The Hunk Next Door. Debra & Regan Webb & Black

motioned for her to resume her seat, then he poured a cup of coffee for himself. “So how are the preparations going? From my vantage point it seems everything is on schedule.”

      “You should come down and take a look for yourself,” she suggested, a soft smile on her lips.

      He was filled once more with the urge to keep her. He deserved a reward for the nonsense he tolerated day in and day out. “Right now I’d only be in the way. I’ll come down after the crush of opening weekend is over.”

      “I’ll look forward to it.” She raised the china cup to her full lips and he had to look away. “The mayor came by the station yesterday.”

      “Oh?” he queried.

      “Yes. He wanted me to thank you for the sketches you donated to the silent auction.”

      “Of course he had you bring me the message.” Deke snorted derisively and adjusted his rolled-back sleeves, pleased to see her watching him so closely. “He knew I wouldn’t let him past the driveway after the way he spoke to you.”

      “Probably,” she allowed. “Thanks again for defending me.”

      “You’re a hero,” he said. “And you’re a dear friend,” he added quietly. He checked the time, wondering how far he could push her today.

      “To be fair, I might have shown a little restraint at the press conference.” She held up her hand, thumb and finger close together. “Maybe a smidge less gloating.”

      “That drug bust was important.” Deke leaned forward and laid a hand on her knee. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched her, but this time he wanted her to understand it was a romantic advance. “You’re a passionate woman.” Her eyes widened and he knew he had her on the hook. “Belclare is fortunate that you’re putting fear and doubt into the minds of criminals looking to abuse our resources.”

      He sat back once more, his hand trailing away slowly, giving her the impression that the next move was hers. He’d long ago learned how to manipulate and guide while maintaining the illusion of free will.

      She cleared her throat. “I was surprised to see you at the emergency council meeting.”

      “Should I have stayed home?”

      “No.” Her brow furrowed for a moment before her expression cleared. “Your defense meant the world to me. Frankly, after the mayor’s reprimand, I didn’t expect anyone to admit I existed. Your example reminds me I do have allies.”

      She’s made her decision. He could sense victory on the horizon. That moment, when she was his, would be so sweet. His body responded, anticipating the pleasure of using her before he publicly humiliated and destroyed her. In a few days’ time her world would come crashing down around her. He glanced at the clock on the mantel. “Then I’m even happier to have made the effort.”

      “You’ve been an asset to the entire community.” Whatever she intended to say next was cut short by the hum of her phone. “Excuse me, it’s the station.”

      “Of course,” he said with a nonchalance he didn’t feel. This might be the very call that signaled the beginning of his vengeance.

      He refilled his coffee and waited while she took the call in the foyer. He didn’t hear much beyond her greeting before his own phone rang. The timing couldn’t be worse, but he answered anyway. “Yes?”

      “This is a mistake,” the caller said with a quaking voice.

      “The only mistake is questioning me.”

      “I was told I had the authority—”

      “Enough.” Deke checked to be sure Chief Jensen remained distracted. “When you exhibit good judgment your authority will be restored. Are you reneging on our solution?”

      “N-n-no,” the voice on the other end of the line stuttered.

      “Good.” Deke ended the call and tucked his phone back into his pocket.

      “Deke?”

      “Yes, my dear,” he said, coming to his feet. “Don’t tell me duty calls.” She’d already taken her overcoat from the hall tree.

      “Something like that.” She hesitated, her bold, blue gaze roaming over his face. “Thank you for the coffee, Deke.”

      He stepped forward, taking her coat to help her into it. He let his hands brush the soft skin at her nape as he adjusted the collar, smiling to himself when she trembled.

      “Let’s not wait a week,” he said. “Come back for dinner tomorrow night.”

      She turned, and he took great pleasure watching her face as all of her responsibilities went to war against the desire he’d carefully stoked. “I would like that,” she replied.

      “But?”

      Her mouth tipped down, heavy with regret. “I have a security update tomorrow night.”

      “Stop by after. I’ll show you my latest seascape,” he said, hoping she’d laugh.

      She did. “I know you better than that.”

      “I would like you to,” he said, raising her hands to his lips.

      She took a small step back, her eyes wide.

      He cursed himself for pushing too hard, but he had a schedule to keep.

      “I’ll call you when my meeting is done tomorrow.” She paused at the door. “Then you can let me know if I should stop by or if it’s too late.”

      He knew she wasn’t referring to the time. Again, she impressed him by understanding the little nuances. If only more of the men he worked with were as astute.

      As he closed the door behind her he let himself enjoy another heady rush of anticipation. As angry as he was that she’d busted a drug shipment his clients relied on, she deserved respect. When she came by after her meeting everything would be different. She would be in pain over the blow he was about to inflict on her precious Belclare and he would be the only one able to soothe her. Tomorrow night, his plans would be in full swing and his reputation preserved.

      He watched from the sidelight window as she drove away. She made him angry, yes, but he liked her. He could send a message to others and still preserve the idealism that made her so unique. Silently he vowed that she wouldn’t live to know how badly she’d misjudged him.

      It was the only courtesy he could afford when it came to Chief Abby Jensen.

       Chapter Four

      Abby left Deke’s house, almost grateful to be called to a vandalism scene at the town limit. When he touched her, she couldn’t decide how to feel about it. Maybe because he didn’t touch her often enough? She was starting to wonder if anyone would ever touch her enough.

      She wasn’t sure about the answer, which only annoyed her. When they’d started these weekly coffee meetings it had been a way for her to keep tabs on the enigmatic and cloistered resident of Belclare. Now, though, the truth was far more embarrassing.

      For months, she’d been fighting her attraction to the man. He was in his mid-forties, but the gray at his temples and his artistic worldview only made him more distinguished in her eyes. The flawless manners, superb taste and maturity didn’t hurt, either.

      He treated her as if she was someone special and she liked the idea that at least one person saw beyond her badge and title to the woman underneath. She liked to think of herself as more than a uniform dedicated to maintaining law and order.

      “So you’ve been taking a weekly coffee break for the ego boost,” she muttered, drumming her fingertips on her steering wheel. Even in solitude that sounded pretty pathetic.

      Except