His Private Pleasure. Donna Kauffman
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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?”
He chuckled then. “Well, let’s just say—and I know you’ll take this the right way—I have a feeling you can handle yourself just fine with any man.”
She could have told him he wasn’t just any man, but she had little enough leverage as it was. “That may well be true. But I’d still be putting myself in a situation that would be hard to defend, if you chose to…overpower me.” Dear Lord, where had that come from? So much for that pesky little domination fantasy she’d never had.
He pushed another curl from her cheek, this time just lightly brushing her skin. “I’m pretty sure the one overpowered here is me.”
If he only knew, she thought, fighting the shudder of pleasure that threatened to ripple through her.
“But if you need further reassurance, I’d hardly do anything nefarious in my own hometown, where everyone’s business is, well, everyone’s business.”
“You are the law, though. If you want something done, doesn’t it get done?”
“You did stand under that tree an hour ago and watch me lose a battle with a bird, did you not?”
She laughed. “True. And your mother is a formidable woman.”
“You don’t know the half of it.”
“You’d be surprised. Sometime we’ll have to swap parent tales. I could raise your hair.” This is an afternoon fling, Liza, not This Is Your Life.
“I could make the obvious observation here, but that would be too easy.”
Easy. Sort of like some might think she was being at the moment. Only this didn’t feel remotely easy. Still…
“When I said I rescued men, just exactly what did you think my former occupation was, anyway?”
Now he laughed. “Trust me, that was the last thing on my mind.”
“So sure, are you?”
That dark edgy look was back in his eyes. “I worked vice in Vegas. I’m sure.”
She relaxed. A little. “Okay. So I’m just supposed to head over to your place and sit and wait for you.” She smiled. “I’m not sure whose fantasies we’re fulfilling here.”
“Is that what this is for you? A fantasy fulfillment of some kind?”
Oops. Oh well, in for a penny… “Didn’t start out that way.”
“But?”
“Well, at the risk of sounding horribly unimaginative, which, trust me, is so not like me—”
“That, I believe.”
“Says the guy who created the floozy girlfriend.”
“Showgirls work hard, they’re not floozies.”
“I won’t ask how you know that.”
He shrugged. “Your choice.”
She grinned. “So maybe I will ask. Later.”
“I suppose we both have some stories to tell. If that’s how you want to spend the evening.”
“Depends. What else did you have in mind?”
“Dinner. And—”
She raised a hand.