Chapter One
Amy sat in her stalled car on the side of the
busy interstate and tried not to panic. The big, black pick-up
truck easing up behind her caused a sense of fear and relief at the
same time. Her phone was dead, and she'd been sitting behind the
wheel of her disabled vehicle for twenty minutes. It was going to
be dark soon. She needed help, and she needed it now, before her
situation became dangerous. Baton Rouge wasn't exactly a hotbed of
crime, but in a city this large, anything could, and often did,
happen.
Her nervousness increased as the truck
stopped, but the man behind the wheel didn't get out. She could see
him talking on the phone in her rearview mirror. All she could make
out was jet black hair and aviator style sunglasses.
Oh, that black hair. Unbidden images of the
man that haunted her fantasies every night came to her. The many
times she touched that dark hair and tangled her fingers in it. Her
hands gliding over the buttons of his uniform, and undoing them one
by one. Intellectually, she knew that a man in uniform was just a
cliché, but emotionally, she suspected that there was a lot more to
it than that. That cop, in his uniform, had the power to make her
hands tremble and her legs shake.
In reality, she hadn't exchanged more than a
few simple pleasantries with the D.A.R.E. policeman that came to her school and talked to her fifth graders
every week. It was best that she kept the interaction between them
to a minimum. Past events that formed who she was, wouldn't allow a
man in law enforcement into her life.
But the temptation. Oh, the temptation. Ten
weeks. One hour a week. For ten long weeks, just the thought of him
being in the building had been enough to cause a provoking blend of
fascination and distress. But she had persevered, and the program
was finished for the school year. She wouldn't have to see him
again.
Her thoughts focused on the present as the
man in the truck stepped out of his vehicle. His body unfolded to
his full height as he looked around and surveyed the scene. Her
heart nearly stopped beating as she got a better look at him. Same
height, same fantastic build, same arrogant swagger.
It was him!
He wasn't dressed like the man she knew from
her school. He was off duty, for one thing. The street clothes
emphasized his maleness in a way she wasn't used to. Her breath
became snarled up in her throat.
Her eyes detailed the differences. The jet
black hair was the same, but that was about it. His eyes were
hidden by those aviator sunglasses that all cops seemed to wear. He
wore faded jeans and scuffed boots. His torso was covered in a
black tee shirt that molded to his chest. And he had a leather
shoulder holster and pistol clinging to his left side. Amy began to
hyperventilate.
He strolled toward her and reached out to
place a hand on the roof of her car. He leaned down and looked in
the window where she sat. That massive chest and gun were directly
in her line of vision.
"Mrs. Sanford. Having problems, Ma'am?" His
words were low. Respectful. He had one of the deepest voices Amy
had ever heard. It was the most prominent detail in her dreams.
"L-lieutenant Fontenot, y-yes, I am." She
couldn't keep from stammering with that big gun in her face. He was
by far, the sexiest man Amy had ever met.
"What happened?"
"It just started spluttering. I p-pulled over
and it died." Her words were shaky.
"It's okay, Ma'am. You'll be all right." His
words soothed. "Have you called your husband yet?"
Amy paused at the question. Oh, God, here
goes. "I'm not m-married." She felt like she was confessing a
sin.
Primal satisfaction engulfed him at her
words. Not Married! The one and only thing that had kept him from
pursuing her until she was naked and flat on her back in his bed
was the husband he had erroneously believed she had. He had taken
cold showers every night for ten long weeks after watching her sexy
little body moving around the back of the classroom. Ten weeks of
seeing her dressed
Amy sat in her stalled car on the side of the
busy interstate and tried not to panic. The big, black pick-up
truck easing up behind her caused a sense of fear and relief at the
same time. Her phone was dead, and she'd been sitting behind the
wheel of her disabled vehicle for twenty minutes. It was going to
be dark soon. She needed help, and she needed it now, before her
situation became dangerous. Baton Rouge wasn't exactly a hotbed of
crime, but in a city this large, anything could, and often did,
happen.
Her nervousness increased as the truck
stopped, but the man behind the wheel didn't get out. She could see
him talking on the phone in her rearview mirror. All she could make
out was jet black hair and aviator style sunglasses.
Oh, that black hair. Unbidden images of the
man that haunted her fantasies every night came to her. The many
times she touched that dark hair and tangled her fingers in it. Her
hands gliding over the buttons of his uniform, and undoing them one
by one. Intellectually, she knew that a man in uniform was just a
cliché, but emotionally, she suspected that there was a lot more to
it than that. That cop, in his uniform, had the power to make her
hands tremble and her legs shake.
In reality, she hadn't exchanged more than a
few simple pleasantries with the D.A.R.E. policeman that came to her school and talked to her fifth graders
every week. It was best that she kept the interaction between them
to a minimum. Past events that formed who she was, wouldn't allow a
man in law enforcement into her life.
But the temptation. Oh, the temptation. Ten
weeks. One hour a week. For ten long weeks, just the thought of him
being in the building had been enough to cause a provoking blend of
fascination and distress. But she had persevered, and the program
was finished for the school year. She wouldn't have to see him
again.
Her thoughts focused on the present as the
man in the truck stepped out of his vehicle. His body unfolded to
his full height as he looked around and surveyed the scene. Her
heart nearly stopped beating as she got a better look at him. Same
height, same fantastic build, same arrogant swagger.
It was him!
He wasn't dressed like the man she knew from
her school. He was off duty, for one thing. The street clothes
emphasized his maleness in a way she wasn't used to. Her breath
became snarled up in her throat.
Her eyes detailed the differences. The jet
black hair was the same, but that was about it. His eyes were
hidden by those aviator sunglasses that all cops seemed to wear. He
wore faded jeans and scuffed boots. His torso was covered in a
black tee shirt that molded to his chest. And he had a leather
shoulder holster and pistol clinging to his left side. Amy began to
hyperventilate.
He strolled toward her and reached out to
place a hand on the roof of her car. He leaned down and looked in
the window where she sat. That massive chest and gun were directly
in her line of vision.
"Mrs. Sanford. Having problems, Ma'am?" His
words were low. Respectful. He had one of the deepest voices Amy
had ever heard. It was the most prominent detail in her dreams.
"L-lieutenant Fontenot, y-yes, I am." She
couldn't keep from stammering with that big gun in her face. He was
by far, the sexiest man Amy had ever met.
"What happened?"
"It just started spluttering. I p-pulled over
and it died." Her words were shaky.
"It's okay, Ma'am. You'll be all right." His
words soothed. "Have you called your husband yet?"
Amy paused at the question. Oh, God, here
goes. "I'm not m-married." She felt like she was confessing a
sin.
Primal satisfaction engulfed him at her
words. Not Married! The one and only thing that had kept him from
pursuing her until she was naked and flat on her back in his bed
was the husband he had erroneously believed she had. He had taken
cold showers every night for ten long weeks after watching her sexy
little body moving around the back of the classroom. Ten weeks of
seeing her dressed
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