Back in the Saddle (12 page)

He shifted his weight. “Just trying to keep up with what’s going on in my little corner of the world. I heard you were living in some fancy condo in Florida.”

“Why, Sheriff,” she drawled. “I didn’t know you kept up with my activities.”

Gritting his teeth, he barely held onto his temper. “We have a newspaper here in Amen, in case you forgot. And surprise, surprise. I have a computer and know how to use it.”

“Oh. Well, then.” She unclenched her fists and shoved her hands in her jeans pockets. “I’m sure you read all about my big scandal and just salivated over my fall from grace.” Her voice had a spiteful quality to it.

“We don’t get that much to talk about here in Amen,” he retorted, determined to give it right back to her. “Local girl makes bad is a hot topic of conversation.”

She stared at him again, then turned to walk toward the kitchen. “Coffee should be ready now. If you’re going to grill me, you might as well have a cup.”

He hated the fact that the movement of her hips still mesmerized him and his fingers curled with the remembrance of touch. Common sense told him to refuse the coffee and get the hell out of there. Forget about anything but staying away from her. But then, he’d had plenty of times when he and common sense didn’t even shake hands.

He distracted himself while waiting by glancing at his surroundings. The inside of the house didn’t look any better than the outside. Scarred wood floor. Walls covered in grimy paint without a picture or anything to relieve the depressing sight. Furniture worn down to the bare bones. Dust everywhere.

He spotted the cleaning supplies on the chipped Formica counter. She’d need a lot more than soap and disinfectant to make this place habitable. And no matter how much she scrubbed, she’d never get the stink of whiskey or the dark presence of her miserable father out of it.

“So,” her voice broke into his train of thought. “Tell me.” She was busy taking chipped mugs out of a cupboard and filling them. “How did someone like you end up sheriff of Diablo County? I thought for sure you’d be on the inside of the jail looking out.”

Zane’s gut clenched and bile rose in the back of his throat. “You mean, how did the good citizens manage to elect a half-breed to keep the peace? Maybe they figured I could run around with my tomahawk and scalp anyone who pissed me off.”

“Damn it, Zane.” She whirled, her eyes burning into him like wildfire. “That’s not what I meant at all.”

“Oh, no?” he challenged. “You made it very plain when you left here that I had nothing to offer you. Me and my kind, you said. No mistaking your words. You couldn’t get away from me and Amen fast enough.”

“Is that what you thought? Well, you’re wrong. The only one ever sensitive about your Comanche blood was you. That had nothing to do with my reasons for walking away from you.”

“Yeah, right. Your alcohol-rotted father couldn’t have made it any plainer. And you were right there with him when he made his little speech.”

“One loser was the same as another to me. No matter what he said, I wasn’t talking about just you but all the losers in this stinkhole. Your heritage had nothing to do with it, and you damn well should have known it.” She poured the hot liquid into the mugs.

“Should I?” He accepted the mug she handed him. Their fingers brushed, and he had to work to control the shock at the electricity the brief contact generated. Oh, god, this was worse than he thought.

“Anyway, that wasn’t the reason I asked the question. I just want to know how someone wilder than the wind ends up as a lawman.”

His face hardened. “We all change, Jamie. You certainly did.”

Her laugh was like ice falling on glass, not tinkling but chilling. “So this call is really all about my recent notoriety, right? Well, here’s the long and short of it. I’ve joined a very elite group of reporters who got scammed and drummed out of the corps. Lawsuits and legal fees broke me, and the condo was the first thing to go. I’m back here because I have no other choice.” Her mouth twisted in a caricature of a smile. “Does that give you the satisfaction you were looking for, lawman?”

“Listen, Jamie—”

“I’ll bet you’ve read every story about my firing, all about how I’ve been blackballed in the industry, and enjoyed the hell out of it. Right?” She took a healthy swallow of coffee, grimacing as she realized how hot it still was. “But that’s okay, Zane. You can join a very big crowd.” She watched him over the rim of her mug. “Listen, I’ve got stuff to do so say what you came to say and get out.”

He leaned against the wall, trying to get a fix on her. He couldn’t help the way his eyes swept over her body. He wondered if anyone could look as disheveled as she did and still exude raw sex. She was still lithe and toned, and the memory of those graceful legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper into her, made him want to pull out his dick and take her on the hard floor right there.

He wondered, too, what she’d say if she knew how he really liked his sex. The things he really wanted from her. The kind of demands he wanted to make on her.

His jaw worked as he dug for his hard-won iron control, the control that seemed to be slipping with Jamie in front of him. He exhaled slowly.

“What happened to you, Jamie?”
Yeah, what happened to those pie-in-the-sky dreams that made you look at me and this place like dirt?
“God knows I hated your ass for the way you ran out of here, but you said you had a plan for your life, being a top investigative reporter. And it sure looked like you were well on your way to completing it. How could you pull a stunt like you did?”

She shrugged and stared at a point beyond his shoulder. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I got sandbagged.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” She sipped at her coffee, still staring at nothing. “Don’t believe everything you read in the papers, Zane. Or hear on television. I, of all people, know firsthand how the news can be manipulated.”

Zane narrowed his eyes, waiting for her to go on.

She sighed, a heavy sound, as if the weight she carried was too much to bear. “Someone gave me a tip about a scandal in the Miami-Dade Police department. I met with two sources who gave me what I thought was proof of their authenticity. All the evidence they pointed me toward seemed to prove out their story.”

“And?” he prompted.

“I broke the story, and included the mayor in it, smearing just about everyone I could. I thought for sure I’d win the Pulitzer for it. My boss was salivating.”

“So what was the problem? Did you trip over yourself running down the yellow brick road? What I read said you’d made the whole thing up.”

She made a sound of disgust. “That’s not my style, and people should have known it. If I was anything, it was gullible and stupid. I had visions of the
New York Times
begging me to come to work for them. All the networks calling me for interviews.”

Zane sipped at his coffee, waiting while she gathered her thoughts. He’d heard and read the stories. He wanted to hear her version from her own mouth. Get it settled, take what he came for, then tell her to leave.

“Well, it turned out the whole thing was an elaborate hoax, engineered by the mayor’s opponent in the upcoming election. Every other news outlet got the real story and I got fired. And sued, right along with my newspaper.” She ran her finger around the rim of her cup. “One day I’m the golden girl, the next no one will touch me with a ten-foot pole. End of story.”

Zane put down his mug. “Well, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to hang around Amen. Nothing here for you, and you know how people talk. Sell the property and get on with it.”

Yes. Please get the hell out of my life again.

Jamie’s face took on a hard look. “Do not presume to tell me what to do. I’ll stay here as long as I damn well please. Maybe until this place falls down around my ears.”

Zane moved closer to her so they were barely a breath apart. “Don’t do this. You’ll be happier if you’re gone.”

She raised her eyebrows? “I will? Or you, Zane Cameron? This is really all about getting even, isn’t it?”

“Why, Jamie.” He looked her up and down. “What would I have to get even about? I got over you and your lousy attitude a long time ago.”

“Yeah, right,” she snorted. “That’s why you hightailed it over here to ride my ass.”

Zane didn’t even think about what he did next, just knew he had to get his taste of her before running her out of town. He took the mug from her hands, put it on the counter, gripped her head in his palms, and took her mouth.

God, it was just as hot and sweet as he’d remembered. Lips like spun silk, a taste like sugar. A thrill of satisfaction ran through him that her nipples, pressed against the cotton of his uniform shirt, were stiff and hard. And, that without thinking, her mouth opened and accepted his tongue. He pressed it against the roof of her mouth, devouring the soft wetness, and skimmed the insides of her cheeks and her lips. His hands held her head like a vise, as if he’d never let her go. If his cock was hard before, it was painful now, pushing into the softness of her belly.

She still smelled of strawberries, and the scent inflamed him. He wanted to fuse himself to her, suckle her nipples until they swelled to twice their size. Slide his fingers into that hot, tight pussy of hers and bring her to a breathless orgasm like he used to give her. Put his mouth on her cunt and drink of her sweet, sweet juices. Oh, yeah, he’d get his.

God, I’m losing my mind.

He finally lifted his mouth just a fraction. “In two seconds flat I could have you stripped naked and flat on your back, my cock buried deep inside you. And you’d love it. You know that, don’t you?”

With sudden strength, she jerked her head away and pushed at him. Hard.

Zane blinked to focus and never saw her hand coming as she delivered a stinging slap. He grabbed her wrist as she drew back for another blow. “Do that again, and I’ll turn you over my knee.”

Her eyes smoldered. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Even way back then you wanted to push the envelope with sex. I’ll bet you’ve learned a lot of new tricks since then.”

He yanked her up against his body, holding her in an iron grip. “I don’t remember you running away screaming.”

“I might shoot you this time, lawman. Just because you piss me off.”

They stared at each other for a long moment before he let her go.

She backed away, rubbing her wrists, her eyes stabbing at him like daggers. “Get the hell out of my house. And stay away. It’ll take a lot more than your macho swagger to run me off.”

“We aren’t done, Jamie. Not by a long shot. Keep that in mind.”

He was at the door when she called his name, and he turned. “What?”

“Where’s my father’s old truck?”

“You mean the one he ran off the road in? It’s totaled.” He frowned. “Why? You sure can’t do anything with that hunk of junk.”

“I’d like to get it. I can at least sell the undamaged parts for scrap.”

Zane raised an eyebrow. “Money that hard to come by now?”

“Yes. Not that it’s any of your damn business. So where’s it at?”

“Duke Warren’s got it at the junkyard. That is, if he hasn’t crushed it yet. You could maybe make some kind of deal with him.”

“Fine. Oh, and Sheriff?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks so much for stopping by. But don’t bother doing it again. You aren’t welcome.”

The sarcasm in her voice was sharp enough to draw blood.

“Is that a fact? Listen to what I’m saying. There’s no place for you in Amen. You need to take care of business and get out of here.” His gaze raked every inch of her body. “But before that happens we’re going to handle
our
unfinished business. Then I can get you out of my life for good.”

He slammed the door to the Expedition and ground the engine, tearing out of the driveway. He sped down the highway until he reached a hidden turnoff where he could pull in, away from passing traffic. Turning off the ignition, he leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and twelve years disappeared as if they’d never happened.

****

Zane spread the quilt he’d carried from the truck onto the space beneath the oak trees. Thirty feet away the waters of Fallen Creek shushed over pebbles, moonlight reflecting off its surface and peeping through the trees. He stretched out full length and reached a hand up to Jamie, feeling the trembling in her fingers.

“It will be all right,” he assured her, although his own insides were quaking.

All the heavy petting they’d done up until now, touching each other, crossing new boundaries, had them in such a fever pitch of excitement that waiting for tonight had almost been a hardship.

Shyly, Jamie lowered herself to her knees beside him, then folded her body against his, her head on his shoulder. Her soft breasts pressed against him, and he could feel her nipples poking against the thin fabric of her sundress.

No bra!

His cocked jumped behind the denim fly of his jeans.

Her skin was so soft as he caressed her arm, and her scent—ripe strawberries—filled his nostrils. He couldn’t wait to taste her. Everywhere.

Shifting his body, he tilted her chin up so he could see her eyes. “Are you sure, Jamie? I don’t want you to—”