Everyone has a Weak spot (6 page)

The Sheriff held up a hand. The chattering stopped.
Thank heaven for the cavalry!
On the heels of that thought, came another one.
How am I going to handle him until Renaud gets here?

Lorelei was glad that Renaud never had to feel pain like she did. His medallion protected him from pain and injury. Those things were doubled for her. It was always a struggle for her to think straight when she was injured because it hurt twice as much. Her medallion amplified everything: sadness, love, hurt, pain, fear, joy. Lucky for her, she could often avoid injury if she knew she was under attack.

“
Merci, madame
!” the Sheriff cut in sharply, halting the woman's jabbering. “Please give your statement to the officer over there.” He pointed to the policeman who was questioning onlookers. The effusive citizen scurried over to him. War lifted Lorelei and carried her to a chair in the shoe department a few aisles over.

His eyes were so angry. She knew he wasn't mad at her, though. Lorelei gave herself up to the comfort of his strong arms. She snuggled against his broad chest and enjoyed the safety she found there.

“What happened,
chéri
?” he asked gently in his rumbling molasses voice. “Did you see who hit you?"

What? What did he ask? Oh...

“No! Not really, I didn't actually
see
him. He was behind me. It all happened too fast,” she denied.

She was incapable of lying, but she could avoid answering questions.
He hadn't actually asked if she
knew
who had hit her or if she
might
know. Thank you, Jesus.

She continued to rest in his lap with her head against his chest. She'd been unsure about how she should behave around him since the party, but she wasn't worried about that now.

* * * *

Her response was a little hasty, he thought. She knows more than she's telling me.

“The man came up behind me. He seemed really strong,” she seemed to be trying to give him something to go on, but nothing at the same time.

“
Chéri,
it was most clever of you to douse him with that bleach. What made you think of that?” Maybe he could make her reveal what she was hiding. Somehow he just knew she was hiding
something
.

“I've gotten bleach in my eye before,” she winced as she smiled. A large bruise was blooming on her cheek. “They taught us at school to use what's at hand if anybody ever attacked us. We learned to defend ourselves at least a little.” She tried again to smile. She winced with every word. It was obvious she hurt.

War swore in Cajun and settled her in a chair. He strode away to find an ice pack.

There ought to be one somewhere in this damn store.

When he returned to her, Renaud had her by the upper arms and the two were whispering frantically to each other. War pulled out his notebook.

“
It was one of them! Papa told me to run!"
she said frantically to Renaud. War only knew that she was speaking in a foreign language.

He wondered what language that was while writing it down phonetically as best he could. He noticed Renaud's teeth lengthening.

“Papa?” Renaud asked, then, “
There will be more. We must be careful!
” He answered in the same language.

War found their use of a strange language very frustrating and very curious. He didn't hear everything they said to each other, and he didn't understand any of it but he knew he'd heard Renaud say, “Papa".

“Hey boy,” he growled at his nephew, “how'd you know about this?"

He also pointed at his own mouth. He was behind Lorelei so she wouldn't see. Renaud turned away. When he turned back, his teeth had returned to normal.

“News travels fast in a small town, Oncle,” Renaud replied smoothly.

His hand stole up to his throat. War saw the red charm reflect the light. Renaud watched closely as War tipped Lorelei's face and gently placed the ice pack on it. The young man's face tensed at her wince of pain.

“I'll drive her home when you're done,” he told his uncle.

War said nothing for a minute. He turned to Renaud. “Go get her another shirt while I finish taking her statement.” Renaud did as ordered.

He pulled the ice pack away and gently turned her face to his. “You gonna tell me anything new?” he asked, concentrating hard on her face. She shook her head from side to side. His hand cupped her face. His thumb smoothed a feather-light caress over her bruised cheek.

“Someday you gonna trust me,
chéri,"
he said softly.

He lowered his mouth to her parted lips and kissed her. It was a gentle, loving, lingering kiss that still had them both groaning when they broke apart.

“You better go with Renaud. I'll drop by tomorrow, no?” he kissed her forehead. “You be okay,
chéri?
” She nodded.

As War watched Renaud and Lorelei leave, he had the nagging feeling that he was missing something.

Chapter 8

At home, Lorelei wanted nothing more than some peace and quiet. She slipped into an oversized tee shirt emblazoned with her favorite duck and a baggy pair of shorts.

She looked around her apartment and sighed. She loved her little home. It was the only real home she'd ever had. She'd been dancing with the New York City Ballet and going from place to place since she was five years old.

The dance studio was separated from her living quarters by a short hallway. The living area was coming together nicely, even though she'd only been there a few weeks.

The main part of the room was open, with the kitchen and living room areas on the same level, and the bedroom area raised by a one-foot platform. She had a curtain drawn across the bedroom area for privacy but there were no other walls.

In the front corner of the room was her favorite part of this new home. It was a corner window that had glass on either side. It might have been a display window at one time. She had immediately made a wide, wedge-shaped bench and covered it with cushions and pillows.

She could lie in the window and watch all the activities below without ever being seen. It was like being invisible in a bubble.

Lorelei stretched out on her bench and rolled toward the window. She couldn't tell much about the building across the street, but she could watch the people coming and going from the bank and the shops below. She could even see a bit of the waterfront if she stretched.

She glanced at the building that faced her. The nearest window was directly across from her. A dark screen covered it so she couldn't see in. She didn't mind that; she didn't want to see in. She directed her gaze back to the pedestrians below.

Absently, she thought about the events of the day. One thing she'd begun to like more and more about living in a small town in the south was shopping. The selection wasn't as large, but she could shop leisurely and the other shoppers were not usually rude.

She'd been enjoying the experience when she'd heard her papa's voice. She wondered how it was that she could still hear him. He'd been dead for many years. She only knew that it must have something to do with the medallions. She still heard his warnings when she, or Renaud, were about to be threatened. Renaud never did.

Another thing that worried her was the Sheriff. She was finding herself more and more attracted to Warrick Martine. He made her feel beautiful, special, and sexy. The problem was, she knew he was a smart man.

Of course, she didn't want to be attracted to a stupid man. The dilemma she faced was that loving his touch and feeling safe in his arms could put herself, her brother, and maybe even him in serious jeopardy. She knew it was both his nature and his job to solve mysteries and to be suspicious.

While she admired that in him, it was a threat to her and her brother. In his zeal to find the truth, he could give the wrong people information and even help them get to Lorelei and Renaud. If he got in the way, she knew from past experience that he'd be killed.

She had to keep her distance from him. Somehow, she just had to. Maybe if she just kept telling herself that, she'd manage it, somehow. It would help if she knew when she might next cross his path.
Otherwise, it wasn't her fault, was it?
She yawned.

* * * *

War glanced up from the report he was working on and looked out the window. At first, he didn't see what was outside; he was trying to find the words to articulate what he was thinking.

After a second, War realized he was staring at his sweet little
chéri
. How had he not noticed that window before? He knew she couldn't see him since his window screen was so dark. There were no lights behind him, and he was a couple of feet from the screen.

He stared hard at her as she stretched in the window. What was that on her shirt? Could that be a purple duck wearing a cape? Before he could puzzle that one out, she reached out and grabbed a pillow and wrapped her arms around it.

She looked drowsy. Of course she was tired after the day she'd had. The bruise on her cheek was a stark reminder of her attack.

War gave up trying to work and stretched his long legs, propping his feet on the windowsill. She was so dainty.

Her scent had wrapped around him, even overpowering the bleach. Her beautiful, warm scent had found its way inside of him, making him feel he'd finally come home. He wanted to grab it and keep it for himself.

He continued to watch as she lifted a shapely leg and draped it over a pillow next to the glass. A big yawn later and she tucked a little fist under her chin and began to doze. He couldn't stifle the smile playing about his mouth as he watched her.

* * * *

Officer Beaudine spoke to the Sheriff a couple of times before he walked around beside his desk. The Sheriff was watching something good out the window. Beaudine walked over to take a look.

“She a good looker, ain't she? I hear she's a dancer, too. A limber woman like that be one fine
foutre
, eh, boss?"

War began to snarl. How dare the fool call
his
woman a fine fuck? He dropped his feet from the window ledge and advanced on the officer growling and snarling like an angry dog.

“OhmyGod! Boss, I'm sure sorry, I'm sorry, Boss! Nosiree, I didn't know you was partial to her! BOSS!” the last word was a scream because War had the man by the neck. “Boss,” Officer Beaudine choked.

War struggled to beat back his beast. He was a whisker away from ripping this man's esophagus out. One by one, War removed his fingers from Beaudine's throat. He stepped away and the officer dropped to his knees.

“Never look at that woman again. Never go near her. Stay away from my window,” he snarled gutturally at the hapless officer.

“Sure, Boss,” gasped Beaudine. There were just too many beautiful women Sheriff War didn't care a thing about. Any man would be a damn fool to sniff around the one woman it looked like he did care about. Beaudine wasn't a damn fool and he liked breathing.

“Go. I'll be down there in a minute!” War turned from the officer and listened as the poor man ran down the stairs.

He walked over to his window again. Lorelei shifted in her sleep and turned away from the window. He guessed he had a major possessive streak, after all. With a rueful smile, War turned and walked down the stairs.

Chapter 9

The next morning, when the Sheriff stopped in to check on Lorelei, she was teaching a class of pre-school children. She gave the little girls and boys a break, and they all rushed to their mommies for approval and praise.

Everyone tried to speak to Sheriff War but he gracefully excused himself, citing important business with the dance teacher. The attack she had suffered was common knowledge so the mothers nodded, letting the Sheriff lead Lorelei away.

War took her elbow and guided her to her apartment and inside. He closed the door firmly and turned to her, tipped her chin, and stared into her green eyes.

“How are you,
chéri?
” he rumbled. He stroked her face lightly, tentatively running his fingers over her colorful bruise.

“I'm okay, Warrick,” she said, feeling a little shy.

He enfolded her in his muscular arms and buried his face in her neck. He traced her racing pulse with his tongue. He nibbled his way up to the base of her jaw, and then he teased her lips open with his tongue.

He ran his tongue over her teeth, tugged at her lower lip, and swept her mouth again with his tongue. Her head was reeling. She was clutching at his shoulders just to remain standing. He pulled back and nuzzled her uninjured cheek.

She opened her mouth to tell him that she shouldn't do this with him. He cut her off.

“
Chéri
, you don't know what you do to me,” he groaned. “I gotta go outta town for a couple days.” He lapped at her throat under her chin. “Can I call you and tell you goodnight?” He looked at her, waiting.

“Of course you can.” She didn't seem to be in charge of her tongue. “I can't believe you'd want to.”
Where had that come from? She'd had every intention of putting distance between them.

“Oh,
chéri
! You don't know. I wanna do a whole lot more than talk on the phone with you. I'll take what I can get, though.” He kissed her eyes and the tip of her nose. “It'll be late. You don't mind if I wake you?” he asked again.

Wow! He really wanted to call her? He really liked her?

Still self-conscious, she said, “Please call me, Warrick. I'd like you to wake me.” He planted a hard, intense kiss on her open mouth.

With a devilish grin he said, “You'd better splash water on your face,
petit
. Looks like you been kissin’ somebody!” he tipped her a wink, laughing at her pink face.

How she hated her fair skin and her propensity to blush.

“Oh, I almost forgot, here's the report for yesterday. Not enough information to do much.” He gave her a hard look. “Maybe if I put you over my knee and spanked your bare little bottom, I'll get something to put in it?"

She looked at him shocked. “You wouldn't do that, would you, Warrick?” she breathed. She didn't know whether to be aroused or afraid.
I'll take afraid for a hundred, Alex...