Fated (4 page)

“Will you walk, or do you want to
go over my shoulder again?” His warm breath against her hair stirred other
thoughts, and she gritted her teeth.

“I’ll walk. You can let me go.”

Another huff of his breath, and she
felt his arms release in increments. Holding herself rigid, willing her body’s
response into remembering the boring task of next week’s taking of inventory,
she gained a modicum of control. If she concentrated on unpleasant jobs and
other things, she’d survive whatever he had planned. Because no matter what
Reese Murdoch had done in his years away, no matter what he’d experienced, he
would never hurt a woman, or force one. Candy knew that to the bottom of her
soul.

But she wasn’t as certain of her
will to resist his magnetism or seduction skills he’d have honed over those
years, unless she maintained her emotional distance. Her needy body required a
stern talking to if only her brain would focus.

With his hand on the small of her
back, a light, possessive gesture he didn’t deserve, hadn’t earned, he guided
her up the walk and through the door. He hadn’t turned on the porch light, and
part of her was grateful for the anonymity. Someone might be out and about on
this nice evening, and despite the relative isolation of this place, she didn’t
care for anyone to speculate. Her knees grew weak with a certain relief as she
realized her daddy wouldn’t find out—either about her run-in with law
enforcement, or her current situation with Reese.

She’d never been anywhere else in
the house aside from the living area and the kitchen, not even the bathroom,
but the changes wrought were remarkable. Off white paint hid the dark
wallpaper, and with the new windows and maneuverable blinds, the place would be
full of light in the day, yet private at night. She cast a glance at the window
coverings and verified that privacy. The old stuffed furniture was gone,
replaced by a sleek leather couch and matching chairs with the requisite mega
screen television and accompanying electronics. The wall between the kitchen
and dining area had been removed, and she spied modern cabinetry anchored by
solid surface counter tops. The old wood floor now gleamed dully, obviously
scraped and restored. Despite the style of the furniture, the place felt warm
and welcoming, likely because of the number of family pictures scattered about
and hung on the walls. A crocheted throw in reds was draped casually over one
end of the couch.

“Have a seat, darlin’.”

She slipped off her shoes and
noticed his nod of appreciation, before she crossed to take the chair furthest
from any other seating.
And closest to her purse.
There was no one to call, but having her phone nearby was comforting. The
leather seat felt cool beneath her exposed legs, and she barely avoided
fruitlessly tugging her skirt down. He wasn’t going to make her feel
uncomfortable or vulnerable—or at least no more than she already did. She wanted
to get this over with.

“Want a drink before we get
started?” His silky tone made her inner thighs clench and her thoughts veer
into places she really didn’t want to go. She decided to address it.

“I’m fine. And just what are you
referring to?”

Tossing his hat unerringly at a
hook on the wall, Reese ran his hands through his shock of hair, and she
blinked to tear her eyes away. It looked the way it would feel, soft and sleek
in her hands. The sound of his belt jingling drew her back, and she watched as
he stripped away his gun belt, his revolver held in his opposite hand.

Hanging the leather strap beside
his hat, he made his way to a gun safe, and tucked his weapon inside before
spinning the dial.
“Rules.
Service weapons have to be
secured.”

She wondered if he was warning her
or apologizing. Reese was always careful with guns. He had taken her target
shooting a lifetime ago, and taught her safety. And there were those cursed
memories again of a wonderful, nearly two years of her life. She’d been given a
hopeful taste of the way it could have been, and then he had taken it all away.

“I’d appreciate an explanation.
Of why I’m here.”

He sauntered past her toward the
kitchen, and she focused her eyes on the floor, refusing to take even a glance
at his fine ass. She heard glass tinkling dully, and a fridge door shutting,
and then he was back, a tall bottle of beer in his hand. When he stopped to
take a swig, she couldn’t look away from the figure he cut, head tipped back,
strong throat working against the liquid flowing down it. She had the
ridiculous wish to be the mouth of that bottle, pressed up against his lips,
giving him sustenance.

Lowering the envied beer, he wiped
the back of his hand across his mouth in a purely masculine gesture, and
slouched onto the other chair. He studied her in silence, and with great effort
she didn’t fidget. This was an excellent interrogation technique, but she
refused to be intimidated.

 
“Tell me why you’re avoiding me.
And cutting me dead when you can’t avoid me.”
Delivered with
a decided snap, his comment made her start.

There was no point in denying it.
Oh, she could give it a try and drag things out, but if she accommodated him
maybe she could still make
Sheridan
,
and the evening wouldn’t be a total loss. She did her best to ignore the fact
she was alone in a relatively small room with the man who had once made her
heart swell and her body sing.

“I suppose you could say we’ve both
moved on, and seeing as we have nothing in common I’m not interested in chit-chat.”

Another laugh filled the room, shaking
his shoulders and drawing her attention to their breadth, and her traitorous
eyes took in his wide, muscled chest beneath the closely tailored uniform
shirt, sending another stimulating message to her feminine parts.
Damn
.

“C’mon, darlin’, you can do better
than that.”

“What? I don’t treat you any
differently than any other … acquaintance.”

“Candace, I’m more than an
acquaintance.”

Okay, he was pushing it, putting
her in a position she wasn’t going to be slotted into. “Asked and answered,
Sheriff. I told you.
Moved on.
Nothing
in common.”

“Come here, darlin’.” He pointed to
the floor directly in front of his indolent slouch, and set his beer down.

“I can hear you fine, Sheriff.”

“Right here.”

Silence ensued, and lengthened. Curiosity
prickled at her and undermined her determination not to obey him. Obey.
A curious word, and one that wasn’t in her vocabulary—except in
certain circumstances.
But she really wanted to escape this place, pick
up her car and get to
Sheridan
.
Away from Reece Murdoch who was reminding her of things better left in the past,
and lose herself, forget with some form of entertainment. With a huff, she
shoved up to her feet, and calmed enough to walk gracefully to stand where he
bade her.

The way his features softened with
approval, even as his eyes burned hotter, gave her pause and made her want to
turn on her heel and run. It was awkward, standing in front of this man, so
supremely male, and she fought to stay perfectly still, schooling her emotions.

“On your knees,
darlin.’”

Her belly clenched in response as
he literally spoke to that part of her craving mastery, and she very nearly
acquiesced. But instead she gave him as haughty a stare as she could produce, channeling
the Queen of England.

“Candace, do you really think I
don’t know what you need? That I don’t know? Can’t read you?”

It was like standing on the high
board over the deep end of the pool. The drop drew her just as her mind warned
her not to jump. How in hell would he know what she needed? People changed.
He’d walked out of her life without a backward glance, and she had no idea if
he’d lived or died until he had come back all arrogant and confident to take on
the position of Sheriff. The pain had been banked down, but never forgotten. That
hurt and humiliation, all the terror and loss, rose up and poured forth. It
transformed into pure nastiness as it emerged from her mouth.

“You want a blow job, Sheriff
Murdoch? I believe I can accommodate you. Is this kind of like a bribe—paying a
fine, as it
were
?”

Her strategy worked. He visibly
recoiled, sensuous mouth setting hard, his green eyes narrowing. She had
intuitively known how offended he would be by her reaction. She had counted on
it, and made to go to her knees. He forestalled her with a hand against her
hip—it burned like a brand, and she staggered back.

Rising to his feet, he pushed into
her space, locking his eyes with hers, and against her better judgment she
wished he would kiss her. Take her choice away so she could have him once again
and put the blame on his shoulders.

“Pushed too hard,
too fast, Candace.
That wall you’ve built is taller and thicker than I
realized. What’s made you so hard, darlin’?”

As if he didn’t know. But if he
really didn’t, if he had no idea of what his leaving had done to her, she
wasn’t going to enlighten him. “I’m okay with who I am.”

Studying her for another agonizing
moment in time, he then shrugged and stepped around her to retrieve her
overnight bag. “I’ll show you your room.”

“What?” After she got miles away from
this infuriating man she was going to purge that word from her vocabulary.

“Under arrest,
Candace.
This’ll be better than a holding cell.”

“I’d be out of that cell with one
phone call, Sheriff, and you well know it.” She didn’t know what kind of game
he was playing, but it was spiraling out of her control.

“Well, girl, that might be true,
but I thought I’d spare you dealing with your father.”

God.
He was stooping to blackmail
now. She weighed out the two options, if he was even giving her the choice, and
thought that for her emotional wellbeing it would be worth calling her daddy.
But Reece forestalled her.

“No deal, darlin’. I’m the law
here.” The humor underlying his edict did not sit well, and she railed inwardly,
feeling powerless, seeing her time in
Sheridan
slip away. Because what he’d awoken in her was simmering to a boil, and no way
was she going to let him find out.

With a wistful glance toward the
front door, feet dragging, she trudged after him, into a small room furnished
with a double bed, a single nightstand and a tall chest of drawers. A handmade
ring quilt covered the bed, and the deep colors warmed the room. Reece flicked
on the small lamp on the stand, and gestured to a door on the opposite wall.

“There’s a bathroom there.”

With an exasperated sigh, she said,
“How do you expect to get away with keeping me here against my will?”

“Candace, I impounded your vehicle
because I picked you up for speeding.
For the third time.
You can’t get out of that. But I brought you here so we can talk, uninterrupted,
and honestly. You aren’t interested in complying tonight, so we’ll try again
tomorrow.”

“And when I tell people what you’ve
done?”

He shrugged. “If you do I guess
I’ll deal with it, but I’m betting you won’t.”

He was right. Her daddy would
probably kick his ass, figuratively, and cost him his job, but people would
talk and treat her like—she didn’t want to be that girl again.

“No, darlin’, this isn’t about
creating any issues for you.” He was reading her like an open book. “I’m
thinking we’ll address whatever is holding things up between us and get it
resolved.”

He could fucking
well think again.
“There is
nothing
to resolve. I want my things and a ride to my car.”

Tossing her bag on the bed, he
moved to the door, passing close enough she could feel the heat emanating from
his body.

“I’ll be up for a while if you want
to join me. Talk things out. Sure you don’t want anything?”

“Just what I told you.”

“
G’night
, darlin’.”
The door shut quietly behind him,
and she resisted the urge to throw something at it.

Her first inclination was to change
into the items in her suitcase and climb out the window, walk into town and
retrieve her car. Her purse was in the other room with all her identification
and cards, her phone, but she had a spare key for the Bimmer in the shop, and a
key to the shop hidden in the alley. The plan appealed more and more as she
thought it through, and she hustled over to her case, zipping it open and
fumbling through the contents.

Kicking off her shoes, she shimmied
off her skirt,
then
donned the jeans she retrieved.
The camisole followed, and she reveled in the soothing warmth of the heavier
shirt she drew over her head, despite the lack of a bra. A knock on the door
froze her in place as she reached for her flats, and Reece poked his head in,
eyes lazily sweeping over her altered appearance.

“You leave here and try to hike
downtown, Candace, I’ll fetch you back and turn your sweet ass red.
And not in a good way.”

Electing not to respond, she gave
him her back, and stepped into her shoes. She gathered up the discarded items
and carefully placed them in her case, giving the task far more effort than
required. Foiled, she considered her options. She could try to outwait him, or
have that discussion he was insisting on, and hold the line. Reece hadn’t left
the doorway after his edict, and she could feel him there, aware he was staring
at her, waiting.

Suitcase packed, she turned to face
him. “I’ll hear you out, Sheriff. But only because I want to leave here.”

His features impassive, he nodded
and stood aside, gesturing her toward the living area. Candy steeled herself
and walked past him, so very aware of his heat and proximity.