The Lawman of Silver Creek:. Lori Connelly

sideways. Thick, dark lashes masked her eyes, but Matt felt her study him. Her hands went to the buttons on her cloak then dropped leaving the dripping garment still fastened.

      “Would you help me please?”

      The demure tone and posture was so completely out of character his gut tightened. “No.”

      “Matthew.” Her voice soft as a caress drew out his full name. “My fingers are so cold, I can’t work the buttons.”

      “They’ll warm.”

      “Please.” She shivered to great effect.

      Matt didn’t believe her wide-eyed innocent expression for a second, but again he couldn’t resist her. He stomped across the room. His boots hit the floor planks with satisfying thuds. As soon as the sheriff reached her, he went to work.

      Claire leaned forward, a subtle shift. Soft curves brushed his palm. Matt sucked in a deep breath. He hurried, focused on completing the task. As soon as one button came undone, he moved to the next.

      Her hands came up, resting on his forearms. The icy contact sent shock waves through him. He swallowed hard. His fingers fumbled. A full moment passed before Matt could manage another button’s release.

      Only three to go. Her fingertips brushed up then down over his flesh. Her breath a soft sigh on his skin, sweat broke out on his forehead.

      “Claire.”

      “Yes?” Her sugar sweet tone matched her expression.

      “Stop it.”

      “Stop what?”

      He cleared his throat. “It’s not appropriate.”

      “What’s not?” Another button popped open. “You mean this?” Her touch slid up his biceps.

      “Yes.” Matt grabbed her wrists, pushing them down and away.

      “I’m only warming my hands.”

      His teeth gritted together, patience thinning. “Try putting them in your pockets.”

      “I’d rather put them in yours.” Her voice a purr, she made a bold move when he released his hold.

      “Claire,” he growled, but far from feeling intimidated, her smile broadened while her fingers wiggled into the pockets of his pants. “You’re playing with fire.”

      “I know,” she breathed against the tanned skin at the base of his throat as he unfastened her last button. The serviceable brown wool cloak fell unheeded to the floor.

      His hands clasped her shoulders and gently set her apart from him. “Stay by the fire. I’ll ride over and tell your folks you’re here-”

      “Go out in this weather? No, I won’t hear of it.”

      “I’ll be fine.”

      “Are you saying a man can brave a downpour unscathed but a poor little woman must be sheltered from rain, lest she melt?”

      Her challenge, softly and sweetly delivered, yet threaded with steel was pure Claire. Hearing a normal response from her eased some of his tension. “Of course not, I’m just trying to be helpful.”

      “Oh … ” Her tone gentled. “Then I’d suggest warming me.”

      Matt stepped back. “Just stay by the fire. I’ll be-”

      “Please don’t go, stay with me.” Claire moved toward him.

      He continued to retreat. “Your family will worry.”

      “They won’t,” she assured him with a soft smile. “They took the boys to town this morning, won’t be back for hours.”

      Distinct unease settled over the sheriff like a scratchy blanket. He stilled. “They left you alone?”

      “Yes.” She paused. A flicker of strong emotion showed in her eyes then they blanked. Her face became a polite mask, as Claire looked him up and down, slow. “They trust me Matt. I’m eighteen and capable.”

      Frustration raced through his blood. She acted as though nothing had changed. Her only nod to caution when she roamed the countryside was the six-shooter she had belted around her hips. She refused to understand that a weapon wouldn’t protect her in every scenario. He tried to hold back the words that would reignite their last argument, but couldn’t.

      “That gun won’t solve everything.”

      “Between that and my good sense, you need to trust that I’ll manage.”

      I trusted your judgment before and nearly lost you. Matt almost snapped at her. Instead, he chose another approach and managed to speak evenly. “And yet you were caught out in a storm that anyone could see has been brewing for hours.”

      Her gaze warmed. “Believe me. I took note of the weather.” She unstrapped her gun belt, slung it over a chair back. “But I thought it worth the risk to see you.”

      Heat shot through him even as Matt shook his head. “You’re trying to distract me from my point.”

      “Am I?”

      “You know what you’re doing.”

      “I wasn’t denying it.” Claire smiled. “I wanted to know if I was succeeding.”

      He leveled a look at her and answered in a flat tone, “yes you are.”

      “Good.”

      “No, it’s not. You’re smart and skilled but you’re a–”

      “Woman?” Her eyes seemed to darken.

      “Yes and–”

      “I’m glad you noticed.” Her words were silkily smooth as her fingers moved to the top button of her bodice.

      Stunned, his gaze followed the movement. Words died on his tongue. Lips still parted, his heart skipped a beat when she started unfastening her green as grass blouse. Although he’d tried hard to bury it, the desire for Claire burned as strongly as ever. He’d missed her so much.

      His hands curled into fists. They would be husband and wife now if only she would … He tensed, rigid as a board.

      “Stop.”

      Silent, her gaze steady on his, she ignored him, freeing one button after another until the material parted. His gaze moved down to the shadowy valley between her breasts, enticed. The sight tantalized him for some seconds before he took action. He closed the distance between them and grabbed her wrists.

      “I said stop.”

      “Why?” Claire pressed closer.

      Matt brought her arms down to her sides, releasing her only in order to reach up and pull her clothing back together. She rubbed her length against him, not discouraged in the slightest amount. His breath quickened. Her firm bounty slid against his hand. The touch of her bare flesh stole any rational thought he had left.

      Heat coursed through him. His fingers moved in the barest motion of a caress. Her sigh feathered his skin. Before he had time to think logically again, she stood on her toes, looped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to cover his mouth with hers.

      Her heart raced. Held in the circle of his arms, his body felt lean and strong, the embrace shot pleasure along her nerves. Her fingers played with raven black hair, neatly trimmed and combed in place as always, which made her want to ruffle it wild.

      Eagerly, her hands moved, stroking broad shoulders then down over arms of muscle gained by hard labor. Despite long hours upholding the law, Matt often helped his parents on their farm. He’d told her that the mindless chores helped him keep life in perspective. She found that selflessness as attractive as the physical form the work produced.

      Claire broke off the kiss. For a second she admired the man who’d stolen her heart. His handsome features were tense,