Особое чувство собственного ирландства. Пат Инголдзби

      “Well, you did live here for three years,” he reasoned.

      “Yes, but compared to eleven that’s not very many,” she replied.

      The two of them left the porch and walked down the long wide steps that would take them off the cliff side and onto the flat, parking area.

      Quito made the trip going down much more easily and when they reached the vehicles she was relieved to see that his breathing seemed normal.

      “It’s obvious you’re not staying here,” Quito said as they walked to her car first. “Did you find a place in town?”

      She nodded. “The Apache Junction Hotel. But who knows, I might clean up part of this place and stay for a few days.” She glanced wistfully around her. “It would be nice to vacation in the cooler, dryer air for a while. When I left Houston, the city was under a hurricane watch.” And not just from the weather, either, she thought, grimly.

      She’d heard from the little birds she kept on lookout that Niles had been hunting everywhere for her. Thankfully he hadn’t learned that she’d gone to Afghanistan and her time there had been relatively peaceful. She only wished she could have a few days here in San Juan county before he caught on to her trail.

      “There’s nothing stopping you from staying is there?” he asked.

      She swallowed hard as he reached down and opened the car door for her. “No. Not really,” she lied. “I do have another trip planned soon to South America, some of the mountain villages there. This time I’m hoping to get a driver and a truck full of food and medicine through the bandits that control the areas. We tried once before and they stopped us with machine guns and forced us to hand the goods over to them.”

      “Hell fire, Clementine, you could be killed going off on such ventures,” he cursed.

      She slid behind the steering wheel, then lifted a steady gaze to his.

      “I could get killed in Houston, too.”

      He frowned and sensing he was going to start asking her questions that she didn’t want to answer, she started the engine.

      Quito shut the door to the sleek black, sports car and stepped back. “Will I see you again before you leave?”

      It wouldn’t be wise. She would eventually pay for these few minutes she’d spent with him this morning. The short time was already burned into her memory and once she returned to Houston, she would relive them over and over like a spinster reliving her first and only kiss.

      “I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. “Do you want to?”

      A devilish smile suddenly crooked his mouth and he bent his head through the open window and kissed her.

      The intimate contact had been the last thing she expected. And for a moment she was stunned motionless as his lips made a gentle foray over hers and then slowly, her mouth opened and her hand came up to cup the side of his face.

      How could it be that the taste of him, the feel of his lips were so sweetly the same? she wondered. And how could it be that she still wanted him so badly?

      By the time he pulled his head back slightly from hers, she could feel her pulse beating wildly in her temples, like a drum warning her to stop, stop, stop.

      “What do you think?” he asked.

      She thought he was moving way too fast. She even thought he might be trying to make of fool of her, to hurt her for walking away all those years ago. But Quito had never been a spiteful person and there didn’t seem to be any hidden motives in his eyes, only a bit of lust.

      “All right,” she said with a sheepish smile. “I’ll take you out for dinner tomorrow night. Can you make it?”

      Smiling, he stepped back from the car. “You can call me at the office,” he told her. “I’m usually there until six.”

      She nodded then waved goodbye and raised the window. Thankfully the glass was tinted darkly and hid the worried expression on her face as she drove away.

      The next morning Quito was sitting at his desk signing off on a request for two arrest warrants when his secretary, Juliet, buzzed the intercom. “Sir, Dr. Hastings is on line two. Can you speak with her?”

      Quito frowned. The under sheriff’s wife was a medical doctor and had a thriving practice in a small clinic just a few blocks away from the department. Although she’d been a longtime friend, he couldn’t imagine why she would want to speak to him this morning. Unless she wanted to talk to him about Jess.

      “Yes, I’ll get it, Juliet.” He reached for the phone. “Good morning, Victoria. What gives me the pleasure of hearing your voice this morning?”

      “Hi, Quito. I know you’re busy, but I’m keeping a promise. Your doctor in Farmington called and asked if I would give you a checkup. He’s leaving town and won’t be back for a couple of weeks. Apparently your checkup was due today, is that right?”

      “Hell, I don’t know. Just a minute.” He flipped open an appointment book. “Yeah. Here it is. It’s this afternoon. Juliet would have probably reminded me, but I’d forgotten.”

      Victoria chuckled. “That’s what we have secretaries for, Quito.” She paused, then said, “Let’s see, it looks like this morning I’ve got a space between patients. Can you be over here in fifteen minutes?”

      Quito straightened up in his chair. “You really weren’t kidding?”

      “Of course I wasn’t kidding. Did you think this was just a ploy to get you over here so I could see your chest?” she teased.

      “That’s just it. Jess might not like you looking at me in such a—personal way.”

      Victoria laughed again. “I’ve got a news flash for you, Quito. Jess knows that I look at men’s bodies every day. He’s used to it. Now quit making excuses and get over here.”

      “Okay. Okay. I’ll be there. But I don’t like it.”

      “You don’t have to like it,” she cheerily replied, then promised, “I’ll try to end your suffering as quickly as I can.”

      Quito assured her that she’d see him in a few minutes, then hung up the phone.

      By car, the doctor’s office was less than two minutes away. When he entered the clinic there were several patients seated in the outer waiting room. He walked over to the receptionist, expecting her to tell him to have a seat and wait like the rest, but instead she jerked her thumb toward the back where the examination rooms were located.

      “Go on back to Room 2, Sheriff. She’s waiting on you.”

      He found Victoria in the square, sterile looking room. The tall brunette was dressed in a white lab coat and standing at a small counter scribbling something on a chart. When she looked up, she smiled at him.

      “I wish all my patients were this prompt,” she said and gestured toward the examining table. “Have a seat, Quito, get comfortable and remove your shirt. This isn’t going to hurt.”

      He unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders as she adjusted the earpieces of her stethoscope.

      “Maybe not,” he said. “But it’s silly. Dr. Holloway knows I’m on the mend. What is there to look at anyway?”

      “Be quiet and let me listen,” she ordered as she wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm.

      Victoria Hastings was a young, beautiful woman and as she thumped and probed and ordered him to breathe deeply, he could only wonder why it was that she, nor any other woman, ever affected him the way Clementine did. Why did he only feel that pull of attraction when he thought about or looked upon the blond Texas beauty?

      Eventually Victoria put away her stethoscope and handed him his shirt. “Okay, Sheriff Perez, you’re finished. I pronounce you fit.”