The Lawman's Nanny Op. Carla Cassidy

eye and her bedroom window open tonight to make sure she’d hear anyone who tried to break into the garage again. On second thought, she’d keep her windows closed and locked. Anything that was destroyed in the day care could be replaced, but she couldn’t be.

      The kitchen smelled faintly of fresh oranges and the chicken salad she’d made early that morning for the children’s lunch. She tossed her keys on the table and then walked from the kitchen through the living room and into her bedroom.

      What she wanted more than anything was a quick shower, her favorite robe and maybe a quart of chocolate ice cream for dinner. She positively didn’t want to think about break-ins or vicious flyers—or Caleb Grayson.

      Minutes later as she stood beneath the warm spray of water she found thoughts of Caleb creeping into her mind. She wondered who he was dating at the moment.

      He’d promised to love her forever, had promised she was the only one he wanted in his life, and then she’d gone out of town for her grandfather’s funeral and the rumors had begun, rumors of his betrayal.

      She frowned and shut off the faucets, then reached for the fluffy towel that awaited her. Ancient pain, she thought. She wasn’t that naive young woman anymore, and she’d learned her lesson well where Caleb was concerned.

      Once she was dry she pulled on her short, green silk nightgown and a matching robe. It was not quite seven when she settled on the sofa in front of the television with a tray holding a plate of chicken salad and a tall glass of iced tea.

      She’d just finished eating and carried the tray back into the kitchen when the doorbell rang. She went to the front door and peered out, surprised to see Caleb standing on the porch.

      Maybe he had news, she thought as she cracked open the door. “Caleb,” she said in greeting.

      “Hi, Portia. Mind if I come in?”

      She unfastened the chain and opened the door to allow him entry. As he walked into her living room, he looked around with interest.

      She followed his gaze, wondering what he thought of her bright color scheme, the oversize throw pillows on the gleaming wooden floors and the bookshelf jammed full of books, knickknacks and pictures of kids who had passed through her care.

      “Nice,” he said as his gaze went first around the room, then slid down the length of her body, making her unsure what exactly he thought was nice. He sank down in the overstuffed chair next to the sofa.

      Self-consciously she belted her robe more tightly around her waist and sat on the edge of the sofa.

      “What’s up? Please tell me you’ve solved the crime and the vandal is behind bars.”

      “Not even close,” he replied with obvious reluctance. “I just wanted to let you know that I talked to Joe this afternoon. He insists he had nothing to do with the flyers or what happened here last night. I also talked to several high school kids to see if they knew anything about it, but nobody seemed to have any information.”

      “You didn’t have to make a trip here for that. You could have called me,” she replied. She wasn’t at all sure she liked him being here in her personal space. She didn’t want to smell his cologne when he was gone, didn’t want a mental picture of him sprawled in her chair as if he belonged here.

      “You were upset when I left here earlier. I wanted to stop by to make sure you were okay.” His gaze was too warm as it lingered on her, on her throat, on her lips.

      “You know me, Caleb, I always bounce back from things.”

      One of his dark eyebrows lifted slightly. “That’s just the thing, Portia, I don’t know you. We’ve been sharing this small town for a long time and we never talk.”

      She shrugged. “We say hello, we talk about the weather. There’s never been a reason for us to have a real conversation before now.”

      “We definitely need to have more than a passing conversation now. Joe told me that you were dating Eric Willowby before you dated him.”

      “Eric and I dated for a little while,” she agreed. “But that was months ago. Surely you can’t imagine that he’d have anything to do with this.” She rose from the sofa, unwilling to share anything else personal with him. “I appreciate you coming by to check on me, but as you can see, I’m fine.” She looked at the door, giving him the nonverbal message that she was finished with the conversation.

      Caleb rose slowly from the chair, as if reluctant to leave. She walked with him to the front door and he turned back to face her.

      “Are you sure you’re okay? You still look upset,” he said.

      She was upset, but it had less to do with the break-in and more about how his presence affected her. “I’m fine,” she replied, surprised to hear a slight tremor in her voice.

      He reached up and touched a strand of her hair. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured.

      For a moment they simply looked at each other and Portia felt the past rising up between them. A mix of emotions cascaded through her. A snapping electricity combined with a heady rush of desire and mingled with a bittersweet pain.

      His eyes darkened and softened and as he stepped closer to her she knew with a woman’s instinct that he intended to kiss her.

      Her brain told her to step back, to stop it from happening, but her feet remained frozen in place and as he leaned down to taste her lips, she raised her head to receive the kiss.

      Hot and half-wild, that’s how she remembered his kisses, and this one was no different. His lips were soft and yet commanding, but as he raised his arms to embrace her, she broke the kiss and took a step back from him, angry that he would try to kiss her, even angrier that she’d let him.

      “That was stupid,” she exclaimed.

      He grinned, the boyish smile she’d once loved to see. “Maybe,” he agreed. “But sometimes stupid tastes good. Good night, Portia.”

      As he stepped out on the porch she slammed her door and locked it behind him, angry that he could still make her want him after all these years.

      She was right. It had been stupid to kiss her, but she’d looked so damned kissable in that sexy green robe that allowed the tops of her creamy breasts to peek out and displayed her gorgeous legs.

      He got into his car and gripped the steering wheel with both hands to allow the wave of desire that gripped him to slowly ebb away.

      When he felt more in control, he started his car and pulled out of her driveway. He’d spent much of his day not only trying to find out who had broken into her day care, but also asking questions about Portia, trying to get a feel for the woman she’d become.

      Loving. Generous and kind: those were words that had been used again and again to describe her. So why hadn’t she married and started a family of her own?

      Yes, it had been foolish to kiss her, but he’d wanted to taste her mouth, see if she still had the capacity to stir him. The answer was a definitive yes.

      But years ago he hadn’t been enough for her. She hadn’t trusted him, hadn’t trusted in his love, and there was nothing to indicate that another round with Portia would have different results.

      He wouldn’t put his heart on the line with her again, but he definitely wouldn’t mind laying her down in a bed of fresh, scented sheets and making love to her until they were both gasping and sated.

      She’d allowed him the kiss, but he had a feeling there was no way she’d be agreeable to a night of wild, mindless sex.

      She’d thought he’d cheated on her when she’d been out of town and then again when she’d left for college. She’d allowed rumors and innuendoes to crack them apart. It hadn’t mattered that he’d proclaimed his innocence loud and long; ultimately she hadn’t believed him.

      He’d never quite been able to forgive her for that, and that