baleful glance. “And walking up to the front of the room had to have taken a lot of courage, knowing no one wants her here.”
Jeremiah didn’t like the pang of doubt that struck his chest. He’d aimed a pretty mean stare her way. Not that she’d seemed the least bit put off. Her chin had inched up, and she’d kept her gaze averted, watching those images of flames spreading across brush.
He hadn’t missed the one real moment of emotion that had crossed her face. The picture of the fire had held her captive. No, she hadn’t changed a bit. Maybe she’d simply gotten better at hiding her firebug proclivities.
“Play nice,” Blake said, under his breath as people filed out of the building. “Judge Sessions says this’ll happen, whether you want it to or not. I’ve given you a way to control the situation. You can thank me later.”
Blake gave him another pat and walked away, just as Carly, who was almost the last person out the door came abreast. Her glance landed on him then darted to the door. So she was nervous around him. Good . “Don’t be late for training,” he bit out.
She halted, and her glance crashed with his. “I won’t,” she said, her mouth crimping into a straight line, and her brow furrowing.
Jeremiah felt a little thrill of attraction tingle in his balls. Oh, hell no. But before he could stem the impulse, he blurted, “Where you staying?”
“At the Prickly Pear Motel.”
He slowly shook his head, dreading what he was about to say. But he knew he wouldn’t rest easy if he didn’t have her under his thumb, twenty-four/seven for the next four days. Keep your enemies close and all… “I’ll follow you there and wait for you to check out.”
Her chin shot higher. “I’m not going away. This is the last task I have to complete to clear my name.”
“I’m not having you roaming free until this is done.”
She stuck her hand on her hip. “Gonna ask your buddy the sheriff to lock me up when I’m not with you?”
Jeremiah nearly growled. “Sweetheart, you’ve got a choice—you’re either sitting in lock-up, or you’re coming home with me.”
“The hell I am.” Her smoky gray eyes rounded.
He liked the flush of pink that crept across her cheeks. He noted, not for the first time, that she was pretty. But her beauty was likely a honey trap. The judge had taken one look at her slim body and pretty blonde looks, and let her off lightly—giving her a short stint in a juvenile detention facility, a fine she’d never pay off, and community service, rather than sending her to a women’s prison where she belonged.
Sure, she looked like an angel, but he knew better. He’d seen the excitement glinting in her eyes when the picture of brushfire had popped on the screen. She hadn’t changed. No, Carly Lohan was a danger to him and every ranch rimming the canyon. “I’ll follow you to the motel.”
“Don’t you think we ought to at least be on first-name basis before you invite me home?” At his next glare, she blew out an exasperated breath that billowed her cheeks. “Fine, it’s just five days, and you saved me the expense of a hotel. You have to feed me, too.”
“Oh, you’ll earn your room and board, Carly ,” he drawled, warming to the thought of how he’d keep her busy for the next few days. She wouldn’t be so saucy after mucking out horseshit in the barn. And then an image popped into his mind of other forms of service she might provide…
He clamped down on his attraction. Don’t go there. She was trouble with a capital T, and the sooner she was gone, the better.
Carly turned on a heel, marched through the doors and down the steps, him following close behind. Her car wasn’t much to look at. Paint was peeling. The rear fender was missing.
Looked like she’d had hard times. Again, his chest tightened, wondering where she’d been all this time, and what hardships she’d faced.
Not his problem, he reminded himself, setting his jaw as he climbed into
Jeremiah didn’t like the pang of doubt that struck his chest. He’d aimed a pretty mean stare her way. Not that she’d seemed the least bit put off. Her chin had inched up, and she’d kept her gaze averted, watching those images of flames spreading across brush.
He hadn’t missed the one real moment of emotion that had crossed her face. The picture of the fire had held her captive. No, she hadn’t changed a bit. Maybe she’d simply gotten better at hiding her firebug proclivities.
“Play nice,” Blake said, under his breath as people filed out of the building. “Judge Sessions says this’ll happen, whether you want it to or not. I’ve given you a way to control the situation. You can thank me later.”
Blake gave him another pat and walked away, just as Carly, who was almost the last person out the door came abreast. Her glance landed on him then darted to the door. So she was nervous around him. Good . “Don’t be late for training,” he bit out.
She halted, and her glance crashed with his. “I won’t,” she said, her mouth crimping into a straight line, and her brow furrowing.
Jeremiah felt a little thrill of attraction tingle in his balls. Oh, hell no. But before he could stem the impulse, he blurted, “Where you staying?”
“At the Prickly Pear Motel.”
He slowly shook his head, dreading what he was about to say. But he knew he wouldn’t rest easy if he didn’t have her under his thumb, twenty-four/seven for the next four days. Keep your enemies close and all… “I’ll follow you there and wait for you to check out.”
Her chin shot higher. “I’m not going away. This is the last task I have to complete to clear my name.”
“I’m not having you roaming free until this is done.”
She stuck her hand on her hip. “Gonna ask your buddy the sheriff to lock me up when I’m not with you?”
Jeremiah nearly growled. “Sweetheart, you’ve got a choice—you’re either sitting in lock-up, or you’re coming home with me.”
“The hell I am.” Her smoky gray eyes rounded.
He liked the flush of pink that crept across her cheeks. He noted, not for the first time, that she was pretty. But her beauty was likely a honey trap. The judge had taken one look at her slim body and pretty blonde looks, and let her off lightly—giving her a short stint in a juvenile detention facility, a fine she’d never pay off, and community service, rather than sending her to a women’s prison where she belonged.
Sure, she looked like an angel, but he knew better. He’d seen the excitement glinting in her eyes when the picture of brushfire had popped on the screen. She hadn’t changed. No, Carly Lohan was a danger to him and every ranch rimming the canyon. “I’ll follow you to the motel.”
“Don’t you think we ought to at least be on first-name basis before you invite me home?” At his next glare, she blew out an exasperated breath that billowed her cheeks. “Fine, it’s just five days, and you saved me the expense of a hotel. You have to feed me, too.”
“Oh, you’ll earn your room and board, Carly ,” he drawled, warming to the thought of how he’d keep her busy for the next few days. She wouldn’t be so saucy after mucking out horseshit in the barn. And then an image popped into his mind of other forms of service she might provide…
He clamped down on his attraction. Don’t go there. She was trouble with a capital T, and the sooner she was gone, the better.
Carly turned on a heel, marched through the doors and down the steps, him following close behind. Her car wasn’t much to look at. Paint was peeling. The rear fender was missing.
Looked like she’d had hard times. Again, his chest tightened, wondering where she’d been all this time, and what hardships she’d faced.
Not his problem, he reminded himself, setting his jaw as he climbed into
Similar Books
