StrongArmsoftheLaw Read Free

hole in your heart.”
    “Not true.”
    “Rex,” she said with the barest of sounds, her eyes defining
his body, “a man like you? You cannot tell me you have no woman who keeps your
bed warm.”
    “No one I see regularly.” No one I crave.
    “Has any woman ever made you need her?”
    Not like you do. He raised his chin toward her
bedroom. “Go put some clothes on and come back out here. Time for coffee and
breakfast.”
    “And then what?” She tapped her foot at him.
    “What we always do.”
    She harrumphed. “You read and whittle. While I write.”
    “It works.”
    “Does it?” She strode toward him, her hands splaying on his
chest, stroking him beneath the chambray of his shirt, skimming his nipples and
driving him nuts.
    He retreated. “Yeah, it—”
    “You could let me on the internet.” She followed him.
    “No.”
    “Not to do email. Just let me surf.”
    “No.”
    “Let me ride into town with you.”
    “No.”
    “Buy two big juicy steaks and a bottle of cabernet.”
    “No drinking.”
    “No fun.”
    “No foolin’!”
    She smirked. “You could be fun.” She reached up and
brushed her mouth on his.
    At this point, backed against the wall, what else was he
supposed to do but put his hands in that river of champagne hair and bring her
close? “I am fun. A regular guy. When I am not tormented by a chica with
bad intentions.”
    “I’m not bad, Rex,” she whispered, brushing her lips over
his. “But I want to be. With you.”
    He breathed like a bull through his nose. “No.” He pushed
her away from him and walked out the door. On the bottom step of the porch, a
tiny breeze did nothing to cool him off. He hooked his thumbs in his belt and
squeezed shut his eyes.
    Images of her danced in his mind. The first time he’d seen
her in Austin in the Ranger headquarters. On the run from a Gonzaga who had
held a knife to her eyes. Scared, pale, no makeup on that perfect oval face.
Looking exactly like her name. Like the sky at dawn. The hair that was so
white, the eyes so deep purple, the skin utterly flawless. She looked like an
Anglo doll his sister had wanted one year for Christmas. But he soon saw that
Skye Chamberlain was no doll. Without a prissy bone in her body, the spirited
crime novelist was educated, sharp-witted and funny. She was a pushy broad,
too. Testing his boundaries from the first moment they had arrived here in this
safe house.
    She had wanted to make cell phone calls.
    No.
    Go for walks.
    No.
    Swims.
    No!
    She begged him for movies.
    Yes.
    Fish.
    Sure.
    Chocolate.
    Okay.
    Newspapers and books.
    All right.
    He’d found a way to get them for her, when he could make
arrangements to have another Ranger acquire the goods and meet him a few miles
down the back road. Rex wanted to take no chances with her life. She was his
responsibility.
    She was his job.
    She was his delight. His torment.
    She came to stand behind him now and wrapped her arms around
his shoulders. He could tell by the feel of her supple flesh she had not
followed his orders. She was still naked. “I get it, Rex. I get it.” She kissed
his earlobe. “You don’t want me to think you do this for every woman you
babysit.”
    “I don’t.” God help him, but she felt as warm and welcome as
summer Texas sun. “Bad ethics.”
    “I hear you. What if I told you, I’m as good as you are? I
haven’t been with any man for more than two years.”
    “That could mean a lot of things, Chamberlain.”
    “ Skye .” She ran the tip of her nose along his nape.
“My name is Skye, Rex. And what my failure to have a man means is that I didn’t
see anyone I was interested in. Not that I’m a prude. Or celibate. But you and
I have been walking around each other for two months, honey. The trial is soon
but I can’t wait until afterward. I’m anxious and irritable and needy. Why
should we wait any longer? If I don’t have you, I think I will come without
you. Just to look at you makes me—”
    He turned in her arms