A Texan in Her Bed

by Sara Orwig

  Windows were broken and shutters hung awry if they still hung at all. Some lay on the porch.

  Chains hung where a porch swing had once been, he assumed. Moving carefully, stairs creaking beneath his weight, he climbed the stairs to the porch and watched his step, avoiding holes as he crossed to knock on the door.

  It opened instantly and he faced her chauffeur, a broad-shouldered man who probably outweighed him by forty pounds, all of it pure muscle. Shorter than Wyatt by half a foot, the man stood relaxed, yet Wyatt felt he was being studied carefully.

  “Hi. I’m Sheriff Wyatt Milan,” Wyatt said, extending his hand.

  “Duke Boyden,” the chauffeur said, giving Wyatt a firm handshake.

  “Former police officer, Destiny said.”

  “Yes, sir. I moved to Chicago when Destiny went because my wife is with the television show.”

  “I came to see what’s going on and if Destiny is still going ahead with plans to use this place for a show.”

  “She’s looking around. I think she has some questions for you. Come in.”

  As he stepped back, Wyatt entered a wide hallway that ran through the house. He glanced around to see the house had been cleaned. Cobwebs and dust had disappeared. While the place looked abandoned, run-down and dilapidated, it was no longer filled with leaves, debris and dust.

  “Wyatt,” Destiny said, her throaty voice making him think about the previous night. She came into the hall from one of the rooms and a pretty brown-haired woman followed her. “I see you met Duke. Meet Amy Osgood, my cousin. She’s my assistant. Amy, this is Sheriff Wyatt Milan.”

  “It’s just Wyatt. Glad to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand, finding it difficult to shift his gaze from Destiny, whose clinging red sweater held his attention. Her tight designer jeans were snug on her tiny waist, flaring over her hips. He remembered trailing his hands over those curves last night, and desire bombarded him once again. He met her gaze, unable to look away, feeling she was thinking about the same thing.

  “This place looks clean,” he said after a stretch of silence. “I’m surprised.”

  “Thank Mayor Nash. He had a cleaning crew come. I told him if there are bloodstains, to leave them alone. I don’t want evidence of the shootings cleaned away. According to one of your librarians, after the murders, the front room was closed and never used again,” Destiny said.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised because Lavita lived here alone. She had servants and some probably lived in the house, but they wouldn’t have used the formal parlor. So you’ve talked to Philomena Latham. She’s very knowledgeable about the town and the library.”

  Destiny nodded. “She was interesting. I talked to her before I came to town.”

  Wyatt wondered how many people had known she was coming to town before he did. He tried to focus on what she was telling him.

  “Too bad the furniture is gone.” She glanced over her shoulder. “We’re looking the house over now. We just got here about an hour ago. We started upstairs and have worked our way down to this floor.”

  “So you haven’t seen much of this floor.”

  “Nothing. There are a lot of stains on these old floors so I can’t go by the stains,” she said, her voice a notch lower. “We’ve just barely covered this floor and Amy and Duke are trying to map out the place, but it’s difficult and each floor is different.”

  “You’re right. I know from staying here years ago that the house has big rooms and tiny rooms. There’s a large attic and a big basement. There’s a storm cellar in the back that shares a wall with the basement, but there is no way to go back and forth from the basement.”

  As Wyatt walked at her side, he reached around her to open doors, and he caught the scent of her perfume, a heady, heavy, sensual scent that made him wish they were alone. He followed her into a kitchen with a high ceiling and cabinets with doors missing, glass broken in some of the doors. When they entered, a slender blonde turned to face him.

  “Virginia, meet Sheriff Wyatt Milan. Wyatt, this is Virginia Boyden, who is fantastic with a camera.”

  “Hi, Virginia,” Wyatt said, shaking her small hand.

  “Glad to meet you, Sheriff,” she said and looked at Destiny. “I’ll go to the front room—that’s the important room.”

  As Virginia left the room, Destiny looked around. “This must be a kitchen, but it doesn’t resemble one.”

  “Think how old this house is. The kitchen was supposed to be the latest thing when it was built with piped-in water,” Wyatt replied.

  “I’m glad I didn’t live in that era.”

  As she looked around, Wyatt looked at her. He could hear the others talking in the front part of the house, their voices sounding hollow in the empty spaces. He was alone with Destiny and he was tempted to step close and kiss her, but someone could return at any time.

  She turned her head, her red hair swinging across her shoulders. “Wyatt—” Whatever she had been about to say was lost as he stepped forward.

  “I’ve thought about you all day long,” he said. He held her chin lightly with his fingers. “I’ve remembered every moment of our night together.”

  “Wyatt, we’re not alone. I have three people with me.”

  “Kisses seem more urgent and more important to me than this old house,” he said, giving her another long, intense look before turning away.

  He heard her take a deep breath. “Come on, Sheriff, let’s look at the front parlor. The others are already in there.”

  Wyatt took her arm. The minute he touched her, everything faded except memories of the night with her. He wanted to be with her tonight, wanted to get her to his house where they could stay undisturbed and he wouldn’t have to leave in the middle of the night. He inhaled deeply, smelling her perfume that triggered more memories. He didn’t want this intense reaction to her. Destiny was an increasing disruption in his quiet life. Even as he thought that, he couldn’t stop looking at her and wanting to be with her through the night. He wanted, needed to kiss her.

  As if she knew what he was thinking, she glanced up at him. His insides tightened and he could feel the current between them as his gaze lowered to the enticing V of her red sweater. “I like your sweater,” he said, running his finger along the neckline, down to the V, feeling her softness and aching to hold her.

  She stepped away. “Wyatt—” she said, her voice breathless. She stepped past him and he caught up to walk down the hall to a large room. Some windows were broken and some boarded up, casting shadows on a stone fireplace at one end of the room.

  “We could have a basketball game in this room,” Duke said from behind him and Wyatt turned slightly while he glanced at the high ceilings.

  “You’re right. This is probably the formal parlor and as far as I know, it’s where the shootings took place.”

  Duke strolled slowly around, looking at holes in the walls.

  Wyatt glanced at the ancient and aging floor that had many stains. “Some of these are the bloodstains. I’ve never known exactly which ones because it’s never been important to know.”

  Destiny stopped and looked at a large brown stain on the worn wooden floor. “I have an appointment with Philomena again later this afternoon.”

  “She may be helpful,” he said, sorry he had not been particularly helpful about town history, but he didn’t care to encourage Destiny. “What time is your appointment?”

  “Not until four o’clock today,” she replied. She looked around the floor again. “Amy, you stand where one bloodstain is. Duke, you stand where one is and I’m at what has to be one.”

  As they moved into place, she looked at Virginia. “Virginia, take pictures of us and then when we move away, get the stains in the floor so I’ll have some pictures of possibly where the men stood the fatal night.”

  Wyatt watched her, he coul
dn’t help thinking about her and wanting to be alone with her. He wanted to make love more than he had before last night.

  Surprising him, Destiny said, “I think we might as well get back to town and let me get the information about the killings because that’s what will be important. If there isn’t much story or mystery here, then none of this matters. We’ll pack and go and forget this project.” She looked at Wyatt. “You still have a chance of getting your way. I’ll know after I talk more to people in town about what they know and see how much information we can get about the night of the murders and about Lavita Wrenville.”

  She glanced at her staff. “Let’s go back to the hotel to regroup. I have some appointments.” She walked to Wyatt to loop her arm in his. “Unless you can tell me more about that night or steer me to someone else I should talk to in town, I’ll have to tell you goodbye.”

  “Not goodbye.” They stepped into the hall and he took her arm to draw her with him into the next room, which was a dining room. Wyatt closed the door quietly.

  “Wyatt, what are you doing?”

  “Giving us some privacy,” he said in a husky tone as he returned.

  Her voice was shaky when she replied, “I’ll call you later tonight.”

  Wyatt glanced at the closed door and then back at her. “I want you, Destiny. I want to make love to you again and I will. And you want me, too, don’t you?”

  She hesitated a moment. “You know the answer to your question,” she whispered, gazing back at him intently. “But now I should join the others.” She brushed past him to leave the room.

  Did she feel the same as he did—wanting more than anything to have another night together? Or was she having regrets? She didn’t act like a woman with regrets.

  When Wyatt caught up with her and her crew, everyone started to gather the equipment that was piled near the door. Duke took some equipment from Virginia’s hand and shook his head at Amy. “You ladies go ahead to the car. I’ll bring these things.”

  “I can get the rest,” Wyatt said easily. “We’ll get it all.”

  As he gathered camera equipment, tablets, laptops and notebooks, Duke worked beside him. At the front door Duke paused, turning to face Wyatt. “My boss leaves a general impression with most men she meets,” Duke said casually, looking around the room and then letting his gaze rest on Wyatt. “It usually isn’t correct. Contrary to what she conveys and how she appears, there have been few men in her life.”

  Wyatt was startled that Duke would relay such personal information to a total stranger. He focused more closely on the man, whose brown eyes were intent on Wyatt.

  “I just don’t want to see her hurt,” Duke said. “She’s not Desirée who was mad as hell because she’s accustomed to getting her way. Desirée’s a kid with unreasonable expectations, immature and spoiled. Success and fame came when she was too young to handle it. Destiny tries to protect her, but of course, she can’t and now Destiny is in Chicago, far away from her sister. Destiny is entirely different. I don’t want to see her get hurt.”

  Wyatt’s eyes narrowed and he tilted his head to one side. “Did you just threaten me?”

  “Not at all,” Duke said, smiling at Wyatt, a cold smile that Wyatt considered unfriendly. “I would never, ever threaten a sheriff. No, I’m just talking and giving you some information about Destiny so you understand the woman you’re dealing with a little better. Men get the wrong impression about Destiny because of her looks, the way she dresses and she comes on friendly and smiling, usually turning on the charm. It’s a front to get what she wants, to get attention. It’s only a surface thing. Like I said, I just don’t want her hurt.”

  “Don’t worry where I’m concerned. I barely know her.”

  “When we travel, I try to look out for my wife and also Amy and Destiny. Destiny seems interested in you.”

  “I’d just as soon she would give this up and go on to something else. There are far more interesting unsolved mysteries in Texas. There’s no need to stir up old animosities,” Wyatt said. “See you, Duke.” He stepped outside and deposited everything he carried behind the man’s car. When he noticed Destiny waiting at his car, he walked over to her.

  “Thanks for carrying out stuff,” she said. “Call me.”

  “I’ll keep in touch,” he said.

  “Bye, Wyatt. Thanks for coming out.” She left him standing there, watching her for a moment, remembering the night and wanting her with him again.

  Wyatt drove to his house in Verity that he had built when he got elected sheriff so he wouldn’t have to commute daily from his ranch. In an exclusive gated community, his home was on five acres, set back with trees hiding it from the winding street. He drove around to enter in the back and as he got a cold beer, he heard his phone beep with a text from Nick and one from Tony. Both still wanted to know when they could meet Destiny.

  He shook his head and thought about her. He wanted to see her again himself. He wanted to be alone with her and have a complete night with her. Or longer. Even knowing that she was nothing but trouble in the long run. He walked down the hall to the room that he used for an office. Looking at the calendar, he tried to figure when he could ask her to his place for a cookout and invite his brothers. Madison had just married Jake Calhoun and Wyatt didn’t know whether they were even back yet from their honeymoon. He didn’t think either one of them would have a shred of interest in meeting Destiny. He left messages for all of them and then stood staring into space, lost in thought about Destiny. He had no idea how soon she would go back to Chicago.

  From the first moment in his office, she had stormed his senses and he had wanted to get to know her. He had wanted to seduce her and when he did, she had been far more than he had expected. She had left him wanting her more than ever and unable to get her out of his thoughts.

  Wyatt drove back to his office, stopping to talk to people on the way and going to his desk to look at his calendar and think about when he could have her out for dinner.

  He mulled over his talk with Duke—Duke who had been so protective of the women, checking out Wyatt, threatening him. In spite of his denial, it had been a threat and Duke looked like the type who meant what he said. Wyatt recalled clearly facing Duke, receiving the warning.

  “My boss leaves a general impression with most men she meets.... Contrary to what she conveys and how she appears, there have been few men in her life.... I just don’t want her hurt.”

  So now he might have to worry about Duke. How much more was Destiny going to complicate and change his life? What would she do next?

  Five

  Wednesday morning Duke drove Destiny down Main Street, parking behind the sheriff’s car in front of city hall. He held the door for Destiny who stepped out and strolled in to ask Dwight to tell Wyatt that she would like to see him.

  In seconds he appeared and her heart beat faster at the sight of him. In his freshly pressed plain brown sheriff’s uniform, he took her breath away. She knew movie stars, celebrities, politicians and none of those men had the dazzling effect that Wyatt did. What was the chemistry between them and how long would it last? Wyatt was not the person she wanted to feel steaming attraction to at all. She still couldn’t believe how attracted she was to him and how after making love with him, she only wanted more.

  The moment she looked into Wyatt’s eyes she remembered their night together. His gaze swept over her, a quick glance, yet it sped her already racing heartbeat.

  “Hi,” he said. “Come into my office.”

  “Good morning,” she said breathlessly, smiling at him and walking past him.

  Shedding her jacket, she sat in a leather chair opposite his. This time his gaze traveled slowly over her. “You should have stopped traffic out on Main Street in those jeans and that sweater,” he said and she smiled, smoothing the low-cut V neckline of her purple sweater.


  “No, I was hidden away inside the red limo and all was quiet as usual.”

  “You had to get out and walk into my office. You look great. They should hire you to model jeans.”

  “Thank you, but I’m not the model type. Skinny? I think not. That’s nice of you to say. And you can look all you want.” She felt his gaze trailing over her as if it was his fingers. She wanted so badly to step into his arms and kiss him.

  Wyatt redirected her attention with his question. “Now that you’ve seen the Wrenville house, what’s the verdict?”

  “I’m still interested. Whether the producer will be—that’s another matter. I’m interested in it for my next book. I still have people to talk to here before I move on. I’ll go back to Chicago from here and then I’m going to a little town in east Texas to look into another possibility for a show. Care to join me? We could think of ways to pass the hours,” she asked, smiling at him.

  “I’m tempted,” he replied, his voice getting a slightly husky note. “For now, how about coming to dinner Friday night at my place? I’ll admit there’s a particular reason for this invitation—it’s my brothers wanting to meet you. They are hounding me with texts.”

  “I’d be delighted.” She tilted her head and perused him. “Why do I think your brothers are very different from you?”

  “That’s not unusual. You and your sister are different,” he said.

  “Friday night is fine with me,” she said, glancing at her watch. “I’ll look forward to meeting your family.”

  “Good. They’ve wanted to meet you since you arrived.”

  “Tomorrow I’m going to Dallas to talk to a librarian there because they have some articles in their archives. I have some other appointments and then I’ll be back late tomorrow night, so I’ll be here Friday.”

  “Good. That will make my family happy.”

  “I better go now. Actually, I came here because I’m supposed to meet Ernie Grant from the Verity Chamber of Commerce. He’s giving me a tour and the history of Verity. I told him I would come to his office.”