Scandalous Mistress. Leslie Kelly

without remembering McBride’s artistic talents.

      Mrs. Franklin shot him a warning glare, her deep frown lines going from each side of her pursed mouth down to her jaw. “I think I’m better acquainted with the law around here than you. I want the perpetrator found and arrested.”

      His anger rising, he snapped, “Should we put up the stocks and have the villain displayed in the town square, too?”

      The older woman jerked her head up, apparently shocked at being talked back to. Mike had always tried to remember to respect his elders—and his employers—but this was beyond ridiculous.

      “You do realize you are still on probation here, Chief.”

      “I couldn’t possibly forget it,” he admitted. The couple of months remaining in his agreed-upon trial period had never seemed as long as they did right now.

      “I am telling you, do your job and arrest this purveyor of smut.”

      He rose from his seat, leaning over his desk, his hands flat on top of it. “And I’m telling you, there’s nothing illegal about this book.” His eyes narrowing and his jaw clenching, he added, “There’s not a damn thing you, or I, or anyone can do about it, except to remind people to please be careful not to drop their private reading materials on the ground.”

      That was exactly what he intended to do. Tonight, in fact. Because if Lindsey was, indeed, the owner of this manual, he needed to tell her that she’d lost it, and who had found it. He certainly wasn’t going to let her walk in blind to that school Monday morning and encounter a firestorm of gossip. Knowing Mrs. Franklin, there would definitely be lots of that. Hell, she’d probably demand that the principal call an assembly so they could grill every kid to find the “pervert.”

      Shaking with indignation, the woman who was, technically, one of his bosses, stood up and yanked her purse against her chest. “We’ll see about this.”

      “Careful of the step as you leave,” he reminded her, crossing his arms over his chest, not budging an inch.

      She opened her mouth then snapped it closed. But the thrust-out jaw and narrowed eyes said she wasn’t going to let this drop.

      That could be a problem, not just for him, but also for Lindsey. And for her friend Callie Parker, who sure didn’t need to add a heaping of hometown scandal to what sounded like an already pretty full plate. Callie had recommended Lindsey to the school administration. If the busybodies found out Lindsey had been the one to drop what they considered “filth” close to the school grounds, they’d crucify her—and Callie, too.

      So it was time he found out if his theory was true, that it was indeed Lindsey who had lost the book. It was also past time to uncover what else she’d been hiding. Because if she was just a schoolteacher, then he was just a kid playing cops-and-robbers. Maybe whatever secret she was keeping might explain why she was so reluctant to pursue any kind of relationship with him. Considering how intense their chemistry was, something big had to be holding her back.

      He wanted to find out what that something was. Because he hadn’t been kidding when he’d told her yesterday that he was interested in a lot more than just sex. He was falling for her, fast and hard, and he wanted Lindsey in his life any way he could get her.

      Even though it was late, he couldn’t let the matter wait until morning. So, grabbing the “evidence” and dropping it into his jacket pocket, he left the station and headed for Lindsey Smith’s cottage.

      Frankly, he didn’t know what he was hoping she’d say. That the book was not hers, and he’d be left trying to find its true owner?

      Or that she’d say it was...and he’d be left wondering just how many of those erotic positions Lindsey might like to try.

      With him.

      * * *

      WHEN LINDSEY HEARD the sharp knock on her front door, she dropped the novel she’d been reading and shot straight up in her bed. Glancing quickly at the clock and seeing it was nearly 10:00 p.m., she leaped up and grabbed her robe.

      The second thing she grabbed was her cell phone. No, she didn’t get great reception, but it was closer than the house phone in the kitchen.

      It was kind of ridiculous that she was more jittery living here on this nice, homey little island than she’d ever been in Chicago. Perhaps it was because she just wasn’t cut out to be a loner. Her new home stood on a jut of land that was at least a mile from the closest neighbor. Other than the skree of insects and the lapping of the waves on the nearby shore, she lived in near silence.

      It grated on her nerves. She was used to traffic and shouting, to carryout, taxis, commuter trains, fast food and crowds. Not this. Not absolute quiet that, when interrupted by a knock on the door at night, seemed ominous and dangerous.

      But what if it’s your friendly island cop paying a call?

      On one hand, that could be nice. She trusted Mike. Though she had no idea why he’d show up at her door at this time of night, she wasn’t the least bit frightened of that possibility.

      On the other hand, if it were Mike’s obnoxious coworker, Officer Ollie, she should definitely worry.

      She’d seen the man in a few places this past week, and each time she’d gone out of her way to avoid coming face-to-face with him. Still, she’d caught his eyes on her—once in the grocery store, once in the diner. He’d tried smiling, and, when she didn’t respond, had ended up narrow-eyed and angry.

      Angry enough to come down here and harass me?

      God, she hoped not. She had packed away her big penis-weapon in a box which was now buried in the back of her closet, so she couldn’t beat him up with that.

      Another knock. Still clutching the phone, she tightly tied the sash of her robe and crossed through the bedroom and the living room to the front door.

      “Who is it?” she asked, not so much as lifting a hand to undo the dead bolt.

      “Lindsey, it’s Mike. I need to talk to you.”

      Relief flooding through her, she dropped the phone onto the foyer table, unlocked the door and pulled it open. “You scared me.”

      He offered her a half smile. “This isn’t Chicago. There hasn’t been a home invasion on Wild Boar for as long as anybody can remember.”

      “I know. It’s just, the quietness is eerie. I certainly wasn’t expecting somebody to knock on my door. Why did you?”

      “Can I come in and explain?”

      Stepping back, she gestured toward the living room. As he entered, the room seemed to shrink around him, so big was his presence.

      “I see you still haven’t found a permanent place for your books,” he said, nodding toward the back corner of the room, where the cartons were piled neatly against the wall.

      “I won’t be here that long. I figured I could just dig out the ones I want, as I want them.”

      He crossed his arms, leaning against the back of a tall armchair. “What about your other...package. Have you pulled out anything you wanted from that?”

      The air seemed to have been sucked out of her lungs. Her mouth went dry, and she couldn’t make it work to form words.

      Had he really come here to talk about the sexy things that had fallen out of that box the last time they’d been together in this room? And if so, to what end?

      “No, I packed it up and buried it in the bottom of my closet. It was delivered here by mistake,” she admitted. “Though I was just thinking that if Officer Ollie was at my door, I might wish I had my giant rubber club handy.”

      He grinned. “I don’t imagine he’d have even recognized it. Bullies are dickless, as a rule.”

      Not inside more than ninety seconds and they were already talking about sex organs. Her famous control over every personal