Praise for Kimberly Raye’s Love at First Bite miniseries

“If you love cowboys and vampires, then Kimberly Raye’s Love at First Bite series is for you.”

—The Romanorum

“Let’s just put this out there … the sex was hot, incredibly hot. Dare I say Blazin’ hot.”

—Bite Club on The Braddock Boys: Travis

“Kimberly Raye’s A Body to Die For is fun and sexy, filled with sensual details, secrets and heartwarming characters—as well as humor in the most unexpected places.” —RT Book Reviews

“Dead Sexy by Kimberly Raye is funny and exciting—with great sex, characters and plot twists.”

—RT Book Reviews

“A laugh-out-loud, sexy, heartwarming story and a wonderful heroine.”

—RT Book Reviews on Drop Dead Gorgeous

“I loved the sexual tension.”

—Night Owl Reviews on The Braddock Boys: Brent

About the Author

USA TODAY bestselling author KIMBERLY RAYE started her first novel in high school and has been writing ever since. To date, she’s published more than fifty-eight novels, two of them prestigious RITA® Award nominees. She’s also been nominated by RT Book Reviews for several Reviewers’ Choice awards, as well as a career achievement award. Kim lives deep in the heart of the Texas Hill Country with her husband and their young children. She’s an avid reader who loves Diet Dr Pepper, Facebook, chocolate and alpha males. Kim also loves to hear from readers. You can visit her online at www.kimberlyraye.com or follow her on Twitter.

Dear Reader,

I’m thrilled to be back with the latest and final installment in the sexy BRADDOCK BOYS series! It’s Colton Braddock’s turn, and believe me, he’s more than ready. Once the brave, courageous leader of the most notorious Confederate raiding group during the Civil War, Colton is now a vampire tormented by his past. He’s spent over one hundred and fifty years blaming himself for the massacre that killed his son and destroyed his home. No more. He now knows who the real killer is and he’s determined to have his revenge once and for all.

His plans are side-tracked, however, when he meets Shelly Lancaster, a strong-willed deputy sheriff with her own agenda. Shelly is tired of reading about hot, mind-blowing sex. She wants to experience it for herself, and so she’s on a manhunt to find the perfect partner. When Colton walks into the Skull Creek Sheriff’s Office, she knows in an instant that he’s just the cowboy for the job.

I hope you’ve enjoyed riding along with the Braddock Boys these past few books. While I’m saying goodbye to Skull Creek and my beloved cowboy vampires for now, I’ll be back in 2013 with a new series featuring the small town of Lost Gun and a trio of wickedly hot brothers named after the most notorious outlaws to ever blaze through Texas!

I love to hear from readers. You can visit me online at www.kimberlyraye.com or write to me c/o Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Toronto, ON M3B 3K9, Canada, or connect with me on Facebook.

Much love from deep in the heart!

Kimberly Raye

The Braddock Boys: Colton

Kimberly Raye

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to all of the wonderful

readers who love the Braddock Boys as much as I do.

You make writing the best job in the world!

1

IT WAS OFFICIALLY the worst moment of her romantic life.

Shelly Lancaster read the singles ad printed in yesterday’s edition of the Skull Creek Gazette and the Red Bull she’d guzzled at lunch churned in her stomach.

SWF seeks single, adventurous, incredibly sexy male for hot, mind-blowing sex (no serious relationship wanted). One night only. Instant chemistry a must. For a really good time, email: shellylancaster@skullcreeksheriff.com.

WTF?

Her chest tightened and the air rushed from her lungs. No. No, no, no, no, no!

Why had she gone to all the trouble of setting up an anonymous email account—hookmeup@hotmail.com—when no one had even bothered to use it?

Panic bolted through her and she fought for a breath. At least now she understood why her Monday had been straight out of an episode of the Twilight Zone.

She should have known something was up. She’d felt the familiar twinge in her gut yesterday. That instinct telling her that something was about to happen.

Something bad. Really bad.

She’d assumed it had something to do with the new prisoner that had been delivered on Saturday. The entire office was on pins and needles because of Jimmy Holbrook. At only twenty-three, he’d built quite a reputation for prison escapes. He’d waltzed out of all four of the facilities where he’d been housed and the Texas Rangers were determined he wouldn’t walk out of number five. Hence the transfer to a maximum security prison in El Paso. But in the rush to get him under lock and key at an adequate facility, there had been a few mistakes with his transfer paperwork. Which meant that Jimmy was currently locked up in a back cell awaiting an armed escort to take him the last leg of his trip. Until the paperwork got sorted out, he and the Texas Ranger parked outside his cell were stuck right here in Skull Creek. Hence the churning in her stomach.

Or so she’d thought.

She eyeballed the extra-large container of chocolate body paint sitting on the corner of her desk, a big red bow sitting on top. Justin Wellborn, one of the hottest cowboys to ever two-step across the floor down at the local dance hall, had dropped off the stuff just ten minutes ago and asked her to go back to his place tonight. Before that had been Will Freeman who’d brought a basket of scented massage oils. Kip Walker had come bearing edible underwear and some guy she hardly knew, who worked down at the Dairy Freeze, had shown up with fuzzy zebra-print handcuffs.

They’d all wanted one thing.

Because they thought she wanted one thing.

Because the ad that was supposed to protect her identity and list only an anonymous email address had printed the real deal, complete with her name.

Her name.

This was not happening.

“Big plans tonight?” Sheriff Matt Keller’s voice slid into her head and scrambled her thoughts.

She slapped the newspaper closed and whirled. “Just the usual,” she blurted, scrambling for a semi-plausible explanation. Anything better than the truth. All she had planned was a glass of wine, a hot bubble bath and a few hours curled up on the couch, watching Bud & Sissy fall madly in love in Urban Cowboy. “I’ll probably clean my gun or watch whatever game’s on ESPN.”

“Must be some game.” His gaze slid past her to the risqué gifts sitting atop her desk.

“This?” She waved a hand and played on the off chance that Matt had yet to see the personals. “This stuff is for a friend of mine.” Her brain raced. “It’s for her, um, party. A bachelorette party.” Hey, it sounded better than what was really happening. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your number-one deputy is sexually frustrated and trying to break a three-year fast.

Ugh. Matt had enough to worry about. On top of Holbrook, the town’s annual chili cook-off and roping festival started in less than three days. That meant parking issues, drunken festival-goers and lots of litter. She didn’t want to add hormonal female to the list.

He eyed the items one more time and smiled. “Good for you. It’s nice to see you’re having a little fun.”

His choice of words punched a nerve and she stiffened. Shelly recalled going to bed hungry one too many nights because her mother had been too busy having fun to bother making dinner or earning a steady paycheck. Fun had its price and it wasn’t one she was willing to pay. She liked having food in her refrigerator and money in the bank and, even more, peace of mind.

“I’m just collecting the stuff,” she blurted, sweeping an arm across the desk and stuffing it all into her top drawer. “I’m not actually going to the party. I’m on duty.” She slammed the drawer shut. “So, um, what time does your flight leave in the morning?” she asked, effectively changing the subject.

“Seven a.m.” He glanced at his watch as if he’d just remembered something. “Hells bells, I need to get out of here. I promised Shay we’d have a candlelit dinner to kick off tomorrow’s trip.”

Which was why Shelly was in this mess in the first place.

Instead of worrying about Holbrook or the chili cook-off, Matt was leaving everything to Shelly and running off on a romantic getaway with his new wife.

The man had fallen head over boot heels and was now living the proverbial happily-ever-after. That coupled with the fact that Shelly’s younger sister had just spent the past six months planning the biggest wedding the town had ever seen, had forced Shelly to re-evaluate her own love life.

Or lack of one.

She was twenty-nine years old. She’d never been married. No kids. No pets. She spent most Saturday evenings either on duty or catching up on paperwork, determined to make something of herself. To be the best. To be someone.

Anyone other than the timid little girl who’d hidden under the bed while her mother had spent her nights down at the local honky-tonk. Shelly had been so scared back then. So helpless.

Never again.

She could outrun, out-throw, outshoot and out arm-wrestle any deputy in the department. With the exception of Buck Kearney, of course, but he had a good two hundred pounds on her. She’d even won Best Throwing Arm during the department’s annual softball tournament last year thanks to a little bit of skill, a lot of luck and the fact that the current champion had come down with a stomach bug from eating too many ribs. She was strong-willed. Competitive. Tough. Fearless. At least that’s what everyone thought and Shelly had always been more than happy to perpetuate the myth.

Until now.

She wasn’t ready to put on her Grandma Jean’s lace wedding dress and waltz down the aisle just yet, however. One day maybe. Hopefully.

But right now, she had too many responsibilities. She was on the fast track to becoming the first female sheriff of Skull Creek. Matt was retiring in six months to run a bed and breakfast with his new wife, and Shelly wasn’t letting anything derail her between now and then.

She didn’t want to shed her image and fall in love. She wanted to make love. While she’d had a few sexual encounters over the years—in the backseat of Mikey Hamilton’s Chevy back in high school and under the bleachers with Casey Lewis during rookie training—they’d been few and far between. She’d had a very limited supply when it came to sex, and she’d never had really good sex.

She wanted one night with a man who stirred the pulse-pounding, do-me-right-now-or-I’ll-die chemistry she’d only read about in her favorite romance novels. A few blissful hours to satisfy her starved hormones so that she could stop fantasizing and get back to work.

Not that she was broadcasting that info to the world. She had an image to maintain, which was why she’d placed an anonymous ad in the local singles section. Or so she’d thought. Her plan had been to find a man privately—preferably one from any of the surrounding small towns that subscribed to the Gazette—and live out the very explicit fantasies heating up her lonely nights. She would have been able to get it out of her system without any of the locals being any the wiser.

Another glance at the paper and her stomach twisted.

“Don’t forget the security specialist coming tomorrow for the upgrade.” Matt’s voice pushed past her pounding heart.

“Tell me again why we need a security upgrade?”

“Because if we had an upgrade, we wouldn’t have a Texas Ranger babysitting our prisoner.” He motioned to the door leading to the holding area. “The clearance paperwork should be sitting in my email first thing in the morning. Just give him a tour and he’ll take care of the rest,” Matt tossed over his shoulder as he headed for the door.

The minute the knob clicked, she snatched up the newsprint and signaled to the assistant deputy sitting at a nearby desk.

“Keep an eye on things,” she told the man.

“Me?” Bobby Sparks glanced behind him. He was fresh from the academy and the newest addition to the sheriff’s department. Like any good rookie, Bobby didn’t so much as wipe his butt without asking permission first. “You’re giving me my first assignment?”

Shelly put on her most intimidating face. “Keep your eyes open and don’t let anyone past the front desk while I’m gone or else Ranger Truitt will tear me a new one. The holding area is on complete lock-down until Holbrook moves on.”

“I’m on it.” Bobby’s grin spread from ear to ear as he bounced to his feet. “I’ve been doing simulated fire fights on my Xbox at home. I’m ready for anything.”

Oh, boy.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes.” Shelly stuffed down the worry that roiled inside of her when Bobby paused to check his gun belt. “I’ll be on my radio if you need me. And remember, no visitors in the holding area. No one,” she reminded him. He could handle this. And even if he couldn’t, Beauford Truitt was parked outside Holbrook’s cell keeping watch on things.

Everything would be okay.

She tamped down her worry and focused on the task at hand—killing the ad before it became the talk of the entire town.

And then she pushed through the door and headed for the Skull Creek Gazette.

“IT’S JACKSON’S fault,” declared Minerva Peters, the editor-in-chief of the newspaper. “He’s our typesetter. Been with the paper going on forty years now. He doesn’t see as well as he used to since the cataracts set in. But don’t you worry—” Minerva gave her an apologetic smile “—we’ll refund your money right away.”

“I don’t want a refund. I mean …” Shelly’s mind raced. “I don’t want a refund because it’s not my money. I placed the ad for a friend. You were supposed to use her email, not mine.”

Realization seemed to dawn and Minerva smiled. “But of course you did. I knew something was funny about this whole thing. Now if the ad had asked for a female, that I could understand.”

“Excuse me?”

Minerva waved a hand. “Don’t be shy, honey. I’m the eyes and ears of this town. I know everything. Besides, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. You never date. You go around dressed like this all the time.” She waved a hand at Shelly’s uniform. “And you beat up Henry Rogers at the town picnic last year. You obviously butter your bread on the other side just like my niece over in Houston. Why, she came out of the closet just last year and settled down with a cute little hairdresser. Gets free highlights now and everything.”

She was not hearing this.

Shelly drew a deep breath and tamped down the anxiety ebbing through her. “First off, this is my uniform. I have to wear it. And I didn’t beat up Henry. I beat him at arm wrestling, and it was only because he had a pinched nerve.” She wasn’t sure why she blurted out the truth, but there was just something about the way the woman looked at her—as if she had her completely figured out—that made Shelly want to prove her wrong. “I like men,” she heard herself say. “A lot. Just so you know.”

“Sure you do.” The woman winked as if to say “It’s our little secret. “

All the better, a voice in her head whispered.

That same voice had kept her from telling the entire world that she didn’t need the basket of massage oils that had been left on her desk. Not because she wasn’t interested in those things, but because she already had her own. She also had chocolate body paint and a pair of fuzzy handcuffs. Pink ones, as a matter of fact. Sure, she’d yet to use them. But still. There was more to Shelly Lancaster than just the rough and tough exterior that everyone saw. She was soft on the inside. Feminine. Just like any other woman.

Just like her mother.

She drop-kicked the thought and eyed Minerva. “I don’t want a refund. I want a retraction explaining the mistake.”

“No problem. I’ll get right on it.”

“Great.” Relief ballooned in Shelly’s chest. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”

“Next week,” Minerva added, her voice like a pinprick which quickly deflated any relief Shelly had been feeling, “in our very next issue.”

“But we need to fix this today.” Panic bolted through her. “Now.”

Minerva shrugged. “We’re an itty bitty publication, honey, with a piss poor circulation. Sure, we deliver to the surrounding towns, but their populations are small. We can’t afford to put out more than one issue every Sunday.”

Which meant the paper would be out there for the world to see for five more days. Her stomach dropped and her eyes burned.

She blinked frantically because no way was she going to start bawling in front of Skull Creek’s biggest gossip. Talk about the kiss of death.

“In the meantime,” the woman went on, “I wouldn’t worry. Hardly anybody is reading print anymore what with that damned internet. Why, Henry Jenkins orders five copies just to line his parakeet cages. And if somebody does actually read it, I’m sure they’ll realize we made a mistake.” Minerva shook her head. “To think you placed an ad like that?” The woman shook her head. “Why, it’s plum crazy.”

“It’s not that crazy,” Shelly blurted before she could stop herself. “I mean, somebody obviously believed it, otherwise I wouldn’t have these.” She held up the handcuffs as if to say aha!

Minerva waved a hand. “There are always a few crazies in the bunch. Testimony to the fact that when men get horny enough, they start to lose brain function. Once those desperate souls open their eyes and realize who they’re dealing with, they’ll run the other way, honey. Guaranteed.”

Gee, thanks.

Shelly ignored the unexpected wiggle of regret and focused on the all-important fact that Minerva was right. No man in his right mind would believe the ad was for real. For the few who did, she would simply set them straight.

News of that would spread well before the newspaper could print a retraction.

A day or two and it would all be over.

She knew that. She just wished it didn’t bother her so much.

2

HE WAS WATCHING her again.

Not her, in particular, of course. It was the sheriff’s newly arrived prisoner that really got his blood pumping. He’d been hanging around the office for the past three nights now. Watching. Waiting. The female deputy was just an added bonus.

He eyed the beige SUV as it pulled up to the curb out front. The door opened and the driver slid out from behind the wheel. The now familiar brunette walked around the nose of a brown and white Ford Explorer and strode up the steps of the two-story brick building.

The sweet, succulent scent of ripe cherries drifted through the open window of his black Ford F250 pick-up parked across the street. His nostrils flared, his gut clenched and his stomach hollowed out. A wave of awareness rolled through him and he shifted on the leather seat.

It was a crazy-ass reaction considering she barely looked female with her hair stuffed up under a stiff cowboy hat and her body hidden beneath the drab beige uniform. Reacting to her was friggin’ certifiable.

If he’d been your average cowboy.

But Colton Braddock had stopped being a run-of-the-mill wrangler the day he’d drawn his last mortal breath. He was a one-hundred-and-fifty-year-old vampire who fed off both blood and sex, and he was hungry.

Starved.

He watched her pull open the door. Her trousers pushed and pulled, outlining her perfect ass for one delicious moment. His gut tightened. A shiver worked its way up his spine. The uniform, the hard facade, the back-the-hell-up attitude were all just a front for what lay beneath—a soft, curvaceous, passionate woman. Call it instinct. A sixth sense. A vampire’s prerogative. Whatever. He knew and damned if it didn’t work him into a frenzy.

Heat zig-zagged through his body and his heartbeat kicked up a notch. He drew a deep breath. Not that it helped, but old habits died hard, even after an entire century.

Easy.

The command echoed through his head and he drew another breath. And another. While the oxygen didn’t sustain him the way it once had, the repetitive motion helped draw his focus away from the demanding need. Watching her was one thing. Touching? Not a chance in hell.

He had plenty of bagged blood stashed back in his suitcase at the motel. More than enough to see him through the next few days while he was stuck in Skull Creek, Texas. While it didn’t taste half as good as the fresh stuff, he could make do. He would make do. The last thing he needed—the very last thing—was to get sidetracked by a woman. Even one that smelled better than a prize-winning cherry pie fresh from the oven.

Not no, but hell no.

He’d waited too long for this moment.

For revenge.

The door rocked shut behind her and he forced his attention to the plain brick building.

The jail was a throwback to the olden days with its steel bars on the windows and doors. Appearances aside, he wasn’t naive enough to think that the place hadn’t been modernized over the years. The sheriff himself was a good friend of Colton’s younger brother. The man was also a werewolf. While weres were few and far between and usually at odds with most vampires, Matt Keller was a good man. Trustworthy. He often joined forces with the handful of vampires in town when needed, just as he’d done now.

Once he’d heard the reason for Colton’s visit, he’d been more than happy to brief him on the security features that had been installed over the past decade. An automated lock system. Full camera set-up. Silent alarm. While the local jail wasn’t a long-term facility, it was more than adequate to house the average prisoner.

Career criminal Jimmy Holbrook was a completely different story.

The man had been convicted of armed robbery this time and was now sitting inside a cell awaiting transfer to a maximum security prison in El Paso to serve out his sentence.

But it wasn’t his crime that had him featured in every newspaper this side of the Rio Grande and a shitload of YouTube videos. It was the fact that he had a “knack” for escaping. At least that’s what the media called it.

Colton called it an accomplice.

The sun had set a half hour ago. The overhead spotlights had kicked on, bathing the steps in a soft yellow glow. The place seemed calm. Peaceful. Quiet.

Too quiet for a vampire hell-bent on rescuing her only kin.

While his three brothers felt certain Rose Braddock would come to help her one and only descendant, just as she had time and time again since his first arrest at the age of fifteen, Colton wasn’t so sure. She’d turned her back on family once before.

He could still see the billows of black smoke on the horizon and smell the putrid stench of ashes and burned cattle flesh. It had been one hell of a homecoming after four years raiding for the Confederacy. He and his brothers had given Quantrill and his boys a run for their money way back when, but the effort had been wasted. The South had lost and the Braddock boys had headed home to the Circle B to pick up where they’d left off.

He’d ridden up ahead of the others to find what was left of his beloved home, the buildings a smoldering pile of charred wood, the livestock either scattered or dead. And the people …

His throat tightened and bitterness worked its way up. A half-dozen ranch hands had died that night, burned beyond recognition. And the foreman. And his mother. His son. His wife.

Or so he’d thought.

But Rose was alive.

Guilty.

While he had no idea if she’d started the fire herself, he knew she’d played a part. Thanks to his younger brother Cody, they all knew the truth now. Rose hadn’t died that night. She’d fled the scene with another man and left them all to perish.

But Colton and his brothers hadn’t burned to death. They’d been saved by a vampire, turned just in the nick of time. Garrett Sawyer had happened on the scene by chance and given them another shot at life.

At revenge.

Ironically, he’d bestowed the same gift on Rose. Unknowingly, of course. The ancient vampire never would have turned her if he’d known that she’d practically murdered her family. When he’d run across her a few miles from the scene, he’d thought her and her partner an innocent couple ravaged by savage Indians.

He’d been wrong.

The past stirred along with images from that night. The burning house. A frantic horse. The limp body of a small boy, his face charred so badly he was unrecognizable.

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. The metal bent, giving way beneath his strength until his prints were permanently indented.

It had been so long since he’d thought of his son. Too long. But with the memory came the pain and so he tucked it back down deep until the pressure inside of him eased. His grip relaxed, but he didn’t let go.

Not of the steering wheel, or the anger. He held tight, feeling the heat as intensely as the hunger that now lived and breathed inside of him.

He’d lost everything because of Rose. She was a liar. A traitor. She’d sold him out, which was why his pride hesitated to believe that she would show up now in support of her last living relative. But his head … His head knew the truth.

The pattern was clear. Every reported escape mentioned a visit by a mysterious redhead just prior to the breakout. It had to be her.

And if she’d come all those other times, she would come now.

In the meantime …

His gaze shifted to the front window. Through the bars, he watched the deputy pull off her hat and set it on the corner of her desk. Her breasts trembled ever so slightly beneath the stiff blouse, the motion so subtle that he doubted anyone inside even noticed.

He did.

He noticed everything. The slight quiver of her bottom lip. The frantic staccato of her heartbeat. The sweet, succulent aroma of a woman who’d gone far too long without a man.

He fought against a wave of heat, but it was a fight he was destined to lose. He was burning up from the inside out after seventy-two hours cooped up on surveillance. Hungry. Desperate.

For an up close and personal look of the jail, he reminded himself. He’d been biding his time, sleeping during the day and watching all night, waiting for his ticket inside so he could vampire-proof Jimmy’s cell in preparation for Rose.

It wouldn’t have been a problem if Jimmy had been your average prisoner, but the jail was on lock-down with all deputies on high alert and a ball-busting Texas Ranger parked inside. While Sheriff Matt wanted to help the Braddock boys, he couldn’t jeopardize his reputation in the process. Colton needed a believable cover and proper clearance if he wanted access.

Enter Brent Braddock. Colton’s brother was an ex-security specialist with friends in high places. He’d managed to get to the right people and pull some strings. Soon Colton would enter the Skull Creek Sheriff’s Office as a county-contracted security consultant. His job? To evaluate and perform an upgrade on the current system.

His ticket inside would be ready first thing in the morning and he could quit watching and start doing.

Tomorrow.

He just had to hold out a little longer, bide his time a few more hours. That’s what Colton told himself, but damned if he didn’t slide from behind the wheel and start across the street anyway.

3

IT WAS TOO QUIET.

Shelly came to that conclusion the minute she sat down at her desk and realized that Bobby was nowhere in sight. Not hunched over his computer or playing video games on his phone or standing in front of the coffeemaker. Her gaze shifted to the men’s room.

No doubt the double cheeseburger he’d had at noon had finally caught up to him.

That’s what she told herself, but she couldn’t shake the strange feeling that something wasn’t right. Something besides the local diner’s lunch special or the fact that Monty Darlington had left a message on her voicemail asking her if she wanted to get busy back at his place tonight.

Take that, Minerva.

“Bobby?” She tapped on the door. “You okay?”

The only sound that prickled her ears was the steady hum of the air conditioner. She knocked harder. Once. Twice. Her hand tightened on the knob. A loud creak and she found herself inside the one-stall bathroom.

Empty.

Panic sizzled through her for a split-second before she tamped it back down. He was probably out back, talking the hat off the Texas Ranger on duty with Holbrook. Probably shooting the shit and drinking coffee.

She turned toward the containment area, ready to prove her theory when Bobby’s voice crackled over the dispatch speakers.

“Mama Bear, this is Baby Bear. You copy?”

A few swift strides, and she punched the button on the microphone. “Would you stop with the nicknames?”

“It’s not a nickname. It’s code. You never know who might be listening.”

“I know exactly who’s listening. Martin down at the feed store is the only one with a police band radio and he only tunes in on bridge night to make sure his ex-wife doesn’t drink too many mimosas and start streaking again. Where are you?”

“Picking up Honey Gentry. We got a call that she was soliciting outside the Sac-n-Pac,” he continued. “They needed a squad car out here asap, so here I am.”

“But I told you to stay put.”

“And I told him otherwise.” The grizzled voice came from behind her and she turned to see her resident Texas Ranger standing in the doorway that led to the cell area.

Rumor had it Beauford Truitt was the oldest Texas Ranger still on active duty and, some said, the toughest. He had snow-white hair, a weathered face and a pickled expression that said he wasn’t too happy to be stuck in a one-horse town with Texas’s Most Wanted prisoner in tow.

He held a cup of steaming black coffee in one hand and a half-eaten bear claw in the other. “Ain’t no sense in him neglecting his duties. Just go on about your business and leave Holbrook to the professionals.”

“We are professionals.”

Yeah right. His expression read loud and clear and Shelly had the fleeting thought that she was in over her head. It was a feeling she’d had many times before when the job had gotten a little too dangerous or her coworkers a little too condescending.

It was a feeling she’d grown all too familiar with growing up with a mother who didn’t love her half as much as she loved her social life. All those nights alone had forced Shelly to step up and take care of her little sister when she’d been just a child herself. And while she’d done her best, she’d never managed to shake the uncertainty.

Not that this guy knew that.

She gathered her courage and met his glare head on. “I give the orders here.”

“Sure you do, darlin’.” He winked. “The prisoner’s my responsibility.”

“And you’re both my responsibility, at least while you’re in this Sheriff’s office.” She narrowed her gaze, making it clear she wasn’t backing down no matter how many times he called her darlin’ or sugar or sweetcheeks or whatever else his good ole boy mentality managed to cook up.

Seconds ticked by before he shrugged and she gave herself a mental high five.

“Get some fresh pastries in here before I choke to death,” he grumbled, waving the half-eaten goody at her. “This one’s as tough as shoe leather.” He walked over to the white bakery box sitting next to the coffeemaker and rummaged inside.

Shelly shifted her attention back to the radio. “Finish up and get back here,” she told Bobby.

“Yes, ma’am. Baby bear out.” The connection ended and Shelly turned toward her desk, her heart still beating double time.

She blew out a deep, easy breath, careful not to let Truitt know that he’d gotten under her skin. She’d come up against his type too many times to count and she knew the worst thing to do was get visibly rattled. It was all about staying calm. In control. Fearless—

The thought faded into the whooooooosh of the front door and the heavy thud of boots.

“I’m looking for Shelly Lancaster,” came a deep, masculine voice.

Here we go again.

With Truitt eyeballing her from the coffeemaker, the last thing she needed was a potential suitor carrying another bottle of edible body paint. She had to set the record straight right here and now and put an end to all the nonsense.

“It was a misprint” died a quick death on her tongue when she turned to face off with the man standing in the doorway.

Her heart hitched and all she could do was stare for a long, breathless moment.

He had cowboy written all over him with his straw Stetson and button-down denim shirt. The cuffs had been rolled up to reveal muscular forearms, the tails tucked in at his trim waist. Soft, faded jeans clung to his long legs. A rip in the material gave her a glimpse of one strong, hair-dusted thigh and her throat went dry.

She eyed the scuffed toes of his brown boots before dragging her gaze back up, over his long legs, the hard, lean lines of his torso, the tanned column of his throat, to his face.

Brown hair streaked with the faintest hint of gold brushed his broad shoulders and drew attention to his rugged features. A day’s growth of stubble darkened his jaw and outlined his sensuous lips. Blue eyes so pale and translucent they were almost gray collided with hers.

No, it wasn’t the way he looked so much as the way he looked at her that sucked the air from her lungs.

“Yes, um, that would be me. At your service,” she finally managed to say, her voice breathless and excited and downright giddy.

She stiffened at the realization. No way, no how, would tough-as-nails Deputy Shelly Lancaster let a man—even one as good looking as this man—turn her into a pile of quivering Jell-O. She frowned and summoned her most no-nonsense voice. “Is there something I can do for you?”

She had to give him credit. He wasn’t the least bit put-off by her tone. Rather, a slow, purposeful grin spread across his face and her stomach hollowed out. “I can certainly think of a few things.”

The deep, seductive words echoed in her ears, slipping and sliding along her nerve endings and Shelly knew in an instant that this was it. This was what she’d been reading about. Dreaming of. Searching for.

This was chemistry. Pure and simple.

Potent.

Real.

She enjoyed the heat zinging between them all of five seconds before she gave herself a mental shake that kick-started her common sense. He couldn’t know that she’d really been the one who placed the ad. No one could. Which meant she’d better start explaining. And fast.

That’s what she told herself, but for a long, heart-pounding moment, she couldn’t actually get the words out. There was just something about the way he looked at her, as if he saw every little secret, as if he liked what he saw, that stalled the explanation on her tongue.

Instead, she breathed in, drinking in the delicious scent of raw leather and virile male. Electricity hummed through her body and sent tiny shock waves straight to her nipples. Her throat went dry.

“I hate to break up this party,” Truitt said, shattering the spell and yanking her back to the here and now and the all-important fact that he’d just witnessed her momentary lapse into desperate female. “But some of us have work to do.” A smirk tugged at his mouth as he turned on his heel, coffee cup in hand, and disappeared into the backroom.

She glared after the old man before turning the same look on Mr. Tall, Dark and Yummy. “I don’t know you,” she finally said, despite the strange inkling that she’d seen him somewhere before. She needed to get back on track. Focused. “And I know everybody in this town.”

“The name’s Colton Braddock.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Any relation to Cody Braddock?” Cody was an ex-bull rider who’d moved to town not long ago. He and his blushing bride were now living happily ever after on the outskirts of town.

“He’s my brother.”

“You’re late. The wedding was two weeks ago.”

Something dangerously close to regret flickered in his gaze before fading into those pale, unnerving eyes. “I didn’t get the invite in time.” He stared at her, into her, and she felt the heat rising up from her feet, whispering through her body and igniting everything in its path. “I’ve got a cattle spread out in New Mexico. It’s a little off the beaten path and the mail isn’t what it should be.” He shrugged. “But it suits me just fine. I like my privacy.”

The words echoed through her head and stirred a completely inappropriate vision of him, the moonlight bathing his naked body as he stood in the middle of a ripe green pasture. He wore the same grin that he was wearing right now and her heart skipped a few beats.

“Privacy is good,” she heard herself murmur and his grin widened.

“Oh, it’s better than good, sugar.” The words stirred another decadent vision and her body trembled. Trembled, of all things. It was a reaction straight out of a romance novel. The stuff of fantasies.

But it was real, she reminded herself again.

He was real. And he was here right now.

Thanks to a disastrous misprint.

“I didn’t advertise for sex,” she blurted, the denial tumbling out before her hormones could block the way.

Surprise gleamed a split second before fading into the pale blue depths of his eyes. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “That’s good to know.”

“The ad was for a girlfriend of mine,” she rushed on. “I placed it for her and the paper accidentally listed my e-mail instead of hers. But if you knew me, you’d know there was no way I would ever do something like that. I’m not the type.”

“And just what type are you?” he asked, and she had the distinct feeling that he really wanted to know. That he wanted to know her. The fact seemed to startle him if the frown that tugged at his mouth was any indication.

For the first time, she noticed that he wasn’t carrying edible undies or massage oils or anything else out of a Naughty Nights catalog. Rather, he carried a duffel bag and a clipboard. Realization struck, along with a rush of disappointment.

“You’re not here about the personal ad, are you?”

He shook his head. “I’m the private security consultant hired by the county to analyze your current system. I’m sure Sheriff Keller must have mentioned me.”

“He did. He also said to expect you tomorrow.”

“I finished up my previous job a little early so I thought I’d get a head start.” He gave her a disarming smile. “We’re not talking any major changes. Just a few added precautions to keep you guys on the transfer schedule with the major prisons. You do take transfers, don’t you?”

She nodded. “We had one delivered a few days ago. There was some confusion with his paperwork. He’s sitting here while they sort out the transfer details and then we’ll be handing him off to El Paso.”

“Perfect. I’ll take a look inside, make sure he’s safe and secure.” His gaze slid past her and for a brief moment, without his full attention fixated on her, she felt a niggle of doubt.

There was something slightly off with Colton Braddock. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“It’s really late,” she heard herself say, “and I’ve got a lot of loose ends to finish up before my shift ends. Why don’t you come back tomorrow? I can show you around then.”

“And give you time to check out my credentials?” He arched an eyebrow.

“I have to follow procedure.” She shrugged. “I’m sure you understand.”

He swept a gaze around the room, seemingly memorizing every detail before his attention shifted back to her, his gaze a brighter shade of blue this time, and she forgot what she was about to say.

Instead, she found herself wondering what he would taste like. Sweet and intoxicating and addictive? Dark and dangerous and forbidden? All of the above?

And then some.

The sound of his voice floated through her head, but his lips didn’t move. Instead, they tilted in a sensuous grin that did wicked things to her self control. Her hands trembled and her mouth watered.

She wanted to kiss him so badly.

And he wanted to kiss her.

She could see it in the way his eyes darkened and the muscle in his jaw twitched. He wanted to close the distance between them. Just a few feet and bam, they’d be toe-to-toe.

Touching.

Kissing.

“Tomorrow it is,” he murmured. And then, just like that, he vanished. No creak of the door. No click of the knob. Nothing. It was as if he’d disintegrated into thin air.

As if.

She’d been on the job for twelve hours straight, pulling a double shift yet again to prove to Matt that she was more than capable and dedicated. She was starting to get punchy. That was the reason she hadn’t seen him turn and walk away. Even more, it explained the crazy disappointment whispering through her.

A kiss?

Seriously?

She hardly knew him and he hardly knew her. Even more, she wasn’t going to get to know him because he was only here to tweak their security system. It was business and everyone knew that the town’s first female deputy didn’t mix business with pleasure.

No matter how hot he was or how sexually frustrated she was.

Rather, she was going to go home just as soon as Bobby got back, drown her troubles in a hot bath and get some much-needed sleep before she came face-to-face with Colton Braddock first thing in the morning.

Until then …

She walked over to the box of pastries, unearthed a chocolate-covered donut and took a big bite. The sugar melted in her mouth, sending a rush of satisfaction through her, albeit a temporary one. They weren’t that stale. At least not to a desperate, deprived woman.

It wasn’t sex, but it was definitely the next best thing.

4

COLTON CLIMBED BEHIND the wheel of his truck and tried to figure out what the hell had just happened.

He’d tried to glamour her and it hadn’t worked. Not a lick.

Sure, she’d looked as if she’d wanted to fall under his spell with her parted lips and her smoldering eyes and her take me now vibe. She’d even leaned toward him once or twice, as if she meant to give in to the pull and cross the room. But then …

Nothing.

Not a damned thing.

She hadn’t launched herself into his arms and begged him to come closer, to make himself right at home.

Hell, no. She’d stood her ground and told him to come back tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

If he hadn’t been so irritated, he might have actually smiled. It had been a long time—over one hundred and fifty years to be exact—since a woman had faced off with him and actually won.

Women typically melted at his feet when he looked into their eyes. Not that he was proud of that fact.

It was simply the nature of the beast that he’d become and, he had to admit, it had its advantages. He didn’t have to worry about showing his true nature when he was having sex. All he had to do was stare deeply into his partner’s eyes and will away her memory of him.

But there was too much riding on this moment and he needed inside of that jail too badly to be the least bit amused right now. Or turned on. He needed Shelly’s cooperation more than he needed her luscious body.

The thought struck and conjured all sorts of images and he damned himself for thinking with his dick. But that, too, was the nature of the beast.

He wanted her the way he wanted all women.

Okay, so he wanted her a little bit more. She was more sexually frustrated than the average female which meant she had all that sweet, succulent energy bottled up inside of her, just waiting to be unleashed. That made her all the more attractive and damned if he didn’t want to peel away her stiff exterior and see the delicate curves hiding beneath.

Hiding. That’s what she was doing.

He knew because he’d been doing it himself for more years than he could count. Living in the shadows, protecting his true nature, surviving.

For revenge.

That’s the reason he’d kept going all those years ago when he’d lost everything. The reason he kept going now. He’d dreamt of payback, lusted after it, and now was his chance to have it.

He didn’t have time for some stubborn female with a badge. No time for touching or kissing.

Especially kissing.

He played the scenario over and over in his head for the next few minutes. The desperate urge to cross the distance to her, lean forward and touch his lips to hers.

To distract her. Persuade her.

It certainly hadn’t been because he’d wanted to kiss her. Sex was one thing. It was all about survival. Sustenance. But kissing? Talk about personal. Colton had no intention of getting personal with any woman.

No matter how much he suddenly wanted to.

“There’s no reason to sit out here all night.”

The deep voice shattered his train of thought, thankfully, and he turned to see his brother slide onto the seat next to him.

“She’s not even close.” Brent Braddock closed the door and eyed his older brother. “So why don’t you give it up and come home with me? Abby really wants to spend some time with you.”

Colton arched an eyebrow. “Abby, huh?”

Brent shrugged. “Okay, so maybe I wouldn’t mind catching up myself.” He met Colton’s gaze. “I know Cody and Travis wouldn’t mind it either. In fact, Cody really wanted you to stay out at his place.”

“The hotel is working just fine.” Or it would be if the eightysomething-year-old woman who ran the place with her grandson would stop banging on his door throughout the day, wanting to change his sheets.

“Suit yourself, but it seems a shame not to take advantage of the fact that we’re all together.”

“We’re here for a reason.”

“She won’t show up for a few more days at least,” Brent reminded him. “My contact at the prison did the transfer really fast and on the fly. Holbrook isn’t due in El Paso until the day after tomorrow. If Rose has already figured out he’s being moved—and that’s a big if—she’ll be waiting there for him. Add twenty-four hours for her to trace the transfer and identify exactly where he’s been delayed once she figures out that something is up. Another twenty-four for her to reach Skull Creek since she can only travel at night. That means we’ve got at least a week to sit around and wait.” He caught Colton’s stare. “I can’t think of a better way to spend it than getting re-acquainted with each other.”

“I’d rather not take any chances.”

Brent looked as if he wanted to argue, but then he shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He opened the passenger door and paused. “I could hang out here for a little while.”

“Go home to your wife.”

“You shouldn’t have to do this by yourself.”

“But I’m going to.” Colton met his brother’s gaze. “This is my fight, not yours. You know that.” While they’d all suffered thanks to Rose, Colton had suffered the most. He’d lost everything and he would be the one to make her pay.

Brent looked as if he wanted to object, but then he nodded. “If you change your mind about tonight, we’ll be at my place.” In the blink of an eye, he was gone and Colton settled back in his seat to keep watch.

At least, he tried to settle in. But his nerves were wound too tight, his hands clenched, his gut tense.

Not because of Rose. Brent was right about one thing—she wasn’t even close. Colton could sense other vampires and while he felt the steady hum from his brothers and the others in Skull Creek, that was it. No prickling up his spine. No tingling in his limbs. No spike of anger in his gut.

Yet.

But she would come eventually and he would have his pound of flesh. That would be the end of it.

The end of him.

Because this wasn’t just about defeating Rose. It was about punishing her for what she’d done, and then paying the price himself for not preventing it in the first place.

That’s why he’d come here.

Skull Creek would be the end. Of Rose and of the damnable guilt that ate away inside of him.

Until then …

The scent of ripe cherries teased his nostrils. His mouth watered and his gut twisted and he stiffened.

He was in for a long night.

SHELLY WAS ON HER third donut when Bobby arrived with a tall, tanned blonde in tow.

“I wasn’t soliciting,” Honey Gentry said as the deputy steered her into a chair. “I was advertising.”

Although well into her late thirties, the woman didn’t look a day over twenty-five. With long, dark blond hair and a figure that would make any Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader insanely jealous, Honey was the sort of woman who turned heads when she walked into any room. Especially wearing skimpy Daisy Duke shorts that accented her long, endless legs and a red tank top that outlined her perfect breasts. Add a pair of red cowboy boots and it was no wonder she’d caused a riot at the Sac-n-Pac.

“Thank God. Finally I can talk to someone who doesn’t think with his crotch.” Heavily lined cornflower blue eyes shifted to Shelly. “This is all a big misunderstanding.”

Shelly arched an eyebrow. “I thought you promised Judge Myers that you were going to turn over a new leaf if he let you off with probation last year?”

“I swear I didn’t do anything.”

“Not yet.” Bobby handed over a hot pink flyer. “I caught her just in time. She was handing out these. Gave one to the mayor’s wife. She’s the one who called it in.”

“Pinkie Hamilton is as nutty as a squirrel turd. She’s just mad ‘cause her husband is one of my best customers.” Honey beamed. “He loves my honey buns.”

“You might want to keep that info to yourself until you talk to a lawyer,” Shelly warned.

“I was just advertising my product. That isn’t against the law.”

“It is if the product is a sexual favor.”

“It’s not a sexual favor.” Honey beamed. “I’ve expanded from breakfast pastries,” she indicated the basket that Bobby had plopped on Shelly’s desk, “to cupcakes. It’s my new business. I’m a cupcake caterer.”

“Yeah, right.” Bobby snorted and glanced at the pink flier. “You’re trying to tell us that Decadent Thunder Down Under is the name of a cupcake?”

“One of my top sellers.” Honey flicked her long mane of hair. “And it’s the mayor’s personal favorite which is why his wife hates my guts. She can’t cook a lick.” She motioned to the basket. “I’ve got a half dozen to deliver to him. He got stuck in a late meeting so I thought I’d do a little advertising at the Sac-n-Pac until he finished.” She motioned to the basket of sweet-smelling goodies. “It’s my granny’s recipe.”

“Cupcakes, huh?” Shelly eyed the list. “Chitty Cherry Bang Bang and Lickety My Banana Split,” she read out loud and her gaze shifted to Honey. “Don’t you think those names might be misconstrued?”

“It’s called suggestive branding. I learned it on the internet.” The woman shrugged. “It ain’t my fault if this whole town’s got their minds in the gutter. I’m just trying to beef up my business.”

“Well you’re out of business for now,” Bobby informed her as he slid behind his desk and reached for an arrest sheet.

“For soliciting?” Shelly asked the deputy.

Bobby shook his head. “When I told Pinkie I couldn’t arrest someone just because of a flyer, she got the owner of the Sac-n-Pac to file charges for loitering.”

“But that’s not fair,” Honey protested. “I wasn’t loitering. I was an actual customer. I even bought a large sweet tea and a bag of Doritos before I started handing out flyers.”

“Tell it to the judge.” Bobby reached for his fingerprint kit while Shelly barely resisted the urge to put a stop to the nonsense.

“I’m sure Judge Meyers will throw it out in a heartbeat,” she told Honey. “But we have to go through the motions when anyone presses charges.”

“This sucks.” Honey blew out an exasperated breath. “I’m going to miss Lost.”

“Maybe not.” Shelly made a mental note to get Bobby to move the small television from the back room into Honey’s cell. Yes, it violated about ten different rules, but this was a small town and these were trumped up charges. Tit for tat.

She gave Honey an encouraging smile and settled down behind her desk to finish up her own paperwork.

Her thoughts kept going to Colton Braddock and the all important fact that out of all the men who’d crossed her path that day, he’d turned out to be The One. Also known as the answer to her sexually frustrated prayers. Which wouldn’t have been such a bad thing except he wasn’t here because he wanted to have a little fun. He was here to do a job.

And he was coming back tomorrow.

She stiffened and eyed the basket sitting on the corner of her desk. Icing clung to the edge of the lid and the warm scent of sugar and vanilla teased her nostrils. The trio of donuts she’d had hadn’t come close to touching the hunger that gnawed inside of her. She needed something more filling.

She needed him.

Shelly shook away the sudden thought and leaned forward. Her hand was an inch shy of the basket when the door buzzed open and a redhead wearing a pair of oversize sunglasses rushed inside.

“Hide me,” said Shelly’s younger sister.

“Sunglasses? Really? It’s seven o’clock in the evening.”

“I don’t want to be recognized.” As if that would ever happen. At twenty-three, Darla Lancaster was tall and leggy with a killer body and enough sex appeal to have all the men in town chasing after her. She’d slowed down long enough to let one in particular catch up, only to leave him at the altar three days ago with no explanation. She’d been avoiding him ever since.

“Billy Spoon saw me coming out of the Iron Horseshoe about ten minutes ago,” Darla said, breathless. “I’m sure he’s on the phone right now blabbing to Tom.” Tom was the man she’d stood up at the altar. He was also a high powered lawyer and the mayor’s son. Translation? He had connections. Lots of them. “I’m not ready to see him yet.”

“You left him high and dry in front of a church full of people. You left me high and dry in front of a church full of people.” Wearing the worst dress ever, she added silently. “Don’t you think you owe him an explanation?” While the wedding planner had told everyone that the bride had had a family emergency, there’d been no further details as to why the lavish event had been cancelled. Nothing but an “I’m sorry” and “Be sure to pick up a slice of cake for the road.”

“How can I explain what happened when I don’t even know?” Darla rushed to the window, slid the sunglasses down her nose and peeked past the blinds. “He’s rich. Handsome. Nice. Perfect.” She turned a confused expression on Shelly. “I left the perfect man at the altar. What’s wrong with me?” Before Shelly could respond, she added, “He sent me flowers today. Imported Italian tea roses. Only the best for the best.” Her eyes filled with tears. “That’s what the card said. Talk about a great guy, right? Tom can give me everything I’ve ever wanted. Even the sex is good.” Her gaze collided with Shelly’s. “So why don’t I love him?”

“Love is overrated.” Shelly had learned that firsthand after watching their mother fall in love over and over again. “Settle for good sex and consider yourself lucky.”

“I can’t marry him if I don’t love him. But if I blow him off, he’ll get really mad and then he won’t want to marry me. Then what if I change my mind and decide I do want to marry him?” She shook her head. “I just need to stay out of sight while I try to figure things out. That way I keep my options open.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

Even more ridiculous, it made sense. At least where Darla was concerned.

Shelly and her sister had grown up on the wrong side of the tracks with little money and few choices. With their mother out kicking up her heels every Saturday night and most nights in between, they’d been left to fend for themselves. Alone. Scared. Uncertain.

Shelly had overcome that uncertainty by working her way through the police academy and joining the Sheriff’s department. Her baby sister had done it with makeup and hair extensions. While Shelly could outshoot any man in Skull Creek, Darla could have him eating out of her hand with one sultry smile.

“My shift ended a few hours ago. Bobby can stall him if he comes in while I drop you off on my way home.” She motioned to the rear of the jail. “My car’s out back.”

Darla grinned. “You’re the best big sister in the world.”

“Remember that the next time you’re tempted to force me into a hideous bridesmaid’s dress.”

“That dress was straight off a Paris runway, not that you would know that, since the last time you actually went dress shopping was—I don’t know—never. Speaking of which—” She eyeballed her sister. “—since you’re going to bite the bullet and find yourself a man, you might want to fix yourself up a little.” She stared at Shelly’s starched brown cover-everything-up uniform. “Your wardrobe needs sexing up in the worst way.”

“My wardrobe is just fine the way it is and the newspaper made a mistake. It wasn’t my ad.”

Darla smiled. “I knew it! I told Mom that it had to be a misprint, but she thinks you’ve finally lightened up and are now following in her footsteps.”

She glared at her sister. “Just meet me out back.”

5

SHELLY WASN’T SURE what bothered her more—seeing Colton Braddock still parked outside the jail at midnight when she’d come back after dropping her sister off. Or the zing of excitement she felt at finding him there.

He sat behind the wheel of his black Ford pick-up, his window down, his hat tipped low, his attention fixed on the building directly across the street.

She eased her Mustang up behind him and killed the engine. A few seconds later, she leaned into the open passenger window of his truck. “Nice night.”

He didn’t so much as glance at her. Instead, his eyes stayed fixed on the jail. “Nice enough.”

“You usually start most of your assignments with a stakeout?”

“I like to get a feel for a place before I go in.”

“And what’s your feel for this place?”

He shrugged one broad shoulder and she had the same sense of déjà vu that had come over her when he’d first stepped inside the jail.

As if she’d seen him somewhere before.

Duh. You’ve seen his brother. There has to be a family resemblance.

Probably.

“Typical small town set-up.” His voice killed any further speculation and drew her full attention. “Front office. Rear containment area. Two or three cells at the most. Good when it comes to a few drunks and the occasional bar fight. Not so good for a prisoner like Holbrook.”

“You’re here because of him, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Either you are or you aren’t.” She watched him watch the building. “So which is it? Did the county send you in because they don’t think we can handle it?” That I can handle it? “Or is this all just a coincidence?”

Her instinct was telling her it was number one. Still, she couldn’t help but hope she was wrong.

He didn’t seem in any hurry to put her out of her misery. Seconds ticked by before he leaned across the cab and grabbed the door handle. The latch clicked and the door opened.

“Get in and I’ll tell you.” Challenge gleamed hot and bright in his gaze.

Shelly had never been one to shy away when called out. That, and she suddenly couldn’t help herself. While her brain told her to run like hell, her hormones were like heat-seeking missiles and Colton Braddock was a blazing inferno. She climbed in.

Leather shifted as she settled on the seat. Hinges creaked and the door closed with a thud. The rich aroma of sexy male surrounded her, pushing and pulling at her already tentative control. The urge to slide across the seat and cozy up nearly overwhelmed her. It had been so long since she’d felt a man next to her.

Even more, she’d never felt one like Colton Braddock.

An air of sensuality clung to him, as if sex was as natural to him as breathing. The musky scent of leather and male filled the cab, teasing her senses and making her heart flutter. The air between them crackled with electricity.

The chemistry was potent, but she wasn’t about to give in to it. The last thing she needed was for him to report back to the county that she was anything but professional. This was her job. Her future. And so she gathered her strength and her composure.

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