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His Private Pleasure(7)

By:Donna Kauffman


He took another small step forward. There was still plenty of space between them. To anyone passing by, it would look like a simple conversation between two adults. But she knew better. The air between them all but crackled. “Do you want me to keep you from leaving?”

“Maybe I just want you to admit that I’m special.”

He smiled. “Surely you’ve heard that enough times, from enough men, to believe it by now. Why would hearing it from me make any difference?”

She’d just been playing with him, not serious at all, but his question made her pause. It shouldn’t make any difference, anything he said to her. She didn’t even know him. But she did know what he wasn’t. He wasn’t a player. He wasn’t part of the machine, part of the hype, part of the world that never said anything, did anything, for anyone, without there being some angle, some hidden agenda. So, in that respect, it did make a difference hearing it from him.

A shame she’d just been teasing him. He didn’t know her, couldn’t possibly make an informed judgment on anything about her. “You’re right,” she said, feeling vaguely depressed by the admission, ridiculous as that was. “I guess it wouldn’t.”

He cocked his head. “Why are you in Canyon Springs, anyway?”

“I’m on my way home from a wedding.”

“Albuquerque? Santa Fe?”

She shook her head. “Wyoming.”

He laughed. “Sort of a circuitous route you’re taking back to California, isn’t it? Either that or you’re really lost.”

“You can’t get lost when you don’t have an itinerary.”

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it. But you do have a destination. Which is west of here, you know. West and a state or so away.”

“I’m aware of that. I don’t have to be back anytime soon.”

“No new job waiting?”

She shook her head. “I’m on an extended…sabbatical.”

“Must have been successful in your old job, to take an open-ended leave like that.”

“Yeah, well, success isn’t measured only in money,” she said, then smiled. “But it does make sabbatical-taking a whole lot easier.”

“Sort of like running away from home, but with an expense account, huh?”

“Is there any other way to run?” He really was an intriguing guy, she thought. Intuitive. Sexy as hell, good sense of humor, but with something a little dark and edgy on the fringes. Probably the part of Vegas he still carried inside him. A shiver of awareness raced over her skin as she wondered what he might have been like if she’d crossed paths with him when that darkness was still fresh. Visions of those authority-figure fantasies popped into her head again, complete with handcuffs, leather belts and—

And that was quite enough of that. She clasped her hands, surprised to find her palms a bit damp. “I guess I’ll be on my way, then.”

“I guess you will.”

Neither of them moved.

“Head west, go past one state and hang a right, huh?” she said, after the silence stretched until her thighs got twitchy again.

“Or you could keep heading south. Since you’re in no hurry.”

“True. I’m not sure I’m done running away yet. I’m sort of enjoying my little adventure.” Or I am now, she thought.

His eyes suddenly narrowed and his entire body language shifted even though he didn’t move a muscle. “You aren’t running from something, are you? Someone?”

Liza felt the hairs all over her body lift at that sudden shift in intensity, all focused so deliciously on her. “Just the old me.” She smiled when he only fractionally relaxed. “Although she does seem to be dogging my steps today.”

“Meaning?”

“Old habits die hard.”

He thought about that for a moment. “Rescuing men is a bad habit of yours?”

She laughed. “You could say that. Be thankful, though. My price used to be pretty steep.”

“Hey, I tried to buy you lunch.”

“No, you tried to buy your way out of lunch. There’s a difference.”

“You didn’t honestly expect me to go in there dressed like this?”

“Half the town has probably driven past by now and seen you dressed like that. And, frankly, you don’t strike me as the sort whose masculinity is threatened all that easily.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. And typically, you’d be right. Anywhere except here. Hometowns have a way of making you feel you have to prove you’re a grownup.”

“And not the roughneck rascal you used to be?”

He laughed. “How’d you guess?”

She could tell him her body knew a bad boy when it was around one, but he was so many things she’d never been around, it wouldn’t have been entirely true. “So, why come back?”

“I was done being gone.”

“Interesting answer. Surely there are other places besides Vegas and your hometown that needed a sheriff.”

“I’m sure there are. I guess I needed to be someplace where I mattered on more than just a professional level. Good or bad, and there’s some of both, Canyon Springs is that place for me.”

Liza smiled. “So, is this a good day or a bad one?”

“Maybe a little of both.”

“Ouch.”

“Well, you did wreak a bit of havoc that I’m going to have to clean up.”

“Guilty as charged.” She stuck her arms out, wrists close together. “Take me in, Officer.”

He surprised her by taking her wrists in one broad hand before she could drop them. His strength and speed shouldn’t have surprised her…or soaked her panties like that.

“Maybe I’ll do just that,” he said.

She lifted her gaze from that big hand restraining her, circling hers so easily, so completely…. She hated not being in control. Really hated it. So why she opened her mouth and said, “Maybe I’ll let you,” she had no idea.

Those caramel eyes of his heated up. “Do I need to lock you up right now?” He stroked a finger across the pulse thrumming in her wrist…and his lips curved in a knowing smile. “Or can I leave you on your own recognizance until I’m off work?”

“Depends,” she said, proud that she’d managed to get the word past her suddenly parched throat. “How long will I be left to my own devices?”

He grinned. “I’m thinking any amount of time is time enough for you to find trouble.”

Liza merely smiled.

“Can I trust you to leave well enough alone with the showgirl story?”

“I don’t know, that’s asking an awful lot. I’m a people person. So I’m bound to meet up with some, and you know how it is, you get to talking and all.” She tried hard to ignore the riot of sensations his gentle, but quite firm grip on her wrists was wreaking on her body. Christ, she’d have to be a saint to pull that off. And one thing she’d never be, no matter how long a sabbatical she took from the opposite sex, was a saint.

She shuddered just a tiny bit when he rubbed his thumb along the base of her palm. And she was pretty sure she was about to take a sabbatical from her sabbatical.

“To be—” She was forced to stop and clear her throat. She wondered if he had any idea how long it had been since a man confounded her like this. One look at the smile teasing that hard mouth of his and she figured he had plenty of ideas. Dear Lord have mercy. “To be on the safe side, why don’t you fill me in on what you’ve told the general population here. So I can keep my story straight, of course.”

“Of course.” He relaxed his hold, but rather than sliding his hands up her arms and pulling her closer, which he had to know she was ready for, he surprised her once again by sliding his fingers down along her hands instead, all the way down her fingers to the very tips…before finally dropping his hands away.

Way more effective. Way.

“Tell you what,” he said, his own voice just a fraction rougher. He fished in his pocket and came up with a set of keys. He slid one off and handed it to her.

Just full of surprises. She was off balance—badly enough that it rattled her a bit. This was so far outside the way these things typically worked for her that she reacted on instinct, meaning she used her mouth to put herself back on top. Figuratively speaking. “So, I’ve won the key to your heart already, have I?”

He didn’t even blink. “Not a chance. This one unlocks something far less dangerous.”

He was way too good at this. Almost as good as she was.

“It’s the key to my place.”

She laughed. “What kind of sheriff are you?”

“The kind that knows which is the safer bet. Trust me, there’s not too much damage you can do at my place.”

“Meaning you’d rather keep me tucked away, private, out of sight.”

“Out of earshot is more like it.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “So, do you make a habit of giving strange women the key to your house?”

“You would be the first. And you’re hardly strange.”

She grinned. “Well, that’s close enough to admitting I’m special to appease my inner princess.” She eyed him consideringly. “Aren’t you going to ask me if I’m in the habit of taking keys from strange men?”