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Tina pushed the door open
with a scowl, the other woman hot on her heels.  

Rachel listened to the two
women bicker all the way down the hall as she took a deep breath and sunk
against the tile wall. Could this day get any worse?

The door flew open and Tucker
answered her question without saying a word. He was standing on the other side,
looking like he was ready to put her over his knee, a thought that elicited
violent, painful memories of a time she’d rather forget.

He stepped inside, flipped
the lock, and glared at her.

Her mouth fell open. “You
can’t be in here. This is the ladies’ room.”

“I don’t give a shit. I want
answers, now!” He took a step toward her. “Why’d you hit me?”

She winced when she noticed
he still bore a red welt from her hand. “I said I was sorry. I had no right to
hit you, but you put your hands on me first, and I was just trying to defend
myself.”

He took another step closer,
crowding her, but not touching her. “You honestly thought I would hurt you?”

She could tell that it pained
him to know that she thought so little of him. “I didn’t think; like I said, I
just reacted.” She drew a deep breath, trying to infuse more courage than she
felt into her voice. “I’m sure you’re a good guy, and I don’t want any trouble.
I think it would be best if we just gave each other a wide berth.”

He raised an eyebrow, as
though he was considering her suggestion. “See, now I was thinking just the
opposite. You want to keep our distance…” He dipped his head, almost nipping her
neck. “And I’m thinking we need to get a whole lot closer.”

He wasn’t even touching her,
but it felt like a magnetic force was drawing her to him. Before she could
resist the temptation, she was in his arms, her tongue dueling with his as her
hands thrust into his hair. Her breath faded in his hungry, demanding mouth,
and she relied on him to hold her up as her knees threatened to buckle.

It had been twenty long
months since a man kissed her, and even then, it wasn’t sensual, like Tucker’s
kiss. It was brutal, a vicious promise of what was to come. The memory of that
kiss was like a bucket of ice water dousing the flame Tucker ignited. She
pushed against his massive shoulders. “Stop, I can’t. I’m sorry.”

He rested his forehead
against hers as he struggled to catch his breath. “What the hell just
happened?”

She knew he was referring to
the kiss. There was no point denying it. It was amazing… hands down the most
memorable kiss of her life. She stroked the cheek where her handprint marred
his perfectly chiseled face. She felt compelled to press her lips to the faint
stripe. “I’m so sorry I hurt you.” She hated the thought of hurting someone
else with physical violence, but fear often drove people to do things they
deemed inexcusable.

He smirked as he wrapped his
arms around her waist and tugged her up against the unyielding barrier of his
chest. “Trust me, I’ve been hit harder.” He grabbed her ass, pressing her soft
flesh into his arousal. “To tell the truth, it kind of turned me on.”

She laughed, mainly because
she was relieved he wasn’t planning to arrest her for assaulting a police
officer. “Are you telling me you’re a submissive? You like women to smack you?”

He grinned, revealing a flash
of white teeth against his summer tan. Wow, this man was hot, but still big,
tall, and intimidating. She should be running for her life, but somehow being
with him made her feel safe, safer than she had felt in years.

“Me… a submissive?” He nipped
her bottom lip. “No way, baby. I’m too much of a control freak to ever be
submissive.”

She had no doubt about that.
Everything about him screamed dominance, so why didn’t that terrify her? “I
believe you.” She smiled. “So, you’re a controlling, domineering bully.
Anything else I need to know about you?”

He brushed his lips against
her cheek. “I’m jealous… possessive…” He whispered the words in her ear as he
threaded his hands through her hair to tip her head back. “Hey, baby, what is
it? What did I say?”

She’d heard that veiled
threat before. She hadn’t taken it seriously then, but she couldn’t afford to
take any chances now. She had to get out of here and away from him as fast as
possible. “I have to go.”

He coiled his big hand around
her wrist. “Tell your date you’re leaving with me tonight.”

Was he crazy? He actually
thought she was going to have sex with him, tonight or any other night? “I
don’t think so.” She looked down at his hand. “Please let me go.”

He seemed to consider her
request before he released her. “This isn’t over, sweetheart. In fact, we’re
just getting started.”

Tucker watched her run like a
scared doe caught staring into the barrel of a hunter’s gun. He couldn’t figure
out what spooked her. He’d seen that haunted look in her eyes too many times.
He needed answers and he knew just the person to give them to him.

He walked through the bar,
waving off the few patrons who tried to engage him in conversation. He didn’t
have time for small talk. It didn’t take long to find Rachel sitting at a cozy
table for two in a rear corner of the bar. Her date looked like a boring
accountant, complete with the side part, metal-framed glasses, and pressed
chinos. He watched them interact for a few minutes. She seemed at ease with
him, smiling to encourage conversation, laughing at his jokes. Tucker wondered
why she seemed so uneasy with him, despite their obvious physical attraction.
It didn’t make sense.

The bar was crowded with
patrons waiting for their drinks, but Tucker pushed his way through, and as
usual, people gave him a wide berth. He caught Craig’s eye and raised his hand
to let him know he’d be there in five minutes to join their group. The game had
started half an hour ago, but football was the last thing on his mind right
now.

He knocked on the bar to get
Dixie’s attention and she rolled her eyes at him. Dixie was one of the few
people who didn’t care about his position in this town. She still treated him
the same as she did when they dated back in high school, and he secretly
respected her for it. He was still the same guy now that he was back then,
maybe a little more civilized, but a gun, badge, and title didn’t change who he
was on the inside. His close friends knew that.

“Keep your pants on, Chief.
I’ll get there when I get there.”

He hid his smirk behind his
hand. Dixie didn’t need any encouragement to behave badly. That little spitfire
didn’t give a rip what people thought, and it meant every man in town wanted to
rise to the challenge of taming her. Tucker didn’t think any man in this town,
himself included, would ever succeed in subduing Hurricane Dixie.

He glanced at the large
screen mounted above the bar. It was shaping up to be a good game, but for the
first time in a long time, he had more important things than football on his
mind. This was usually his one night a week to relax with the boys. They’d
bitch about their jobs, wives, girlfriends, kids, money, and life in general,
but they always had a lot of laughs, and that kind of camaraderie with guys
who’d known him since he was a kid was the reason he loved living in a small
town.

Dixie’s assistant bartender,
a college student named Trevor, leaned over the bar. “What can I get you,
Chief?”

“You can tell your boss to
take five and grab me a Bud. Thanks, kid.”

He laughed. “The Bud won’t be
a problem, but you know Dixie calls the shots around here, not me.”

Dixie took over the bar
bearing her name when her parents retired and moved to Florida a few years ago.
She’d been working there since she was in high school, waiting tables and
bartending while she took some business courses at the local college. No one
questioned whether Dixie would one day step in to fill her old man’s shoes. It
was a given. This bar was in her blood.

Trevor whispered in Dixie’s
ear as he pointed in Tucker’s direction.

She glared at Tucker, called
him a pain in the ass, and threw her apron on the bar.

Tucker grinned as he pointed
to the beer bottle Trevor handed to her.

She pointed at him as she
came around the bar. “This better be good. I don’t have time for your bullshit
tonight, Tucker.” She thrust the bottle at him. “Whatever it is, talk fast, I’m
busy.”

He steered her toward an
empty table near the small dance floor. “Tell me about your cousin.”

She leaned back in her seat
and crossed her arms as she glared at him. “Now why would I want to do that?”

He sighed. Dixie was
obstinate on a good day and fiercely protective of anyone she called a friend.
“I’m not asking these questions as a cop, so you can relax. I’m… interested.”
The word felt foreign on his lips. He hadn’t been genuinely interested in
pursuing a relationship with a woman in a long time.

Dixie raised an eyebrow.
“Since when? I thought you wanted to run Rachel out of town.”

She had every reason to be skeptical.
“Let’s just say I’ve had a change of heart.”

Dixie snorted. “You? Ha,
you’re as stubborn as a mule, Tucker Carlton. Your way is the only way, and when
people don’t agree with you, they’re wrong. You’ve had poor Rachel in your
crosshairs ever since she gave Jessica a few dance lessons.” Dixie shrugged her
shoulders. “I don’t see what the big deal was anyways. I’ve never known you to
be such a prude.”

He took a long pull of beer
before responding. She was baiting him to keep him off track, but it wasn’t
going to work. He wasn’t going to let it rest until he knew everything there
was to know about Rachel Morgan.

“Why’d you set her up with
that loser?” He glanced at the man in question and clenched his fist. The bean
counter had pulled his chair around to Rachel’s side of the table and he was
resting his arm on the back of her chair as he whispered in her ear. From where
Tucker was sitting, it looked too intimate, especially since she’d been kissing
him
not more than ten minutes ago.

“Hey, he’s not a loser. He
happens to be a very nice guy. They have a lot in common.”

Tucker couldn’t imagine the
fiery redhead who smacked him upside the head in the middle of a crowded bar
having anything in common with a guy who wore a pen in his shirt pocket on a
first date. “Like what?”

She snapped her fingers in
his face to draw his attention away from Rachel and her date. “That’s none of
your damn business. Now you can go back to your buddies and enjoy the football
game, or you can get the hell out of my bar.”

Tucker smirked. “You’re
throwing me out? On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that you’re a
pain in the ass I don’t have time for tonight.”

He threw his head back and
laughed. Dixie was a piece of work. “Fine, but this isn’t over. Maybe I’ll stop
in for lunch tomorrow, when you’re not so busy.”

“You do that, Chief. It still
won’t get you anywhere.” She pretended to lock her lips and throw away the key.
“My lips are sealed where my cousin’s concerned.”

Tucker frowned as he watched
his old friend re-claim her place behind the bar. He glanced over at Rachel
just as she looked up. Their eyes locked, and she licked her lips, looking
apprehensive. Why all the secrecy? What was she trying to hide, and why did he
feel compelled to find out? He knew it had nothing to do with his professional
curiosity as a cop. His interest in Rachel was strictly personal.

Chapter Three

Rachel watched out of the
corner of her eye with growing concern as Tucker pounded back one beer after
another. She lost track after the eighth one. She knew he wasn’t stupid enough
to drive home in his condition, and judging by the non-stop parade of women
who’d been visiting his table all night, she was certain he would have a dozen
women offering to act as his chauffeur. She told herself it was none of her
business. She shouldn’t give a damn how he got home, but he had done something
nice for her when he rescued her from the roadside; she told herself one good
turn deserved another.

Her date, Tom, pointed at
Tucker’s table. “Isn’t that the police chief over there?”

She swallowed, refusing to
follow the direction of his hand. “Yes, it is.”

He whistled under his breath.
“Man, he sure has been hitting it hard tonight.” He raised his glass of diet
soda. “I’m not much of a drinker myself.”

That should be another point
in Tom’s favor, but no matter how she tried to force it, there was no connection
between them. He was a middle-aged, divorced dad who drove a Buick. He was a
perfectly safe bet, but of course, she was drawn to the one man in the room who
could turn her whole world upside down. What was wrong with her? She had
everything to lose if she let Tucker get too close, so why couldn’t she prevent
herself from stealing a glance in his direction every chance she got?

“Oh darn, that’s the
babysitter,” Tom said, glancing at his call display. “Can you give me a
minute?”