Smoking Hot (9 page)

You never know when a fence will be down, Raine. Always take care of what belongs to you. If you don't, someday you might look around and it'll be gone.

“Sheriff Barnes tells me your father used to be the sheriff,” Emily said.

Her thoughts seemed so real that it was a shock to glance around the room and not see her father. He wasn't there. Dillon wasn't either. Maybe he never had been.

She sat in the chair facing them and raised her chin. “Until right before he died.”

“Do you resent someone taking his place?” Emily crossed her legs, leaning slightly forward.

She looked at the sheriff. “You mean Sheriff Barnes?”

He glanced down at the papers on his desk. Was he trying to stay neutral? Her father would never have taken a back seat at any interrogation.

“The thought never crossed my mind,” she told Emily. “Sheriff Barnes was Dad's lead deputy. He liked and respected my father. I wish my father was here, but he's not. No one will ever take his place, but if I had to choose someone to fill the slot he left open, I couldn't choose a better man than the one sitting behind that desk right now.”

Sheriff Barnes raised his eyes; a slight smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Your father was a good man, one of the best.” He leaned back in his chair, looking anything but casual. “I think we can leave Raine's father out of this inquiry.”

Emily shrugged as if to say she'd only been testing the waters. Raine had a feeling Emily wouldn't cut her much slack. She would do the same thing if their positions were reversed. She could respect the other woman for doing her job.

Emily reached into her pocket and brought out a piece of paper. She carefully unfolded then flattened it with the palm of her hand. “You're not very old to have garnered so much praise from your superiors.” She glanced up.

“I imagine we're close to the same age,” Raine said.

For a brief moment, Raine thought she caught a glimmer of humor in the woman's eyes, but Emily quickly looked down at the paper so Raine couldn't be sure. Not that it would matter. The agent would still do her job.

“You also have a list of reprimands.” She raised her gaze to meet Raine's. “You've taken a lot of chances at the risk of your own life.”

“I did what I had to do at the time.”

“Like what happened on the drug raid last December?”

How could someone not remove a crying child from a house where a drug deal was going down? If they stormed the place, bullets would fly. The child was in a room by herself. Easy in, easy out. Until one of the drug dealers opened the door to get his stash of drugs out of the closet.

“I removed the child from a hazardous situation.”

“The man sued for police brutality and almost won. The trial still cost the taxpayers, though.”

Raine cocked an eyebrow. “He tripped.” Could she help it if his windpipe landed against her fist? He hadn't been able to call out a warning and she'd removed the baby from the house unharmed.

The questioning continued until Raine thought her head would explode. After an hour had passed, Sheriff Barnes cleared his throat. “I think that's all we'll need for today.”

Emily looked as though she might protest, but she nodded instead. “Of course, you won't leave the area.”

Where would she go? “I won't go farther than the ranch.” She came to her feet.

“Oh, just one more question,” Emily said.

Raine was about ready to scream. “Whatever I can do to help.” Yes, her words sounded sharp, but Raine didn't care. Her head hurt and she was tired.

“You said you would do anything for your grandfather. Would you rob a bank for him?”

“Of course not!”

“Why was he there that night?”

“He wasn't.”

“Yet his handkerchief was found at the scene.”

“No.” Raine shook her head.

“Your grandfather's brand isn't an M with a leaning C beside it?”

“Yes, but…”

“The cleaning lady discovered the handkerchief in a corner near the vault, along with your notepad, but in your statement you said you were nowhere near the vault. Now, I'll ask you again, was your grandfather at the bank that night?”

Raine saw the looks as she left the sheriff's office. The kind where you turn and catch someone watching you as though you've sprouted two heads. When they realize you've caught them staring, they quickly turn away. As she strode toward the door she encountered more than one of those looks.

Except one person didn't turn away. Ethan. He acted as though he knew something she didn't. She met his stare head on. There was no way in hell she'd back down.

Another deputy spoke to him. Ethan turned away. A draw. So be it. She held her head high as she walked toward the door, but on the inside she shook like a leaf during a windstorm because the truth was starting to sink in. Dillon was an immortal. An angel. Half angel. If he was a freakin' angel why did he look at her as though he wanted to carry her to bed? And where the hell were his wings? She shoved on the door and marched out of the sheriff's office.

Weren't angels supposed to make a person's life better? Dillon had only screwed hers up. What little respect she'd gained from the other deputies was lost. She and Grandpa were suspects. They might as well have the plague.

“I was better off without him,” she muttered.

She stumbled. Dillon
really
was an angel, an immortal. No, half angel, half man. A nephilim. This wasn't really happening. She didn't believe in any other world except the one she lived in right now. Immortals didn't exist. But if Dillon didn't exist, that would make her and Grandpa both crazy. She needed to talk with Grandpa.

She climbed into the pickup and slammed the door closed, then tested to make sure it was secure. Everything was falling apart. The pickup, the ranch, her job. She'd like nothing more than to tell everyone to kiss her ass, but she didn't have that luxury. Quitting wasn't an option. They needed the money. She only hoped they cleared her as soon as possible. She shoved the stick shift into reverse and backed out of the parking space. If she and Grandpa had a guardian angel, then why the hell didn't he at least fix something?

Tilly's place was on the edge of town. A little country, a little city. She'd bought the big rambling Victorian not long after her husband passed away. The house was practically falling down. Her friends told her she was crazy when she used what was left of her husband's life insurance to restore it, turning it into a B&B.

“We're not suspects,” Raine told her grandfather after she went inside. “It's a formality.” Then she explained to Grandpa how it would look better if he stayed with Tilly. She didn't mention that his handkerchief and her notepad were later discovered near the vault. Raine told him she would take care of the stock. He finally agreed to stay put for now.

Tilly didn't seem to mind that Grandpa had picked up another stray. The golden retriever was beautiful. When Raine thought about it, other than her bandaged paw which was on the mend, the dog was well-groomed for an animal living off the streets. They should put an ad in the Lost and Found, she supposed, or they would be accused of stealing dogs next, even though the dog apparently didn't have a collar or tags. She was getting paranoid.

“Tilly, I don't suppose you have any of your peach tea. I'm really thirsty,” Raine said.

“Where are my manners? Of course I do.”

As soon as Tilly left the room, Raine turned to Grandpa. “Tell me everything you know about Dillon.”

Grandpa wore a grim expression. “I should've never asked him to watch over you. He's caused us a whole heap of trouble. I couldn't very well ask for references, though.” His eyes narrowed. “I 'spect he's been back if you're asking about him.”

She studied his face. “You really did see him?”

“Seen him, talked to him. He seemed nice enough. He's not too good at answering prayers, though. I caused you more problems. I'm real sorry 'bout that.”

She hugged him close. “Don't you be sorry about anything, Grandpa. We'll get through this.”

He patted her back. “That we will. And if Dillon bothers you, just send him to me and I'll set him straight. And next time I pray, I'll ask for a real angel.”

“Maybe you should let me handle things from now on,” she gently told him.

“I suppose you're right. You always take care of everyone. I wanted to help, but I…”

She stepped back and looked him in the eyes. “You did what you thought was best. Dillon is the one who messed up, not you. We'll get through this like we've gotten through everything. Okay?”

He paused, then nodded, but his smile wobbled.

Before she'd left, Tilly pulled her aside and warned her some of the town was starting to come to the wrong conclusion about her involvement in the robbery. On the drive back to the ranch, she wondered how someone could go about killing an immortal. Dillon had screwed up her and Grandpa's life and it looked as if Tilly was next on his list. When Raine mentioned asking the sheriff once more if Grandpa could go home so Tilly's reputation wouldn't be ruined, Tilly would hear none of that kind of talk. She didn't give a hoot what people thought.

Neither did Raine, but it added another mark against Dillon and there were already plenty of marks. From the moment she met him. There was something about his eyes. She was certain he'd used some sort of magic. How else could he get her gun?

A pothole that almost swallowed the truck jarred her out of her thoughts. She paid more attention to the road and missed the next ones. By the time she pulled up in front of the ranch and went inside, she was in a pissy mood.

“Dillon!” She slammed the door closed. “I know you can hear me!” She stopped in the hallway and listened. Nothing. “What? Do you only show up when you decide it might be fun to screw with a mortal's life?”

She strode into the living room, flipping on the light switch. The room was empty. That figured. He wasn't about to show himself because he might have to answer for all the problems he'd caused her. She whirled around and stopped, her breath catching in her throat. Dillon casually leaned against the door frame. For a moment she couldn't say anything.

“Did you need something?” he drawled.

“Yes, I need you to get the hell out of my life!”

“Okay.” He closed his eyes and vanished. One minute he was standing in front of her, and in the next, he was gone.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. He'd left. Disappeared. Vanished. Poof. She resisted the urge to reach up and rub her eyes.

Dammit! She hadn't told him what she thought about him screwing up her life. “Dillon!”

“Did you miss me?” he asked, once again leaning against the door frame. His grin was slow and disarming.

At least it would be if she wasn't ticked off. “No, I didn't miss you. I wanted to tell you how much I despise you. Grandpa and I were making it just fine before you showed up.”

“He asked for my help,” he reminded her. “You weren't doing as well as you think.”

“We were doing a lot better than we are now.”

“True, but you did bring some of this on yourself.”

“Me!”

“I warned you there would be a robbery, but you didn't believe me.”

“Why should I believe a stranger?”

“Because I don't lie.”

She caught a slight hesitation and pounced. “Never?”

He shrugged. “Almost never.”

“And you call yourself an angel.”

“Nephilim. I'm only half angel.”

She glared at him, trying to think of something else she could accuse him of doing. She finally blurted, “You kissed me.”

He shook his head. “No,
you
kissed
me
.”

Her body stiffened. “I did not!”

He straightened. A moment of panic washed over her as he sauntered closer, but she refused to back off and merely raised her chin. He stopped barely a foot away from her. He didn't say anything.

“I thought you were dying.” She crossed her arms. “You'd taken a bullet meant for me. It was all a lie.”

“I did take a bullet.”

Her eyes narrowed. Was he laughing at her? “You're an immortal.”

“I can still feel pain, and nephilim can die.”

“But not from a bullet,” she countered.

He shook his head. He wasn't wearing his hat and a lock of hair fell forward. She tried to think of something to say but couldn't. He confused her, and he was standing too damn close. “But you weren't dying,” she finally stuttered.

“No.”

“Then why did you ask me to kiss you?” Let him explain that! “You let me think I was granting your last wish!”

“I think you're beautiful and I wanted to feel your lips against mine. I wanted to see if you tasted as sexy as you look. I wasn't disappointed.”

“You screwed up my life.”

“I'll fix it.” He brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckles. His fingers lingered, massaging her earlobe. “Tell me you enjoyed the kiss as much as I did.”

Her eyes met his. She couldn't look away. He had the most beautiful eyes. She thought they were blue, but now she could see they were more a deep purple, fathomless. She could get lost in them.

From somewhere far off she heard his voice. “Tell me you don't want me to kiss you right now.”

Before she could lie and say that was the last thing on her mind, his lips lightly brushed across hers. She jumped. His hand slipped to the back of her neck and began to massage.

“Shh. I won't do anything you don't want me to.”

That was the problem: right now she wanted him to do a lot more. It had been a long time since she'd had sex. For a while she'd sworn off men. Too many complications. They always wanted more than she was willing to give. Like a relationship. She didn't want the problems that came with something more permanent than a few dates. But this was different.

His tongue slipped inside her mouth and caressed. A shiver of excitement trembled over her body. His hand moved lower, kneading the tense muscles that knotted her back. She sighed. Pure relaxation began to consume her. Her hands wound around his neck and pulled him nearer.

His hands glided beneath her shirt, unhooking her bra with one snap of his fingers. She gasped, but before she could move away his fingers brushed across her nipples, then lightly squeezed. Heat shot downward, causing an ache to settle between her legs.

When he ended the kiss, she could barely catch her breath. “You'll leave after you fix the mess you made out of my life, right?”

He hesitated, then said, “I won't have a choice.”

“No strings attached?”

“This will never be permanent. I'm sorry I can't give you more.”

He started to step away, but she pulled him back. “I'm not.”

Dillon wasn't a real man. He was a nephilim. There wouldn't be any strings attached. As soon as her name was cleared, he would leave. Sex without worrying about making a relationship work was exactly what she needed right now. Besides, he owed her.

She kissed him long and hard. He tasted wonderful, musky and like the woods after a rain, and hot, like a fire out of control. She tugged at his shirt until she was pulling it over his head. He was all tanned, hard, sinewy muscles and sexy ridges. She ran her fingers over his abdomen. He drew in a deep breath. Her hands scraped upward, thumbs pressing against his nipples. He groaned. She liked the way she made him feel. It was all about control with her. She enjoyed taking it and keeping it, and she wasn't about to give it up now.

She reached for the buttons on her shirt. He stopped her from pushing the first one through the hole. “Wait.”

“What?” she cried with frustration.

“I have a gift.”

“I don't need candy or flowers.”

“You don't understand. It's something I do. I can mesmerize you with my eyes. It usually doesn't last this long and most of the time I don't realize I'm doing it. What you're feeling might not be real.”

“I know exactly what you did with your eyes. It was obvious the second time.”

He frowned. “It was?”

“Yes, but that's not why I want to have sex with you. I want it because I need it.” She quickly unbuttoned her shirt and let it fall to the floor along with her bra. “Do you understand?”

His fingers trailed between her breasts, circling one nipple, then the other before moving downward. “I'm getting an idea.” He swirled his finger around her navel, fingers tickling, moving back and forth.

He definitely understood what she wanted. She slid her fingers beneath the waistband of his jeans. He unsnapped hers, then tugged the zipper downward, pushing them over her hips until they slid the rest of the way to the floor and she kicked out of them. When she would've unbuttoned his, he took her hands and moved them back to her sides, shaking his head.

“I fantasized about what you would look like without clothes.”

He met her eyes and she could feel the warm tingles begin from that one mesmerizing look, but this time was different. She knew the power he had, but rather than run from it, she let his gaze sweep slowly over her, relishing the warmth of his stare as it touched her breasts, grazed her ribs, and slid over her abdomen. She gasped when the waves of heat began to build between her legs, the flames licking over the pale blue silk of her bikini panties. Her breathing was labored short little puffs. If he could do that with his eyes, she could only imagine what he would be able to do with his hands.

“You look better than I could imagine,” he said and pushed the first button through the hole of his jeans.

Raine couldn't look away as he pushed another one through, then another and then the last. He toed off his boots. The material of his jeans parted and she saw a trail of dark hair until it disappeared. Her mouth watered.

He bent and removed his socks, then straightened. In one swift motion, he shoved his jeans and boxers down, unleashing the man. His erection was thick. Her hand itched to take him, to guide him inside her. When he sauntered nearer, she couldn't resist and ran her finger over the soft tip, massaging the drop of moisture across the head of his penis. He jerked, sucking air.