The Lawman's Honor. Линда Гуднайт

he’d collapsed on the couch for a couple of hours but upon awakening the familiar drive to be up and moving had taken over.

      All right, Monroe, admit it. He was curious about Cassie Blackwell, curious to know if she’d gotten the flowers, and since he was going to be living in this town, at least for a while, he wanted to make nice with the locals.

      Might as well open the glass door and go inside. He’d entered worse, scarier and far more dangerous places. A chorus of female laughter rang out. With a wry shake of his head, Heath thought, Maybe.

      He pulled open the door and stepped inside. The first thing he noticed was the sudden reduction in conversation. The second thing was the smell. Really good shampoo. The kind that compelled a man to bury his nose in a woman’s hair.

      His well-trained eyes scoped out the place in seconds. Three workstations but only two were manned. Or womaned, as it were. Zebra-striped chairs, a mish-mash of hair fixing doodads and a gaggle of gawking females. And that smell. That overriding, delicious scent of all things female.

      He cleared his throat. “You got the flowers.”

      Cassie Blackwell stood at one of the workstations. She’d turned toward the door when it had opened and now stood as if paralyzed, the mirror behind her reflecting the straight, choppy cut of her black, black hair.

      Gorgeous. Last night, he’d thought she was pretty but his head had been too messed up to know anything for certain. Today, there was no doubt. His drippy-wet, shivering heroine from last night was a knockout.

      “Why aren’t you in the hospital?” she asked and he took note of the biggest green eyes he’d ever seen. Green, like his. Cool.

      “They don’t keep slackers.”

      Every woman in the room clucked and then a cacophony started that made his head ache worse.

      “You’re hurt.”

      “Look at his eye. Quite a shiner.”

      “Are you the new police officer?”

      He replied to the last. “Yes, ma’am. Heath Monroe.”

      For some reason, this brought another round of clucking accompanied by sly looks at Cassie.

      He felt a little weird being the object of all this attention. Weird but amused. In his particular role as an agent, he’d been required to keep a low profile. He’d have to get used to being out in the open.

      “Nice to meet you, ladies,” he said, forcing a smile that made his bruised eye hurt.

      His comment was met with a round of introductions which he figured was a good thing. Getting to know the people in town would be as important to this job as it had been in covert operations.

      But even as he carried on polite conversations with the women, cataloguing which one’s husband ran the bait shop and which was a retired schoolteacher, and who was at the scene last night, it was Cassie his gaze kept coming back to. Medium height, she looked taller in bright red high heels that matched her equally red lipstick. If he put his arms around her, she’d hit him about chin-high in sock feet. The wayward thought startled him. He didn’t know this woman, other than she’d been kind enough to help an injured stranger. Why was he stirred by the thought of Cassie, the hairdresser, in cozy little socks?

      “Thank you for the flowers,” she said in that same silky voice that had invaded his concussed dreams. “They’re beautiful, but you really didn’t need to go to all that trouble.”

      “If you hadn’t come along...” He let the thought ride. No use going there. They both knew. “Glad you like them.”

      Before he could make the expected quick exit, the door behind him opened. He couldn’t help himself. Years of watching his back had him turning to the side as yet another female entered the building. This one was pretty in the way of women who spend a lot of time and money on their looks. Dressed to kill in a pencil-slim skirt and stiletto heels, she was a well-groomed blonde, blue-eyed and thinner than he liked his women. Not that he’d focused much on women in the past decade. He liked the female gender—a lot—but in his line of work, personal relationships had taken a backseat. About the time things started to progress, he’d be shipped off to some dark corner of the earth. Which was just as well. He had a job to do and a vow to keep.

      Automatically, he touched his pocket and felt for the badge resting against his thigh, a reminder of his life’s mission and why he’d never settled down.

      “Louise, I broke a nail,” the newcomer announced in a voice that said a broken fingernail was a state of emergency. She held up an index finger and pouted. “Can you fix it for me right quick? Pretty please?”

      The wild-haired Louise nodded. The manicurist reminded him of those wide-eyed dolls whose heads were bigger than their bodies. “Sure thing, Michelle. Give me a couple of minutes to finish Ruby Fay.”

      “I have an appointment at the bank in a few—” The woman’s voice trailed off when she spotted Heath. “Oh, my gracious, I am so sorry for interruptin’.” She stuck out the hand with the broken nail. “I’m Michelle Jessup. You must be our new police officer.”

      Might as well get used to it. In a small town news carried far and fast.

      “This is Heath Monroe, Michelle,” Cassie said, taking up the tools of her trade again. “And you guessed right. He’s our new assistant chief.”

      “My goodness gracious, Heath, honey, you are all beat up. Oh, this is terrible. Not a good welcome to our little burg at all.” She pressed long-nailed fingers to her chest in an affected pose. Most of the people Heath had encountered so far in Whisper Falls spoke with a stronger-than-Texas accent but this woman’s suddenly thickened to Southern syrup. “I heard about that scary accident you had. What a blessing our little Cassie came along in the nick of time.”

      Heath shot an amused look at “our little Cassie,” who lifted one eyebrow but didn’t speak. Heath didn’t like to judge a person on first impressions, but Michelle was making a strong one.

      “Very lucky. I could have been stuck down there for days before anyone found me.”

      “Well, isn’t she just heroic?” Michelle gushed, moving into Heath’s space with a flirty smile. “Your poor eye. It must hurt like crazy.” She was close enough that he could smell her perfume, an exotic blend of flowers and spice. “My daddy owns Jessup’s Pharmacy right down the street. If you need anything at all, you tell Daddy I sent you, and he’ll fix you right up.”

      “I appreciate the offer. Thanks.” He eased a step back.

      “You are so welcome,” Michelle said brightly, letting the last word trail off in a long, slow drawl. “Glad to help in any way I can. We take care of our people around here.”

      “We sure do,” Louise muttered. “Especially our handsome new law-enforcement personnel.”

      A snicker ran around the edges of the room, but if Michelle noticed, she didn’t let on. Heath practiced his poker face.

      “I heard about your SUV being all smashed up. I am so sorry. If it can’t be fixed and you have to have a new one, you come right on over to the bank and see me. As the chief loan officer in Whisper Falls, I will take good care of you.”

      A man would have to be blind, deaf and brain-dead not to get the message, though the woman couldn’t know Heath was immune. He’d been propositioned by some of the best, usually when he was about to haul them to jail.

      “Good to know. Appreciate it. Everyone here has been very helpful.”

      “Oh, Heath, you are so welcome.” She tilted her head and hunched one shoulder in a pretty pose, flashing him a dazzling smile.

      “Michelle, I’m ready for you.” Louise patted the tabletop and motioned toward the chair. “Come on over. You don’t want to be late for that appointment.”

      The flirtatious woman turned her