To Protect and Seduce

TO PROTECT AND…SEDUCE? …Wordlessly, he opened his arms. She walked into their circle, buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder and let the warm, secure comfort enfold her. For weeks she had been strong, determined, showing a calm demeanor to her son and making fast decisions as they crossed the country. All at once her strength had run out. Jack offered comfort and at least temporary oblivion if she let the mutual attraction blaze again. The combination was too tempting to resist. His embrace felt so secure. Safe, in the arms of a cop yet. I hope I’m not making a terrible mistake. Regardless, right now she couldn’t push herself away from him to save her life. Even though she knew these platonic, comforting sensations could shift to a flash burn of lust in moments. It started with the tingle in her breasts where they pressed against the wall of his solid chest, electric energy that immediately had her nipples pebbling into hyper-sensitive buds, thrusting against the restraint of her bra. Heat began to pool low in her belly and settled in her womb, sending new fluid warmth rushing down to her pussy. She shifted slightly and came into firm contact with the urgent thrust of his cock, seeking her through the layers of their clothing. His hand, which had been gliding up and down her back in a soothing motion, lowered to cup one buttock. Around her waist, his other arm dragged her closer, almost grinding her pelvis against his groin. His fingers flexed, digging into the muscled curve of her ass. “You’re making me crazy, Angie. If you aren’t sure this is what you want, say something now quick.” “I want…”

ALSO BY DEIRDRE O’DARE Cowboy First Aid Karola’s Hunt Pickup Man Portrait Of A Cowboy Randi’s Hellacious Adventure The Taming of Jaelle’n

TO PROTECT… AND SEDUCE BY DEIRDRE O’DARE

AMBER QUILL PRESS, LLC http://www.amberquill.com

TO PROTECT AND…S EDUCE ? AN AMBER HEAT BOOK This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. Amber Quill Press, LLC http://www.amberquill.com All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review. Copyright © 2006 by Deidre O’Dare ISBN 1-59279-595-1 Cover Art © 2006 Trace Edward Zaber

Layout and Formatting provided by: ElementalAlchemy.com

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

I have to dedicate this one to my own “cop next door” and to another, Jennifer, who chose me for her stepmom. That was long ago but still vivid in my memory. Thank you, “Great Scot,” for many years of inspiration. A Celt, cop and cowboy all rolled into one, every hero I write has a bit of you in his makeup. Also heartfelt thanks to my fellow Amber Quill authors who welcomed me into their group and made me feel part of a special family here. You gals (and a few guys) are the bestest!

TO PROTECT AND…SEDUCE?

CHAPTER 1

Amy let the last box slip from her weary hands. It landed on the floor with a dull thud. In a remote corner of her mind, she prayed it held nothing breakable. Nine-year-old C.S. came up behind her, scuffing worn tennies on the dusty wood floor. “This is an awful funky place, Mom. Are we really going to live here?” “We are for now.” She exhaled a gusty sigh. To term the apartment “quaint” was being kind. The building was probably five times her age, if not more. A structure that had once been a single opulent home was now split up into several apartments. From the odd angles and corners, she could tell they’d been notched together in a hodge-podge. Whether this was to link into existing pipes for kitchens and baths, to connect to a central furnace or maybe just to satisfy some madman’s idea of architecture, she had no idea. Cleaned up, with some bright throw rugs, curtains on the tall 1

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windows to hide the ancient roller shades, and some of her familiar trinkets on display, it might have a certain charm. The biggest point in the place’s favor was that it was some eighteen hundred miles from Newark, New Jersey. That was home to the man who’d made her life hell for the past eight years. It was not likely he’d look for her in a remote Arizona mining town, at least for a while. Amy’s thoughts drifted back in time. Constantine Socrates Stavros III was proud of his Greek heritage. He was even more proud of the fact his late great-grandfather, Socksie Stavros, had made it big in bootlegging back in the Roaring Twenties. When she first met Conn, to a green girl of eighteen he had seemed the epitome of suave sophistication. A prince with sex appeal robed in the glamour of wickedness, he’d courted her with candy and flowers. He took her for dates in New York City to dine at the best restaurants and see shows at the best clubs. She’d been swept right off her feet. It wasn’t until later that she began to wonder how he had so much money to throw around when he didn’t work. It was later still when she realized the lifestyle she enjoyed less all the time was financed by illicit drug deals. By then she had a baby and her widowed mother was dead, leaving her nowhere to go. For eight long, miserable years she had endured Conn’s taunts and insults, his jealous rages and an occasional blow. The last straw came when he had knocked C.S. across the room in one of his tantrums. She knew then she had to leave. Her son was the light of her life. His father’s evil temper was not going to bring him further harm. To be sure of that, she had to leave. The small inheritance Amy had from her parents hadn’t been worth Conn’s notice. She was able to withdraw the money from the bank in her old home town fifty miles south and make plans without him noticing. Then, in the beat-up Chevy van she had an old school friend buy for her, she fled with only her son and the barest necessities. 2

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Setting off to travel cross-country was a desperate undertaking. No credit cards to leave a paper trail; no names unless she absolutely had to give one. Then it was an assumed name concocted from old family names that Conn or any of his people were unlikely to recognize. Now she was here. Azurite, Arizona was a fading mining town that spilled, in disarray, down a rusty-walled canyon toward the border from the Coronado Mountains. Once a boom town, according to local characters she spoke with briefly, it was now a bust town. Azurite was barely hanging onto the slippery knot at the end of its rope. In short, it provided a good place to hide out. Amy spent the rest of that day and most of the next cleaning, trying to make the four-room apartment into some semblance of a home. C.S.—she refused to even think of him as Constantine IV—wandered in and out. At loose ends without his electronic games, expensive toys, and the cousins he was used to playing with, he still knew better than to whine. The second afternoon she was relieved to hear childish voices in the small courtyard onto which two of the apartments opened. Maybe C.S. has found a friend. Actually he’d handled the disruption of his young life pretty well. He still seemed to consider it an adventure, perhaps a temporary detour from the world he had known. She hadn’t the heart to tell him that life as he’d known it was over for good. One thing Conn had been was free with money. Both she and C.S. had had any material thing they wanted, anything except real love and respect. Maybe she should have insisted on a wedding instead of accepting the dubious status of a common-law wife. The worn screen door banged behind her son as he clattered in, interrupting her reverie. “Hey, Mom, I met this girl. She lives next door. She’s just a month younger than me and her dad is a cop.” Oh great, just what I need…to come to the attention of the local 3

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authorities. I doubt that Conn has much pull in Arizona, but you never know. “Oh, honey, I hope you didn’t feel it necessary to tell her your life story.” C.S. shrugged. “Nah, I said we come from California ’cause my dad was ’busive and you were gettin’ a divorce. Jenna told me her mom died last year. I guess she got sick or somethin’. Jenna didn’t really say.” “I’m glad you’ve found someone to play with, but remember, we need to be quiet about where we’re from. It’s like a game. We’re hiding and don’t want ‘it’ to find us.” “And Dad is ‘it,’ isn’t he?” For a moment, C.S. fixed a dark gaze on her face, looking entirely too much like his father for Amy’s comfort. Finally she nodded. There was no use denying what her son had already figured out. “We’re not never going back, are we?” Amy twitched a shoulder. “It’s ‘not ever.’ Not never isn’t good grammar. I wouldn’t say ever, though. It’s hard to tell. For now we’re here and we’ll stay for a while anyway.” “Can I turn on the TV? Bratz ’n’ Ratz is coming on and there’s nothing else to do.” As much as she hated that cartoon and hated for C.S. to spend much time watching TV, she couldn’t refuse. Once things settled down, maybe she could enforce some rules again. She exhaled in a long sigh, feeling the crushing weight of responsibility and danger bearing down on her. *

*

*

That evening, Amy slouched in the worn chair, too tired to move. The flickering pictures on the TV held no meaning nor did the voices, which she could barely hear with the sound turned down. She knew it was getting late. The sounds from C.S.’s room had faded to the even breaths of sleep. Good, he’s down for the count at last. If only she had 4

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a tenth of his energy. The sharp rap on the door startled her. No use pretending she wasn’t there. Whoever stood outside could see in through the screen, even though she had only one dim light on. “Who is it?” The slight quaver of her voice betrayed more anxiety than she wanted to. “Just your neighbor. I hate to disturb you, but I need a favor. The whole force has been called out because of a bad accident. I need someone to watch my daughter. I know she met your son, ’cause she told me all about ‘the cute new boy’ who just moved in. My God, they grow up fast any more. Jenna’s only nine and already noticing cute boys!” The voice was deep and definitely masculine. The cop next door. Oh goodie. She flipped the switch to turn on the porch light. In the glow of the yellow bulb she saw a tall man in the dark blue uniform of the Azurite Police Department. Against her better judgment, she unlocked the oldfashioned screen door and stepped back. “Come on in. I was just vegging out in front of the TV.” He was tall—very tall. Well over six feet if her assessment was right. He had cinnamon-colored hair and bright blue-green eyes. The map of Ireland was on his mug, as her mother used to say. Perhaps not movie-star gorgeous, he was still one good-looking man with wide shoulders, lean flanks and hips, long muscular legs, plus the definite hint of a very impressive masculine package inside those dark blue trousers. From her perusal of his attributes, Amy jerked back abruptly to his words as he continued. “Jenna’s asleep. I thought maybe I could just carry her over and put her on the couch. I don’t know when I’ll get back, so is it okay if she stays until morning? That way I won’t have to wake you up at some unholy hour.” 5

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“Er, sure. Let me get some bedding so she’ll be comfortable. Will she be okay waking up in a strange place?” He grinned. “Don’t go to any trouble. Jenna can sleep on a pile of rocks and not know the difference. She goes a mile a minute all day, but when she finally shuts down, dynamite won’t wake her up. She knows this apartment anyway. The folks who lived here before you had a girl a bit younger. They were together all the time.” That grin. Oh, Lordy, am I in trouble! I haven’t noticed a man in years but I am sure noticing this one. It’s the wrong place, the wrong time and probably the wrong man. Still, her heart had speeded up and her panties were getting damp. He left her standing bemused, returning in a couple of minutes with the sleeping child in his arms. The little girl had his russet hair in the next lighter shade and a tipped up nose sprinkled with penny-bright freckles. Long, inky lashes fanned out on freckled cheeks. “C.S told me Jenna’s mother died last year. I’m so sorry. That must be really difficult for both of you. Are there any other children?” This time his grin was rueful. “Can’t keep any secrets when you have kids, can you? No, Jenna’s an only child. Rita was pregnant when she got sick, but she lost the baby. She had one of those fast cancers. She was gone less than six months after the diagnosis. By the way, my name is Jack, Jack Maloney.” Jack eased the little girl down onto the couch. When he straightened, his head barely missing the old-fashioned overhead light fixture. He extended a hand. Amy met his clasp, sucking in a quick breath as lightning zinged up her arm from that simple touch. “I—I’m A—Angie Cochran,” she managed. “My son is Christopher but we—er—I call him C.S.” “Understand you’re in the process of a divorce. The boy said his father was abusive.” Amy nodded. “Yes, it came to the point we had to leave. I couldn’t 6

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see my son injured by his father’s temper tantrums. That was not a good example to be following, either.” Jack nodded. “Understand. Listen, I’ve got to go. Thanks for helping out with Jenna. Her regular sitter’s on vacation and at this hour of the night I hate to bother the elderly woman who sometimes fills in. If you need someplace to leave your boy now and then, I’ll help any time I’m home. Us single parents need to stick together.” In a clatter of booted feet on the wooden floor, he was gone. Amy tucked an afghan securely around the small girl who did appear to be sleeping very soundly. Then she headed for the bathroom to get ready for bed. Too bad she was not in the market for a new relationship right now. Jack was immensely appealing. Still, the fewer attachments she and C.S. made the less traumatic it would be if they had to move on again. She’d have to watch herself around Jack, though. It would be much too easy to be swept away by his charming blarney and that adorable little-boy smile. Maybe the police in Arizona were different. She could hope, although she knew back in Newark, the bulk of the force was not only in Stavros’ pockets, but perfectly happy to be there. When Conn or his father said “frog” all the blue-suiters leaped. She couldn’t be too careful. With computers and fast communications covering the country, a missing persons report could be here in hours. Then some good-old-boy’s agreement could have her and C.S. heading back east in protective custody much too soon. Amy’s experience told her that cops were not the safest of friends. She sighed as she slid between the sheets. The bed sagged in some spots, while others had lumps. One lump at the small of her back felt like a boulder. If she stayed here very long, somehow she’d try to get a better mattress. If…if only. No, I won’t even go there.

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CHAPTER 2

There was really not much she could do about it. Within a few days, C.S. and Jenna seemed to be joined at the hip. Any other time, Amy would have laughed, enjoying the bond the two children formed so effortlessly. No doubt both were lonely, sharing the pain of losing a parent, yet there seemed more to it than that. But this was not any other time. She still found herself looking for out-of-state cars, jumping when her cell phone rang, and unable to shake a sense of dread. Conn would find them. He had endless resources at his disposal. He also had to suspect she knew more than she ever let on about his nefarious “business.” Having such knowledge at large could be dangerous to the whole Stavros operation. Within a week Jenna had spent two more nights in their apartment. The first was when Jack was called out again and the next when C.S. invited her over to watch rented movies. Both children fell asleep in the middle of the second one and Amy didn’t have the heart to wake them. 8

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She had to admit Jenna was a charming little girl. Mischievous but basically sweet natured and surprisingly mature, she seemed both courteous and confident. Clearly Jack and her late mother had done a good job raising her, or else she was one of those rare children who inherently seemed to behave well. There had been times Amy had wished for another child, a sibling for C.S. so he would not grow up a lonely only as she had. Now, while she was just as glad not to have a second Stavros child, she could not ignore how easy it would be to take Jenna Maloney to her heart. To say nothing of Jenna’s father. *

*

*

“Come on, Angie. Everything’s arranged. I’ve got a sitter for the kids and reservations at Curly Bill’s Steak House. I owe you—you’ve been watching Jenna as much as my regular sitter lately. A mere dinner isn’t enough, but it’s a start.” Amy knew she ought to say no, firmly and with finality. She couldn’t. It had been too long since she’d enjoyed a few hours of masculine company without C.S. watching her every move, or without worrying how the evening would end. Would Conn get drunk and turn mean? Could she portray enough enthusiasm in bed to keep him from flying into a jealous rage? Looking back, the last three or four years had been an endless nightmare. “I don’t have any dressy outfits,” she stalled. “How fancy is this place?” Jack laughed. “Fancy is one thing Curly Bill’s isn’t. There’ll be folks there in shorts, jeans, whatever’s comfortable. You look fine just the way you are.” His bright gaze swept from her head to her pinkpainted toenails in her worn brown sandals. His eyes held admiration, appreciative warmth that heated an answering spot in Amy’s depths. She was flattered to be looked at that way again. It had been so long. No use being coy. She wanted this as badly as a child wanted 9

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Christmas to come. “Okay. I haven’t been buying much steak lately, I must admit. Not only the cost, but C.S. prefers pizza, hamburgers or hot dogs and it’s too much trouble to fix different meals for the two of us.” At first Jack’s use of “Angie” had sounded odd, but Angelica was her middle name and Angie came naturally from that. She’d even used it off and on, just not recently. Sooner or later she’d have to explain. If she stayed here that long, if she and Jack got that close. For now, Amy A. Maxwell did not exist. Cochran was her mother’s maiden name, one she felt comfortable with, and one that Conn probably would not quickly recall. Her family had never been important to him. She let Jack take her arm to lead her around the building to his big pickup. He opened the passenger door, then gave her a boost into the high cab. Every touch sent tingles of awareness zinging through her body. She was sure she had never been so turned on by simple, almost impersonal touches. It was scary. It was wonderful. It was the wrong place and time but still, it felt so damn good! On a Thursday evening the steak house, though a popular place, was not crowded. Jack laughed when he explained that odd days off did have their benefits. His weekend was normally Wednesday and Thursday. Regular weekends were generally too busy for a small town cop to be off. “Saturday night this place is normally packed. They’ll have a live band in the bar and people waiting for tables to empty. I could’ve got by tonight without a reservation, but I wanted us to have a good table. It’s been awhile since I was out with a pretty lady. If I don’t do everything just right, I hope you’ll forgive me.” “I haven’t been on many—er—out too much lately either. As far as I can tell you’re doing fine.” Under the table, which was a bit small, their knees bumped. Amy tried to draw back, but there was really nowhere to go. Jack’s long legs 10

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simply took up most of the available space. A few minutes later she realized both her knees were neatly trapped between his. The intimacy of that sensation shot darts of heat through her whole body, heat which settled low in her belly and started a flow of moisture between her legs. What is it about this guy? He’s got me ready to go up in smoke! The food was delicious. Ordinarily Amy would have totally enjoyed the meal. She did now, but that pleasure was tempered by her keen awareness of her companion, by the increasingly intimate gazes Jack sent her way and the deepening of his voice as he spoke. He shared some amusing anecdotes of funny, silly things that had happened during his law enforcement career. He even managed not to ask a single prying question, although curiosity shone in his eyes as he studied her. “You keep looking at me.” Her voice sounded unusually high and breathless. She had blurted the comment without thinking. “You’re mighty nice to look at, Angie. You can’t blame a guy for enjoying it while he has the chance.” A hot flush of embarrassment crept up her cheeks. She’d asked for that, walked right into it, if not actively soliciting the compliment. Although she might not be the most worldly wise, she was not normally gauche! This edgy feeling was both exciting and disturbing. It had her totally off balance. They finished off the meal with a sinfully delicious deep dish apple pie topped with ice cream and a cup of strong black coffee. Amy wasn’t sure whether she was more relieved or reluctant when the time came to leave. Again Jack took her arm and guided her smoothly out of the restaurant. This time he went straight to the driver’s side of the truck where he helped her climb in. She knew she ought to scoot over a little more to leave a small space between them, but the solid heat of Jack’s body felt too good. She could not deny herself the comfort of his thigh pressing against hers, the scent of his juniper-tinged aftershave tingling in her nose. His 11

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size and strength created a sensation of being vulnerable, yet protected. The drive up to the apartments seemed much too short. When they got out, Jack caught her by the waist to swing her down. Then, instead of taking her arm, he kept one arm around her, holding her close to his side as they strolled into the courtyard and across it to her door. They halted in the shadowed alcove just outside Amy’s apartment. “I hate to see this evening end. I could get used to your company real quick.” With his hands just above her hips, he turned her to face him, then held her gently with both arms around her waist. “I—I don’t know how long we’re going to be here,” Amy squeaked. “It might be a mistake to get too close. I’m already worrying about the kids, how difficult it will be for them when the time comes…” “Why would you leave? Isn’t this a nice place, a good, quiet town where you can raise your boy? Don’t you like it here? I know I could make more money working in Phoenix or Tucson, but I don’t want Jenna to grow up in a city with all the drugs, gangs and hazards.” Amy shook her head, struggling against blurting out her whole sordid tale. “I’m just worried about my ex finding us and causing problems. I’m sure he didn’t think I’d dare to leave, that I could survive on my own. When we don’t come crawling back soon, he’ll start searching. With modern technology, it isn’t hard to find people, even if they don’t want to be found.” She felt the sudden subtle tension in Jack’s body. Although he held her loosely, she was still close enough to feel the tightening of his muscles. “Nobody will harm you here, you or the boy. I’ll see to that. Anyone comes around asking questions, I’ll hear about it. That’s another thing about small towns—no secrets, especially from the cops. I guess we’re the biggest gossips around, but most of us are curious, interested. Information is our stock in trade.” 12

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Amy hesitated, took a slow breath and released it. “Let’s just take it a day at a time.” “We’ve got today then, and tonight.” Was kissing really safer than talking? Probably not, but that was what Amy told herself as he drew her closer, started to bend down. Although he was giving her ample time to draw back, she didn’t. She couldn’t. His warm lips tasted of coffee and cinnamon, as sweetly tempting as sin. There was no way in hell she could resist. She opened to him, savoring the invasion of his tongue, the erotic deepening of a simple kiss into something much more intense and intimate. She wanted this and so much more. Long denied needs erupted like lava bursting from an inner cauldron of heat. She tunneled her fingers into the short, crisp hair at the back of his neck, answered his tongue with thrusts of her own. The mindless hunger of pure lust swept over her, wiping out cautions, fears, even modesty. In the small of her back, his hand pressed her closer, bringing her against the power of his erection. An answering throb began inside of her, beyond where they pressed together. Her panties were wet and slick with her juices, her readiness for him evident. “Seems like we both have needs,” he said, his voice a muffled rumble against her forehead. “I think we should get them together.” Amy nodded, at that moment unable to speak. Fumbling her key from her small purse, she unlocked the door. Somehow they moved through it together, still entwined. Right now only one thing mattered. She needed this man like she needed the air she breathed. She needed to feel him inside her, to feel the weight and pressure of his body against hers, skin to skin and heart beating against heart. Surely something that felt so very right could not be wrong. In the back of her mind a small voice spoke a sly rationalization. How better to bind him to you and ensure his protection, his loyalty, than by filling 13

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his obviously urgent hunger? Buy security with sex? She’d never even considered such a thing before. She would have deemed it dangerous at best, if not downright immoral, but somehow this was different. His hands roamed urgently up and down her back as his agile mouth kissed here, nipped there and licked yet another sensitive spot. Together they sank onto the couch, Amy half sprawled across Jack’s lap. Everything about him excited her. The stubble of whiskers along his jaw, the ragged rhythm of his breathing, and the hard heat of his body were all wonderfully arousing. As she shifted to bring her lips back to his, her shirt pulled free from the waist of her capris. He found the gap in an instant. The gentle abrasion of his palm across the sheltered skin of her side shot sparks straight to her pussy. Was that small, needy whimper really hers? At first the intrusive sound did not register. Finally the insistent chime broke through her fog of lust. Her cell phone was ringing. Jack heard it, too, stopping his urgent plundering of her willing mouth. “I better answer it. Not many people have the number, so it might be important.” He nodded, making an obvious effort to calm down. “Sure, if you think you should.” The phone was in her purse. It took her a few more seconds to get it out and press the right button.

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CHAPTER 3

“Well, it’s about damn time.” The low, rough voice was not really familiar, yet the words carried enough Jersey accent to send a shudder through her body, one that quenched the heat immediately. She didn’t speak, didn’t want to admit her identity when she was unsure of the caller’s. “Where you at, girl? Conn’s really upset over what you done. This phone you’re using is out of California. That where you are?” “Y’all have the wrong number,” Amy said, trying to put a southern intonation on the words as a clumsy disguise for her normal voice. “Nah, I don’t think so. We’ll find you, babe. You can count on it. An’ when we do, you’ll regret taking off.” Amy jabbed the off button furiously. It had to be Conn’s uncle, his father’s half-brother Gus who did some of their rougher and dirtier jobs. Apparently they had traced her new phone somehow, but still did 15

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not know her actual location. Her thoughts raced in frantic desperation. Tomorrow this phone will be gone. I’ll get a regular local one instead and pay a deposit if I have to so as not to reveal a prior account. She didn’t realize she was trembling until she felt Jack’s hands, warm and steady on her shoulders. His voice was a low, comforting rumble. “It’s all right, honey. You’re safe and your son is safe. That was the ex, wasn’t it? Or someone who’s working with him.” Amy nodded. “They haven’t pinned down where we are yet, but somehow they traced this cell phone I recently acquired.” “This ex of yours must be one tough customer. You’re shaking like an aspen in a gale.” His fingers kneaded her shoulders gently, a rhythmic pressure that slowly drove the tension from her muscles. “You could say that. He’s got—well, connections to organized crime. Drug dealers, things like that.” She hated to say that much, but the point of pretence was almost past, the vague ideas of further escape and evasion growing more ephemeral. Where was left for her to go? “And probably some dirty cops on the payroll somewhere along the line, right? I sensed you weren’t comfortable with my uniform that first night.” Amy didn’t wonder how he knew. Even in small towns, things like that went on. “You wouldn’t—won’t—give us away, will you?” She wriggled free of his hands, then spun to face him, needing to watch his face while he framed an answer. Relief flooded through her so fast she almost collapsed when he answered at once, without any hesitance or equivocation. “Hell no! What kind of guy do you take me for, Angie? I’m not going to be making love to a woman one minute, then turning her over to some hood who’s mistreated her the next. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s crooked cops and the guys who buy them. I don’t know how you got mixed up with people like that, but we all do some dumb things when we’re young and naïve. Looks to me like you’ve paid enough for 16

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that mistake already.” Amy blinked hard. She hadn’t known she was going to cry until she felt the trickles of moisture start to slide down her cheeks. “Still, it would be better if we left. I don’t want anyone else to get involved in this mess. Someone innocent could get hurt.” Her voice was not quite steady, but she got the words out. “I don’t think so,” Jack said. “I’m here, right next door, close enough to watch out for you. This is a closed little town where a stranger stands out like a turd in the punchbowl. Anyone new shows up, they’ll be watched by a dozen eyes. I can’t think of a safer place for you to hang out right now. I bet you can’t either. Besides, I just found a gorgeous lady I’m not ready to let go of quite yet.” His teasing drew a reluctant smile from her. She shook her head. “Even if you weren’t named Maloney, I’d spot you for Irish from a mile away. You’ve got the gift of gab in spades.” “Only when I’m inspired. Now where were we when we were so rudely interrupted?” Amy scrubbed away the tears. “I’m not sure I can pick up where we left off,” she admitted. “That call was a shock.” He nodded, his expression turning serious. “I know. I’m just kidding, trying to lighten things up. I want you to know I’m here for you, though. I’ll stay the night and just hold you if that’s what you want, if it would help. Or I’ll sleep out here on the couch while you have the bedroom to yourself. I’ll even go home, but I doubt I’d sleep much.” Amy bit her lip. She wanted so badly to ask him to stay. The aftereffects of arousal still hummed along her nerves, accelerated by the adrenaline added by her fright. His gaze held hers, steady and warm, no less admiring than it had been before, no less full of desire and need. “If you’d like to stay, I think I’d be glad for the company. You can start out just holding me, but something tells me that’s not likely the 17

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end of it.” “That’s up to you, Angie. Whatever limits you set are what I’ll abide by. I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit I want you, but it doesn’t have to be right now, tonight or tomorrow, even next week.” He grinned, then turned serious again. “Don’t get me wrong. I like sex as well as the next guy and you’re one very sexy woman, but I also respect you. I understand you’ve been through some bad times that probably crop up in flashbacks now and then. When I’m sure you’re as ready and eager as I am, that’s when it’ll happen.” “Please stay.” Wordlessly, he opened his arms. She walked into their circle, buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder and let the warm, secure comfort enfold her. For weeks she had been strong, determined, showing a calm demeanor to her son and making fast decisions as they crossed the country. All at once her strength had run out. Jack offered comfort and at least temporary oblivion if she let the mutual attraction blaze again. The combination was too tempting to resist. His embrace felt so secure. Safe, in the arms of a cop yet. I hope I’m not making a terrible mistake. Regardless, right now she couldn’t push herself away from him to save her life. Even though she knew these platonic, comforting sensations could shift to a flash burn of lust in moments. It started with the tingle in her breasts where they pressed against the wall of his solid chest, electric energy that immediately had her nipples pebbling into hyper-sensitive buds, thrusting against the restraint of her bra. Heat began to pool low in her belly and settled in her womb, sending new fluid warmth rushing down to her pussy. She shifted slightly and came into firm contact with the urgent thrust of his cock, seeking her through the layers of their clothing. His hand, which had 18

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been gliding up and down her back in a soothing motion, lowered to cup one buttock. Around her waist, his other arm dragged her closer, almost grinding her pelvis against his groin. His fingers flexed, digging into the muscled curve of her ass. “You’re making me crazy, Angie. If you aren’t sure this is what you want, say something now, quick.” “I want. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life! Not only want, but need.” He swept her up into his arms and headed for the door to her room, as if he instinctively knew where to go. The night light in the bathroom cast enough of a glow to reveal the bed, the narrow path to the side on which she had been sleeping. The room was small, almost cramped. Maneuvering with care, Jack reached the side of the bed and laid her down. Standing beside the bed, looking down at her, he began to unbutton his shirt. After a stunned moment, Amy copied the action, flicking the buttons free on her blouse to shrug it off and toss it aside. Then she slid down the zipper and wriggled out of her capris. She’d worn her best set of undies tonight. I don’t think I expected the evening to end this way— or did I? I think I just wanted to feel pretty and feminine for a change. The champagne lace was just a shade darker than her skin. The bra shaped her breasts up and out into proud cones. A lace thong barely covered the darker triangle between her legs. For an instant, she hesitated, a flush of embarrassment sweeping over her in a wash of less-pleasant heat. How could I be so bold? Will he think me a slut when the heat of the moment has passed? He shed his shirt, revealing a muscled chest with a light furring of coppery hair dusting across it, surrounding his flat male nipples and trailing down his solid stomach to disappear behind his belt buckle. That flicked open next and then he lowered the zipper, the sound loud in the narrow room, silent except for their ragged breathing. The jeans 19

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fell, dragged by the weight of the trophy style buckle, exposing his dark blue jockey shorts, stretched by the erection that strained to burst free. She could not doubt now that he was a big man in every way—from the breadth of his shoulders to the sturdy thighs and, most of all, that eager cock. The sight of him sent all thought from her mind, banishing any concern for her own near-nude state. He kicked off his shoes and jeans, twisting to sit and then lie down beside her. “I want to look at you, but I want to touch more,” he said. He rolled to face her, reaching out to place one hand on her bare stomach. With the palm, he traced a wide, lazy circle on her flesh, then another. Shivers of delight danced along her nerves, but she wanted more. She caught his wrist to lift his hand to her breast. He ran a fingertip along the edge of the lacy cup, found the clasp between the cups and flicked it loose. He brushed the lace aside, circled her nipple once and then plucked at it with his thumb and forefinger. That shot searing darts of desire through her whole body. She started to reach for him, but he pushed her hand back. “No, just relax and enjoy for now. Let me take care of you first. Tell me what you like, what you need, or show me. I want to learn all your hot buttons, every special pleasure spot on your body.” “It’s been so long,” she gasped. “I didn’t realize how much I needed…” Without her having to ask, he bowed his head to take her other breast into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the taut nipple, teasing, tormenting. Finally he drew it between his lips and began to suck. With skilled fingers, he continued to play with the other so it didn’t feel neglected. She felt as if she could almost come simply from that, but she knew she needed more. Speech was impossible. Mutely, she arched, writhing, begging wordlessly for the intimate caresses her body craved. Leaving her 20

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breasts, he nibbled along her collarbone and circled his tongue into the hollow of her throat. Meanwhile, his hand went south, slipping with excruciating slowness down her belly to pause, at last, on her mound, where he rocked it with a gentle pressure. She moaned. Then he delved beneath the fragile triangle of lace, slipping a finger between the folds of her labia into the wet warmth they sheltered. Of their own volition, her thighs spread, opening her secrets to his exploration. Within moments, his finger was slick with her juices. Unerringly he found the spot and slipped inside her, probing and retracting in a slow rhythm. Tiny contractions flickered along her inner muscles as they involuntarily sought to hold the invading digit and draw it deeper. Through the fragile lace, he found her clit and began to rub around it with his thumb. She bucked, arching into his caresses as need built within her, spiraling higher and hotter as he continued to tease her. “Jack, please, I need, I want…Oh, my God! Oh yes, yes, yes!” The climax came suddenly, bursting forth like an erupting geyser. He continued to torment her until she begged him to stop, sure that she could stand no more, at least for a few minutes. She lay limp while the aftershocks pulsed and finally faded. When her vision cleared, she looked up to see Jack watching her with a smug smile. “I don’t need to ask if it was good,” he said. “Your expression says it all.” “That didn’t take care of your needs, though. Let me do for you now.” “Don’t feel obligated.” “I don’t. I just want to pleasure you, too, to be able to give in return.” “You aren’t too tired?” Amy shook her head fiercely. “No! I’m fine. I can feel you, there against my leg, still as hard as a gun barrel.” 21

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When she reached this time, he let her. She found his cock, clasping her hand around him through the soft fabric of his shorts. His prick bucked against her hand. Carefully, she worked the waistband down to free him, until finally she could wrap her fingers all the way around the velvet-covered heat of his steely erection. Each heartbeat throbbed against her grasp. The vitality beating through that most male part of him amazed her. Before this, she had always thought the masculine habit of giving names to their penises was a little silly. Now she understood. Jack’s erect cock seemed to have an identity, a force and life of its own. Such a presence deserved a name. She had no idea what he called it. Conn had several names for his, mostly in Greek and rather ostentatious. They always made her want to giggle, which would have been most unwise and probably dangerous. There was nothing funny about Jack’s rod at all. It was magnificent. She didn’t care if he called it Aloysius! She twisted to sit up, settling on her knees at his side. There was no way she would get all of that into her mouth, but she could tease and entice a while. Jack lay still, watching her through half-closed eyes. A sudden smile flickered across his mobile lips. She realized then that her breasts bobbed as she stroked his cock, the motion rocking her body slightly. “Yes,” he said. “That’s good, just like that.” After a couple more strokes, she bent forward and traced around the head with the tip of her tongue. His flesh was hot and tasted salty. Leaning down farther, she ran her tongue the length of the underside, from his balls to the slit in his tip. She could feel his heartbeat in each surging blood vessel beneath the chamois-soft skin. His breath quickened before he gave a faint moan. He’d shut his eyes and his face was drawn taut in anguished pleasure. Opening her mouth wide, she took him in, first sliding over the 22

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head and then going down the shaft until the tip touched the back of her throat. Pressing with her tongue, she slipped back along the length until only the last bit of the head lingered between her lips. Then she drew him in again, sucking gently this time. He groaned aloud. “Angie, Angie, you’re going to make me come too soon. It’s a piece of heaven, but I want to come inside you, together the first time.” He sat up, caught her shoulders to push her back before she could do anything more. “On your back, woman. Here I come, ready or not.” She had to laugh, since his words were essentially a double entendre. Had he spoken harshly, like a command, she might have reacted differently, but she knew he was kidding her. She rolled onto her back and opened to him. He knelt between her knees and took a moment to look at her. “My God, you’re amazing. So damned beautiful it almost scares me. What did I ever do to deserve you?” Concentrating on his words was hard for her because he had taken his cock in one hand and rubbed the tip along her slit. The motions spread the new flow of juices that had begun even while she had been going down on him. Impatience seized her. “Come on, quit teasing and fuck me.” She would never have dared make such a demand of Conn, but Jack was totally different. With him she could be free and open, not stopping to weigh every action and word upon how he was likely to respond. “Patience, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you. You said it’s been a while and I’m pretty big.” Even as he spoke, he brought his cock to her entrance and pushed, just a gentle nudge. He was big, but she was wet and ready, as relaxed as she could be when aroused to the brink of madness. Enough of this easing in. She lifted her hips from the bed and impaled herself on him, simultaneously clutching his muscled cheeks to pull him down. Caught by surprise, he couldn’t resist. He drove into 23

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her, all the way. She felt his balls bump on her butt as the first shivery contraction began, somewhere behind her navel. After that, she didn’t notice anything except the accelerating rhythm of his pumping thrusts, in and out, harder and faster and deeper each time. He yelled something unintelligible as he came. That spurt triggered her orgasm. She knew she milked him dry before he collapsed to one side, his chest heaving with the struggle to breathe. They were both slick with sweat. Dizzy and weak with the intensity of her second climax in less than an hour, Amy felt wonderful. There wasn’t anything quite like good—no, make that fantastic—sex to set the world right, at least for a while. On that thought, she faded into sleep, for the moment too relaxed to worry about anything.

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CHAPTER 4

Amy awoke to the sound of a door closing softly. The bedding was still warm from Jack’s body, but he was gone. Through the gap where the drape did not quite fit snug against the wall, she could see the first hint of sunrise coloring the eastern sky. Although she wished he’d wakened her to say goodbye, she knew he was wise to leave before anyone would see him or the children might wake up. He’d told her the sitter often stayed all night, sleeping on the trundle bed in Jenna’s room, so that was not an issue. Her whole body felt sated. A lingering tenderness around her pussy and sensitivity in her breasts remained to remind her of the vigorous loving she had received. Well, she had given just as good in return. It was too late for second thoughts, although questions would probably soon have to be asked and answered. She could not regret what they had done, even if a one-night stand would complicate her life still further. 25

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In the silent morning she lay quietly, feeling, thinking. Should she go or stay? It would be hard now to slip away and leave town without Jack knowing. If she did, where would she go now? How could she uproot C.S. yet again when he had made a friend and was settling into a new life? Yet what would she do though if Conn or Gus Stavros came here looking for her? True, Jack was a police officer and surely had training, but could a small town cop deal with big city hoods and come out ahead? Might they be able to convince the chief of police that she had run away, perhaps taken something not hers, and should be made to go back to New Jersey with them? The idea of harm coming to Jack because of her sent an icy wave of anguish to her depths. He might be disciplined or even lose his job if he opposed the order of his boss to let her go. He could be shot, beaten or who knew what if he made a stand to defend her. Even if they never shared another moment, he was too good a man to suffer because of her. Worries played a cat and mouse game, chasing around in her mind until her thoughts were as tangled as C.S.’s dangling shoelaces. How could her body feel so good and her mind so bad? While she longed to lie abed and relive the night, it was a luxury she could not currently afford. At the very least, she had to get rid of the cell phone and find a replacement. Meanwhile she did not dare let C.S. out of her sight. If only to hurt and spite her, Conn would surely snatch the boy if he got a chance. Blinking back useless tears of self-pity, she forced herself out of bed, showered and dressed. She was drinking her first cup of coffee when C.S. came home, bright-eyed and eager to talk. “I wanna be called Stan,” he announced. “C.S. sounds stupid and I don’t want to use Conn like dad did. Stan is part of it, though, Constan-tine. I’d rather be something like Jack, but Stan isn’t a bad name. 26

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It sounds like a man, not some sissy kid or something.” Amy managed not to smile. “Stan, huh? I’ll try to remember. You try not to get mad if I forget sometimes, though, okay? It may take me a while to get used to it.” He nodded, serious in a child’s way. “Okay, if you really try. Jenna said she thought Stan was a good name, too. She says don’t ever call her Jenny. Jenna is short for Jennifer and sometimes people call Jennifers Jenny, but she says not her.” “What would you like for breakfast? We need to eat and get going. I’ve got to run some errands today and I want you to come with me.” “Aw, do I have to? Jenna said maybe we could go down to the park and play with her skateboard. I don’t wanna go run dumb errands. That’s boring.” “Hey, none of that now. Stans don’t whine. That’s a little kid thing.” He stuck his lip out for a few minutes, but the whining stopped. When no request came, Amy got out the cereal box with the super hero on the front, one of his favorites. The brand had too much sugar, but it had whole grain and real fruit in it, so she rationalized that her son could eat the stuff without too much harm. She watched as he took down a bowl and poured in cereal and milk. His face seemed to be shaping into more angular lines, losing the baby roundness that had been there just yesterday. He moved in ways totally masculine and made gestures that reminded her of her dad as much as of his own father. Her little boy was already growing up. Nine was just short of ten and that was almost on the verge of becoming teenager. Damn it, I will keep him out of Conn’s clutches. I’ll find a place we can live in peace and have a real home, so he can go to the same school until he graduates and live a normal life. I won’t let them terrorize me into acting foolishly. Running now is what they’ll expect me to do, so I’ll stay put, at least for a little longer. 27

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Three days passed without any more calls or any other clue that Conn and the Greek gang were closing in. Amy began to relax again. Maybe she’d gone into a tailspin for nothing. Maybe they won’t come after all. Yeah, oh yeah. Maybe the moon really is made of green cheese, too. Of course C.S.—no, Stan—was unconcerned. She had done all she could to let him stay that way. Then there was Jack… She could no more stop thinking about Jack than she could fly. He’d been putting in some extra shifts so she had hardly seen him since that night. Jenna had explained, in a child’s earnest way, how one officer was sick and her dad and the others were sharing the older man’s time so he could stay on the payroll until his doctors decided if he could come back to work or not. Apparently Jenna was quite fond of “Papa Zeke” and felt the other officers’ plan came near sainthood. Although Amy appreciated the gesture and the indicated solidarity of the department, she could not help worrying. Was Jack having second thoughts about a relationship after the night they had enjoyed? Did it mean a quarter as much to him as it had to her? Did the mere thought of the intimacy and ecstasy they had shared send a melting, sweet, wet warmth flooding through him as it did her? However much she tried, there were times when confidence and self-esteem were hard to come by. Conn had done his best to break her. He had not succeeded, but sometimes she thought he’d come very close. Eventually maybe she’d be able to erase all of that from her mind, wipe it from her soul. It hadn’t happened yet, though. Without the glow of Jack’s admiration surrounding her, she went back to feeling inadequate, less than fully feminine and desirable. Perhaps she should have been grateful that someone like Conn wanted her for his common-law wife and not been so foolish as to run just because he lost his temper at times and was verbally abusive. How 28

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many times had he told her just that—how lucky she was and how undeserving? As she subtracted the cost of the new telephone from her ready cash, new dismay hit her. That sum was dwindling much too quickly. She’d have to find a job soon because there was no way she’d go on welfare. C.S. had to eat. He’d also need new clothes and shoes for school. Then there was rent, utilities, and gas for the van, as well. What kind of work would be available in a town like Azurite? Her experience was next to nothing and she had no references she dared use. For a moment she rested her head on her hand, shut her eyes and tried to fight back the panic threatening to swallow her whole. Maybe she dozed for a few seconds. Maybe she was just too absorbed in her misery. At any rate, the sharp sounds of someone stepping up on the stoop, followed by a rap on the screen door jolted her to awareness. The man silhouetted against the sunlit courtyard was bulky, seemed too broad for his height. Gus. Oh, my God. Oh, no. Where’s C.S.? “You can open the door or I can bust it down…your choice.” The grating voice confirmed her identification of the man. “I’m coming.” She crossed the room in a few swift steps, reached to flip the old-fashioned hook free. “Where’s Conn? Am I not important enough for him to come after me himself?” “He’s outside, waitin’ for the boy.” Oh, please, God, keep C.S. safe and out of sight. Amy thought he had gone somewhere with Jenna and the teenager who watched her during the day. Maybe the park? She’d been too sunk in her own misery to listen attentively when he’d come in earlier to ask if he could go. When had he said they’d be back? Surely in time for lunch. Her gaze slid to the clock on the kitchen wall. Eleven-fifteen. Don’t come home before twelve-thirty. Please don’t come back before that. She stepped aside to allow Gus Stavros to enter. There was no use 29

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trying to keep him out. He could smash the flimsy screen door with one good shove. He looked around the small room, a sneer on his swarthy face. “Great place you got here. A real mansion. You’re a dumb broad, leaving what Conn gave you for this. It’s clear you haven’t found a new sugar daddy yet.” “Save your insults. They don’t mean a thing to me. Sometimes freedom is just not having anything to lose.” “Oh, you got somethin’ to lose, babe. The boy. Still, if you’ll sign over your parental rights, maybe Conn’ll be willing to take him and go home. Let you whore around or whatever you want to do. In the long run, the kid will just tie you down.” Before she could answer, a second figure appeared at the door. “Amy, is that you? Why did you take off? That was a stupid stunt. Surely you knew I’d find you.” Jerking the door open, Conn strode into the room. He swept the small space with a contemptuous glance. “Where’s my son?” “He’s not here right now. He’s out with some friends.” Amy backed away, putting what distance she could between them. It wasn’t far enough. “You better not be lying to me.” Conn’s hands closed on her shoulders, his fingers digging into her flesh like iron talons. He gave her a shake. “I…I’m not. He’s off playing, I swear it. He’ll be home in a little while.” Her voice wobbled as he shook her again, harder this time. Her neck snapped painfully with the force of it. “I ought to slap you senseless,” he grated. “I’ve wasted over a month tracking you down. Well, you’re coming back now and there’s no way you’ll have a chance to leave again. You can count on that, bitch.” Amy twisted, trying to pull free of his punishing grasp. She kicked 30

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out, catching him a glancing blow on the shin. “Damn you, let me go. You have no right to demand that I do anything. I’m not your wife, never was. I didn’t take one thing from that house of yours. Everything I have now came from my family.” The crack of his palm against her cheek stunned her into silence. “Shut your fucking mouth. You did, too, take something—you took my son and I’m not letting him go. Where is he? Tell me and Gus will go get him. He can’t be far in this pitiful Podunk town.” Amy shook her head, even as tears of pain and rage spilled from her eyes. “You’re not in New Jersey now. You don’t own the cops here or have any political clout, so you’d better back off.” “I’m going to hurt you, you stupid whore. I’m going to make you sorry for everything you’ve done.” He raised his hand, this time clenching his fist. Instinctively, she ducked.

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CHAPTER 5

“I don’t think so.” The deep voice sounded from just outside the door. “Police officers. Step back and put your hands on top of your heads.” Jack had never looked more beautiful than he did as he swept through the screen door, service pistol held in a steady hand. How did he get here so quickly? I hope he has some back-up. If not, he was out-numbered two to one. She didn’t think either Conn or Gus was a push-over. Gus raised his hands obediently, clearly too wise to challenge a ready nine-millimeter. He might seize an advantage if the opportunity arose, but for now he did not resist. Conn began to bluster. “You can’t do this. You’re interfering in a custodial situation that doesn’t concern local authorities. I’ll have your badge so fast your head will spin.” “I don’t think so,” Jack repeated. “You’re already guilty of assault 32

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and battery. The mark is right there on the lady’s face. Don’t even think of adding an assault on an officer engaged in the discharge of his duties to your crimes. Toto, ya ain’t in Kansas any more. Shut up and raise your hands.” Conn’s right hand twitched, shifted as if to brush back one side of the expensive ivory linen blazer he wore. Jack leveled the pistol at the center of the other man’s body. “I wouldn’t try that if I were you.” Finally Conn obeyed the order with a reluctance that did not bode well for a peaceful solution. Amy backed away from him then, edging toward the door. If C.S. showed up, she would at least stop him from coming in. Did Conn actually carry a weapon? She had never seen him with one, but that didn’t mean anything. When she glanced outside, she saw two other officers in the yard. One watched the big Lincoln parked at the curb. The other stood just a long stride off the doorstep, attentive and ready to come to Jack’s aid if help was needed. Relief flooded through her. Jack hadn’t come alone. But how had he known? At that moment a hint of movement drew her gaze across to the doorway to Jack’s apartment. Two small figures were barely visible inside the screen door. Jenna and C.S. They seemed to be watching the proceedings with keen interest, but also keeping very quiet. Could they have called for help, perhaps when they saw the strange car? Jack’s calm voice recalled her to the situation unfolding in her kitchen. He leaned casually against the counter, but his pistol was still held in one hand, not quite pointed straight at Conn’s midsection. “The way I see it, you have a choice because I’m giving you one. I can arrest you and take you to jail right now on assault and battery charges. I saw you hit Ms. Cochran. Here in Arizona we don’t take abuse of women and kids casually, so you can expect high bail and the maximum sentence. On the other hand, if you both hop back in that big, 33

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shiny car and get out of the state as fast as possible, I don’t imagine the authorities would feel extradition was worthwhile. “So long as you don’t set foot in Arizona again or harass or disturb this lady in any way, we might find it expedient to let this incident pass. It’s up to you.” Conn growled a curse under his breath, fidgeting. Amy could see a trickle of sweat running down the side of his face. Facing Jack, he looked a great deal smaller and less confident than she remembered him. In fact, he looked like nothing more than the petty hood he was, a bully and a loud mouth, but no match for a real man. Gus glanced at Conn, at Jack and back again at Conn. “She ain’t worth it, boy,” he muttered. ”There’s plenty of women in Jersey and you can make more kids with any of them. We’re a long way from home, so we might not be able to buy you out of this.” “We’ll go,” Conn said finally. He shot one malevolent glare at Amy before he turned toward the door, most of his normal cocky assurance gone. Jack put out one hand to stop him. “You’ll leave this lady strictly alone, not bother her or her child in any way, right? No one in your hire or at your direction will approach her. There will be no legal action attempted against her either.” Conn darted a venomous look at Jack before giving a stiff nod. “You have my word on it, copper.” “Your word isn’t worth dog shit, but that’s okay. Get your sorry ass out of here.” Moments later the Lincoln screamed away to disappear in a cloud of dust, heading for the quickest way out of Azurite. As soon as it vanished, Jenna and C.S. burst from the opposite door to come tearing across the courtyard. Even before they clattered in through the kitchen door, Amy had reached Jack, throwing herself into his arms. The children exchanged a quick look, but did not comment on the 34

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embracing adults. However, Jenna tugged at Jack’s arm, looking up at him with a mixture of awe and anxiety. “We called the dispatcher, Daddy. We’d just come back from the park when we saw that big car pull up. When we called, Emmy said you were already following it. C., I mean Stan, got the license number by looking out the window of my room between the slats of the blind. Then Emmy said that was the one you were going after.” “I didn’t want to go back to New Jersey,” C.S. put in. “I saw it was Dad and his Uncle Gus when I was trying to read the number, but I knew that was what they’d want us to do. I don’t want to go back. This is a cool place. I want to stay here.” Amy smiled down at the two excited kids and then up at Jack, blinking back her tears. He touched the red mark on her face with gentle fingertips. “I should’ve gotten here just a little quicker. Then you wouldn’t have this.” “It’s okay. You were in time. Nothing really bad happened. Everything is going to be all right now.” “Damn straight. Now that he knows you’ve got protection, I doubt if your ex will be bothering you any more. Zeke Cantrell’s disability retirement has been approved, so no more extra shifts for a while. As soon as I get off this afternoon, I’ll be here. I’ve missed you.” “I’ve missed you too,” Amy said. “I’ll try to show you just how much.” Before he could say more, the radio on Jack’s belt crackled. Then the dispatcher’s voice sounded. “APD to Car 12. Is everything code four with that out-of-town car?” “Yep, all code four. I’ll be signing back on the air momentarily.” Jack turned to Amy. “I have to go, sweetheart, but I already arranged for Suzie to take the kids to see the new Disney film this evening. We’ll have two or three hours alone while they’re gone.” “That sounds wonderful.” 35

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Amy was ready and waiting when she heard Jack’s truck drive up. She’d seen Suzie Preston leave with the two children about fifteen minutes earlier. Still, she was surprised when Jack came directly to her door, not even going home to change out of his uniform. Although she was seriously under-dressed, she went to the door to meet him anyway. She couldn’t wait another second for his touch. It seemed to her that he stepped into the room and enfolded her in his arms in a single smooth motion. Clad only in a filmy negligee, one of the few impractical garments she had brought from her former home, she was glad it was not one Conn had given her. With hunger and delight singing through her, she let herself melt against Jack, savoring his hard, warm body. His burgeoning erection nudged at her belly as she pressed close. This proof he wanted her as eagerly as she wanted him reassured her. It was all she could do not to babble her relief. So many fears had plagued her since the wonderful night they had shared over a week ago. Now those issues no longer seemed significant. He was here and heaven beckoned, less than an arm’s length away. After a long moment in which she almost tried to burrow into Jack, Amy drew back. With unsteady hands, she released the buckle of his gun belt and hung it on one of the chairs at the dinette. Then she began to unbutton his shirt, stopping before she tugged it free of his trousers to rub her hands over the silken heat of his torso. “I love the feel of your body, the smoothness of your skin and the hardness of muscle beneath it. You’re so beautifully masculine, so perfect.” He settled his hands on her shoulders, gentling his clasp when he saw the shadowy marks of bruises that Conn’s fingers had left. He shook his head. “I was too easy on the son-of-a-bitch. I didn’t realize he’d hurt you as much as he had. If I’d known, I would’ve stomped a 36

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mud hole in his sorry ass before I let him go, but he’ll never touch you again. I promise you that.” “You can kiss it and make it all better,” Amy suggested in a breathy whisper. “Oh, I will. I’ll kiss every precious, lovely inch of you, darlin’.” Reaching up between them he caught one end of the ribbon with which the negligee tied at the neckline. With exquisite slowness, he tugged at it, watching as the bow slipped and finally came undone. The fabric slithered off her shoulders to drop in a cloudy puddle at her feet, leaving her clad only in her birthday suit. For a long moment, Jack’s gaze feasted on her feminine form so temptingly displayed before him. Amy felt that look as keenly as a touch, but it was not enough. She needed his hands, his lips on her flesh. She grabbed his hand, lifting it to her right breast. It swelled to fill his hand, the nipple pebbling into his palm. He squeezed the firm globe gently and kneaded the tender flesh. She gave a faint moan as pleasure, intense as pain, flooded through her. “Yes, oh yes. I love your hands on me.” He bent then to rain kisses across the faint purpling marks on her upper arms, to trace his tongue along her collarbone, and into the hollow at the base of her throat. Then he moved on to edge the shell of each ear with his tongue, delivering a moist and titillating caress. Meanwhile, he whispered everything he intended to do to her. Before he was done, she was wet and burning with desire, so weak she could hardly stand. Her pussy throbbed with need for the powerful thrusts of his cock, the tantalizing torture of his tongue and lips on her most private and intimate parts. “Make love to me, Jack. Lick me and fuck me and drive me crazy!” “With pleasure, dear lady. I’ll do all of that and more.” They drifted toward the bedroom door, sharing kisses. When she pulled his shirt tails free, he shrugged the garment off. Moments later, 37

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she undid his belt buckle and eased the zipper down over his cock. It threatened to burst free of his shorts when the trousers fell away. He sat on the edge of the bed while she tugged off his boots and dragged his pants free of his legs. Then he hauled her down on top of him. The abrasion of the crisp hair on his chest against her sensitized breasts was exquisite. Nothing had ever felt quite so good as their two bodies melding together with nothing between them. However, building heat and tension soon demanded even more. Jack rolled to place Amy on her back on the bed. True to his promise, he began to drop feathery kisses along her arms and shoulders, moving slowly down to her breasts. He lavished each one with tender hunger, sucking at her distended nipples and laving the sensitized flesh with sizzling strokes of his tongue. He kissed along the curving arch of her bottom ribs before stopping to dip his tongue into the small indentation of her navel. “You look gorgeous, you feel wonderful, you smell heavenly and you taste incredibly sweet. I’m one lucky man.” His teasing glance met hers as he spoke. He’d lifted his head, briefly stopping the amorous assault on her body. She loved his compliments, but she loved his seduction more. “Don’t stop yet. You haven’t done everything you said you would.” “Oh? What am I forgetting?” “You said you’d lick me.” “I have.” “But not my…my pussy.” He arched an eyebrow. “Do you want that?” “Oh yes, desperately!” “Patience, I’ll get there.” Again he bent his head and proceeded slowly down across her abdomen, pausing at the edge of the dark triangle of hair that guarded her sex. He drew in a slow deep breath as if inhaling her scent. When he exhaled, it came out in a low growl, the 38

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sexiest sound she had ever heard. Her whole body trembled. She fought to lie still, to wait for him to set the pace, but the slightest delay seemed like torture. He shifted to kneel between her legs, pushing them apart to give himself total access to her. Finally, he reached to part her folds, exposing the moist pink hollow and the throbbing pearl of her clit. The cool, damp air from the vent overhead seemed to make her even more sensitive. When his tongue finally touched her clit, she almost screamed, but he barely brushed it, just once. He teased her with the lightest of licks, then long, slow laps from her ass to her clit, stopping just short of the aching little bud. Her hands clenched and released, clawing into the sheets on either side of her hips. “Oh…my…God. I’m going to die! Please, you’re torturing me!” Finally his lips closed around her clit and he drew on it, sucking gently while he slipped first one finger and then two into her channel and pumped them slowly in and out. She felt the muscles inside clench into a spasm, then suddenly erupt in pulsing waves. The climax pounded through her like a rolling earthquake. As the final quivers died away, she lay limp, too shaken and sated to move. A few tears leaked from beneath her closed lids. She felt the bed shift and knew Jack moved, returning to lie beside her. Soft as a butterfly, his finger skimmed her cheek, wiping away the tears. “What’s wrong, baby? Wasn’t it good? Why the tears?” “Not bad tears, tears of release, of relief. My nightmare is over and you’re here with me. Women sometimes cry from joy.” He gathered her into his arms, pressing her face into the hollow of his shoulder. Snuggling close, she inhaled the intoxicating scent of man. Equal parts sweat and musk, the tantalizing odor of bliss surrounded her. After a few minutes she stirred. “It should be your turn now. We 39

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only have about forty-five minutes until the movie is over and the kids come home.” His clasp on her tightened. “No, this time is about you, about celebrating your freedom from fear and a clear way to stay here. About reassuring you how very precious and special you are and how much you mean to me already, in just a few short days.” He trailed kisses along her hairline, then brushed his lips softly over the shadowy bruise on her cheek where Conn’s slap had marked her. “There’ll be many more times to share. Some of them will be my turn to be indulged and some will be yours. Others will be for both of us. Before long the kids will get used to us being together. In fact, from the speculative look I saw pass between them when they came pelting in to find you in my arms this afternoon, they are not going to be unhappy about it at all.” Amy laughed softly. “C.S., or Stan, since that’s what he says he wants to be called, will probably go “yuck” about the “mushy stuff,” but maybe Jenna can help him accept it. In spite of that, I think he’ll like having a father figure he can look up to without any doubts. I know he’ll enjoy feeling safe and comfortable, knowing he isn’t going to get knocked across the room because he’s in the wrong place at the right time.” Jack’s body tensed for a moment. “No kid should have to endure that. Your son is a good kid, all boy, but a damn good kid. I guarantee he won’t have to worry about that around me.” Amy slipped off the bed, gathered Jack’s scattered clothes and found some for herself as well. Just in time for they heard Suzie’s muffler-less car drive up and then the children’s excited chatter. By then they were both decent and didn’t look too much like they had just gotten out of bed. Amy followed Jack to the living room to let the children in. “Soon, when we have time, I want to tell you our whole story. It’s past the time 40

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for secrets or unanswered questions. I don’t have any more doubts about trusting you. They vanished when you came through that door like an avenging angel. Conn blustered, but I think he was ready to pee his pants when you fixed that gun on him!” She chuckled at the memory. It had felt so good to see her nemesis brought down. Jack snorted, the sound laden with disgust. “That sorry bastard had better never show up around here again. If he does, he can expect to get beaten to a pulp. No petty hood messes with my woman and my kids.” His possessive words and tone sent joyful tingles racing through Amy, stirring both her heart and her pussy. At last she had found a real man, a good man who would take care of her every need. She’d do her best to meet all of his as well and she’d love every minute of it. Her long journey had brought her home—to be protected and seduced.

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DEIRDRE O’D ARE Deirdre O’Dare, who also writes contemporary romance as Gwynn Morgan, has loved reading and writing since early childhood. She started writing—simple verses and paraphrases of Nancy Drew and Zane Gray—before she was out of grade school and finally settled into romantic fiction in the last decade after leaving her “day job” as a civilian employee of the U.S. Army. She lives in Arizona and frequently sets her stories in the Southwest she knows and loves, but now and then another locale calls to her creativity and she strays, even as far as prehistoric Greece and places that exist only in her imagination. *

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Don’t miss Portrait Of A Cowboy, by Deidre O’Dare, available at AmberHeat.com

Sports photographer Kim is down on cowboys. Since her divorce, she is determined to go it on her own. Most of the rodeo crowd knows she won't date a performer. When she literally trips over hunky Wolf Voegler, however, she has to rethink her rule. Swept away by his gorgeous looks and his European charm, she rationalizes: surely one dinner date won't hurt…or even one unforgettable night of passion. Before it is over, though, she finds herself wanting more than just a portrait of this cowboy as a keepsake...

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