might not have it for long.
Chapter 5
The sun had sunk behind the western mountains when the sounds of Kayla moving about came from his guest room. Whether she had been sleeping or avoiding him, he didn’t know.
He’d tried his search again. Widening the parameters, but still came up empty. If she was missing, no one had reported her as such.
A sad situation, in his opinion.
Ryder knew if he didn’t show up for work people would start asking for his whereabouts. And not just because he was the sheriff. His sister would call in the National Guard if he missed a call from her and failed to return it after a reasonable amount of time.
When their mother died, Julie had taken it upon herself to make sure he was eating right, getting enough sleep, and in general good health. Her mothering struck him as funny, because she was four years his junior. He had been the one who stepped up after their dad died, became the man of the house as much as he could. Got a job, fixed things that needed tending to, threatened any boy who got within six inches of his sweet, innocent, baby sister. Now, Julie had turned the tables and taken on the parental roll. He knew how much she missed their mother, so he let it slide for the most part. It made him sad to think Kayla had no one who cared for her enough to report her missing.
“Something sure smells good.”
I think of her, and she arrives.
“Looks like I slept through lunch.” She gave him a sheepish smile, wrinkling her nose. “Sorry. Guess I was more tired than I thought.”
She looked like she just got out of bed—clothes rumpled, hair mussed. It conjured up images of her in his bed. He’d like to peel the wrinkl
ed clothing from her, muss her hair up even more as he sank into her sweet, warm body. Drive her wild with pleasure. Maybe even hear a few sexy, little moans as she came apart in his arms.
Oh, yeah. There’s an image he liked. A little too much, judging by the tightening in his pants.
He turned back to the stove and stirred the stew, mentally telling his raging libido to behave. “Don’t worry about it. You needed to recover.”
“So…um, what did you do all day while I slept?”
A glance over his shoulder revealed Kayla’s gaze darting about the place.
Looking for something, sweetheart? Wondering if I’ve been checking into you?
Not that it had done him any good. Focusing his own gaze on the task at hand, he answered, “Tended to Wind Chaser, did a little reading.”
A sigh of relief sounded behind him, and he wondered if she would still be relieved if she knew his reading consisted of Internet searches for a missing woman named Kayla.
Probably not.
“What’s that?” she asked, coming to stand beside him.
His entire body tensed with anticipation when her arm brushed against his. He never reacted this way to a woman before. There had been women he lusted after, cared about, one he even thought he loved, but none of them hit him on such a primal level. This was crazy. He didn’t even know this woman.
“It’s cowboy stew. My dad’s recipe.”
“Smells amazing. Can I help with anything?”
She could help with the rapidly rising problem in his jeans.
“Sure. You can set the table. Bowls are in that cupboard.” He pointed to the cabinet beside the sink. “Spoons in the drawer below.”
Kayla moved off to gather the dishes, and he let out a sigh of reprieve. How was he going to discover who this woman was when every time he got close to her he wanted to rip off her clothes and take her on the nearest flat surface? Or round surface. Up against the wall…hell, he didn’t care. He just wanted her.
Obviously, it had been too long since he got laid if a potential criminal got him all hot and bothered.
“Drinks?”
“Milk and iced tea in the fridge,” he replied. “Beer, too. Sorry, I don’t have any wine or anything.” His sister always brought wine when she came up. Said beer tasted bitter. Never tasted bitter to him.
Love on the Risky Side Page 3
