by Lori Foster
“No.” He leaned over her. “I don’t need your help.”
“Why not? Tell me what qualities you’re looking for and I’ll keep my eyes open.”
Morgan leaned closer, then lifted her chin with the edge of his fist. “Right now, I don’t want a wife. I want you. And if you were honest, you’d admit you want me, too.”
She met his gaze just as intently, determined to make him understand before she broke down and proved him right. “Sorry, Morgan, but I’ve sworn off men.”
His hand opened, cradling her face. “That’s the hell of it, Malone. You’re not giving me a chance.” His gaze touched on her everywhere—her eyes, her lips, her breasts. His thumb moved softly over her bottom lip. “It could be perfect, sweetheart. I’d make sure of it.”
Misty wondered if she looked in the dictionary for the word temptation if it would feature a picture of Morgan Hudson. She could feel herself shaking inside, could feel her nerve endings all coming alive at his sensual promise—a promise she felt sure he could keep. The man was as seductive and searing as the bold stroke of a warm hand.
Wanting to give him equal honesty, she wrapped her hand around his wrist and shared a melancholy smile. “I have no doubt you…know what you’re doing, Morgan. But I already feel a little used. I don’t relish feeling that way again.”
His fingers slid over her head to the back of her neck, cupping her warmly. “Oh, babe.” His fingers caressed, kindled. His sigh was warm, his words soft. “I would never hurt you.”
When she started to speak, he hushed her. “No, don’t give me all your arguments. You’ll make me morose.”
She laughed at that. Morgan was so brutally honest, so different from the other men she knew. He didn’t try to whitewash what he wanted, which was sex. He made it clear he intended to find a wife soon and that she didn’t fit the role—a fact she knew only too well. He kept her aware of what he thought about things, and while she did consider him far too forward and pushy, it was nice not to have to guess about ulterior motives and hidden agendas.
Compared to Kent, a man who’d sworn undying love then dropped her the moment he found out she was pregnant, Morgan’s honesty was refreshing. It was still alarming, but she’d trust it over insincere promises any day.
He released her, then rubbed the back of his neck. “You should know I’m not going to quit trying. I figure sooner or later I’ll wear you down and you’ll admit you want me.”
“Why don’t you try holding your breath?”
He wagged a finger at her. “Play nice, Malone.”
“But you’re the one who told me I could make you miserable, right? That’s why I agreed to this farce in the first place.”
She grinned at him, which made him laugh and shake his head. “Witch.”
Misty wasn’t offended. Somehow he’d made the name sound like an endearment.
He took her hand and started them on the way again. “Speaking of this farce…I should also point out that the job has nothing to do with your continued rejection.” He glanced at her. “I’m not going to fire you if you keep saying no. I won’t like it, and I’ll do my damnedest to change your mind, but the job is yours as long as you’re fulfilling it.”
“No blackmail, huh?”
“No. I just wanted to make sure we understood each other.”
For some reason, she’d never once doubted that. The way Morgan interacted with his family, treating Casey almost like a son, Honey like a sister, she knew he was too honorable to try forcing her hand. And he’d already proven that night in the gazebo that all it took was a soft, simple no to make him back off. She wasn’t afraid of him. She was only afraid of herself when she was with him.
She was still pondering that when Morgan opened the garage door and she got a good look at the official car he expected her to ride in.
She backed up two steps. Granted it wasn’t a typical law enforcement vehicle, but it had the lights on the roof and the word Sheriff emblazoned on the side in yellow and blue. Memories flooded back, and she winced.
To stall, she asked Morgan, “What type of sheriff are you?”
He looked up, saw her expression, then glanced at the shiny black four-wheel-drive Bronco. “Just a regular run-of-the-mill county sheriff, why? You don’t like my transportation?” He wore a devilish grin.
“I’ve never seen anything like it.” She walked around the truck, looking at it from all angles. “I thought officials drove sedans, not sport utility vehicles.”
“It’s for off-road driving, but there’s no sport to it. There’re a lot of hills in these parts. And though we don’t have much in the way of big crime, just about anything that happens involves those damn hills. Last fall, a little girl got lost and we spent two days on foot looking for her. A four-wheel-drive would have made all the difference on some of the off-road searches. After that, the townsfolk got together and donated the Bronco.”
Misty felt a little sick as she asked, “The child?”
“I found her curled up real tight under an outcropping of rock.” His hands curled into fists and his jaw locked. “Her father had given up looking and was back at the station, drinking coffee and letting people dote on him.”
He sounded thoroughly disgusted, not that Misty blamed him.
“Sawyer had rounded up about fifty people and we’d been at it all day and through the night. When I found her late the following afternoon, she was terrified, cold and crying for her daddy.”
Misty put her hand on his arm, aware of the bunched muscles and his tension. Knowing Morgan as well as she did now, she could imagine how difficult that would have been for him, trying to console a child, hurting when that wasn’t possible. “Her father should have been with you.”
“He was a damn fool, visiting these parts and camping out when he didn’t have a clue as to what he was doing. The weather was too cold for it and he didn’t exactly pick the best spot to pitch his tent. The little girl wandered off because he wasn’t watching her close enough.”
“But she was all right?”
“Other than being a little dehydrated and scared silly, she did great. Cutest little thing you’d ever seen. About five years old.” His eyes met hers, diamond bright, and he added, “I know if it had been my kid, I wouldn’t have quit looking until I found her.”
“I think,” Misty said, studying his intent expression, “you wouldn’t have let her out of your sight in the first place.”
Morgan kissed her nose. “No, I wouldn’t have.”
Misty wondered if he’d slept at all during those two days, and seriously doubted that he had. She gave him a tremulous smile. The man was proving to be entirely too easy to like.
Morgan stared at her mouth, groaned, then pulled the door of the Bronco open. “Let’s go, Malone, before I forget my good intentions.”
She clasped a hand to her heart. “You have good intentions? Toward me? I had no idea.”
Suddenly his eyes narrowed. “Why are you stalling? What’s up?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She eyed the truck again, then with a distinct feeling of dread, hefted herself into the seat. Morgan gave her a long look before he slammed the door.
When he climbed in on his own side, he said, “You wanna tell me about it?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She stared with feigned fascination at the control panel, the radio. Behind her was a sturdy wire-mesh screen separating the cargo area from the front seat—for prisoners, she knew. Unable to help herself, she shuddered.
Morgan started the engine, then reached for her hand. “When you were arrested, they cuffed you?”
“I don’t want to talk about that.” She tried to pull away, but he held her hand tight and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. He did that a lot, grabbing hold of her and not letting her go. This time she appreciated the touch. She curled her fingers around his.
“I imagine you were,” he said, speaking about the arrest in a matter-of-fact way. “It’s pretty much policy th
ese days, for safety reasons.”
She chewed her lip, then slowly closed her eyes, giving up. “It was the most degrading moment of my entire life. It was bad enough when Mr. Collins accused me of stealing the money, and I couldn’t believe it when he actually called the cops.”
“Mr. Collins?”
“My boss at Vision Videos. I kept thinking somehow things would get straightened out, that they’d realize there’d been a mistake.”
“They didn’t find the money on you?”
“No, because I didn’t have it.” She glared at him, then asked, “You think I’m guilty, don’t you?”
Morgan was silent as they pulled onto the main road. He drove with one hand, still holding onto her with the other. Finally he muttered, “To be honest, I have serious doubts.”
“Really?”
He glanced at her. “But if you did do it, I’d understand, okay?”
There was that damn honesty again; he wasn’t convinced of her innocence, but he’d allow for the possibility. She almost laughed. For a man who wanted to get intimate with a woman, he wasn’t going about it in the usual way—with lies and deceptions that would soften her up. “Even the lawyer I hired didn’t believe me, not really.”
“The evidence must have been pretty strong.”
“Yeah, the fact that I’m a pregnant, supposedly desperate female was proof positive that I’d steal from a man I’d worked with for two years, even though I’d never been in trouble before in my life.”
“Your boss knew you were pregnant?”
“Morning sickness kind of gives you away. That and the fact that I suddenly had more nights free.” Misty was only vaguely aware of the beautiful scenery as they drove down the long road. The sun was bright, the day hot, but the air-conditioning in the truck had her feeling chilly.
Or maybe it was the dredging of memories that made her feel so cold inside. “I wasn’t dating Kent anymore, and I knew that with the baby coming I needed to save up more money, so I’d offered to work more overtime.” She slanted Morgan a look. “That made me seem guilty, too, by the way. My boss said small amounts of money had been missing several nights in a row, which was the first I’d heard of it, but he claimed that was why he’d come in unexpectedly to check on me that day, and found the money missing.”
“When exactly did this all take place?”
She told him the exact day she’d been arrested.
Morgan surprised her by lifting her hand to his mouth and then turning it to gently kiss her palm. “I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable riding with me.”
Misty held her breath as his mouth moved against the sensitive skin of her palm. That, added to the gentle way he had of speaking to her sometimes, left her feeling vaguely empty and jumpy inside.
She swallowed hard. “After everything I’ve been through, it’s silly to let a little ride get to me. But you just can’t imagine what it was like. There were tons of people gathered outside the video store when I was arrested. They led me out in handcuffs and I just wanted to die. I thought I’d be glad to get in the car, where people couldn’t see me, but instead, it seemed we hit every red light and folks in the other cars would stare.”
Morgan slowed for a deer that ran across the road, distracting Misty for the moment. He spoke quietly, holding her hand on his thigh. “Sweetheart, people are always going to stare at you, no matter what, because you’re beautiful. That’s something you just ought to get used to.”
Laughing helped to wash away the melancholy. “You may find this hard to believe, Morgan, but no one has ever carried on so much about my looks. Honey was the one the guys were always after. Men prefer blondes, you know.”
“Sawyer certainly does.” He turned to give her a lazy grin. “But I’m not Sawyer.”
“You’ve got me there.”
“You know what I prefer?”
She started whistling, which only made him chuckle. “I prefer dark-haired women with long sexy legs and incredible…”
“Morgan—” she warned.
“—smiles.” He laughed at her expression. “Such a dirty mind you have, Malone. What did you think I was going to say?”
She reached over and smacked him for that, then couldn’t help laughing again. “I figure I’m only slightly better than average looking—and I’m giving you the slightly better based on all this praise you’ve heaped on me lately.”
He didn’t look at her, just made a sound of disagreement. “You can ask any man and he’ll tell you the same. Hell, just hearing you talk makes me hard, even when I don’t like what we’re talking about.”
Of course she looked, then immediately jerked her gaze away. “If you don’t stop being so shameless—” She sighed, unable to think of a threat that might carry any impact. It annoyed her that he’d once again gotten her to stare at him in a totally inappropriate way.
“You’ll what? No, don’t answer that. And for your information, I can’t seem to help it.”
She tugged her hand free, tucking it close so he couldn’t retrieve it. “Keep your lips to yourself. That might be good for starters.”
“Malone, I swear, one of these days you’re going to take back those words.”
She laughed again. “You’re incorrigible.”
“And a distraction?”
She blinked, realizing that he had, indeed, distracted her. She nodded, giving him his due, but felt it necessary to point out the obvious. “My ride then was a little different. I was in the back, handcuffed, and the officers were in uniform—and armed.”
Morgan grinned at her. “The county insists the Bronco is partly for my personal use, sort of a perk, so you’re not the first woman to be seen in it.”
“Did I ask for that information?”
“I just wanted you to know that if anyone stares this time, it’ll be with a different kind of curiosity. And I do wear a uniform when I’m on duty, which I’m not right now. As to being armed, it’s a habit.” He made that statement, then shrugged.
“What do you mean?” Misty turned slightly in her seat to face him. “You carry a gun around with you?”
“All the time.”
Once again she looked him over, then cocked an eyebrow. “Must be a good hiding place.”
“Want to search me, Malone?”
Yes, but she wouldn’t tell him that. “I’m waiting.”
“You’re no fun at all, but we’ll work on that.” He leaned down and lifted the hem of his jeans. “Ankle strap. I wear a belt holster when I’m on duty.”
She’d seen him in uniform, and the sight had been impressive indeed. He looked nothing like Andy Griffith, that was for sure. When Morgan got decked out in his official clothes, he looked like a female fantasy on the loose. His shirt fit his broad shoulders to perfection, and his slacks emphasized his long, strong legs. The holster around his waist gave an added touch of danger to his dark good looks.
She imagined the females of Buckhorn County would continue to elect him sheriff just to get to see him in uniform each day.
Not that he didn’t look great today in his jeans and soft T-shirt.
Misty eyed the small handgun in a leather holster. It was attached to an ankle cuff with a velcro strap. Despite herself, she was fascinated. “Do the good citizens of Buckhorn know about that gun?”
“You kidding? They insist on me holding up my image. Why, if they thought I wasn’t armed, they’d be outraged. They each consider me their own personal sheriff, you know.”
“Especially the women?” Ouch. She hadn’t meant to say that.
Morgan gave her a knowing look, but thankfully didn’t tease her. “Men and women alike, actually. Half my job is spent letting them bend my ear and reassuring them that the corruption of outside communities hasn’t infiltrated yet.”
“If corruption hasn’t infiltrated, then why do they want you to carry a gun?”
He shrugged a massive shoulder. “I told you. Image.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “And I ha
ve had occasion to use it now and then.”
He had her undivided attention. “You’re kidding?”
“Nope. Being that we’re a small town, a few of the more disreputable sorts thought it’d be the ideal hideout. To date, I’ve apprehended an escaped convict, caught a man wanted for robbery, and another for kidnapping.”
Her eyes were wide. “Did you…shoot anyone?”
His hands tightened on the wheel. “The kidnapper, in the knee. The son of a bitch held a gun to a woman. He’s lucky that’s all I did to him.”
Misty fell back in her seat, amazed. “I never would have imagined.” Morgan seemed dangerous in many ways, and he certainly held his own when it came to taking charge of any situation. But she’d never imagined him being involved in a possibly lethal situation. He could have been killed! “This is incredible.”
Again, he shrugged.
“What would the good citizens think if they knew you were consorting with a known criminal?”
“You?”
“Do you know any others?”
“Sure.” He didn’t allow her to question that. He gave her a speculative look, then suggested, “You could get your name cleared, you know.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible.” She bit her lip. “Once something is on your permanent record…”
“I could get it taken care of. It’s a lot of legal jumble, and I can explain it later, but if you really didn’t take the money…”
Misty felt her heart beating faster. “I didn’t take the money.” She waited for his reaction, her breath held. She wanted Morgan to believe her. It had suddenly become important to her, and not just because he wanted to help.
Seconds ticked by, and then he nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”
He said nothing else, and that, she supposed, was that.
They reached the center of town, which was really no more than a narrow street full of buildings. Misty hadn’t paid much attention to it when she’d been at the hall for Honey’s wedding. She’d still been too nervous about Morgan and too excited for her sister. But now she had the chance to take it all in, and she wasn’t going to miss a single thing.
