Harlequin Superromance September 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: This Good Man\Promises Under the Peach Tree\Husband by Choice (15 page)

McAllister laughed heartily. “What are you doing for an assistant right now?”

Reid told him. “I seem to scare the crap out of her. It's not getting better, either. And nobody I've interviewed feels right. Any suggestions?”

The sheriff had one. He'd been impressed with a clerk in Records. Leslie Needham. “The departmental head isn't going anywhere, which means no growth opportunity there. She's too sharp for the job, although selfishly I was glad to have her there so I could ask for her when I needed something. Try talking to her.”

Reid made a mental note of the name. “I will.”

McAllister wanted to know how things were going and whether Reid had any questions. Thinking about Anna's advice, Reid set aside his pride and admitted to some of his floundering.

“Take your time getting up to speed,” he was told. “Nobody expected you to be well-informed on things like data management or evidence control. Never mind supplies.”

“And fleet maintenance. I'm not a mechanic. I feel like a fraud.”

The guy looked sympathetic. “Trust the people who work for you until they prove themselves untrustworthy. That was my philosophy. When I got promoted into that position, I came out of Investigations. I didn't have any more background for that side of the job than you do.”

“At least you knew where the toilet paper was stored,” Reid grumbled.

McAllister laughed again. “I did know that.”

Reid studied the other man. He wondered if the Hales were right in thinking McAllister was fully aware of what they did. Would they have turned to him if Reid hadn't been in town?

If there was ever a time they needed to be marshaling resources, it was now.

“Paula and Roger Hale tell me they know you,” he said.

The sheriff's expression immediately became guarded. “In passing,” he agreed.

“How much do you know about what they're up to?”

McAllister considered him, not giving much away. “How much do
you
know? I thought you were new to the area.”

“They took me in years ago.” Once he'd told Anna, it seemed it had become easier to be open about his background. “It's partly because of them I decided to take the job here.”

“I see.” The sheriff stirred after a minute. “I should have acted on what I learned, but chose not to. I hope that doesn't turn out to be the worst decision of my life.”

“They're good people,” Reid said.

“That was my impression. It's why I kept my mouth shut.”

Reid smiled faintly. “Not because your wife begged you to? That's the version I heard.”

McAllister gave a reluctant grin. “Might have had something to do with it.” After an extended silence, he said, “I'm guessing there's a reason you raised the subject.”

“They're having some problems right now. Nothing you can do yet, but...I'm testing the waters.”

“You going to tell me what kind of problems?”

Reid did, including his own useless efforts to catch the perpetrator.

“So nothing lethal.” McAllister frowned. “It sounds like the work of a troubled kid to me.”

“That's been our assumption so far.” Reid hesitated, not wanting to go out on a limb that might crack any minute. “It's crossed my mind that a pissed-off parent might have found the place.”
Say, like Dad.

“If so, why wouldn't he or she go to the authorities? Why play stupid games?” McAllister shook his head. “I don't see it.”

“It's not likely,” Reid agreed. “But I've heard the stories from the kids the Hales have taken in over the years. Some of those parents aren't wired right.”

“I do realize that.” The frown lingered on McAllister's forehead. “If there's anything I can do...”

Satisfied, Reid stood up. “I'll let you know.”

“And feel free to call if you can't find the paper towels.”

Reid was laughing when he left after a firm handshake.

Pulling out of the parking lot a minute later, he wondered how long it would take his father to appear in his rearview mirror.

* * *

I
T
TOOK
A
NNA
twenty-four-plus hours to admit her reaction to Reid's part in his brother's getaway had been out of line. She knew how much he cared about Caleb. His determination to help his brother was the whole reason she and Reid had become...well, whatever they were.
Friends
didn't seem to quite cover it, not when she remembered the one passionate kiss, but she let it go for lack of any other word.

She of all people knew that sometimes there wasn't a good answer for a kid in his brother's situation. If the abuse had been going on for a long time and his father had convinced social workers and judges that it wasn't happening, Reid stepping in wouldn't necessarily turn the tide. How was he supposed to prove he'd been abused, too, all those years ago? Maybe placing Caleb somewhere safe for now
was
the best option.

She'd spent a couple of hours with Corinna Terrill's foster parents planning a funeral for a girl who was popular with her peers, and listening as they raged. The boyfriend's condition had been elevated from critical to serious, and she understood their anger even as she counseled them on what they dared be heard saying. Reporters were calling and ringing the doorbell. The principal of the high school had held a quick assembly this morning to offer grief counseling to students who wanted it. She was talking about waiting a week or two and then holding a second, lengthier assembly to hit hard on the subjects of safe driving and the perils of drinking and driving.

Anna wished her the best. This tragedy might actually chasten Angel Butte teenagers for a few weeks. An optimist would even hope for a month or two. But Anna knew darn well that by September and the beginning of a new school year, kids would have forgotten. Hormones would keep memories short. What kid ever thought anything bad would happen to him or her?

The ones who'd already had bad things happen, of course. But they would keep quiet, because that was what they did. They didn't want anyone to know how rough they had it at home. Mom might be a raging alcoholic and the fourteen-year-old knew no one else would feed her younger siblings if she didn't, but that reality would be hidden at school and even from friends. And, insane as it was, that same girl might well speed once she had her license, or think her boyfriend's reckless driving was cool. She might even have a sense of fatalism. Shit happened, and she knew she couldn't prevent it, so why not have fun?

Anna went home weary and seriously depressed.

She lasted through dinner before her conscience made her pick up the phone. She almost hoped to get Reid's voice mail, but instead he answered immediately.

“Hi,” she said, feeling shy.

“Hey.” His voice was low and gruff. “I kept thinking about you today.”

“Me, too. I mean, I thought about you.”

He laughed. “Good.”

“I just wanted to, well, tell you I'm sorry for saying what I did about Caleb.” She finished in a hurry. “I do trust you. And it's true that getting a kid involved in the foster-care system isn't always the best answer.”

“Thank you for saying that.” He sounded even gruffer. “The truth is, I'm afraid of losing if I take our father on in court.”

“I know,” she said. “Although—” Anna squeezed her eyes shut. She'd sworn she wasn't going to pretend to have all the answers for him. Nobody liked a know-it-all.

“Although?” he prompted.

Now she pretty much had to say what she'd been thinking. “Just that having two of you saying the same thing might make the difference. That's all.”

The pause made her wonder what he was thinking. “Maybe,” he said at last. Typically unrevealing.

“Anyway, that's all I called to say. I get on my high horse easily. That's not what you needed from me.”

Again there was a pause before he spoke. “Actually, I like it that you're honest with me, Anna. Don't pull your punches.”

She gave a weak smile he wouldn't see. “I don't think anybody has ever said that to me before.”

His chuckle felt like the slightly rough feel of his fingertips on her skin. “Have you eaten?” he asked.

“Yes. You?”

“Yeah. I could have used company.”

“Did you have a bad day?”

“Not the best. You?”

They weren't saying anything special, but she realized they were both speaking in soft voices, as if... She didn't know.

“It was awful,” she admitted. “Mostly fallout from the car accident. Um. Is your father still lurking?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“I suppose he'd follow you if you came over here.”
Oh my God
. Was she suggesting...? The heat in her cheeks told her that, yes, she'd just invited him over.

“Are you asking me?” The timbre of Reid's voice had changed.

“If...well, you want to talk or anything.” Especially
anything,
she admitted to herself. She didn't do casual sex—but sex with Reid Sawyer wouldn't be casual, not on her part.

“Yes, he'll undoubtedly follow me, but I don't give a damn. Unless it'll bother you to have him know where you live.”

“He isn't a threat to me, is he?”

“No.” His words came slower. “Not to you.”

“You?” she whispered.

“Not anymore. If you mean it, I'll be there in five.”

Her heart was pounding, but that didn't stop her from saying, “I mean it.”

“Good,” he said with some of the same intonation he had used earlier. His satisfaction was unmistakable.

Anna rushed to clean her kitchen before he arrived, as if he'd care, then sprinted into the bathroom to peer anxiously at herself in the mirror. Too late to do much of anything about her appearance, even if her suddenly slapping on a bunch of makeup wouldn't be ridiculously obvious. She made a face at herself. Obvious? No, just ridiculous.

In the end, she settled for running a brush through her hair and changing out of her cozy but hideous cardigan into a loose-weaved sweater that clung to her body, making her look curvier than she actually was.

False advertising, she thought with a sigh, then jumped six inches when the doorbell rang. Pulse racing, she rushed to let Reid in.

He probably only wanted to talk anyway.

The breadth of his shoulders blocked any sight of his father's SUV. She hurriedly drew him in anyway. “Is he there?” Silly to be whispering.

He grinned, watching as she shut and locked the front door. “Nope. He likes to ride my bumper. Amazingly enough, he just got his second ticket of the day for tailgating. Which also means he lost me.”

“Second of the day?” She stared at him. “You're responsible, aren't you?”

“Damn straight.” The amusement was gone, the steel bared. “The son of a bitch is going to find out he can't terrorize me.”

Maybe she should have an ethical problem with him using the police force for a personal vendetta, but... “If he's dumb enough not to have learned from the first ticket, he deserves what he has coming,” she decided. “Besides, I hate drivers who tailgate.”

Reid flashed another of those truly wicked grins. “Me, too. I'm performing a community service.”

They were in the middle of her small living room when she hesitated. “Would you like a cup of coffee? Or...?”

He took a step closer to her, lifting his hand as if to cup her face, but stopping before he touched her. His eyes had a dark glow that mesmerized her. “No coffee,” he said. “All I want is you.”

She tilted her head to nestle her face in his hand. “Yes, please,” she said, her voice shaking.

He groaned, and the next thing she knew his hand had slid around to the back of her head and his mouth had closed over hers.

Anna rose on tiptoe and kissed him back with all the passion in her.

CHAPTER NINE

R
EID
HAD
MADE
a resolution on the way over here. No matter how much he wanted her, this was just going to be sex. Good sex, he hoped, but he wasn't for one minute going to forget his limitations, and he sure as hell wasn't going to loosen the reins on his willpower. Which meant controlling even the kiss.

The fact that hunger rushed over him like a tsunami and had him devouring her shook him enough that he forced himself to pull his mouth from Anna's to string small kisses along her jaw, to nuzzle her neck, to nibble on her earlobe. He needed to get a grip.
Make it slow,
he reminded himself.
Give her pleasure. Don't push her up against the wall and bury yourself in her the way you want.

God. That was something he'd never done before, but the picture leaped into his mind, shockingly vivid, and he had to grit his teeth to suppress a raw sound.

The next few minutes turned into something of a battle. She kept trying to capture his mouth; he'd let her win the skirmish, but would keep the kiss light and teasing. He didn't dare start to undress her. Touching her breasts through the nubby sweater and thin T-shirt was about all he could handle in slow-down mode.

Eventually, he raised his head. “Bedroom?” He sounded hoarse.

She stared at him almost blindly. “Oh. Um.” Her head turned. “Upstairs.”

God help him. He was so damn hard he didn't know how he was going to climb the stairs, but he wasn't going to throw her down on her sofa, either. He had something to prove to himself.

No, it wasn't that complicated. He just needed to make sure he didn't get mixed up about what this meant.

He grabbed her hand and led her to the foot of the staircase. It reared above them like Mount Rainier. He could see the sofa out of the corner of his eye.
No!
Put one foot in front of the other.

She took the initiative and led the way, tugging him by the hand. As he plodded, she laughed over her shoulder at him, her eyes alight. “Slowpoke,” she teased.

“I have a handicap,” he growled.

“Really? Is that what it is?”

No, it was the hard-on to end all hard-ons. He'd liked her better on the defensive, he decided.

No, this is good,
he assured himself.
All she wants is to have fun, too.

Was that what this was supposed to be?

The upstairs of her new town house had only two bedrooms. He saw through the first open door that she was using one of the rooms for a home office. The other, thank God, was her bedroom. He had an impression of warm colors and glowing wood, but all he really saw was the bed. Only a double, which suggested she might not entertain men here often. No footboard, so his feet could hang off the bottom.

When they reached the bed, Anna turned to face him. Those soft gray eyes searched his face, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she did a little shimmy and pulled sweater and tee over her head, ruffling her sleek dark blond hair and leaving her wearing only a bra that was presumably intended to be skin colored. Her skin was so white, it didn't work.

His question was answered about what she wore beneath her clothes. Utilitarian color, delicate cut, allowing a swell of female flesh above satin fabric. A guttural sound escaped Reid's throat, and he placed his palms right over her breasts and gently rotated. She bent her head and watched, hair fanning down to partially hide her expression.

Her breasts were considerably more generous than they appeared in her workday clothes. The truth was, she was so slender, with a narrow rib cage and tiny waist, the swell of what he guessed might even be C-cup breasts was erotic enough to cut off his breathing. He had to close his eyes for a moment.

You're in control.
His mantra. He didn't usually have to remind himself.

His hands didn't wait for direction. One had slipped behind her to unclip her bra so that, by the time he opened his eyes, the straps were already slipping off her shoulders and down her arms. She turned out to have small, taut nipples, rosy-pink.

Reid dropped to his knees in front of her and worked on freeing her from her slacks. The panties were tan, too, and damn skimpy. The soft curls he found beneath were a shade darker than her hair, a light brown. He eased slacks and panties down her long legs, until he helped her step out of shoes and clothes. The socks he had to peel off.

Then he explored her legs as he stroked his hands back up the way they'd come. Spectacular legs, slim with taut muscles. He'd already known how fabulous they were after seeing her in the skintight, stretchy pants she'd worn skiing. Her hips were almost boyish, but not quite. His thumbs explored the dip beneath her pelvic bones, then the jut of them covered by silky skin. Testing his self-control, he rubbed his cheek against her curls, feeling her fingers tangle in his hair and grip hard. When he licked between her folds, she gasped.

“Reid.”

Oh, yeah. He liked the way she said his name.

He did it again, swirled his tongue a few times, closing his mind to everything but the amazing taste and sensations, the little sounds she made.

The fact that you're taking your time. Good.

He shed his shirt before he rose to his feet, and Anna immediately transferred her hands from his head to his chest. Every muscle in his body tightened at her exploring touch. In self-defense, he lifted her and laid her backward across the bed, planting a knee between her legs and pinning her hands above her head.

Better.

He made slow love to her, leaving his own trousers on. More self-defense. Only when her hips were rising helplessly and cries broke from her lips did he grab a packet from his pocket and get naked.

“Let me,” she whispered, but he shook his head.

“Not this time.”

Reid was shocked to see his hands were shaking when he donned the condom. Not a good sign.

He wanted her and that was okay. He was controlling the pace.

He went back to kissing her, his tongue deep in her mouth. She sucked on it, sending an electric charge through his body. Her legs were already splayed wide. All he had to do was position himself and push.

As slight as she was, he wasn't surprised to find her passage was tight. Move slow, when the roaring in his head demanded he plunge hard and fast. She squirmed, tilting her hips to meet him. By the time he was buried as deep as he could go, the very concept of self-control was beyond him.

Anna's fingers dug into the muscles of his back and she moaned.

At the small sound, he began to move.

He held on, although, God, he didn't know how, until he felt the first ripples of her climax. Only then did he let himself go, pounding into her once, twice, three times, the pleasure making him deaf, dumb and blind.

So damn good.

He didn't let himself sag on top of her the way he wanted to. Instead, he came down on his shoulder and rolled to the side, gently pulling her with him until her slim body was arranged the way he liked it.

It was a long time until he could think. Euphoria spread like a drug in his bloodstream.
Yeah, so what?
he thought as his brain gradually came back online. Sex was supposed to feel good. It had been too long for him. And, damn, he'd wanted her. He wouldn't make more of it than it was.

He should say something. What? Did he
usually
say anything at this moment? For some weird reason, he couldn't remember. Couldn't even quite picture another woman's head resting on his shoulder, the scent of another woman's hair. Something like panic squeezed him, but he stamped down hard on it. What an idiot, freaking because the sex was good.

It was Anna who eased herself away from him. She rose on one elbow and raked her hair back from her face. Her eyes searched his again, and this time he had no idea at all what she was thinking. There was a tiny crinkle between her eyebrows.

“Do you always like to be in charge?” she asked.

Stunned to know that she'd seen right through him, he let the silence go a little longer than he should have. “Yeah,” he said finally. “It's the nature of the beast. Was it so bad?”

“You know it wasn't.” But the tension evident in her voice and on her forehead didn't ease, either. “I just would have liked—” She didn't finish.

He caressed her face, slid his fingers into the silk of her hair. “Would have liked?”

Anna shook her head slightly but emphatically. “It doesn't matter.” She laid her head back down, relaxing as if comfortable, but he wasn't fooled.

The panic was pressing upward, feeling a lot like heartburn. Stirred into it was a hint of wounded pride. That wasn't good enough for her? He knew she'd come, had heard her cry his name in astonishment. So what the hell did she want?

Resentment stirred. Power. That was what she wanted. To demonstrate her power over him. To know she could reduce him to sheer desperation.

Wasn't happening. If his brand of lovemaking wasn't good enough for her, well, there were plenty of women in a city the size of Angel Butte.

He rolled out of bed. “This was a mistake.”

There was a discernible silence behind him before she said, “If you think so, then it was.” She sounded cool, even indifferent.

Reid yanked up his knit boxers and the black dress pants he'd worn to work. He had to look at her. He didn't make a habit of slicing people deep without at least checking to see what he'd done to them.

Of course she wasn't looking at him. She, too, had slid out of bed, but on the other side. As gutsy as she was, he should have known she wouldn't try to wrap a sheet around herself to hide her body. Instead, with her head held high, she walked to the dresser. While he still stood there feeling cruel and, God help him, turned on by the sight of her slim, pale body, she put on bikini underwear—petal-pink—followed by a pair of jeans.

The bra she grabbed for didn't match. She probably didn't notice or care. Although she was keeping her back to him, he could see her beautiful breasts in the mirror above the dresser. Covered, then adjusted after she hooked the bra in back. A moment later, she pulled a long-sleeved tee over her head and at last turned to face him.

Reid hadn't moved. Even in the mirror, he'd seen her eyes. For all her composure, he'd hurt her. Feeling sick, he asked himself if he'd meant to.
You got what you came for, and now you want to make damn sure she doesn't expect anything else or deceive herself you'll be back for more.

That, or he had lashed out because she'd hurt
his
feelings.

The first option sounded more like him. He didn't like knowing it, but he was capable of thinking that coldly. Sometimes that was the only way he could protect himself.

The thought rattled him. Protect himself from
what?

Feeling too much.

Reid thought of himself as a decent man. He didn't hurt people on purpose, although he'd like to make an exception for his father. He especially didn't hurt the women he had sex with if he could help it. But it had been easy to be a decent man when he didn't feel anything and had no need to protect himself.

Reid suddenly became aware he hadn't moved. His shirt lay on the floor halfway to the door. His socks and shoes were... He didn't know.

“I'm sorry,” he said hoarsely.

Those extraordinary eyes met his. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Reid. I knew you didn't want to get involved with me. That's okay. But I'd like you to leave now.”

“No. I didn't mean it.” He almost groaned, the turmoil rising in him to fill his chest cavity. He couldn't afford to do this.

Anna crossed her arms. “What didn't you mean?”

“It wasn't a mistake.”

“Obviously it was, or we wouldn't be having this discussion.”

“No.” God. A boulder lodged in his throat. “I was...” What? He knew, but could he say it? “Afraid,” he managed, sick that he'd bared himself to this extent. He remembered what he'd thought once, that for her he would roll on his back and expose his naked underside. That was what he was doing now.

The only reaction he could see was the slight widening of her eyes. “Afraid of what?”

“You were right. I do have to be in control. I didn't want to lose it with you. I needed to be sure—” He didn't know how to finish.

“I didn't get the impression I was anything special?” The bitterness was the first real emotion she'd let slip into her voice.

Oh, Christ,
he thought, and, yes, he was going to do this despite the fear ripping at his gut. He'd found something more powerful even than his need to keep his distance from everyone and every emotion.

Anna.

He knew, somehow, that she'd been hurt in ways worse than what she'd told him. He could not, would not, add a layer, whatever the cost to him.

She was still waiting for him to finish the damn sentence. “I needed to prove to myself that you aren't.”
Special
wasn't a word he could say. Implying was bad enough.

“Well, you succeeded,” she told him, and the sharpness was still there. “Congratulations.”

“No. I didn't succeed.” He rubbed a hand over his face, willing it to stay impassive. “I hurt your feelings, and I didn't fool myself for a second.”

Her forehead crinkled as she scrutinized him. “Do you have any idea how much I hate knowing that every time you call me, you wish you hadn't wanted to?”

“You can tell?” he asked in surprise, then winced at what he'd given away.

Her laugh broke. “Of course I can tell. I should never have asked you over tonight.
I
knew it was a mistake, but I suppose I hoped—”

He put a name to what he now felt: anguish. Or was it terror? Reid didn't know where he was going with her, or whether he wanted to go there, but walking away now would be worse.