Under the Covers
by Rebecca Zanetti
Copyright © 2013 by Rebecca Zanetti. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
Chapter One
Juliet tensed the second the outside door clanged shut. So much for her brief reprieve. She turned around and sat on the highest rung of the ladder, her gaze on the hard wooden floor so far below her feet. Paintings still hung on the wall, and she needed to take them down. But first, she had to face the sheriff.
She’d known he’d show up after receiving her e-mail. Nerves jumped in her belly as she waited.
He strode into the main room of the art gallery and brought the scents of male and pine with him. Stopping several feet away, he looked up. “Juliet.”
“Sheriff.” She took a deep breath, trying to keep her focus on his dark eyes.
But that body deserved a second glance. Tight and packed hard, the sheriff wore faded jeans, a dark button-downed shirt, and a gun at his hip. Black hair swept away from a bronze face with rugged features. Not handsome, but definitely masculine and somehow, tough. Years ago, she’d liked tough. Many years ago.
He cocked his head to the side and studied her.
For months, he’d been studying her…that dark gaze probing deep, warming her in places she tried to control. But Quinn Lodge was all about control, and the smirk he gave promised she’d be the one relinquishing it. “Any other woman, I’d be worried about that top rung. Not you, though,” he murmured.
She smiled to mask her instant arousal from his gravelly voice and resorted to using a polite tone. “You don’t care if I fall?”
“I care. But you won’t fall. You’re the most graceful person I’ve ever met. Ever even seen.” Admiration and something deeper glimmered in his eyes.
She swallowed. “Thank you. Now perhaps we should get to the arguing part of the evening.”
“I’m not going to argue.” Stubbornness lined his jaw, at home and natural along the firm length. “Neither are you.”
While the words sounded like a peaceful overture, in truth, they were nothing but an order. She clasped her hands together and smoothed down her long skirt. When he used that tone, her panties dampened. If the boys from the private school who’d dubbed her “frigid virgin” could only see her now. “Good, no arguing. We agree.”
His grin flashed a dimple in his left cheek, and he shifted his weight. “You’re not leaving the gallery.”
“Yes, I am.” She should not look. She absolutely would not look. But she’d recognized his move when he’s shifted his weight…yes. A very impressive bulge filled out the sheriff’s worn jeans.
She swallowed, her ears ringing. Her thighs suddenly ached to part.
His eyebrows rose. “Juliet?”
Guilt flashed through her even as her eyes shot up. “Yes?”
His smile was devastating. “Would you like to finally discuss it?”
“Your erection?” The words slipped out before she could think. Oh God. She slapped a hand over her mouth.
He laughed, the sound male and free. “Here in the backcountry, ma’am, we prefer the term hard-on. But, yes, let’s discuss the fact that I’m permanently erect around you. Tell me you’re finally ready to do something about it.”
Her heart bashed into her rib cage. “Like what?” she choked.
“Well now”—he tucked his thumbs in his pockets, his gaze caressing up her legs to her rapidly sharpening nipples—“I’ve never taken a woman on a ladder before, but the thought does have some possibilities. How flexible are you, darlin’?”
The spit dried up in her mouth, while warmth flowed through the rest of her. He wasn’t joking. If she gave the word, he’d be on her. Shock filled her at how badly she wanted the sheriff on her. Most men would be at least a little embarrassed by the tented jeans. Not Quinn Lodge. He wanted to explore the idea.
“While I appreciate your offer, I’d prefer we returned to settling the issue of the gallery.” Could she sound any less like a spinster from the eighteen hundreds? “I’m unable to pay the rent, and thus, I need to move on.” But where? The upcoming art show needed to be somewhere close by or nobody would attend. While she had no choice but to leave town right after the opening, at least she could leave on a triumphant note.
“I don’t need the rent. Let’s keep a running total, and after you’re hugely successful, you can pay me.” He ran a broad hand through his hair. “Stop being impossible.”
She wasn’t a charity case. Plus, the last person she wanted to owe was the sheriff. The man viewed the world in clear, unequivocal lines, and she lived in the gray area. A fact he could never know.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not taking advantage of you.” She was out of money, and no way would she stick around.
He sighed. “Juliet, I don’t need the money.”
The words from any other man would’ve been bragging. Not Quinn Lodge. He was merely being nice…and telling the truth. His family owned most of Montana, and he’d invested heavily in real estate. The guy owned many properties, including the two-story brick building that had held her gallery for the past few months, since she’d arrived in town.
She sighed. “I’m not owing you.”
His chin lowered.
Hers lifted.
A cell phone buzzed from his pocket. He drew it out, frowned at the number, and then looked back up at her. “I, ah, need to take this. Do you mind?”
“No.” Darn if his manners didn’t make her feel even more uncomfortable.
“Thanks.” He lifted the device to his ear. “Lodge here.”
He listened and slowly exhaled. “Thank you, Governor.” He shook his head. “I don’t think so… Yes, I understand what you are saying.” Dark eyes rose and warmed as they focused on Juliet’s hardened nipples. She’d cross her arms, but why hide? It wasn’t like the sheriff was concerned about the massive erection he was still sporting, and she could be just as nonchalant as he. She dragged her thoughts back to his ongoing conversation.
“I would, but I already have a date.” That dimple flashed again, this time longer. “Yes, I’m seeing someone—Juliet Montgomery. She owns the art gallery in town. Of course she’ll be at the dance as well as at the ride. Thank you very much.” He slid the phone into his pocket.
Tingles wandered down Juliet’s spine. Several of her fantasies regarding the sheriff included being part of his everyday life. Of course, many more centered on his nights. “We’re dating?”
“Well now,” only a true Montana man could drawl a sentence like that—“how about we reach an agreement?”
She frowned even as her clit sprang to attention. Her raging hormones would love to reach an agreement. “I’m not for sale, Quinn.”
He lost the smile. “I would never presume you were, darlin’. Here’s the deal—we both need help. How about we help each other?”
Without knowing the facts, she knew enough to understand this was a bad idea. No matter how many tingles rippled through her abdomen. “Why did you tell the governor we’re dating?”
“He tried to fix me up with his niece, and I needed an out. You’re my out.” Dare and self-effacing humor danced on his face. “How about we date for the next six weeks, just until the election, and you keep the gallery rent-free? You’d really be helping me out.”
Quinn was up for reelection for the sheriff’s office. She shook her head. “You don’t need to play games. Everybody loves you.”
“No. The people in the town of Mineral Lake like me. But Maverick County is a large area, and I need the governor’s endorsement. The last thing I have time for is campaigning for a job I love when I need to be doing that job.”
Considering she’d be leaving soon, maybe she should provide him some assistance. “You have more money than the governor. Buy some ads.”
“I’m not spending money on ads. It’s a waste as well as an insult to hardworking people.”
“Tell the governor you aren’t interested in his niece.” Juliet narrowed her gaze. Quinn Lodge didn’t kowtow to anybody.
“Refusing the governor is a bad idea.” He stalked closer to the ladder. “His niece is Amy Nelson, a woman I briefly dated, and she wanted more. Her daddy is Jocko Nelson, and he’s more than willing to spend a fortune backing Miles Lansing for sheriff. My already dating somebody saves my butt, sweetheart.”
The last thing she wanted to talk about was his fine butt. Nor did she want to think about him dating some other woman. “I’m not your solution.”
“Besides”—he reached the bottom of the ladder and held up a hand—“aren’t you tired of dancing around this? For the last few months, we’ve danced around this.”
“That’s what responsible adults do.” She automatically took his hand to descend.
Electricity danced up her arm from his warm palm.
“Bullshit.” He helped her to the hard-tiled floor. “You feel it, too.”
Yes, she did, and the crass language actually turned her on. But he didn’t know her, and he wouldn’t like her if he did. “I’ve chosen not to act on any temporary attraction.” As a tall woman, it truly unnerved her when she needed to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. “How tall are you, anyway?”
He shrugged. “Six four, last time I checked. How about you?”
“Five ten.”
He nodded. “Petite. Very petite.”
The man was crazy. She tugged her hand free. “I’m not dating you.”
“I know. We’re pretending.” He glanced around at the many paintings on the wall. “Are these from Sophie’s new collection?”
“Yes.” The damn man already knew his sister-in-law’s paintings adorned the walls.
“Didn’t you promise her an amazing showing for the opening of your gallery?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Well, then. This is the only place to have an amazing showing, right?”
Wasn’t that just like a man to go right for the kill? Sophie was Juliet’s friend, one of her only friends, and the showing meant a lot to her. “You’re not being fair.”
He reached out and ran a finger down Juliet’s cheek, his gaze following the motion.
Heat flared from his touch, through her breasts, right down between her legs. “Stop.”
His hand dropped. “I need a pretend girlfriend. You need to keep the gallery open. This is a perfect agreement.”
Darn it. Temptation had her glancing around the spectacular space. Three rooms, all containing different types of Western art, made up the gallery. The main room already held most of the paintings created by Sophie Lodge. Rich, oil-based paintings showing life in Maverick, life on the reservation, and the wickedness of Montana weather. The showing would put both Sophie’s art and Juliet’s gallery on the Western-gallery map just like the C. M. Russell Museum in Great Falls or the National Museum of Wildlife Art in Jackson Hole.
She wanted on that map. Perhaps badly enough to make a deal with the sheriff. Plus, she was tired of dancing around her attraction to Quinn. Would that attraction explode or fizzle if they spent time together? Frankly, it didn’t matter. She had to leave town soon. Why not appease her curiosity? “Okay, but keep your hands to yourself.”
“But—”
“No.” She pressed her hands on her hips. The man was too dangerous, too tempting. A woman had to keep some control, or Quinn would run wild. No question. “You’re creative, and this is your idea. If we pretend to date, you keep your hands off me.”
His eyes dropped to an amused, challenging expression. He held out both hands, palms up. “Tell you what, darlin’. These hands won’t touch you until you ask nicely. Very nicely.”
“That will never happen,” she snapped.
His left eyebrow rose. “I wondered if that red hair came with a temper.” Interest darkened his eyes to midnight. “So much passion locked up in such a classy package. I thought so.” He leaned into her space. “Be careful, or I’ll make you beg.”
She almost doubled over from the spike of desire that shot through her abdomen. How many pairs of high-end panties had she gone through the last month, anyway? “Back away, Sheriff.”
He stepped back, as she’d known he would, but the knowing desire in his eyes didn’t wane. He glanced at his smartphone. “Give me your cell in case I can’t find you at the gallery.”
She shuffled her feet. A cell? Yeah, right. Even if she had the money, they were too easy to trace. “I, ah, don’t have one.”
Watchful intelligence filled his eyes as he glanced up. A cop’s eyes. “Why not?”
“I have not had time to find the right one and choose a plan.”
“Interesting.” He slipped the phone into his pocket, turned on the heel of his cowboy boot, and headed for the door. “Be ready at six tomorrow night for the Excel Foundation Fund-raiser in Billings. The drive will take us an hour.”
All tension disappeared from the room as he left. Well, except for the tension at the base of her neck from the phone being silent. It had been ringing for almost a week with nobody on the other side. Surely a bunch of kids just goofing off, but she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that kept her up at night. Well, when erotic images of a nude Quinn weren’t haunting her dreams.
She sagged against the ladder as she forced herself to relax. Yeah, right. Pretending to be the sheriff’s girlfriend would be anything but relaxing. What in the world had she just done?
…
The fund-raiser was located at the Billings Mountain Hotel, and the grand ballroom sparkled like something out of New York. Chandeliers lined the ceiling, and real crystal decorated the tables.
Juliet willed her nerves to stop jumping.
Just inside the main doors, Sophie Lodge grinned and looked her up and down. “You are gorgeous. Now stop being a chicken. I let you drive in with me earlier so you could avoid Quinn, but your time is up.”
Juliet smiled to keep from frowning at her friend. “First of all, we needed to come to the city to choose the music for your showing next month. Then, apparently, you needed to shop like you’d won the lottery.” It had been fun to shop with a friend again. Although her life had been odd, at one time, she’d had friends she’d enjoyed shopping with. Cool, cultured friends who minded their own business.
Not Sophie. Nobody in the town of Mineral Lake minded their own business. Shopping with Sophie had been more like an inquisition into Juliet’s feelings for Quinn.
Sophie flipped her wispy, blond hair over her shoulder. The mass framed her pixie face perfectly. “The menu we chose from the caterer was ideal, too.”
Yes, it was. Unfortunately, the deposit for the food included the last dime Juliet owned. Now she had to go through with the sheriff’s charade no matter what. It was way too late to turn back.
Sophie teetered on her heels. “It was nice of the hotel to let us change in one of the guest rooms.”
The hair prickled on the back of Juliet’s neck. Was somebody watching her? She cased the room, and too many shadows slithered around the corners.
“I really like your dress,” Sophie continued chattering.
For goodness’ sake. Juliet needed to get a grip. Nobody was watching her. She glanced down at the sparkling green dress she’d brought when she moved to Montana. “I think I should’ve worn basic black.”
“Why?” Sophie smoothed her hands over the blue fabric hugging her hips and the very slight baby bump. She’d wanted a fun pregnancy dress, but at only two months pregnant, everything had been too big. Her dress had spaghetti straps, a cinched waist, and great lines. “We work hard and deserve a break. Every woman should sparkle.”
The last thing Juliet wanted to do was stand out. “This was such an incredibly bad idea.”
Sophie shrugged and peered at the crowd. “If you ask me, it was about time Quinn made a move.”
“Your brother-in-law and I are friends. He needed a date, and I said yes.” Maybe she should tell Sophie the whole truth.
“There they are.” Sophie waved.
Juliet turned to spot Quinn standing by Sophie’s husband, Jake, by the far bar. The men were dressed in black suits. She swallowed. The sheriff looked amazing, tough and sleek, in the suit. It was open at the collar and showed a crisp white shirt. Even then, the sense of contained power vibrated around the man. “Oh, my.” Juliet steeled her shoulders.
Sophie nodded vigorously. “I know, right? Those Lodge boys clean up nice. Really nice.”
“I see the honeymoon isn’t over for you.”
“Nope.” Sophie started to lead the way through the crowd. “We’ve been married for a whole month now, and I don’t think the honeymoon will ever be over.”
Happiness all but oozed from the woman, and a pang of want hit Juliet. What would it be like to have a wonderful husband, a family, and a life without fear? “Please tell me I can drive home with you tonight.”
“Nope,” Sophie repeated, tossing a grin over her shoulder. “Jake and I are staying at the hotel. I guess you’ll have to drive back with Quinn.”
Juliet glanced up to discover dark eyes watching her. Her knees trembled, but she gracefully moved between chairs and people on the three-inch heels. While her mother hadn’t taught her much, she had taught her how a lady appeared in public. Whether she liked it or not.
Sophie reached Jake first and was instantly captured in a kiss that belonged in private. Juliet ignored them and kept her focus on the sheriff. “Quinn.”
He clasped his hands at his back. “You look beautiful. Can I touch you yet?”
She grinned, her heart lightening. How did he know just what to say to make her laugh and relax? “No, but I’m glad you remembered the rules.”
He sighed, a woeful frown dancing on his face. “Rules are meant to be broken.”
Boy, did she wish he actually meant those words. “You enforce rules…rather sternly, or so I’ve heard.”
“I believe I’m tough but fair.” He used air quotes on the adjectives, a smile in his voice.
A round man three inches shorter than Juliet breezed around the bar. “Sounds like a campaign slogan, Sheriff Lodge.”
Quinn turned his head and nodded. “Juliet Montgomery, may I introduce Governor Nelson?”
The governor took her hand in his moist one. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“And you, Governor,” she said softly. “Congratulations on getting House Bill 3000 passed. Very impressive.”
His wide chest and even wider belly puffed out. “A beautiful woman who follows politics. You’re a lucky man, Lodge.”
“Yes, I am,” Quinn said, his gaze warm on her.
The lights flickered, and the governor released her hand. “Well, I guess it’s time to sit down for dinner. I need to make a quick phone call and will meet you at our table.” He bustled off.
Quinn stepped close enough for her to smell pine and male, but he didn’t touch her. “HB 300?”
“A new bill allowing Montana residents to trap mountain lions if they’re a threat to livestock.” She shrugged. “I Googled recent bills before heading into town earlier.”
“Googled?” His grin flashed his dimple. “I think I love you.”
Her knees trembled with the need to step back. Even though he was kidding, heat slid through her skin. She smoothed her face into calm lines. “That was easy.”
His dark eyes narrowed. “Did I upset you?”
“Of course not.” Why in the world did he have to be so observant? She had to get away from him. No way could she spend time in his vicinity and keep her secrets. While she hadn’t broken any laws in Montana by using a fake name, she had definitely crossed a line or two. Or maybe having fake identification was a crime. But she hadn’t used it, so did it count? Of course, the laws she’d broken back home would land her in prison, without question. She hoped to any God who listened that Quinn Lodge wouldn’t be the man slamming the steel door shut.
Quinn leaned closer. “What thoughts are flashing so quickly through that pretty head of yours, darlin’?”
She dropped her eyelids to half-mast. “I was just noticing how sexy you are in a suit, Sheriff.” If all else fails, flirt.
“Hmmm.” He gestured toward a round table in the center of the room. “How about we go sit down before I press you to be honest with me?”
Instinctively, she batted her eyelashes. “You’re talking in riddles.” Turning on her high heel, she sauntered through tables and chairs to reach their spot. Her rear end burned from his gaze, and she couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder.
She shouldn’t have looked. He stood, his focus on her bare skin, fire in his eyes.
The sheriff wanted her—and he had no intention of hiding it.
Grabbing a chair back, she stopped moving before she fell on her face. This was going to be a long night.
Chapter Two
Quinn waited for the bartender to count his change, his gaze on the woman sitting at their table. He’d settled her in her seat before returning to the bar. They had the white wine she liked, and he wanted her happy.
His brother shot him a grin. “Sorry I couldn’t ride in with you earlier—my hearing today took longer than I thought.”
“No problem.” Quinn had always been damn proud Jake was such a hotshot lawyer.
“I know.” Jake eyed the table. “You and Juliet, huh? Finally?”
“Yes.”
“How?” As usual, Jake went right for the throat.
Quinn dropped a tip in the jar. “I told her I needed a date, in fact, I needed a girlfriend until the election.” Which was the truth. Her sticking by his side would certainly ease the situation with the governor and his niece.
Jake snorted. “Juliet fell for that?”
“So she says.” Quinn couldn’t stop the wry grin. “She required a push, she’s a sweetheart who wants to help, and it seemed to work.”
“Maybe she just doesn’t want to date you. How many times as she turned you down, anyway?”
“Twenty or so.” Quinn lifted a shoulder. “Though she’s interested.” He frowned and accepted the change. “There’s something about her that seems off. Not dangerous, just off.”
Jake took a glass of Scotch and an orange juice from the bartender. “I’d run her.”
Yeah, Quinn had thought about a background check. He grabbed Juliet’s wine and his ginger ale. “I’d rather she told me the truth.”
“I get that.” Jake turned toward the table. “My daughter is thrilled you’re finally out with Juliet because she’s ready for a new aunt.”
Quinn almost spilled the wine. “I like Juliet and think we’ll have some fun. You need to explain things to Leila.” Leila was five years old and way too wise for her years, maybe because her mother had passed away right after she was born. But she’d found a new mama when Jake married Sophie, and now she wanted everyone married and happy.
His brother shrugged. “Sometimes marriage sneaks up on you. Trust me.” He sat next to Sophie and handed her the juice.
Quinn sat down. Nothing sneaked up on him, and he wasn’t the marrying kind. At least, he wouldn’t marry until he stopped being a threat to the people around him. While he had his emotions mostly under control, some nights he awoke from a nightmare, thinking he was in Afghanistan and looking for somebody to hurt. Until reality set back in.
Juliet reached for her Riesling and cut him a quick glance.
Next to her, Amy Nelson chattered on about the summer collection of designer shoes she’d just bought. What was it with women and shoes? She should’ve spent more money on material for a dress. The white one she wore stretched tight against her ample bust and stopped several inches too far away from her knees. Her boobs pushed out the sides and up the top, and she’d probably have bruises from the fabric cutting in. Her uncle, the governor, sat next to her, texting something on his phone. A widower, he’d apparently brought his niece as a date.
Next to him sat Miles Lansing, one of Quinn’s two opponents in the sheriff race. Lansing was a politician, not a cop, and didn’t belong with a gun in his hand. His wife, a brunette with hard eyes and a slinky black dress, sat to his left, her gaze appraising.
Quinn glanced at Juliet again. Her green dress clasped at one shoulder, leaving the other one bare and inviting for his mouth. It cinched at her tiny waist and flared down to her feet. Although the sparkles covered most of her, she was sexy as hell. An Irish sprite in his Montana world. He cock instantly sprang to attention, which was nothing new when Juliet was near. He leaned over to whisper, “You really do look stunning, Juliet.”
A sweet blush rose from her neck up over her porcelain skin.
Sophie’s head jerked, and she raised an eyebrow at Amy, the expression a woman got when she was about to defend a friend. Quinn rolled back the last few minutes of chatter in his mind. Oh. Amy had made a comment about homespun dresses and Juliet’s sparkles. That was a girl insult, right?
He opened his mouth to say something nice about the dress, only to stop when Juliet patted his hand. The innocent touch shot straight to his groin, and he snapped his jaw shut to keep from groaning.
She smiled. “Oh, Amy, you’re so sweet. I bought this at Barneys in New York last season. They have the nicest personal shoppers in the designer section. You really must give them a try—they’re masters at helping women choose the, well, the right size for their figures.” She turned toward Sophie. “How is the design for the golf course in North Carolina coming?”
Delight flashed across Sophie’s pretty face. Quinn had a feeling the delight was due to the smack-on insult Juliet had delivered so classily and not from the question about design, but who the hell knew. Women had a language he’d never fully understood, although Juliet had a couple of levels to her he hadn’t anticipated. Classy, elegant, and tough. She handled the political situation like she’d done so her whole life. But she came from a small town in Idaho, right?
“I’m almost finished with the practice greens,” Sophie said with a grin. Multitalented, Sophie designed golf courses when she wasn’t painting. Her first art show would be in a month at Juliet’s gallery, and both women seemed to be working hard.
Amy interrupted Sophie, her blue eyes flashing sparks. “When where you in New York, Juliet?”
Juliet took a sip of her wine. “Last year. Every once in a while, I like to visit the galleries in the city to see what’s new, just so our Western art is up to speed at the gallery.”
Her hand shook slightly as she set her glass down. Most people wouldn’t have noticed.
Quinn Lodge wasn’t most people. The woman lied. Why?
He glanced at his brother to see if Jake had noticed, but Jack was busy tracing Sophie’s knuckles with his fingers. Damn newlywed. “Jake, how did your hearing go today?”
Jake lifted his gaze, his expression knowing. Oh yeah, he’d noticed Juliet’s discomfort. “Fine. The hearing was a status one regarding an upcoming trial. Not nearly as interesting as a good election fight.”
“Speaking of campaigning”—Miles looked down his patrician nose—“I find it odd Bennington isn’t here tonight.”
The governor shrugged. “Perhaps he’s not as serious about running for sheriff as the two of you.” Faded eyes appraising, the governor surveyed the room.
“He’s probably busy running his ranch,” Quinn said smoothly. He liked Bennington, but the guy had a fierce temper and shouldn’t carry a gun or badge. He should stick to his ranch.
“Bennington doesn’t have much backing.” Miles leaned forward. “I’ve heard the Kooskia Tribe doesn’t support him. Frankly, the tribe only supports its own.”
Quinn smiled. “The tribe supports the best person for the job, regardless of tribal affiliations. Always has, always will.” Right now, the Kooskia Tribe backed him, and he liked to think it was because he did a damn fine job. Though he was self-aware enough to know it probably didn’t hurt that he was a tribal member and his grandfather the chief.
Miles rubbed his Rolex. “I’m sure you could always get a job with the tribal police force.”
“I’m sure I could.” Quinn met the man’s gaze evenly. “But I like collaborating with them and still policing the entire county.”
Mile’s quick smile promised fierce competition. “Interesting.”
Juliet smoothed out her napkin. “Miles, what experience do you have in law enforcement?”
Warmth flooded through Quinn. The little redhead had just defended him.
Miles cleared his throat. “I’m more of a financial leader, which we need in the county. Not every sheriff needs to swagger around and shoot people.”
Jake snorted. “You been swaggering and shooting again, Quinn?”
“I guess so. Don’t tell Mom.” Quinn slid his arm around Juliet’s chair, careful not to touch. Something in him wanted to tuck her close and hold tight.
Dinner passed quickly and included veiled insults from Amy, classy counters by Juliet, and threats from Lansing about how new blood was needed in the sheriff’s office. By the time the waiter removed their dessert plates, Quinn’s temples pounded.
Sophie nudged him. “I can’t believe you’re not drinking,” she whispered.
He could use a Scotch. Or three shots of tequila. “I’m driving Juliet home, and I’m on call tonight.” Several deputies were out with the damn flu going around town, and he needed to be alert.
“Bummer.” Sophie took a healthy gulp of her orange juice.
Sometimes Quinn wanted to drop his sister-in-law in the lake. At her impish grin, he smiled back. Nah. He adored the pixie-sized smart-ass.
An orchestra in the corner started playing softly, and he pushed away from the table, glad for the reprieve. “Juliet? Let’s stretch our legs. Please excuse us, folks.”
“I’d love to, Sheriff.” She rose from the table, all grace, all beauty, and smiled at the group at large. “Thank you for a wonderful dinner. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
The governor patted his round belly. “We’ll see you Saturday at the charity ride? It’s for the boys group outside of Missoula and is so important to our constituents.”
“We’ll be there,” Miles Lansing said, a smirk on his lips.
Quinn forced a smile. “Juliet and I wouldn’t miss it. See you then.”
They needed to get the hell away from the table. Quinn followed her as she all but glided around tables and people to a quiet area by the bar. Tall and curvy, she moved with an intriguing elegance. Her backless dress revealed a sexy spine right down to her tiny waist. Damn, he loved backless dresses. His fingers itched with the need to touch her silky skin, but he’d made a promise. Damn it.
Juliet stopped, turned, and rested against a three-foot-wide wooden pillar. “Well, dinner was interesting.”
His shoulders relaxed for the first time all evening. “Do you understand why I didn’t want to escort the governor’s niece?”
“Yes. I can’t believe you dated her.” Juliet’s eyes glowed like emeralds in the soft lighting.
“Me either.” He glanced over his shoulder to catch their table watching him. He focused back at the stunning woman within his reach. “They’re watching us. How about a kiss to convince them we’re truly together?”
“We’re not.” Pink wandered across her high cheekbones. She’d worn her dark red hair up in a sophisticated twist he wanted to tangle. “There’s nothing between us, Sheriff. You need to know that.”
He loved a good challenge, so he stepped close enough to smell citrus and woman. “I disagree. There’s a lot between us, Juliet. Now how about my kiss?”
…
Juliet had sipped just enough wine, dealt with just enough snide comments from Amy, and fought off enough attraction to the sheriff to pick up the challenge. All night she’d been aware of the heat pouring off the man and of every contained move he made. “You think you can kiss me without touching me?”
“I didn’t promise not to touch you. I promised to keep my hands off you.” Dare, with more than a hint of male, glittered in his eyes. “One kiss to convince people around us that we’re together…and to convince me that you’re not interested in me.”
She pressed her palms and her back against the smooth wood. For so long, she’d been afraid to date. Most men turned tail and ran when they got to know her. Quinn would never get the chance to run because she’d run first. So why not accept the sexy promise in his challenge? Freedom flushed through her. “All right. Let’s see what you’ve got, Sheriff.”
His eyes darkened to a dangerous hue. Slowly, keeping her gaze, he put both hands on the pillar on either side of her head, effectively caging her.
The breath caught in her throat. Desire hummed awake in her abdomen. The world silenced around her, narrowing to the man suddenly in her space.
He leaned forward until his lips hovered over hers. “Close your eyes.” The words brushed against her skin in a soft but unmistakable order.
Her eyelids fluttered closed. For seconds, nothing happened. Then a firm glide of warm lips brushed hers, and she opened her mouth with a sigh. He slanted his mouth and deepened the kiss, all male, all in control. Her head was trapped, her body secured, and his mouth gave no mercy. Gentleness slid into possessiveness. He kissed her hard enough she could do nothing but take all he was giving.
Electricity zipped from her lips to her breasts, zinging around until sparking between her legs.
Her nails dug into the wood in an effort to remain still.
His tongue brushed hers, rubbing on the roof of her mouth. With a soft groan, she slid her hands over his broad chest to clutch his hair. Her nipples pebbled harder than diamonds when she pressed her body against his. Her clit jumped to life, pounding with a need so great it actually hurt.
He went deeper, making her head spin.
She forgot where she was. For the first time in months, she forgot who she was. As he kissed her, she could do nothing but feel.
For eons, she remained lost in the whirlwind created by Quinn Lodge.
Slowly, he softened the kiss. Finally, he released her mouth.
She gaped at him, her hands in his thick hair, her body pressed against his. Oh, oh. She blinked several times and released him to lean back against the pillar. His hands were still flattened against the wall. He’d kept his promise and hadn’t touched her. Of course, she’d all but tackled him to the ground to ride like a prized pony.
Expecting triumph on his face, she stilled at the genuine pleasure lighting his eyes.
His cheek creased. “Juliet, I do believe you’re one of a kind.”
Kindness from the sexy man would be her undoing. She’d tell him to go away…if her voice worked. There was no way her voice worked. God. What was she going to do?
His dark gaze dropped to her throbbing lips. “Why did you lie during dinner?”
Alarm flared through her mind with the clanging of bells. “I didn’t lie.”
His gaze rose to pin her as effectively as his lips had a moment ago. “Yes, you did lie. While I couldn’t care less why or when you went to New York, I do care that you lied to me.”
Then he shouldn’t have asked her to be his date. She’d been lying to him since day one, which is why they had to stay apart from each other. The sheriff was too damn observant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I really don’t appreciate being questioned like this.”
“My apologies.” His jaw firmed. “Are you in trouble? I mean, do you need help?”
Yes, she was in trouble, mainly from the sexy sheriff. “No.”
He sighed. “This isn’t one of those situations where you’re running from debts, the law, or an abusive ex-husband, is it?”
Close, but not quite. “I give you my word I’m not running from debts, the law, or an abusive ex-husband.” It was the truth, and by the way his body relaxed, he believed her.
“Okay.” His hands dropped away from the pillar. “Can I touch you yet?”
She smiled, her body roaring with need. If she gave in to it, he’d burn her up. But it might just be worth it. “I’m not interested.”
His upper lip quirked. “Darlin’, I could have you coming around my cock in three seconds, and you know it.”
The rough tone and crass words almost sent her into an orgasm right there. Never in her life had she been talked to in such a manner—who knew she’d enjoy it? Or maybe she just liked Quinn. “You’re terribly confident, aren’t you?”
“Want me to prove it to you?”
Yes. Definitely yes. She lifted her chin and glanced around the ballroom. “Where? A nice linen closet somewhere?” Her sniff held just the right amount of derision to darken his eyes.
He leaned in, his heated mouth on her neck. “When I take you for the first time, and believe me, it’s going to happen, I want a bed and all night. You’re going to scream my name, and you’re going to beg, pretty Juliet.”
It was a good thing she hadn’t worn panties. Why bother? But as his confident tone wrapped around them, so did reality. She was leaving, and for the first time, she wondered if she had the power to hurt him. Hurting Quinn was the last thing she wanted to do. “You made a promise—no touching,” she whispered.
He levered back, gaze narrowing on her. Whatever he saw made him lean back more. “You’re all stubborn Irish, aren’t you?”
“Close enough.”
He nodded. “Okay. You get your reprieve for now. Let’s go have a drink next door with Jake and Soph, and then I’ll take you home. Tomorrow I work, but on Saturday, I accepted an invitation for us to ride in the Boys Club trail-ride.”
Panic heated her. “Ride? Ride what?”
His eyebrow rose. “Horses. Of course. Why?”
She swallowed. “I, ah, I don’t ride.”
He blinked. Twice. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t ride horses. Ever.” How hard was that to understand?
“That’s impossible. You’re from Idaho, right?” He cocked his head to the side.
“Ah, yes,” she lied, keeping her gaze open and on his.
“But you don’t ride.”
“No. Never have.”
He slowly nodded, his eyes narrowing. “Okay. I get off work at four tomorrow. Meet me at my house, and we’ll go for a quick lesson.”
“No way.”
“You live in Montana, sweetheart. Sometimes nature makes it difficult to get around, and you need to know how to ride a horse.”
By the set of his stubborn jaw, he would not back down. The last thing she wanted to do was pique his curiosity. If he ran a background check on her, she was in for a world of trouble. “Okay. Fine.”
Her on a horse. Quinn Lodge being curious. Things were going south…and fast.
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