Baby at his Door. Katherine Garbera

going to be a problem?”

      Her face was transparent and her eyes, which were a deep sapphire this morning, wouldn’t meet his. She wore a stylish sundress with thin straps and a short skirt. She had knockout legs. He longed to feel them wrapped around his hips.

      Dammit, get your mind back to business. The wound on her forehead had disappeared. She had a good hand with makeup, he thought.

      “No. It’s just that well…the car isn’t registered in my name.” She was lying to him. And she wasn’t very good at it.

      “You know we can find out who you are from the vehicle identification number, right?”

      “Really?”

      He nodded.

      She moved closer to him. Her expensive perfume surrounded him, and he could think of nothing but searching her body to find out where she’d dabbed it. “Will you take my word for it that I haven’t done anything illegal and the car really is mine?”

      She had innocent eyes; he didn’t think she’d done anything illegal. There was something about the eyes of a criminal that you never forgot. “Maybe.”

      “Maybe? What would it take to make that a yes?” she asked, moving a breath closer and running her finger along his jaw.

      “More than a lick,” he said stepping away. Damn, he liked flirting with a sassy woman. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it until this very moment. If he stayed in the room with her alone for a few more seconds he was going to forget his good sense and kiss her. Take those perfectly painted lips beneath his own and not come up for air until she forgot about the stories she was trying to tell him.

      “Well that’s all I’ve got to offer right now,” she said.

      “Let’s go have some breakfast and you can meet my dad. You can tell me the details of why you’re using an assumed name on the way into town.”

      He followed her down the hall to the silence of the kitchen, watching her hips sway with each step and feeling arousal tingle along his spine and groin. He wanted her, and she had to know. He’d always been transparent when he was in lust.

      He was once again in the crossfire that had cut him down before. A lying woman he wanted more than his next breath or his job. He’d chosen poorly the first time. He wouldn’t again.

      Three

      Staying in the small town of Placid Springs, Florida, was going to be an experience. To call it a town was being generous. The one main street possessed a flashing caution signal, and there wasn’t a department store to be found.

      She’d come into the office with Evan because she couldn’t stand being alone with her thoughts. The sheriff’s office was besieged by well-wishers and curiosity seekers for a good part of the afternoon while she was there. Every person in the small town knew each other. Apparently she was the first person to hit a light pole while avoiding a cow.

      “Most people just stop, ma’am. The cows rarely ram ya’,” one old-timer told her.

      She was between a rock and a hard place. Evan embodied all of the qualities she’d found lacking in the men she’d dated. And after meeting the kind older gentleman that was Evan’s father, she doubted Evan would understand how demanding a father could be.

      The mechanic had called; it was going to take two weeks for the parts needed to repair her car to come in. She wished Aunt Gracie was home so she could wire her some money. No, she didn’t, she wanted to do this on her own.

      Say it again, she thought, maybe you’ll begin to believe it.

      “We still can’t find your name in our computers.”

      Lydia flinched and stared up into the sheriff’s frozen gray eyes. She’d tried to think of how to get around having her father find out where she was while still assuaging the local law-enforcement needs. “I…”

      “Yes?” he drawled.

      She buried her face in her hands. Damn, she wasn’t a good liar, never had been.

      The warm hand on her shoulder told her Evan had moved. Tingles spread down from her shoulder, for a moment his touch made her feel safe and secure. Tell me your secrets.

      She’d made a second chance for herself, and only she could determine if it would be a life made of lies or truth. Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him. The sexy small-town sheriff. “My name’s not going to be in your computer.”

      His eyes narrowed, but his tone was calm. “Why not?”

      “Because I haven’t given you my real one.”

      “Why not?”

      “I’m hiding and I’m not ready to be found yet.”

      “From whom?”

      “I’d rather not say right now.”

      “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist.”

      “Oh.”

      “Yes, oh.”

      Lydia didn’t want to lie. Instead she batted her eyelashes and brushed her tongue across her bottom lip. His eyes tracked the movement like a spy satellite tracking fleet movements. She leaned forward and shrugged her shoulders until the V of her blouse dipped lower.

      “Honey…”

      “Yes,” she said, trying to sound sultry.

      “Even if I take you up on your invitation, I’m still going to want answers.”

      If he took her up on her invitation, she’d go down fast. One fiancé hadn’t given her enough experience to handle this man and his earthy sensuality.

      “I wasn’t issuing an invitation per se.”

      “What were you doing?”

      “Distracting you.”

      “It almost worked.”

      “What would it take to be successful?”

      He leaned down until his breath brushed her face and she could see the flecks of sapphire in his gray eyes. She wanted to scoot away from him. Every survival instinct she had screamed for her to retreat, but this was the new Lydia and she wasn’t backing up.

      “More than lust, less than love.”

      His words cut through her. All men wanted less than love. “I’m not any good at lust.”

      “Hell, honey, you were doing just fine.”

      She shrugged.

      “Ready to tell me more?”

      “Not now. Can I have a reprieve?”

      He nodded. “Until tonight.”

      “Agreed, tonight. Where will I be working?”

      “Come on. I’ll show you.”

      She followed him down the hall, noticing the fit of his uniform pants was close to illegal. He had a nice butt. She wondered if his flesh would be rock-hard, like the muscles of his naked chest had been last night. Her fingers tingled with the need to caress him again. Though this time with intent and purpose.

      “Your desk will be here,” he gestured to a battered model covered in manila folders and sloppily stacked papers.

      The real world was a messy one, she realized. “I don’t think I’ll be here long enough to get through all of this paperwork.”

      “It looks worse than it is.”

      “That’s what you said about the dogs.”

      He gave her a sympathetic look. Silence grew between them. She should stop looking at his mouth and wondering how well he kissed—spectacularly, if the darkly arousing secrets in his eyes were any indication.