4

CHAPTER 3

Anna was silent as Sweetrock came into view from the curve in the road that wound around the mountain. It wasn’t one of the more dangerous roads. The four-lane had heavy steel guardrails stretching along it, ensuring there were no winter accidents.

The road itself wasn’t as elevated as most. Where they couldn’t cut through the mountain, excavation had centered on cutting out the mountain instead.

The view wasn’t as incredible as many of the scenic routes were, but neither were they as dangerous as the one now named in honor of the Callahans who had died on it.

Callahan’s Peak, the sharp curve that had taken Crowe Callahan’s grandparents, and then his parents, uncles, and their wives, was a treacherous stretch of road when even the lightest of snows fell.

She wasn’t on that road, but the decisions she faced felt nearly as dangerous as that cliff had become. And she felt as though her situation was just as precarious.

What was she going to do now?

No doubt she wouldn’t be able to afford the exclusive, boutique-only underwear and gowns she preferred for a long time, she thought in rueful amusement.

She would be lucky, if she could make the money she had stretch to afford dinner on a daily basis until she began getting paid.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay with me?” Archer asked again as the Tahoe passed over the small stone bridge that spanned Corbin Creek and marked the last mile to the city limits.

He’d made the offer when he first picked her up.

She’d turned him down then, too.

“That’s okay, Archer.” Shaking her head, she stared straight ahead, loath for him to see the confusion and indecision she knew would show in her eyes.

Or the tears.

She was still battling those hated tears.

“Why?”

The question made her pause.

Turning to him, Anna called up the only defense she had against the emotions and fears weakening her.

Anger.

“You didn’t want me there two weeks ago, so why would you want me there now?” she asked him, the hurt from that night still lying inside her, brought fully to the surface by the rejection of her family.

“I didn’t say I didn’t want you there, Anna.” The golden brown of his gaze, the mix of colors reminiscent of an eagle’s, touched her as he glanced at her with predatory intent. “I said I wanted you to be certain, damned certain, of coming to my bed, before you made that decision.”

Her lips pursed bitterly. “You pushed it pretty far before making the offer. You could have at least let me orgasm to be certain, one way or the other, before rejecting me.”

She hadn’t stopped aching for him.

If the hurt building inside her weren’t so brutal, so filled with anger, then she would still be aching for him.

Hell, she was still aching for him. Aching to be held, to be touched—God, she was dying to live for a change rather than keep herself in some kind of abyss to prove her love for her family.

Archer didn’t say a word. Flipping on the turn signal, he took the turn that led into town rather than turning into the hotel parking lot as they passed it.

“I didn’t say I was certain I was ready to go to bed with you,” she reminded him pointedly.

“I have a guest room.” The shrug of his muscular shoulders indicated he didn’t care either way, but the heat in his gaze told another story. “You can stay there until you’re sure.”

“I heard you have a cat that loves to shred leather purses, too,” she retorted, sitting back in the seat and letting go of the seat belt latch she’d been prepared to unbuckle when the hotel came into sight.

“Hmm, only when he gets thrown out of his bed.” A grimace pulled at his lips as he glanced at her, his gaze filled with mirth. “Come on, don’t tell me you already heard about the cat?”

“And Marisa.” And how jealous she had been.

She’d wanted to scratch the other woman’s eyes right out of her face, and might have, if she’d known who she was. All Anna had heard was her name, as her grandfather’s maids laughed over the rumors of the other woman’s attempt to move in with Archer.

“Marisa’s not there, Anna. She left. And Oscar’s a big ole lap baby,” he told her as he glanced back at her with a grin. “He just wanted to keep his pillow at the foot of my bed. Marisa threw him out instead. She put his pillow in the guest room, and when he sat outside my bedroom crying she took him to the guest room and locked him in with her extra purses and her luggage.”

“While she occupied your bed,” she filled in, her jaw clenching as spikes of jealousy raged through her again. “I’m sure Oscar appreciated your loyalty.”

Archer chuckled.

“Actually, I was called out that night.” Rubbing at the side of his face, his fingers rasping over the closely cropped beard growing there, he glanced at her with devilish amusement. “She didn’t spend the first night in my bed the whole month she was there. Oscar would start squalling every time the bedroom door closed.”

She was in love with Oscar, that was simply all there was to it.

The remainder of the drive to his house was made in silence, and an uncomfortable one at that. Anna could feel a tension rising between them now that hadn’t been there in all the years he had vacationed with her family in the exotic locales they had chosen.

Bermuda when she was sixteen. That was the first year he had flown in with her grandfather.

He had been twenty-six. He’d just been discharged from the Marines for medical reasons. She remembered the cast he’d worn from his ankle to above his knee, and the jeans, cut short on that one leg, revealing the bronzed, hair-spattered flesh that seemed to fascinate her.

The next year, he’d sported a scar from his thigh to his ankle, thanks to the surgery and the metal pins that had fused the shattered femur in his thigh, and the tibia below his knee. The shattered bones, courtesy of an IED, had taken the military career he had been working on, but, as her father had explained to him the summer he turned twenty-seven, it didn’t have to destroy a very promising career in law enforcement.

Seven years later, he was on his second term in the sheriff’s office, and it didn’t appear he would have much competition for a third term.

Unmarried and unattached, he was considered the most sought-after bachelor in Corbin County and the counties surrounding it.

How often had she listened to her father and grandfather chuckle in amusement over the number of women chasing after Archer? Marisa was merely one in a long line of women who thought they could break Corbin County’s favorite stud, her grandfather had drawled in amusement, unaware that Anna had been on the balcony above them, her heart breaking at each amused observation made.

She’d loved him since she was a young girl. As a teenager, he’d been the man she measured every boy against and, as her interest in the opposite sex began maturing, it had been Archer she’d dreamed of kissing, touching, loving, and nothing over the years had changed that. And now, here she was, uncertain in the face of the needs she couldn’t seem to make sense of, the building pain of the desertion of her family, and the certainty that what was left of her heart would be lying in tatters, just as it had been left that morning.

“You’re too quiet,” Archer observed as he pulled into the sheltered parking pad next to the house he’d inherited from his parents.

“What do you want me to say?” Shaking her head at the bitterness she couldn’t seem to fight, she pushed open the vehicle’s door and jumped out.

“For starters? ‘I’m sorry, Archer, yes, I’ll let you practice all those manners your momma beat into your brain before her death and sit nice and still while you open my door and help me from the vehicle,’” he quoted with an edge of mocking censure.

Anna looked from the door to the seat as he rounded the front of the vehicle.

Drawing in a deep breath, she knew there was no way in hell to fight not just what she felt for him, but also the physical need for him.

It was mixed up with her need for this county, the need for her family, and the need to just belong.

“I’m sorry, Archer.” She sighed as he glared down at her. “Unlike you, my momma didn’t teach me all the finer points of responsible manners.”

“No, but I know damned good and well all those fancy girls’ schools you attended taught you that, and more,” he grunted as he gripped her arm and moved to lead her up the steps from the front curb to the porch.

“I’m not a child.” Pulling her arm free of his hold she stared up at him archly. “I know how to walk on my own.”

His touch did something to her that she had no idea how to combat. She wanted to throw herself in his arms, beg him to touch her, to take her, to drive her crazy with his kiss.

“Hell, woman, you’re going to drive me to drink.” He sighed as she moved up the steps, strode quickly across the small front yard, then up several more steps to the front porch.

“Do you really think I will?” Cocking her head to the side she watched as he stepped on the porch and unlocked the door.

“Well, let’s hope not,” he stated. “But if you do, it’s my fault alone, and none of yours.”

Stepping into the house, Anna looked around at the heavy dark wood of the furniture and matching dark curtains that kept the room to a bare glimmer of light that managed to spill into it.

As Archer stepped into the house and closed the door, Anna watched in complete wonderment as a huge, dark brown shadow stalked slowly from the hall. Body crouching in predatory mode, belly low to the ground, golden brown eyes, nearly identical to those of his owner, peered around the side of the couch.

Anna deliberately ignored him as she hoisted the strap of the backpack higher on her shoulder and followed Archer through the foyer to the sunlit kitchen at the far end of the large entryway.

“Oscar, be a good kitty,” Archer chastised the cat behind her as they entered the bright, roomy kitchen. A wide archway led to the living room, another to the dining room beside it, and then what appeared to be a study from the other side of the room.

“You can put your things down,” he told her as he moved to the coffeepot. “I’ll show you up to the guest room in a minute.”

After the inevitable interrogation, she guessed.

“I’m not in the mood for twenty questions, Archer,” she informed him. “This hasn’t been one of my better days, and I’d like to just lie around and feel sorry for myself for a while. I have a feeling you don’t consider your guest room pity-party central, though. Right?”

His gaze was like a heated caress against her flesh. A caress she had no choice but to pretend to be unaware of.

“What happened, Anna?”

The question hung between them as she dropped the backpack and purse at her feet.

She’d known he was going to ask. Archer should have been a prosecutor rather than a sheriff.

“What makes you think anything happened?” Wrapping her arms across her breasts, she turned and paced to the wide sliding glass doors that looked out to the private balcony beyond.

“Now, what would make me think anything happened?” he asked mockingly. “Could it have been the fact that you were walking down that damned mountain road like a little waif?”

Like a little waif—

“A waif is defined as a person, especially a child, who has no home or friends,” she murmured mockingly. “I actually had cause to have to define the word last year.”

She could hear the tears in her own voice, feel them tightening her throat.

“Anna, tell me what happened.” The gentleness in the demand almost broke the hold on her tears.

Lifting her eyes to his reflection as he moved to her, Anna watched as his hands, so large and broad, settled against her shoulders, his thumbs stroking gently beneath her nape.

“Do you know your mother called me?” he asked when she didn’t answer.

“What did she say?” Jerking her gaze to the reflection of his eyes, Anna felt her heartbeat becoming sluggish and heavy as her chest tightened painfully.

The sound of her mother’s tears earlier had cut at wound in her soul that still bled.

“She said your grandfather had thrown you out and you were walking alone toward Sweetrock.” The sound of his voice left her wondering if perhaps her mother hadn’t had much more than that to say.

Tightening her lips as they threatened to begin trembling once again, she said, “I refused to take the job in France that Jacques Dermond extended. That damned pervert.” By now she was barely holding back the tears as they filled her eyes. “I wanted to come home. I worked myself almost into exhaustion to cram eight years of classes into six, so I could come back home. So I could get to know my parents and grandparents.” She swallowed tightly, inhaling with jerky breaths. “I was supposed to be in college four years, Archer. Just four.” Outrage colored her voice. “Do you know John Corbin changed my major when I refused to go to France that summer?”

“I heard,” he sighed. “I’m sorry, Anna.”

“What did I do that was so wrong, Archer? That was so bad?” There was no holding back the pain that filled her. Her voice echoed with the consufion inside her. “What was so horrible about wanting to know family? The Slasher hasn’t struck out at family, only lovers.”

“Nothing that I could ever imagine.” He sighed heavily, his arms lowering to wrap around her stomach and pull her back against him. “I honestly believe they wanted nothing more than to keep you safe, sweetheart. They’ve gone about it the wrong way perhaps, but it was done out of love.”

A bitter laugh escaped her.

Turning from his reflection she faced him, a certain knowledge rising inside her.

“He never regretted losing his only grandson. Why would he regret losing one worthless granddaughter?”

“John Corbin has more regrets, I believe, than he admits to,” he stated as she pulled away from him.

The loss of his warmth, the loss of that feeling of not being so alone in the world, caused the battle with her tears to only become harder.

“It doesn’t matter.” Drawing in a deep breath, Anna forced herself to shrug it away. “None of it really matters now, Archer. And things are really no different now than they ever were, other than the fact that I now know they never really wanted me with them.”

All the years of vacations in exotic locales, and pushing her off on business associates when they couldn’t accompany her. The times she had cried and begged to come home, and the excuses they had given, all well-practiced and regretfully voiced.

If she had looked like a waif earlier, then it was because that was what she had always been, and that wasn’t how she wanted Archer to see her.

“This isn’t going to work—”

“You’re not leaving,” Archer spoke over her, his expression, his tone, suddenly more arrogant than before.

“Excuse me?” Crossing her arms over her breasts, she fought to push back the need for his touch and the arousal that look sent spearing through her traitorous body.

“You heard me, Anna.” Neither his expression nor his tone eased. “You’re not leaving. You can stay right here, where I’ll know you’re safe.”

Safe?

“From what?” Incredulity filled her. “Or do you think I need to be saved from my own poor choices just as my family does?”

He snorted at that. “I think leaving that house is the best decision you could have made.” His gaze became smoldering then, dark and intently sexual. “That doesn’t mean I’m going to let you spend the last penny you probably have on a hotel room, or that I’m going to let you forget what happened the night you nearly came on my fingers. I think I’m ready to collect on that promise now.”

She couldn’t breathe.

Anna felt her body heating instantly. Her breasts swelled, her nipples tightening and beginning to ache with the overwhelming need to be touched.

Her stomach clenched, her womb flexing as a surge of electric sensation raced through her clit.

“I don’t remember extending a rain check, Archer.” She stared back at the smoldering sensuality in his expression as though she had never seen it.

The truth was, that look of lust and hunger had her creaming her panties so furiously that it was all she could do to keep from throwing herself in his arms. To keep from begging him to finish what he started in that little grotto.

“Oh, baby, the rain check was there,” he countered. “In every drop of your response raining on my fingers—”

Her lips curled mockingly. “Every drop of my response?” She sniffed delicately, though her body ached in response to his words. “Does that line actually get you anywhere?”

Delight flickered in his gaze.

Oh, hell, what had she managed to ignite in his evil little brain?

He advanced on her, one predatory step at a time, as she fought to stand her ground—and failed miserably.

Anna felt her back flat against the refrigerator, his front pressing against hers, the hard wedge of his cock imprinting through their clothes to the aching depths of her womb.

Oh God, she needed to come.

“Actually, I was trying to be a good boy,” he murmured as he caught her wrists and stretched them over her head, securing them against the cool metal of the appliance with one hand.

The other pressed beneath her shirt, easing up until his palm cupped her breasts.

“You know how to be a good boy?” Anna widened her eyes in surprise. “Why, Archer, I’m certain I never recognized that quality in you.”

“I’m going to push my cock so deep inside that slick little pussy, Anna, that you’ll wonder how you ever breathed without the feel of me fucking you.”

Yep, there went her breath.

“But first.” His head lowered, his lips caressing the lobe of her ear as he spoke. “I’m going to spread those pretty thighs and eat you until you’re screaming with pleasure. Until you’re coming on my tongue and begging for my dick.”

“My, how confident we have become.” It was all she could do to push the words past her lips. “Were you going to do that before or after I put your balls up in your throat?”

She’d managed to slide her knee between his legs, lifting it until it rested against his balls.

He didn’t release her.

He grinned.

A slow, anticipatory grin that should have warned her.

Before she realized what he was doing he shifted, lifted her, edged his hips to the side and, before she could do more than take a breath, had her thighs at his hips and his erection grinding the seam of her jeans into her clitoris.

Oh, hell, it felt good.

The heat of him seemed to surround her.

The heat of his cock speared through the clothes separating them, causing her clit to swell further, to ache in need as her juices flowed from her vagina.

“Now, where are my balls going to be?” His voice caressed her senses, the hoarse, hungry timbre of it stroking against her senses.

“Shouldn’t you know?” She couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at her lips. “They are your balls, after all.”

His chuckle was one of amused surprise.

“So they are,” he murmured, his thumb stroking against the tight hardness of her nipple and sending waves of electric sensation surging to the sensitive bud of her clit. “I’d say before the day is over they’ll be pressed against the entrance of that snug little pussy as it tightens and milks my cock with your release.”

The tender bundle of nerves clenched and ached with painful pleasure. The need throbbing through it was a hunger she had no idea how to process.

The explicit earthiness of his words sent heat flashing through her, weakening any objections she might have pretended to have and leaving her weak against him.

“You’re all talk,” she said, panting as his fingers flicked open the buttons to her top. “You’ve been promising to teach me not to tease full-grown men since I was eighteen. I have yet to figure out why.”

Her thighs tightened at his hips, her hips rubbing against him, grinding against the thickness of his erection as it pressed tight and hard between her thighs.

“Oh, baby, I absolutely intend to show you exactly why pretty little girls such as yourself should never play games with full-grown men.”

The fingers of one hand tangled in her hair, tugging her head back as a gasp parted her lips. His lips covered hers, the wicked, heated stroke of his tongue licking against hers, pulling her into a surplus of pure sensory overload.

Her fingers fluttered against the breadth of his hard chest as he released her hands. She ached to touch him, to find some way to delve beneath his shirt to the heated skin beneath.

She had to touch him. She had to feel his flesh against hers, to stroke and caress his hard body. This was her fantasy. The need for it tormented her dreams with almost nightly consistency. She couldn’t escape it. She didn’t want to escape it.

She pushed past the material between the top two buttons to find the coarse hair-covered flesh beneath.

Heat met her touch.

The feel of his heart beating, thundering beneath her fingers, easily matching the beat of her own as his fingers found the latch of her bra between her breasts and flicked it loose.

Releasing her lips with a groan he pulled back, his head lifting, staring down at her as she felt the buttons of her light summer blouse being released.

The experience and sheer confidence in his touch wasn’t lost on her. Just as her own inexperience wasn’t lost on her.

Would he be surprised to learn she was a virgin?

Would he be pleased to learn she was a virgin?

“Release my shirt, Anna,” he growled as he pushed the shoulders of her blouse and the slim straps of her bra over her shoulders. The tug of the material pulled her arms down until he could pull it free of her and send the clothing fluttering to the floor. “Come on, baby, show me what you want.”

What she wanted?

All of him.

Lips parted, fighting to draw in breath as he brought her hands to the buttons of his shirt.

She fumbled with the first.

As certain as she had been that she could slip each rounded disc through its hole, she found herself fumbling.

An aching moan left her throat as his head began lowering, his hands cupping her breasts, lifting them.

“How fucking pretty,” he rasped, the wild, predatory color of his gaze lifting to hers, gleaming with hunger through the heavy veil of thick lashes. “I’ve dreamed of tasting your nipples, Anna. Of sucking on them until that soft, soft pink turns a pretty raspberry.”

“Archer—”

How was she supposed to unbutton his shirt when he—

“Oh God, Archer.”

His tongue licked over the hard tip of her nipple.

Flaming sensation washed through her body as pleasure surged like a rogue wave through her senses.

As she tried to catch her breath, to right her senses, his lips were surrounding it, his mouth covering the tight nipple and sending shafts of fiery pleasure surging straight to her clit.

Moving her hips, grinding her clit on the hard shaft pressing into it, nothing mattered but finding relief now. The pleasure was torturous. It tore through her, blazing a path of such indescribable sensation through her body that she forgot about getting his shirt off.

Head thrown back against the fridge, little moans of pleasure rising unbidden from her lips, Anna slid her fingers beneath the collar of his shirt as she flexed her nails against his flesh. Eyes closed, surrounded with lush, fiery sensation, pleasure clenched her womb with desperate contractions.

She needed.

Oh God, she needed so much more.

The feel of his mouth drawing on the violently sensitive nipple was excruciating pleasure. The rasp of his tongue as he tasted it, the rake of his teeth against it as he teased and tormented it, was like lashing whips of sizzling pleasure-pain.

Each suckling motion, each incredibly heated draw of his mouth had the need, the lashing flares of desperation rising, striking at her clit, tightening her womb with increased force.

“Fuck, baby,” the harsh growl came as his lips lifted from the needy flesh and his fingers slid to the rounded curves of her rear. “Come on, we’re not doing this here.”

As he moved to turn, her knees still gripping his hips, the radio at his hip began issuing rising static before the dispatcher came over the connection.

As she listened, Anna’s lips parted; the code, despite having given no information a layman could have deciphered, wasn’t hard for her to understand.

After hanging around Archer and his father for years, she had picked up enough to be able to follow the code.

Deputy Caine had found a victim’s vehicle, and the only one she knew of missing was the one belonging to Katy Winslow.

Drawing back, Archer pulled the radio slowly from the holster at his hip, his gaze still locked on hers.

“Sheriff Tobias en route,” he answered. “Inform Deputy Caine to remain on location.”

“Ten-four, Sheriff Tobias, will appraise Deputy Caine of status,” the dispatcher said as Archer moved back, allowing her legs to slide from his hips and hold her own weight.

The loss of his touch, of the warmth and pleasure she’d experienced in his arms, was a sensation she could only describe as painful.

“Don’t you leave,” he warned, the dark rasp on his tone, the dominant command in it sending a shiver racing up her spine.

“I’ll think about it.” Shrugging in apparent unconcern, she stared back at him as though she were going to do whatever the hell she wanted to do.

The sad fact was, she wanted to stay. She wanted to stay so much it was a hunger inside her. A hunger that burned inside her with a flame she knew she wouldn’t be able to deny.

“Yeah, you do that,” he growled as he snagged his hat from where he’d tossed it to the kitchen table and jammed it on his head. “And when you’re done thinking about it, I’ll be back.” He paused before turning away. “And you damned well better be here.”

Drawing in a deep breath she watched as he turned and stalked from the kitchen before moving quickly through the wide foyer and out the front door.

He slammed the door closed, but took the time to stop and lock the deadbolt.

Anna’s lips quirked before her fingers lifted to the swollen curves, a sensation of weakness flooding her womb and vagina at the memory of how they’d become swollen.

It was only then she realized she was still naked from the waist up. Her shirt and bra on the floor—

At least, they had been on the floor.

Looking around, her lips tightened to hold back her grin as she propped her hands on her hips and pretended to glare at the monster cat on the other side of the room.

He was lying on her shirt, the lace-trimmed strap of her bra hooked around his neck.

“Go ahead and keep it,” she murmured to the cat as though unconcerned. “Your owner can just buy me a new one.”

Hefting her bags to her shoulder she turned, found the staircase and headed up it quickly.

Of course, she was staying. At least, for now.

Just to see what happened.

Just to see if there was any chance of stealing Sheriff Archer Tobias’ heart.