by Liz Talley
She shook her head. Her ponytail felt lopsided and her mouth thick with sleep. She may have even drooled on the Battenberg lace throw pillows. “Give me a minute and I’ll be down.”
After she brushed her hair, scrubbed her teeth and smoothed out the ugly navy top, she headed down the stairs. No one was in the foyer, but she heard voices from the family den.
“Okay, I’m up. What’s the emergency, Chief?”
Adam looked up from the leather sectional where he sat beside Henry, who had fallen asleep reading a sports magazine. Brent munched on popcorn and watched soccer on TV.
“No emergency, but I would like to have a word with you, if that’s okay?” As usual, Adam’s question wasn’t really a question. It was a command.
Brent didn’t look away from the television.
“You mean, privately?” Scarlet asked, wondering if it were a good idea spending any time alone with Adam. She didn’t trust herself around him, because he crushed her good intentions under the boot of his colossal sexiness.
He glanced at Henry. “That would be best.”
“Let’s go out back.”
They wound through the kitchen, where Rayne stood at the stove, focused on whatever was in the saucepan. She merely grunted when Scarlet told her they were going outside. Scarlet pushed through the screen door her aunt had insisted on keeping when her sister had overhauled the inn that past spring.
The moon hung low, barely a sliver in the deepening darkness. Bright stars laced the inky night like fireflies woven in a tapestry. Crickets chirruped and a thick humidity settled around them like a cloak. It was intimate, sticky and seductive. Not what she needed.
“So?” She settled on the second step from the bottom.
“Nice night,” he said, avoiding her question. He crossed the flagstone pavers, crushing the herbs planted in between with his cowboy boots and releasing their scent. Beneath a recently planted weeping willow was a cedar swing, polished and framed by iron scrollwork. He sat on it.
She cocked her head. “Did you come to pontificate upon the weather or was there another reason?”
“You’re grumpy when you wake up.”
“Most people are. Who jumps out of bed crapping sunshine?” she snapped. The man showed up at 9:45 p.m. and wanted to trade civilities?
She had every reason to be ill-tempered. His life hadn’t turned sideways and bassackward. He wasn’t serving a probation sentence under someone he wanted to knock boots with. He hadn’t received a phone call from a former lover…one he hadn’t heard from in over a year. And he wasn’t teaching ex-gang members how to find truth in their characterization of a damn blackbird. Scarlet felt as if she’d been tugged into an alternate universe. And it made a girl cranky.
“So nicely stated,” he muttered, setting the swing into motion.
“So sue me. I’m not a happy camper when someone wakes me up and doesn’t tell me why he bothered to pull me out of bed.”
She closed her mouth because the look Adam gave her could cook bacon. It was that damned sizzling. Must have been her mentioning getting out of bed. She frowned the prickle of awareness away and concentrated on the fact she’d rather be in bed. Alone. At least that’s what she told herself.
He cleared his throat. “Right. I came by to discuss the weather. How astute of you.”
“Okay. Sorry.”
“First, I want to apologize for making things difficult for you. I’ve tried hard to ignore whatever this is between us. I know it’s made—”
“You didn’t have to come by to say that again. Haven’t we had this conversation a bazillion times? We know the score. So—”
“Yeah, we do.” He took a deep breath. “Actually, I came by because you have a few crazy fans.”
“I have more than a few. Last time I checked my Twitter account had close to half a million followers.” She wasn’t arrogant. People followed her on Twitter and Facebook. She didn’t know why. She rarely posted anything remotely interesting. She couldn’t figure out people’s fascination with knowing things like what other people had for dinner or how many times their dog had chewed a shoe.
“Yes, but these are more up close and personal.”
“What do you mean?” She hadn’t told him about Harvey Primm lurking in the bushes. She’d nearly forgotten about the loony bird of a deacon.
“I caught a photographer waiting to snap a pic of you with the gang members at Phoenix. Oh, sorry, I mean paparazzo. He seemed particular about the designation.” Adam leaned forward and propped his arms on his knees. The movement made his shoulders seem broader, more virile. She noticed and wished she hadn’t.
“Oh, well, that’s par for the course. Tabloids are always looking for scoop. Americans love catching celebrities misbehaving. They even take pictures of them squeezing oranges at Whole Foods.”
“Maybe so, but this paparazzo said he’d seen Harvey Primm watching you. That doesn’t sit well with me.”
She felt uneasy. The man had actually followed her around? Mark her as officially creeped out. “What do you mean? He’s been stalking me?”
“I don’t know, but you need to be careful. Check your surroundings and keep a cell phone with you.”
Guilt tapped her on the shoulder. Okay. That was another good reason to take her phone. She had to stop being stubborn. “Why’s he doing that?”
Adam stood. “Not sure. He’s obsessive when he has something on his mind. I’ve been here almost a year and there always seems to be some issue he’s tackling. Usually he uses his newspaper to attack a person, but he seems to have taken this censorship thing personally.”
“I don’t get it. Having a difference of opinion is what makes us American. It shouldn’t lead to forcing his beliefs down a person’s throat. He’s confronted me before and I—”
“When?” He took a few steps toward her until his shadow fell across her.
“About a week ago. He showed up while Henry and I were tossing the ball around. He waved a newspaper around and said I was trying to make him look crazy. Honestly, he does that all by himself.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It didn’t seem like a big deal. I told him to leave. He did.”
Adam clasped her shoulders. “You have to tell me things like this, Scarlet. A guy showing up like that, pissed and confrontational, could be bad news.”
She shrugged out of his grasp. “I really didn’t think it was a big deal. If I had, I would have told you. I’m not stupid. Or stubborn.”
He quirked one eyebrow. The gesture felt so familiar. In fact, he felt so familiar. As though she’d known him much longer than she had. “Adam, I’m not brainless. If I felt it was something more than an old man peeved because he thought I’d done something to ding his rep, then I would have come to you and reported it.”
A few seconds ticked by. Something passed between them. The same thing that had passed between them many times before. Raw hunger. Yet something more. His features softened. “I like when you say my name.”
Seduction. She could feel it vibrating off him. “Adam?”
He laughed a soft, dangerous sound. The kind that invited trouble. “Yeah, that’s it. You tend to call me chief a lot.”
“I thought you liked being called chief. Seems important to you.”
He tilted his head, looked pensive. But the tension didn’t melt away. Only intensified. “It’s my role.”
“But doesn’t define you.” He’d boxed himself so firmly into the role, he’d forgotten that he was also Adam. A man. Who had desires. Needs.
“Hard to separate. The town doesn’t. To them, I’m the law. Not a man.”
“That doesn’t seem fair,” she murmured, wanting to touch him, but holding herself back. She’d wanted to respect his wishes. Wanted to remember all the good reasons not to indulge in anything other than business with Adam. But it didn’t stop her from wanting to toss that reason away. To touch him. Kiss him. Feel his body against hers.
“Life’s not fair,
” he said quietly. So quietly his words sounded like a caress. “If it were, you’d be a lot closer than you are now.”
She stood and the action put her closer to him, close enough to smell him. Woodsy, expensive aftershave. The scent wasn’t overpowering, just enough to intrigue. She met his gaze. The sleepy green eyes made her want to step closer still. So she did.
He closed those eyes and groaned. “Damn, woman.”
“What? You don’t want me close? Don’t want me to tempt you?”
He opened his eyes. “You know what I want. I want to taste you. Touch you. Play you like a melody.”
She released her breath and moved forward so only inches separated them. She felt the heat of his body. Perhaps she could even time the beats of his heart. “Somehow I knew poetry lurked beneath that badge.”
He smiled. Slow. Sexy. Sweet. “That’s not all I got under here.”
She slid her tongue along the curve of her bottom lip. “Oh, yeah? Since I can’t take a peek, you want to tell me?”
His expression promised something naughty. He’d gotten caught by the pull of the moon, by the whisper of desire that brushed over them.
“No, baby, you go first. What do you have under that grandma shirt?”
“I knew it. It’s ugly, isn’t it?”
The corner of Adam’s mouth kicked up and she felt it low in her belly in a place that hadn’t felt anything in quite a while. It felt delicious, like a new leaf unfurling inside her.
“So?”
“What’s underneath?” he whispered in her ear. But he didn’t touch her. It was kinky torture indeed.
Scarlet moved her lips so they almost touched the shell of his ear. Almost, but not quite.
“Lacy black bra. Do you like lace, Adam?”
His breath brushed her ear. “No, I like what’s underneath lace.”
“Oh,” she breathed. “Your turn.”
“I don’t wear lace,” he said, blowing against her neck.
Oh, he was a bad boy. What she’d always suspected. The heat from his body competed against the sultry night and won out. Impish desire took hold of her, urging her to tantalize until she got what she wanted. “So we’re really gonna do this phone-sex thing…without a phone?”
He pulled back, his delicious lips twitched in amusement. “I wouldn’t know. Never had phone sex before. I prefer the real thing.”
She moved closer, near enough that her hair brushed against the front of his shirt. She was immensely glad she’d washed her hair with the specialty shampoo Stefan had insisted she buy when they’d been poking around Greenwich Village. It reeked of sensuality. “Oh, baby, you’ve been missing out.”
“Obviously. What’s next?”
She rose on tiptoe. “You have to tell me what you want to do to me.”
“I’m not sure there are words.”
“I’ll show you how.”
She slid behind him, almost touching her back to his. Almost, but not quite. She emerged on the other side of him, leaned in close and whispered, “Follow me.”
She walked across the lawn toward the shadows thrown by the neighbor’s maple tree and leaned against the fence. A clump of azaleas hid her from the house. Adam propped a hand on either side of her head. He ate her up with his eyes.
She touched the tip of her tongue to her upper lip and slipped one button open on her blouse. “Maybe you should have a peek.”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “Maybe I should.”
She slid another button open, tugging the shirt so he could catch a glimpse of the black lace covering the plumpness of her breast. Her nipples ached for his touch. It was nearly unbearable.
She slid another button loose, so the tops of her breasts were visible. She leaned against the rough wood of the fence, arching her back slightly. “Now you know I’m not a liar.”
He groaned.
She gave her most Veronica-like smile, but the vampire queen was nowhere to be found. Scarlet’s emotions were all her own. “Now, let me show you how it’s done. First, I’d have to get that shirt off you. It’s a nice shade of green, complements your eyes. But it’s got to go. So, I’d unbutton it slowly, maybe stopping to lick your collarbone or give you sweet little bites on what has to be a magnificent chest.”
He exhaled. “This is going to kill me.”
“If you’re lucky.”
She met his hungry gaze, loving every minute of the sweet torture. She wanted to drive him crazy, wanted to see him lose control. “So, then I’d pull your shirt from those jeans, Maybe slide my hand beneath your waistband so I could make sure your ass is as hard as it looks.”
“I am a hard-ass.”
“And you have a nice one,” she said. “I would push your shirt from your arms, making sure I brushed my nipples against your chest. So you’d feel how turned-on I am.”
He closed his eyes. Again.
“Your turn,” she said, pushing herself from the fence so she stood in the circle of his arms. Not one part of her actually connected with him, but she’d never been so aware, so utterly turned-on in her entire life. Her body was tight as a guitar string, and her lacy panties likely drenched. And it felt so damn good.
His eyes were dilated, lids heavy. If she were a betting woman—and she was—she would say the slightest touch could drive him over the edge. But she wouldn’t touch him. Couldn’t.
They were playing a game, one in which only their words crossed the line. Okay, and maybe her shirt being opened to his gaze was a bit risky.
But if anyone peered over the fence or glanced across the yard, they would see two people talking.
Even if they were using words that had her near climax.
ADAM INHALED, TAKING in all that was Scarlet. She smelled like a woman turned-on and it drove him insane. He’d never seen anything as beautiful as Scarlet standing barefoot in the dying grass, wearing that ugly blue shirt. The freshly painted fence created an appropriate backdrop for her vivid beauty. Moonlight poured over her, bathing her in luminescence. She was a wicked temptress and an innocent Madonna rolled into one. She would be his undoing.
“My turn, huh?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She tilted her head and her dark red hair fell to the side. A diamond winked in the delicate ear revealed. Then he made the mistake of looking at her lips. Lush, beckoning. He felt a shudder rip through him. Hell, he could spend all night on those lips alone.
“I don’t think I’d waste time. No teasing. No unbuttoning. I think I’d shuck those shorts of yours, lift you up and worry about picking splinters out of your back later.”
She laughed. “Oh, you’re one of those guys, huh? Wham, bam, thank—”
“Oh, no. You’d be thanking me.” He laughed against the softness of her throat. It was so tempting. He could lower his lips half an inch and they would brush against her satin skin. But if he did that, he wouldn’t stop until she was naked beneath him. So he pulled back. “I’m not sure I can continue this, not without touching you. And if I touch you-—”
“We’d both spin out of control.”
He sighed and stepped away. “I don’t think you know how much I want you, Scarlet.”
Her gaze slid to his crotch. He swore it felt like a caress. He nearly gave in. Nearly grabbed her, took his pleasure, be damned the consequences. Her eyes met his. “I think I do.”
He grimaced. “You know, this is hell. This whole integrity, moral-compass stuff.”
“Yeah, but it’s who you are. I like that about you.”
He started toward the porch and the light of reality burning steadfast in the night. “Come on. Before we’re tempted to say to hell with it and strip down naked.”
She sighed and buttoned her blouse. “A girl can dream, can’t she?”
They crossed the yard shoulder to shoulder and, like moments before, they were so close, yet so far away from what they both wanted. Rayne appeared at the screened door. “Hey, where did you two get off to?”
Her voice was teasing and it bothered him Ray
ne would assume they were up to no good. Of course, they had been up to no good. Kind of.
“We were walking the perimeter. I stopped by to let Scarlet know Harvey Primm has been following her around. I want her to be doubly careful over the next few weeks.”
Rayne pushed the door open and stepped out. Worry creased her face. “He was here the other day. Did you tell him, Scar?”
Scarlet nodded. “Yeah. He’s probably looking for some dirt on me or you. Maybe some sort of leverage to shut me up, but he’s a little weird. Who knows with people nowadays?”
“Exactly. So what are you going to do, Adam?”
“Not much I can do other than keep a closer eye on him. As long as he doesn’t trespass on your property, he’s not crossing a line.”
“Well, thanks for coming by and checking on me,” Scarlet said, climbing the porch steps to stand beside her sister. “Your concern was…touching.”
He didn’t miss the play on words. Neither did Rayne. “What does that mean?”
Scarlet chuckled. “Nothing. I nearly lost my way out there and the chief kindly redirected me.”
“Y’all are talking in circles,” Rayne said, her gaze swinging from her sister to him.
He cleared his throat. “Nothing to worry about, Rayne. Scarlet likes to tease.”
That was the understatement of the decade. He hoped like hell his erection wasn’t too visible. He was still halfway hard from the teasing she’d given him earlier. Naughty girl.
“Survey your surroundings before you get into your car or check the mail. If you see anything funny, call me at the station.”
Rayne nodded. Scarlet merely watched him, her gaze hard to read. Would he ever understand her? She was a puzzle—saucy, bold but also surprisingly levelheaded and sincere. A man could go years and years and never solve her.
“I’ll head around the side. Night, ladies.”
He saluted, then crunched through the crushed gravel toward the front of the house, allowing his eyes to swing left and right, combing the shadows.
The most logical explanation for Harvey’s illogical behavior was that he hoped to catch Scarlet acting inappropriately in order to paint her in a bad light in his tattler newspaper.
