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Completely Smitten
Susan Mallery


Haley Foster had lived her entire life in a box.Guided by her preacher father and the residents of her tiny hometown as to what to do, what to wear and even who to marry, she'd lost herself along the way. But no more. Now she was going to live on her own terms and do all the things good preachers' daughters didn't do. Starting with Kevin Harmon.The injured U.S. Marshal needed a ride from Kansas to his home in Texas. Haley had a car. She figured she owed him a favor. And he knew a lot more about being bad than she did. A few days, just the two of them, in her tiny convertible and intimate hotel roomsIt would be fun, it would be passionate, it would be an experience. At least, that was her plan. He just didn't know it yet.















In our 2011 Bestselling Author Collection, Harlequin Books is proud to offer classic novels from today’s superstars of women’s fiction. These authors have captured the hearts of millions of readers around the world, and earned their place on the bestseller lists with every release.

As a bonus, each volume also includes a full-length novel from a rising star of series romance. Bestselling authors in their own right, these talented writers have captured the qualities Harlequin is famous for—heart-racing passion, edge-of-your-seat entertainment and a satisfying happily-ever-after.

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Praise for New York Times and USA TODAY

bestselling author Susan Mallery


“Romance novels don’t get much better than Mallery’s expert blend of emotional nuance, humor and superb storytelling.”

—Booklist on Accidentally Yours

“Susan Mallery’s stories will make you fall in love and laugh out loud.”

—#1 New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Debbie Macomber

“Mallery’s prose is luscious and provocative, and her characters worth following from book to book.”

—Publishers Weekly on Sizzling


Completely Smitten

Susan Mallery






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To my readers, with thanks.

And to my former editor, Karen Taylor Richman, who always loved this book.




Contents


COMPLETELY SMITTEN

SUSAN MALLERY

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen




COMPLETELY SMITTEN


New York Times and USA TODAY Bestselling Author

Susan Mallery




SUSAN MALLERY


is a New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of more than ninety romances. Her combination of humor, emotion and just-plain-sexy has made her a reader favorite. Susan makes her home in the Pacific Northwest with her handsome husband and possibly the world’s cutest dog. Visit her website at www.SusanMallery.com.




Chapter One


All Kevin Harmon wanted was a beer, a burger and a bed, in that order. He’d had the kind of day designed to make a man rethink his career choices. He’d been bit, he was stuck in the middle of Kansas on a night that was practically guaranteed to produce twisters, and he’d just been offered a promotion. Not one thing was going right with his life. For once he wasn’t looking for trouble, so of course trouble came looking for him.

He’d been around long enough to know that when a pretty, wide-eyed blonde walked into a seedy roadside bar, somewhere, somehow, there was going to be hell to pay. Kevin was determined to stay out of the way. No matter what.

He turned his attention from the petite blonde back to the bartender. “Burger,” he said, pushing the plastic menu back at the man. “Extra fries.”

The bartender nodded and wrote something on a pad of paper, then set a frosty mug down on a once-white coaster advertising the local grange.

Kevin took a long drink. He’d just spent the better part of the day transporting a convicted felon across state lines. The process had not gone smoothly, which explained the bite on his arm. The skin hadn’t been broken, but he really hated when there was trouble on the road. If he hadn’t drawn the short straw, he would be down in Florida, helping with a drug raid. But no, he was stuck in Kansas where the air was so thick you could practically stand a spoon up in midair. The pressure was rising—or maybe falling—he could never remember which one caused storms to spin out of control and become tornados.

He’d grown up with twisters, back when he’d lived in Texas, and he’d never liked them. They always seemed to show up right when he was supposed to be whipping the crosstown rival at a baseball game.

Kevin thought about tornados and Texas. He even tried to remember if he needed to buy milk when he flew home the next day. Anything to keep from turning to watch the progress of the blonde. It wasn’t that she was so attractive that he couldn’t resist her. Far from it. Sure, she was pretty enough, but pretty was a dime a dozen.

Instead, what made him determined to stay out of it was the nervousness he’d seen lurking in her eyes, and the hesitation in her step. She belonged in this bar as much as a dog with mange belonged in church.

The bartender flipped on a small television. Instantly the sound of a ball game blasted into the half-full room. Kevin continued to drink his beer, while he stared determinedly at the screen. He ignored everything else, even the half sly, half defiant male laughter behind him.

Bullies moving in for the kill.

He swore under his breath as he set his mug on the bar and pulled off his cap. The one with U.S. Marshals embroidered on the front. He was hot, he was tired, he was hungry. The last thing he wanted tonight was a fight.

Since when did fate pay any attention to what he wanted?

He turned on the bar stool and surveyed the situation. The blonde stood between two big guys with more tattoos than sense. A third, smaller man, had his hand on her arm.

She was of medium height, maybe five-four or five-five, with short hair and big eyes, more blue than hazel. There wasn’t a speck of makeup on her face, but she was still attractive, with full lips and a stubborn-looking chin.

Her clothing choices made him wince. The shapeless short-sleeved dress she wore fell nearly to her ankles. It looked ugly enough to be embarrassed to be a dust cloth—with a white lace collar and some god-awful flower print. What was it about women and clothes with plants on them?

Kevin approached the quartet. The blonde struggled to break free of the little guy’s hold. When she looked up and saw him, relief filled her eyes.

“You with them?” he asked, getting more tired by the second.

She shook her head.

Kevin turned his full attention on the man holding her arm. “Then, son, you’d best let the lady go.”

One of the big guys took a step toward him. Kevin flexed his hands.

“I’ve had a bad day, gentlemen. I’m hungry, tired, and not in the mood. So you can walk away right now, or we can move it outside. I feel obliged to warn you that if we take this to the next level, the only one walking away will be me.”

Haley couldn’t believe it. She felt as if she was in one of those Clint Eastwood Dirty Harry movies her dad liked so much. She half expected to see the dark-haired man pull out a .357 Magnum and ask someone to make his day.

Instead, the skinny man with rabbit teeth who’d been holding her arm let go. He took a step back, holding up his hands and trying to smile.

“We didn’t mean nothin’. Just thought the lady would like some company.”

His two friends nodded. They were big. Bigger than her rescuer. A couple of their tattoos had interesting swearwords woven into the designs. She’d been trying to read them when Mr. Rabbit Teeth had grabbed her.

The three of them threw some bills on their table and left. Haley breathed a sigh of relief.

“That was something,” she said earnestly. “I didn’t know what to do. I mean, when he wouldn’t let go. I thought about screaming, but it’s kind of embarrassing to have to do that. I didn’t want to make a fuss.”

The man who had come to her assistance didn’t say anything. Instead, he headed back toward the bar and slid onto his stool. She followed.

“Thank you for rescuing me,” she said.

“Make a fuss,” he said, reaching for his beer.

She sat next to him. “What?”

He took a long swallow, then stared at her over the mug. “Next time you get in trouble, make a fuss. Better yet, next time stay out of bars.”

Haley reached out to tug on a strand of her hair, only to remember too late that she’d cut it all off the previous afternoon. Instead of a long braid nearly to her waist, she had short bits of fluff flying around her head.

She smoothed what was left of her bangs, then nodded. Stay out of bars. It was probably good advice. “I just can’t,” she said with a sigh. “Not yet.”

The man stared at her. “You have a death wish?”

She laughed. “I’m not going to get killed. I just need to handle things better.” She scooted a little closer and lowered her voice. “Can you believe that until two days ago I’d never been in a bar before?”

Her rescuer stared at her in shock.

“I know,” she said. “I’ve led a very sheltered life. It’s pathetic. I mean, I’m twenty-five years old and I’ve been living like a nun.” She shrugged. “Not that I’m Catholic. We’re Baptists. My dad’s a minister at our church.”

The man didn’t say anything. He turned his attention to the baseball game on the television. Haley studied his strong profile. He was handsome, in a rugged, cigarette-advertisement sort of way. There was an air of strength about him. He looked people in the eye when he spoke and she liked that. He wore his dark hair short.

She reached over and picked up his U.S. Marshals cap, then ran her fingers along the stitching. “So you’re like a cop?”

“Sort of.”

“I’ll bet you’re a good one.”

He turned his attention back to her. She noticed he had brown eyes the color of chocolate, and while he’d yet to smile at her, she liked the shape of his mouth.

“How the hell would you know that?” he asked, sounding gruff and annoyed.

His tone made her spine stiffen just a little, while the swearword startled her. He’d said the H-word. Just like that. She would bet that he hadn’t even planned it. The word had just come out.

One day she was going to swear, too. She would casually drop the H-word or the D-word into conversation. But that was all. Swearing was one thing, but really bad words were just ugly.

He waved a hand in front of her face. “Are you still in there?”

“Oh. Sorry. What was the question?”

“Never mind.”

She put his hat back on the bar. “I’m Haley Foster.” She held out her hand.

He stared at it for a long time before taking it in his and shaking. “Kevin Harmon.”

“Nice to meet you, Kevin.”

He grunted and turned back to the television.

Haley shifted slightly on her stool and took in the ambience of the location. There were several posters of various sports, some advertisements for alcoholic beverages. The floor was dirty, and some of the tables looked as if they hadn’t been wiped off in a while. Except for a woman with an incredibly large bosom in the corner, she seemed to be the only female in the place.

She glanced at her watch. It was nearly eight. “Why aren’t there more women here?” she asked.

Kevin never took his gaze off the game. “It’s not that kind of place.”

“What kind of place?”

“This isn’t the kind of bar where you bring a date.”

There were different kinds of bars? “How do you know that?”

“I just know.”

A not very helpful answer.

The bartender walked over. “What can I get you?”

Haley eyed Kevin’s beer. Yesterday she’d had her first glass of white wine ever. To be honest, she hadn’t really liked it.

“A margarita,” she said.

“Frozen or on the rocks?”

The only liquor question she knew the answer to was James Bond’s, “Shaken, not stirred.” Okay, rocks were ice. On the rocks would mean over ice, which wasn’t how she pictured margaritas.

“Frozen,” she said. “Oh. Do you have any of those little umbrellas to put in the glass?”

The bartender stared at her. “No.”

“Too bad.” She’d always wanted a drink with a little umbrella.

She watched as the man poured various liquids into a blender. He added a scoop of ice, then set the whole thing to whirling and crunching. When he finally put a glass in front of her, the light green concoction looked more like a slushy drink than anything else.

“Thanks.”

She took a sip from the tiny straw the bartender had dropped into her glass.

The first thing she noticed was the cold. The second was the flavor. Not sweet, but not bitter, either. Kind of lime, kind of something else.

“It’s good,” she said in surprise. It was sure better than that wine she’d had the previous night. She turned her attention back to Kevin.

“So why are you here?”

He turned slowly until his dark gaze rested on her face. He was really very handsome. She found herself wishing she hadn’t been quite so quick to cut off all her hair. Allan had always said it was her best feature.

Allan. She took a long drink of her margarita. She did not want to think about him. Not now. Not ever.

“Are you asking my spiritual purpose in the universe?” Kevin asked.

“Only if you want to tell me. I was thinking more of, do you live around here? What are you doing in the bar? That sort of thing.”

He finished his beer and pushed the glass across the bar. “Another,” he called before turning his attention back to her. “What are you doing here? In this bar. Today.”

“Well…” She took another long sip. “I’m driving to Hawaii.”

Kevin wished he’d changed the order of his wants back when life had still been sane. If he’d wanted a bed, a beer and a burger, he would now be in some hotel, ordering room service and watching the game in peace. Instead, he was having a conversation with a woman who had left the functioning part of her brain back in her car.

“Hawaii?”

Haley beamed at him. “Okay, so I know you can’t really drive to Hawaii, but I’m going to get as close as possible.”

“That would be California.”

“Right. I’ll figure out the rest of it when I get there.”

“Where are you driving from?”

“Western Ohio. I’m—”

But whatever she’d been about to confess was cut off by the arrival of his dinner. Haley stared at the large plate containing a burger on a bun—the top of the bun covered with lettuce, tomatoes and onion—along with a mound of fries that threatened to fall onto the counter.

“You can get food in a bar?” she asked, incredulous. “For real?”

He remembered walking to school years ago and seeing a starving dog. The dirty brown-and-white fur ball had been hiding in an alley. Kevin had taken one look at its shivering, skinny self, then he’d handed over his sandwich. He’d gone without lunch for two days before finally taking the dog home.

“You’re broke,” he said flatly, wondering when his luck had gotten so bad. He pushed the plate toward her. “Eat up.”

She took another drink of her margarita. “Broke?” She swallowed. “No. I have money.”

She put the glass on the bar, then pulled a small purse that had been dangling off one shoulder onto her lap and opened it. Inside was a wad of bills.

“I cleaned out my savings account,” she said, then lowered her voice. “I have the rest of it in traveler’s checks. It’s really much safer that way.” The purse closed with a snap.

She took another drink, then gasped and slapped her hands over her face.

“Ouch. Oh, yuck. It hurts. It hurts.” She shimmied on the bar stool, alternately cupping her nose and mouth and waving her hand back and forth.

Kevin pulled his plate in front of him, then nodded at the bartender. “Could we have a glass of water?”

The bartender filled a glass and passed it over to Haley. She gulped some down. After a couple of swallows, she sighed.

“Much better.” She put the glass down. “I had one of those flash ice headaches.”

“We all knew that.”

She half stood, stretched over the bar and snagged a small plate. “Want to share your fries?”

“Why not?”

She scooped several onto her plate and crunched the first one.

He was in hell, he decided, watching her. Somewhere in his day, he’d died and this was God’s way of punishing him for all the screwing up he’d done in his life.

“So I’m from Ohio,” she said with a smile. “Western Ohio. A little town you’ve never heard of. Have you been to Ohio?”

“Columbus.”

“It’s nice, huh?”

“A wonderful place.”

She nodded, not coming close to catching the sarcasm in his voice.

Why him? That’s what he wanted to know. There were probably twenty other guys in the bar. Why had he been the one to come to her rescue? Why hadn’t someone else stepped in?

“Like I said, my dad’s a minister.” She ate another French fry, then drank more of her margarita. “My mom died when I was born, so I don’t remember her. The thing is, when you’re the preacher’s kid, everybody feels responsible for keeping you on the straight and narrow. I didn’t have one mother—I had fifty. I couldn’t even think something bad before it was being reported to my dad.”

“Uh-huh.”

Kevin turned back to the game and tried not to listen.

“So that’s why I don’t know the bar thing.”

“What bar thing?” he asked before he could stop himself.

“That this isn’t a bar people bring their dates to. I’m practicing being bad.”

That got his attention. He swung back to face her. “Bad?”

“You bet.” She finished her margarita and pushed her glass to the edge of the counter. “I’d like another one, please,” she said, then beamed at the bartender. “It was great.”

She turned back to Kevin. “I just wish I could have a little umbrella.”

He didn’t care about that. “Tell me about being bad.”

“I haven’t been. Ever. So that’s what I’m doing on my drive to Hawaii.” She glanced around as if to make sure no one was listening. “This is only my third time in a bar.”

“You’re kidding,” he said, more because he was hoping she wasn’t telling the truth than because he didn’t believe her.

“When I left home three days ago, I’d never even had anything alcoholic to drink. So that first night, when I stopped, I went into a bar.” She bit into another fry and wrinkled her nose. Humor crinkled the corners of her eyes.

“It was horrible,” she said when she’d swallowed. “I felt so out of place and when a man smiled at me, I ran out the door. Yesterday was better.”

He gave up. There was no point in avoiding what was obviously his fate. “Your second time in a bar?”

She nodded. “I had white wine, but I have to tell you I didn’t like it at all. But I did almost speak to someone.”

Great.

The bartender finished blending the margarita and set it in front of her. “Want to run a tab?” he asked.

Haley pressed her lips together for a couple of seconds. “Maybe,” she said at last.

“Yes,” Kevin said. “Run her a tab. You want your own order of fries?”

“Okay. Extra salt, please.”

The bartender muttered something under his breath, then wrote on his small pad.

“A tab,” Kevin said when they were alone, “means they keep a list of what you’ve ordered. You pay once at the end of the evening instead of paying each time.”

Haley’s blue-hazel eyes widened. “That’s so cool.”

He had a feeling the world was going to be one constant amazement after the other for her.

He studied her pale skin, her wide smile and trusting eyes. This was not a woman who should be let out on her own.

“You need to think about heading back to Ohio.”

“No way.” She took a long drink of her margarita. “I’ve spent my entire life doing what everyone else has told me to do. Now I’m only doing what I want. No matter what.”

Her expression turned fierce. “You can’t know what it’s like,” she continued. “I never get to voice my opinion. If I even try, I get ignored. No one cares what I think or what I want.”

“That’s why you’re running away?”

“Exactly.” She picked up a French fry, then put it back on the plate. “How did you know I was running away?”

“You’re not the kind of woman to come to a place like this on purpose.”

She glanced around at the seedy clientele, then shrugged. “I want new experiences.”

“Like little umbrellas in your drinks?”

“Exactly.”

She smiled. He had to admit she had a great smile. Her whole face lit up. She’d said she was twenty-five, but in some ways she acted more like an awkward teenager than a grown woman. No doubt being the daughter of a single father minister had something to do with it.

He thought about suggesting that next time she find her new experience at a more upscale bar, but then he reminded himself he wasn’t getting involved. He had enough problems of his own without adding her to the list.

“It’s not that I don’t like the piano,” she said.

“What?”

“The piano. I play. It was expected. I can also play the organ, but only a few hymns and not very well.”

“Okay.” He started eating his burger.

“The music is great. But I wanted to be a teacher.”

“Your father objected?” he asked before he could stop himself.

She sighed. “He would never come out and tell me no. That’s not his way. But there was subtle pressure. In a way that’s a whole lot harder to resist. I mean, a direct statement can be argued, but hints and nudges kind of sweep you along until you suddenly wake up and find yourself in a place you don’t want to be.”

She took another long drink of her margarita. The bartender appeared with a plate of fries. Haley smiled her thanks.

Kevin finished his burger and thought about making his escape.

“You want me to replace what I took?” she asked, motioning to his plate.

“No thanks.”

She shrugged, then munched on another fry. “So you’re a U.S. Marshal. What are you doing here?”

“I just delivered a prisoner to the federal penitentiary up the road.”

Her eyes widened. “There’s a prison here?”

“Didn’t you see the signs about not picking up hitchhikers?”

“Sure, but I thought it was some kind of joke. You know, a local gag on tourists.”

“This isn’t a real tourist haven. Most of the folks are passing through or here to visit relatives.”

She glanced over her shoulder, then leaned close and lowered her voice. “People here know men in prison?”

He groaned. “Haley, have you ever been outside of your hometown before?”

“Of course. I spent four years at the Southern Baptist College for Young Women.”

Just perfect. “And after your college experience?”

“I went back home, where I got my master’s in music and finished up the courses I needed for my teaching credentials. I graduated with honors.”

She reached for her glass. Her hand missed the stem by about three inches. She stretched out her fingers, then curled them into her palm.

“My skin feels funny,” she said. “My cheeks tingle.”

Kevin swore silently. He glanced at the nearly finished second drink, then turned his attention to the bartender drying glasses with a dirty towel.

“Doubles?” he asked.

The old man grinned. “Thought you might want to get lucky.”

Perfect. Just perfect. In less than forty minutes the nondrinking preacher’s daughter had just consumed the equivalent of four shots of tequila. The full effect of the alcohol wasn’t going to hit for about twenty more minutes. He would bet a week’s salary that she would be on her butt about thirty seconds after that.

He slapped some money onto the bar and stood. “Come on, Haley. I’m going to get you out of here while you can still walk. Have you got a hotel room?”

She blinked at him. “I can walk.”

“Sure you can. Why don’t you try?”

She wore the ugliest beige shoes he’d ever seen, but at least the heel wasn’t too high. When she slid off the stool, she stood straight just long enough to give him hope. Maybe he’d overreacted. Maybe—

She swayed so far to the left, she nearly toppled over.

“Am I drunk?” she asked, sounding delighted as she managed to stand straight. “The room is spinning. Wow. This is so cool.”

Yeah, everything was cool to her. “Do you have a motel room?” he repeated, speaking slowly and deliberately.

“Yeah. The pink one. I liked the color. It’s over there. Outside.”

She pointed to the exit and nearly fell on her face. Kevin gritted his teeth.

“Put your arm around my shoulders,” he instructed as he wrapped an arm around her waist.

His first impression was of heat; his second, of slender curves that got his body’s attention in a big way.

Instead of following orders, Haley simply sagged against him. “You smell good,” she said as he half carried her toward the door.

“Thanks.”

He would get her to her motel and leave, he told himself. She would probably pass out in a matter of seconds and wake up with a hangover big enough to cure her of ever wanting another margarita. She’d made it this far without him, she would get to wherever she was going without his assistance.

Kevin knew he was trying to convince himself that he wasn’t responsible for Haley. Unfortunately he wasn’t doing a very good job.

They stepped into the sultry evening air. Haley sucked in a deep breath, then turned to look at him. As she was leaning against him, her face rested on his shoulder. Her mouth was inches from his. One of her wisps of blond hair brushed against his cheek.

“So,” Haley said, licking her lips. “Is this where you take advantage of me?”

“What?”

She blinked slowly, then smiled. “I don’t think I’d mind.”




Chapter Two


She wouldn’t mind?

Kevin did his best to ignore the sexual desire that slammed into him the second she spoke the words. His unexpected attraction to Haley couldn’t begin to matter. Not with circumstances being what they were. She was drunk, alone, out of her element and, with his luck, a virgin. Thanks, but not tonight.

Lightning cut across the sky, as if warning him the Almighty was keeping tabs on the evening’s events. With that in mind, Kevin ignored the curves pressing against his body and the way those curves made him feel. She might be a little slimmer than he’d first realized, but she seemed to have everything in the right place under her ugly dress. Not that he was going to be checking her out.

“Did you say a pink motel?” he asked, looking around at the motor inns on both sides of the highway.

“Uh-huh. There’s flamingos.” She blinked at him. “I like birds.”

“Good to know.”

He spotted a low, two-story structure that matched her description. He mentally cringed at the plastic flamingos stuck into the cement. If the place looked this bad at night, what did it look like in the light of day? Of course, there was no accounting for taste.

At least they didn’t have to cross the highway to get there. The motel was only a couple hundred yards up the frontage road.

“Let’s start walking,” he said, still supporting most of her weight.

A second bolt of lightning illuminated the sky.

“Look!” Haley said, pointing at the heavens. “Don’t you love lightning? Don’t you wish it would rain?”

“Sure.”

Because a douse of cold water might cool him off. Drunk women begging to be taken advantage of were nothing but trouble. He had to keep reminding himself of that as Haley’s soft blond hair brushed against his cheek.

He got them moving in the direction of the motel. Haley was still upright and remotely mobile, but he had a feeling that was going to be changing in the next few minutes. At least she was still managing full sentences.

“Do you know your room number?”

Rather than answer, she sighed. He felt the soft puff of air on his cheek.

“You never answered my question,” she said instead.

“What question?”

He made the mistake of looking at her face—at her blue-hazel eyes and the curves at the corners of her mouth. At the knowing expression that heated his blood and made him consider possibilities.

“No way,” he muttered more to himself than to her. He was not going there with her.

She pushed away from him and tried to stand on her own. She was nearly successful. With her feet firmly planted, she swayed back and forth, stumbled a step, then regained her balance by holding her arms out a little on each side.

“What is it about me?” she demanded. “Why don’t men want to take advantage of me? Am I ugly? Is my body hideous?”

Did they really need to be having this conversation now? He eyed the night sky—thick with clouds and the promise of rain. More lightning flashed in the distance.

“We’re going to get soaked in about thirty seconds,” he said.

She glared at him. “I mean it. What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you.”

“So why don’t you want to have—”

For a second he thought she was actually going to say “sex” but at the last minute she pressed her lips together and stared meaningfully. At least he assumed that’s what she was doing. That and tipping over.

He grabbed her around the waist and hauled her against him.

“Walk,” he commanded.

She started moving.

“Tell me,” she demanded. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Like I said—nothing. It’s not you.” Hell, why not just tell her the truth? “It’s the whole preacher’s daughter thing. No one wants to spit in the eye of God.”

She considered that while they crossed the rest of the bar’s parking lot and stepped onto the motel parking lot.

“What about forbidden flute?”

The flute thing threw him for a second. “Do you mean ‘fruit’?”

She nodded vigorously and nearly collapsed. “My head is spinning,” she said, sounding as thrilled as a kid at a carnival. “The sky’s spinning, too.”

“Great.”

“I can be fruit,” she insisted.

“If that’s what you want.”

“Don’t you think of me that way? Aren’t I a temptation?”

He was impressed she could manage a three-syllable word. Unfortunately, while her verbal skills remained intact, her motor skills were fading fast. He had to support more and more of her weight to keep them moving toward the motel.

“Room number,” he said.

“Look at what happened with Eve and the apple. That could be me. I could be an apple.”

“I’ll bet you could even be a plum. Keep moving.”

“Plum? Who wants to be that?”

They had reached the building. Kevin paused to lean against a column supporting the overhead walkway around the second story.

“I need your key,” he said. “I’m going to take it out of your purse.”

She smiled brightly. “Okay.”

He opened the clasp and dug around until he came up with a key attached to a plastic pink flamingo. The number three had been painted on the flamingo’s wing.

At least they weren’t going to have to negotiate the stairs.

She shifted her weight just as he closed her purse. The action caused her to slide against him, which pressed her right breast into his side. Instinctively he wrapped both his arms around her to hold her upright. She turned until they were facing each other. Pressed together. Close. Too close.

Her slightly unfocused eyes half closed. “You’re very strong,” she murmured.

“Don’t even go there,” he told her, trying to figure out where he was going to find room number three.

“Strong and sexy.”

Before he could stop her, she reached up and pulled off his cap and stuck it on her own head. Of course she looked completely adorable.

“I’ve never thought about a man being strong before,” she continued with a sigh. “It’s nice. As for the sexy part.” She covered her mouth with her fingers. “I’ve never thought about a man that way before, either.”

“All right, Haley. Let’s go.”

He got them moving toward the row of doors, each labeled with a number. There were seven on each floor.

“Do you think I’m sexy?” she asked.

They passed seven. He didn’t answer.

“Kevin?”

Six. Just three more doors and then they were home.

“Can I at least be an apple?”

Bingo. He stuck the key in the door and pushed it open.

“In we go,” he said, helping her over the threshold.

“Not even an apple,” she murmured, sounding tragically sad.

He told himself that speaking the truth would only get them both in trouble. In her current state there was no telling what she would do if she figured out that she was exactly like forbidden fruit and he was a man who had been starving for years.

He followed her into the room, which was typical for a cheap roadside motel. Full-size bed, small dresser, a couple of chairs and a door leading to a white-on-white bathroom. It looked clean enough, he supposed, a little surprised to find himself wanting Haley to have something nicer than this. What did he care where she stayed? As long as it wasn’t with him.

He pulled the key out of the lock and closed the door. Haley continued to hold on to him. He moved them both toward the bed so that when she finally did let go, she wouldn’t have very far to fall.

Speaking of which, once he really noticed the bed—wide, covered with a blue spread and very empty—he found it hard to notice anything else.

Sexy, willing women and beds just seemed made for each other.

He had to admit he liked the feel of her pressing against him. She was warm and seemed designed to fit him. He allowed himself a brief but meaningful fantasy, then put it firmly out of his mind. For one thing, he didn’t take advantage of anyone, ever. For another, his track record wasn’t exactly the greatest.

He dropped the key onto the small table between the chairs and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Why don’t you sit down?” he suggested. “The bed is right behind you. If you’re still, the room will stop spinning.”

She smiled. “I like it spinning.” She blinked and when she opened her eyes, her gaze lasered in on his mouth.

“Do you know that I’ve only ever been kissed by three men. Well, only one man, really. The other two were boys in high school.” She frowned. “Or were they young men? When do boys become men?”

When they finally make it with a woman, he thought but didn’t say. “Haley, you need to sit down.”

Her gaze didn’t waiver. “If I was fruit, you’d kiss me.”

It scared him that her comment almost made sense.

“In college I didn’t date much,” she continued, swaying slightly so that he was forced to release her shoulders and grab her around the waist to keep her from falling. “There weren’t that many boys around and the ones who were never seemed to notice me.”

Then they were idiots, he thought. “Haley—”

She interrupted with a soft sigh. “I like how you say my name.”

He swore silently. They were standing too close for comfort, at least for him.

“Maybe I was too good.”

He stared at her, taking a second to put the statement into a logical framework. “At college?” he asked.

She nodded vigorously, then blinked several times. “I never did anything wrong.”

“I’ll bet.”

“I don’t mind doing it now.” She tilted her head. “Something wrong, I mean.”

“Oh, I got that.” He reached up and pulled her arms from around his neck. “Sit,” he said firmly.

She sat.

Her eyes widened when she hit the bed. She was eye level with his waist, which he could handle, and she seemed delighted, which he could not.

She laughed. “Okay.”

Okay? Okay, what? Then he decided he didn’t want to know.

Kevin pulled out one of the straight-back chairs and set it in front of her. He sat and wondered if he had a prayer of reasoning with her while she was this drunk. Regardless, he had to try.

“Haley, I need you to listen to me.”

“I like listening to you talk.”

“Great. But pay attention to the words, too.”

She sighed and nodded.

He had a bad feeling he was screaming into the wind. “You can’t go around trusting people. You’re drunk and vulnerable right now. That’s dangerous. You can’t let strange men into your motel room.”

Dammit all to hell if she didn’t laugh at him. “I trust you,” she said.

“You shouldn’t.”

“Yes, I should. You’re a nice man.”

Nice? Perfect. Just perfect.

“Fine. I’m nice. But the next guy won’t be.”

“I don’t want the next guy. You’re my best shot at being bad.”

“What?”

She shrugged and nearly toppled onto her back. He shot out a hand to steady her.

“You’re nice but you’re bad, too.” She lowered her voice. “I can tell. I want to be bad.” She leaned in close to him. “Don’t you want to help me?”

What he wanted was to know what he’d done to deserve this.

She shifted on the bed, suddenly moving closer. Too close. Her gaze settled on his mouth again.

“Don’t you want to kiss me?” she asked, sounding mournful. “I’d like you to, but I don’t know if I’m very good at it. I’ve always wondered. But how do you ask? I mean, is anyone going to tell the truth? Would you tell me?”

He had no idea what they were talking about. Despite the ugly dress and her crazy, trusting personality and the fact that if he even thought about touching her he would be zapped by lightning, he suddenly wanted to kiss her.

He wanted to know what she would taste like and how she would respond. He wanted—

She suddenly turned from him. Her legs bumped against his as she struggled to get away. He stood, pushing the chair back, and she bolted for the bathroom. The door slammed behind her, the toilet seat went up with a clatter and two seconds later came the sounds of her being violently sick.

Kevin winced in sympathy. He was guessing this was the first time she’d been drunk, so it was probably the first time she’d been sick with alcohol. Not a fun way to end the day.

He glanced at the door, then hesitated as the need to do the right thing warred with his desire to bolt for freedom.

He compromised by deciding to stay until he knew that she was all right. At least he no longer had to worry about his virtue. There was nothing like barfing one’s guts out to break the romantic mood.



Twenty minutes later it was all over but the moaning. Kevin walked to the bathroom door and knocked softly.

“Tell me you’re still alive,” he said.

A groan came in response.

He pushed the door open and found Haley curled up on the bathroom floor. Her eyes were closed, her skin the color of fog. The soft strands of blond hair now lay plastered against her forehead.

“I’m dying,” she gasped.

“It only feels that way.”

She shook her head, then groaned again.

“Come on,” he said, crouching next to her. “Get up and take a shower. You’ll feel better.”

She opened one eye. “I’m never going to feel better.”

“Hot water works wonders.”

Her eyelids fluttered shut.

“Come on, little one,” he said, slipping his arm around her and pulling her into a sitting position.

She kept her eyes closed until she was upright, then opened them slowly.

“Is the world still spinning?” he asked.

“A little. It’s not as fun as it was before.”

“I’ll bet.” He shifted so he could unbuckle her ugly shoes. “You’re probably done throwing up.”

“So now I can pass away in peace?”

“Not on my watch.” He pulled her up until she was sitting on the edge of the tub. “How about a change of clothes for after your shower? Do you have a robe or something?”

“I have a nightgown in the top drawer.”

“Stay here. I’ll go get it.”

Kevin walked into the bedroom. He wasn’t sure what he expected when he slid open the drawer, but any visions of lace and satin were quickly squelched when he saw the high-necked, long-sleeved, cotton granny gown.

He returned to find her sitting right where he’d left her.

“Can you stand?” he asked.

“Why would I want to?” He chuckled.

She glared. “You should have a little more respect for the dying.”

“Death is a long way off, Haley. You only wish it wasn’t.”

He pulled her to her feet. She swayed a little. He shifted so she had a clear line to the toilet, but she didn’t bolt, so he figured they were both safe.

After pulling the plastic curtain halfway closed, he turned on the water until it was steaming hot, then adjusted the temperature to just below scalding and pulled the knob to start the spray.

He stepped back. Haley didn’t budge. He gave her a little push toward the water.

“You can get in dressed or undressed,” he said. “Your choice.”

One hand fluttered behind her before falling back to her side. He sighed heavily, then pulled down the zipper of her dress. As he did so, he was careful not to look at anything more interesting than the sink he could see over her shoulder. He stepped back and headed for the door.

“Holler if you need anything.”

“Okay.”

He heard her dress hit the floor. His imagination supplied a perfect picture of everything he hadn’t seen. He had a feeling the real thing would be even better. “Kevin?”

He made the mistake of turning around before he realized the potential for disaster. Haley stood facing him, now clutching her dress to herself, but behind her was the small mirror. It reflected a slender back, narrow waist and gentle curving hips. Cream-colored perfection.

He made himself look only at her eyes. “What?”

She swallowed. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

He retreated to the bedroom where he was tortured by the sounds of her in the shower. Reminding himself that she had just been sick, and probably felt less appealing than a fur ball, didn’t help.

He paced restlessly for ten minutes, then forced himself to sit on the edge of the bed and click channels until he found the ball game. It was tied in the eighth inning and damned if he didn’t care at all.

The shower finally went off. There were more sounds he couldn’t identify, then the bathroom door opened.

Haley stood dwarfed by her cotton nightgown. The fabric hung to the floor and concealed every single curve and womanly feature. She was pale, but she no longer looked quite so desperate. Her wet hair stood up in spikes. She’d said she was twenty-five, but right now she could pass for twelve.

“I still feel pretty awful,” she said.

“That’ll teach you to suck down margaritas at the speed of sound. The good news is you got most of the alcohol out of your system tonight. You’ll be fine in the morning.”

“I hope you’re right.”

He stood and pulled back the covers. She slid into bed, sitting up against the pillows instead of lying down.

“You need plenty of water,” he told her, filling a glass from a bottle she had on the small table. “You want to stay hydrated.”

She nodded as he put the glass on the nightstand. “Are you leaving?”

Her eyes seemed bigger than before. Her mouth trembled slightly and her voice shook as she spoke. She looked like a drowned kitten.

Good sense insisted that he head out now that he knew she was all right. There was no point in staying. In the morning she could get back to whatever it was she’d been doing, and he would catch a flight back to D.C. where he was expected for a two o’clock meeting.

He stared at her, then the door. Her fingers twisted the sheet. “I’ll be fine,” she whispered. “You’ve been really nice and I don’t want to take advantage of that.”

He called himself eight different names, none of them fit for her ears, kicked off his shoes and sat on the bed.

“I’ll stay for a little while,” he said, shifting close and putting an arm around her.

She snuggled against him, resting her head on his chest where her damp hair quickly soaked his shirt. Oddly, he didn’t mind.

He told himself looking after her was like caring for a child. Except she didn’t feel very childlike in his arms. Nor was his reaction to her even close to paternal.

“You know all about me,” she said after a few minutes. “What about you? Where are you from?”

“A place you’ve never heard of. Possum Landing, Texas.”

She glanced up and smiled. “Possum Landing?”

He nodded. “Lived there all my life. My brother and I were born in the Dallas area.”

“You have a brother?”

“Fraternal twin. Nash works for the FBI.”

She sighed. “I always wanted a sister, although a brother would have been nice. Sometimes it got quiet, what with there only being me.”

“Your father never remarried?”

“No. He and my mom were really in love. He used to tell me that no one could ever take her place. When I was little I thought that was really romantic, but as I got older, I thought it sounded lonely.”

Kevin agreed. His mother and stepfather had a good, strong marriage, but if something happened to one of them, he would hate to think the other was destined to a solitary life. Not that he was in a position to talk. After all, he’d managed to avoid matrimonial bliss for all of his thirty-one years.

“You’re a pretty young woman,” he said. “How come you’ve only kissed three guys?”

She raised her head and looked at him. “You think I’m pretty?”

“Fishing for compliments?”

She smiled. “If you knew how seldom they came along, you wouldn’t be asking the question.”

He didn’t like the sound of that. Why weren’t people complimenting her? Then he remembered the ugly dress and even worse-looking shoes. Maybe it wasn’t such a stretch to think she’d been overlooked.

“Yes, I think you’re pretty,” he said. “Tell me about dating.”

“You mean, not dating.” She dropped her head back onto his shoulder. “I can’t really explain it. Some of the reason I never went out much was because I was busy with school activities and different things at church. Some of it was my dad. He used to lecture me on the importance of setting an example and doing the right thing. Plus everywhere I went in town, I knew people. They reported back any hint of unacceptable behavior.”

She shifted slightly, as if getting more comfortable. The covers slipped, and instead of touching layers of sheet and blanket, he suddenly found his hand resting on her hip. Only the voluminous cotton nightgown kept his fingers from touching bare skin.

He could feel the heat of her body and the arc of the curve. Ugly clothes or not, she was a woman, down to her toes. An attractive woman who, for reasons he couldn’t explain, appealed to him.

Touching her hip made him think about touching other parts of her body…such as her breasts. Need flared inside, bringing his own male heat to life.

Down boy, he told himself. Not this night, not with this woman. Still, a man could dream.

“Sometimes it seemed easier not to go out,” she continued, apparently unaware of the change in circumstances. “Not that there are all that many guys beating down my front door.” She glanced up at him again. “I’m sure you dated a lot.”

“Some.”

Color flared on her cheeks. “You’ve probably even…you know.”

Uh-oh. He deliberately moved his hand away from her body and rested it on the mattress.

She cleared her throat. “You’ve probably been with a woman before.”

He stared at her. “Are you talking about sex?”

She blushed fiercely and nodded.

Hell. Why were they talking about this? “I’ve had my way with a woman or two,” he said.

“What’s it like?”

Now it was his turn to groan. “We are not having this conversation.”

“I know it’s not appropriate, but just once I would like someone to give me some details.”

She wouldn’t be getting them from him, that’s for sure.

Haley sat up and looked at him. “You’ve been really nice, but I’m feeling much better after the shower.” She yawned. “I guess I’m tired. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“I know.” He thought about leaving and realized he wasn’t all that much in a hurry to go. “I’ll head out in a little while.”

She smiled at him, then. A warm, welcoming smile that stirred something in his chest. Something he hadn’t felt before. Then she picked up the remote on the nightstand before settling back against him.

“Do you know they have cable here? We never had cable. There’s lots of really cool channels. Even one of those shopping shows.”

“Great,” he muttered. “Maybe we could finish watching the ball game instead.”

“Wouldn’t you rather shop?”

“Not really.”

She laughed. “Okay. Baseball, then shopping. How’s that?”

“Sounds good.”



Kevin didn’t remember falling asleep, but suddenly he came awake. Several bits of information flashed into his brain at once. First, he was in a strange bed, on top of the covers. He knew the woman in his arms, but not how she got there. Second, a man on television was holding up what looked like a pair of diamond earrings and listing all sorts of reasons one should purchase them. Third, his cell was going off.

He flipped on the lamp on the nightstand and pulled the phone from its spot on his belt. The emergency message chased the last clouds of sleep from his brain.

He listened to the information, swore, then hung up. Haley had stirred enough to ask what was going on.

“I have to go,” he said as he pulled on his shoes. “There’s a riot at the prison. I need to get there now.”

Haley’s blond hair had dried in spikes that stuck up all over her head. She blinked sleepily.

“A riot?”

“Yup.”

Which was exactly how his day had been going. He paused and bent long enough to scribble a number on the pad by the phone.

“This is my cell number,” he said as he straightened. “Leave me a message in the morning to let me know you’re okay. Agreed?”

She sat up and nodded. Her big eyes studied him. “I didn’t thank you for everything.”

“Thank me on the phone. I gotta run.”

Kevin was out the door before Haley could think of anything else to say. She clicked off the television, then slid over to turn out the light. His side of the bed was warm. She curled up in the dark and thought about all that had happened in the past few hours. She smiled as she realized she’d finally slept with a man. All things considered, the experience had been pretty wonderful.




Chapter Three


Haley woke with the sensation that she was late. Before her eyes had focused she was trying to figure out if it was choir practice or her morning to visit the shut-ins or—

Then she blinked and realized she didn’t recognize her bedroom.

In the split second it took to view the unfamiliar dresser, the window in the wrong place and the television, the events of the previous evening flashed through her mind like a silent music video. The montage included her entrance into the bar down the street, those scary men who had tried to get her to sit with them, and her rescue by Kevin Harmon. From there she recalled the margaritas, her reaction to the drinks and—

Here the memories got a little fuzzy. Or maybe it was just that she didn’t want to remember, because honestly, it was too embarrassing to think that she’d actually thrown herself at a man. Worse, he’d turned her down.

Haley groaned and buried her face in her pillow. The exact sequence of events wasn’t clear, but she definitely recalled something about wanting to be forbidden fruit, then having to throw up. They hardly combined to make a good first impression. And through it all, Kevin had been perfect.

She sat up suddenly and brushed her too short bangs off her forehead, then stood cautiously and waited to see what her stomach was going to do. But except for an icky taste in her mouth, she felt fine. Certainly a whole lot better than she’d felt the previous night. Lying on that bathroom floor had been the closest she’d ever come to wishing for death. At least for herself.

Okay, she thought as she crossed to the bathroom, last night had been both good and bad. The good had been meeting Kevin. He’d taken care of her, treated her wonderfully, had brought her back here and stayed to make sure she was going to survive. More than that, he’d spent the night with her.

She smiled at the memory of falling asleep in his arms. Romantic things like that didn’t happen to women like her.

She’d also found a drink she liked—although maybe two doubles were more than she could handle—and she’d actually spent time in a bar. If she kept this up, eventually she would be worldly.

Haley paused in front of the bathroom sink to pin back her hair, only to remember that she’d cut it all off on her way out of Ohio. She used a headband from her small cosmetics bag to hold her bangs off her face, then turned on the water.

The bad things about last night had been getting sick and throwing herself at a man who obviously didn’t find her attractive. As she splashed water on her face, she tried to figure out if she could have said or done something to make herself more appealing to Kevin. Was it something specifically about her, or was she not his type? Not that she knew what being someone’s type meant. She didn’t have a type that she knew of, except for “not Allan.”

She straightened and pulled the hand towel from the rack. Kevin had been nice and had stayed until he’d gotten called away. So he couldn’t have disliked her too much.

“There is no way you’re going to figure this out,” Haley told herself as she started the shower, then stripped off her nightgown. “The inner workings of the male mind are a complete mystery.”

That decided, she stepped into the warm spray and contented herself with the memory of him holding her close as they stretched out together on the bed.

Thirty minutes later Haley was dressed, packed and eating a breakfast consisting of coffee made in the in-room pot and a granola bar she’d brought with her. She would have liked something more substantial, but she hadn’t seen any fast-food places on her way into town and she hadn’t worked up the nerve to eat alone in a regular restaurant. Plus, she wasn’t sure how her stomach was going to react to a big meal just yet. Maybe it would be better to take things slow.

She sat on the bed and peeled back the wrapping on her breakfast, all the while staring at the phone number written on the small pad. Kevin’s cell number. Before he’d left he’d asked her to phone to let him know she was all right. Part of her wanted to hear his voice again, but part of her was still pretty embarrassed by everything that had happened. He’d done more than enough. She shouldn’t bother the poor man.

Indecision made her shift on the bed. As she nibbled on the bar, she reached for the television remote and clicked on the TV to distract herself. A well-dressed, thirty-something woman spoke directly to the camera.

“We’ll go to that footage in a moment. Our live shots confirm what the authorities are telling us. The prison riot seems to have ended.”

Haley stared at the screen. Prison riot? Hadn’t Kevin said something about delivering a prisoner?

“As you can see from this video taken last night, several prisoners started a riot that turned violent. There were over two dozen injuries, including at least three gunshot wounds. One U.S. Marshal was taken to a local hospital at about five this morning.”

As the woman spoke, the camera panned over heavily armed authorities trying to subdue angry prisoners. From there, the shot focused on a man on a stretcher. The camera zoomed in on his face. Haley dropped her granola bar and came as close to swearing as she ever had in her life. Despite the blood on his face and the thick, blood-soaked bandage around his leg, she recognized the man being rushed to the ambulance.

It was Kevin.



Okay, she was an idiot, Haley thought an hour later as she paced in the hospital waiting room. What had she been thinking when she’d decided to check on Kevin at the hospital? Or had she been thinking?

One second she’d been stunned by the live news report and the next she’d been loading up her car and asking the guy at the motel’s front desk how to get to the hospital. Now that she was here, what was she going to do? She didn’t know Kevin. Not really. He was a competent grown-up who didn’t need her checking on him and probably wouldn’t appreciate her visit.

She crossed to the door and nearly left, then turned back and walked the length of the room. Okay, she was here. The nurse said she could see him in a few minutes. She would go into his room, thank him for the previous night and duck out while she still had some small measure of dignity.

“Are you here to see Kevin Harmon?”

Haley turned toward the speaker and saw a nurse standing in the doorway.

“Yes.” Haley approached the woman. “Is he all right?”

“Actually he’s doing surprisingly well, for a man who was shot.” She smiled. “He’s in Room 247. Right down at the end of the hall.”

“Thanks.”

Haley clutched her purse to her stomach and headed down the hall. As she walked, she tried to figure out what exactly she was going to say. After “Hi,” her brain sort of stalled. She supposed she could pretend he was just another sick parishioner. She’d visited hundreds of them over the years.

Yes, that was it. She would think of Kevin as just one more member of her father’s congregation. Not the man who had rescued her and then turned down her offer of carnal knowledge of her person.

The hospital door stood open. Haley knocked softly as she entered. There was only one bed in the room. The man in it turned his head as she entered, giving her a clear view of his face. Her feelings of concern turned to dread as she took in his bruised face and the bandage around his head. Where it wasn’t bruised, his skin was pale in contrast to his thick, dark hair. His eyes were only partially open. One leg was propped up on a pillow and a thick bandage encircled his thigh.

“Kevin?”

He managed a slight smile. “You should see the other guy.”

She bit her lower lip as she approached. “You look really beat up. How do you feel?”

“Like I was shot.”

“I saw you being taken away on television. That’s how I found out what happened.”

“Thanks for visiting.” He motioned to a straight-back chair against the wall. “Take a load off.”

She pulled the chair closer and settled next to him. Without thinking, she took his hand in hers and squeezed. His fingers were warm and strong, and more than a little distracting.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

His mouth curved up again. “Yeah. Don’t talk to me about being fruit.”

She remembered bits and pieces of their conversation of last night, when she’d wanted to be forbidden fruit. Embarrassment flooded her, making her cheeks burn. She quickly dropped his hand and stared at the floor.

“Yes…well, I wasn’t exactly myself.”

“For what it’s worth, I liked whoever you were.”

She raised her head and stared at him. “Really?”

“Absolutely.”

“But I was an idiot.”

“You were charming.”

“I was drunk.”

“A charming drunk.”

Their eyes locked. Despite the bruising and the bandage, Haley found herself getting lost in his gaze. Her insides shivered slightly. Her heart beat faster. A strange, unexpected yearning filled her and while she couldn’t say for what, she ached with need.

The powerful sensation frightened her, so she did her best to ignore it. She forced herself to look away from Kevin’s face. Instead, she focused on the bandage around his head.

“Was the riot the reason you were called away last night?” she asked.

“Yeah. They knew I was still in the area. All available personnel were summoned. By the time I got there, the riot had already turned dangerous.”

“What started it?”

“It seems the prisoner I delivered yesterday had a lot of enemies in residence. A few of them got together and tried to kill him. They jumped a guard and took his gun.” He touched his injured leg. “I got caught in the cross fire. Just dumb luck.”

Haley didn’t know what to say. Kevin spoke matter-of-factly, as if this sort of thing happened every day. “Have you ever been shot before?” she asked.

“Nope. And let me tell you, it hurts like a sonofa—” He caught himself and grinned. “It hurts a lot.”

“You can swear. I don’t mind. In fact, I plan on learning to swear.”

“You’re kidding.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to do it a lot and there are some words I’m not interested in using. Once I learn to do it, then I can figure out if I like it or not. I was thinking of mostly the D-word or the H-word.”

Kevin closed his eyes. “I’ve never heard anyone call it ‘the D-word’ before.”

“I can’t actually say it here.”

He opened one eye. “In my room?”

“I’m in a hospital.”

“That’s not exactly like being in church.”

“I know, but serious things happen here. Sometimes people die.”

He opened his other eye. “You can’t swear where people are dying?”

“No. Death is a sacred experience.”

He rubbed his forehead. “You’re from another planet, aren’t you?”

“Sometimes it feels like I am,” she admitted, thinking how different her world was from his. “I did very well in my classes at college, but none of them prepared me for this sort of thing.”

“Are we talking about swearing or prison riots.”

“Both.”

“Uh-huh.” He closed his eyes again.

She took the opportunity to study him. Even with his injuries, he was a tough-looking man. She supposed he should have frightened her, but he didn’t. She knew that underneath the power and muscles beat a good and noble heart. He wasn’t the kind of man to take advantage of a defenseless woman. Which was just her bad luck.

“How long will they keep you in the hospital?” she asked.

“Overnight. They want to make sure my head injury isn’t serious. Somebody nailed me with a metal chair. I ducked, but not fast enough.” He fingered the bandage. “There’s some bruising around my inner ear, so I’m a little wobbly.”

After last night, she knew the feeling.

“What about your leg?”

“It was a clean shot. Through the meat. It’ll need regular changing, but it’s just a matter of letting it heal.”

He’d spoken without opening his eyes. Haley had the feeling that he was getting tired. She knew she should go and let him rest, but first she had to thank him for all that he’d done for her. And apologize.

“Kevin, I—”

A faint ringing interrupted her. He opened his eyes.

“Dammit, that’s my cell phone,” he mumbled, turning his head toward the sound. “It’s in my jacket pocket. Probably in the closet. Would you get it?”

“Sure.”

She rose and crossed to the small closet. As she opened the door, the ringing got louder. She pulled the phone out of his chest pocket and carried it to him. Kevin pushed a button.

“Harmon,” he said, his voice brisk and all business.

A little shiver went through her. He was competent, she thought. So in charge. Not like any man she’d ever met, certainly nothing like Allan.

She crossed to the window and tried not to listen, but when he chuckled and said, “Hi, Mom,” she couldn’t help tuning in to the conversation.

She wouldn’t have thought of him as someone with a mother. Not that she’d assumed he’d hatched from under a rock or anything, but for him to have a family meant he was just like everyone else. But now that she thought about it, she remembered him mentioning a brother. That part of last night was still a little blurry.

“Nothing much,” he said, his words filled with warmth and affection.

Haley recognized the emotions and they warmed her. She liked that Kevin cared about his mother. Some people didn’t get along with their folks. She’d never understood that. Didn’t parents always do their best?

Her own father sometimes made her crazy, but she knew every action was motivated by love. Her need to get away wasn’t about her father—at least not completely. There was also Allan, and her need to grow up and be independent.

“No, I’m okay,” Kevin was saying. “What? I’m in the hospital. I was shot.”

Haley couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder at him. He held the phone away from his ear and gave her an “aren’t parents a pain, even though we love them” look that made her feel as though she was part of the in crowd.

The momentary connection lightened her spirits. She’d never felt it with a man before. She’d thought that sort of thing only happened with girlfriends. It had certainly never happened with Allan, but a lot of things hadn’t happened with him.

“No, you don’t have to come get me,” Kevin said. “I’ll be fine. Yes, I’ll be home in a couple of days. You’re sure it’s not an emergency, Mom? Promise?”

He listened for a couple of minutes, then sighed. “Mom, you don’t have to worry. No, they don’t think I’ll have a limp, but I’ll have a scar and you know how chicks go for scars.”

Haley turned her attention back to the window and tried not to think about the scar on Kevin’s leg. Would she find it attractive? She was female, but she’d never thought of herself as a chick.

“Okay. I’ll keep you informed. I love you, too. Bye, Mom.”

She heard a high-pitched beep as he disconnected the call.

“How did she take it?” she asked, turning back to face him.

“Not bad, considering. She’s distracted. Apparently a family situation has come up in the past couple of days.”

“What does that mean?”

“Hell if I know. She says it’s not an emergency, but she also told me we have to talk. What is it about women and conversation?”

Haley was momentarily distracted by his easy use of the H-word. It took her a second to respond to his question.

“Men have conversations, too.”

“Maybe, but we never start them with the words ‘we have to talk.’” He shuddered. “Four of the most frightening words in the English language.”

She laughed. “Why?”

“Because they usually mean the guy has screwed up somewhere. He’s in big trouble and she’s about to tell him everything he’s going to have to do to make it right. Who wants to hear that?”

“I see your point,” she said, which reminded her of her own. She crossed to the bed.

“I don’t want to stay too long. I know you need your rest. But I did want to thank you for last night.”

He brushed aside her comment with a wave of his hand. “No big deal.”

“It was to me. You were very considerate and I appreciate that.” She clutched her purse tightly in both hands. “I’d never been drunk before.”

“No kidding.”

She shifted her weight from foot to foot. “I didn’t really mean for that to happen.”

“I don’t buy that for a second, Haley. You were ordering margaritas, so you meant for something to happen.”

“I guess you’re right.” She circled the bed and sank down into the chair. “Life is very confusing right now. I have a lot of decisions to make about my life. I thought the drive would give me time to think things through.”

“Long drives always work for me.” He smiled at her. “It’s only been a couple of days. Give yourself a break. You’ll get it figured out.”

His faith in her made her smile. “Thanks. What about you? What are you going to do?”

“First, take advantage of the very generous hospitality here. I’m off duty until I’m cleared by the doctor. It could be three or four weeks.”

“Will you go home?”

“As soon as I can.”

“Do you want me to take you to the airport?”

He shook his head, then winced and touched the bandage. “You don’t have to stick around for me. Besides, I’m not flying home.”

“Why not?”

He pointed to his bandaged ear. “Until the swelling goes down, I’m not allowed in the air. Something about pressure and elevation.”

She glanced at his injured leg. “So how will you get there?”

“Drive.”

“How?”

“I’ll wait until I’m well enough.”

Haley didn’t know that much about gunshot wounds, but she didn’t think they healed all that quickly. Not when the bullet had gone all the way through his leg.

A thought occurred to her. It wasn’t as if she had an appointment or anything. Driving was driving. So what if she got to California a few days late? She could offer to take him home.

She glanced at him, then away. Maybe that wasn’t a good idea. Kevin had been really nice and everything, but he obviously didn’t find her attractive. Would he want to spend that much time in her company? Still, she owed him. She should at least offer. It was the right thing to do.

What she refused to acknowledge, even to herself, was the sense that she didn’t want to say goodbye. There was something about being around him that made her feel good about herself.

“I’ve taken several first-aid classes,” she said cautiously. “We offer them at the church and in the past couple of years, I’ve been teaching them. So I have some basic first-aid knowledge.”

He watched her without speaking. Haley cleared her throat.

“My point is, I could probably change your bandage.”

“Thanks, but if I can’t do it myself, I’ll just make my way to the hospital.”

“I didn’t mean I would stay here. I was offering to drive you home.”

It seemed that he was still inviting trouble into his life, Kevin thought as Haley spoke. She detailed all the reasons it made sense for her to help him, concluding with, “I owe you for last night. For not, um, well, taking advantage of me.”

The last couple of words came out as a mumble. She ducked her head and he could barely make out what she was saying. Still, it was enough for him to remember helping her back to her room. Even drunk and practically incoherent, she’d been appealing. Too appealing.

There was no way he could spend that much time with her. Shot or not, even with his head pounding, even with her in another hideous floral-print dress that looked more like a tent than a fashion statement, he wanted her. Yup, right here under the scratchy sheet, with the painkiller coursing through his veins, his groin throbbed with an ache that had nothing to do with recent injuries.

Spending time with Haley, even the day or two it would take to get to Possum Landing, would be a level of torture he didn’t deserve.

She was too sweet, too innocent, too…everything. She deserved way more than the likes of him.

“I don’t want to hold you up,” he said, trying to sound gentle instead of horny. “Don’t you have an island to drive to?”

She smiled slightly. “I already told you, I know I can’t drive to Hawaii.”

She looked at him. Despite being a grown woman, she obviously didn’t know how to conceal what she was thinking. He could see every thought flashing through her big eyes. Hope, fear, excitement. He made her nervous, but he could see she still wanted him to say yes. For reasons that weren’t clear to him, she wanted to spend time in his company.

Why? Did she see him as some knight who had come to her rescue?

“I’m not one of the good guys,” he told her, angry at her for thinking the best of him and angry at himself for caring.

She frowned. “Of course you are. You’re a U.S. Marshal. And last night—”

“Just forget about that. It doesn’t count.”

“It does to me.”

Trouble, he thought again. She was trouble, he was in trouble and damn if it wasn’t going to get worse.

He shouldn’t say yes, but he couldn’t say no. Somehow he’d been trapped.

Last night, she’d wanted him to kiss her. If she hadn’t been drunk, he would have obliged. Then what would have happened? Stupid question. He already knew the answer.

If he wasn’t strong enough to turn down her offer to drive him home, how was he going to resist anything else she might choose to throw his way?

“Be careful what you wish for,” he told her. “You just might get it. And then where will you be?”

Haley blinked at him. “Was that a yes?”

He was slime. Actually, he was the single-celled creatures that aspired to be slime. He was going to hell for sure.

“Yes.”




Chapter Four


The next day, despite several protests and some muttered grumbling, Kevin found himself being wheeled out of the hospital. The practice of forcing patients to leave via wheelchair didn’t make sense to him. The second he was gone, he would be on his own and expected to walk, so why not now?

The drill-sergeant-looking nurse hadn’t been impressed by his argument.

But his mild humiliation and annoyance were instantly forgotten when he was wheeled out in front of the main building and saw Haley waiting for him. Sure he noticed her—she had on yet another of her incredibly ugly shapeless dresses that fell nearly to her ankles and covered her arms down to the elbow. Somewhere underneath the faded-purple, floral-print fabric was a great body, not that anyone could tell by looking. Yet it wasn’t Haley that captured his attention. Instead, it was her car.

He was a typical guy with some interest in cars. Faster was always better than slower. Sleek was a nice bonus. Haley was a conservative young woman from a small town. He would have guessed she drove a sensible sedan of some kind. Nothing flashy. Nothing outrageous. He could never have put her with the massive pale yellow Cadillac convertible she stood next to.

It had stopped raining at some point between his being shot and now, which was a good thing because the top was down.

He shook his head to clear his vision—obviously this was an illusion—then wished he hadn’t when pain exploded behind his eyes. When he could speak without wincing, he squinted slightly and told her, “This can’t be your car.”

She beamed. Really. It was like looking into the sun. “Isn’t it fabulous? Don’t you love it?” She opened the passenger door and stroked the buff-colored leather. Not exactly a practical color.

“I traded my car in for this. There’s no way you would have fit in my old car. Not with your leg and all. I saw this on the lot and fell in love. I’ve never felt this way about a car before. It’s spectacular.”

He wasn’t sure if she meant the vehicle or her feelings for it, then he decided he didn’t want to know. “How much did you pay?”

“Oh, I got a great deal.”

“Uh-huh.” Somehow he wasn’t convinced.

The nurse helped him to his feet. He shifted his weight, took a single step and slid onto the smooth leather. He had to admit it was certainly big enough. With the passenger seat all the way back, he could stretch out his injured leg and still have room to spare.

“Thanks,” Haley said to the nurse, then took the paper sack holding Kevin’s belongings from her and tossed it into the back seat. She shut his door and walked around to the driver’s side.

“This is going to be so great,” she said when she’d settled into her seat. “I stopped and got maps. I have our route all figured out. It took me a while to find Possum Landing, but then I did. A mechanic checked out the car for me and swears it won’t be any trouble at all.”

Kevin squinted against the sun and wished he had his sunglasses, or at least a hat to protect him from the glare. The late morning was warm. At least the heat felt good.

“You don’t even know where we are. How did you find a mechanic?”

“I called a local church and asked the minister’s secretary to recommend one. When I explained the problem, she said her brother was a mechanic and that he would be happy to help. He even came with me to the dealer.”

Smart move, he conceded. Maybe she hadn’t been robbed. “You’ve had a busy morning.”

“I had fun.” She started the engine. “We need to go by your motel and get your things. I’m all checked out and packed. Then we can head out. I figure it will take us four days to get to Possum Landing.”

Kevin leaned his aching head against the headrest and closed his eyes. Three seconds later they popped open. “Four days? It can’t be more than six or seven hundred miles.” They could practically do that in a day.

“I know.” Haley put the car in drive and headed out of the parking lot. “I like to go about two hundred miles a day. There are so many wonderful things to see.”

He closed his eyes again. “Like what?” he asked, already sure he didn’t want to know.

“Little out-of-the-way towns, museums, antique shops. I’ve had the best time exploring the country since I left Ohio. You meet the most interesting people.”

How could he argue with that? He’d met her.

“Four days, huh?”

“It will be fun,” she promised.

Maybe. Maybe not. He figured he could have stayed put, healed in a motel and been able to drive home in about the same amount of time it was going to take Haley to deliver him.

“Oh.” She glanced at him, her smile fading. “I forgot. You need to get home quickly. You have that family thing going on.”

She was wearing sunglasses, but he could imagine the light fading from her eyes. He remembered his mother’s promise that everything was fine and what she had to discuss with him wouldn’t go anywhere. She’d said it wasn’t about anyone being sick or dying. As she’d never lied to him in the past, he had no reason to doubt her now.

“It’s not an emergency,” he said before he could stop himself. “We don’t have to rush.”

“Really?”

The smile returned and when it did, something inside him sparked to life. He didn’t want to know what it was, or what it all meant. Just his luck, he was going to be trapped in a car with Haley for several days. While his injuries distracted him now, what would happen when he started to heal and found himself wanting her? Did he have enough self-control to do the right thing?




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