Caught by Surprise (11 page)

He watched her go up the steps to the trailer door, her curly blond hair buffeted, her small body swaying when the wind hit it. She knocked on the door and a stocky, disheveled woman threw it open. Millie stepped inside and shut the door behind her.

Brig cursed softly and dug his fingers into the car seat in order to keep himself from following her. In his culture men protected women, and this situation strained his tolerance to the breaking point. Besides, this wasn’t just any woman, this was Melisande, the most aggravating, stubborn, mixed-up woman he’d ever met. She didn’t know how to ask for help when she needed it—and that scared him.

He waited five minutes, then ten, his concern growing Fifteen minutes after she entered the trailer he heard a muffled scream. Brig was already out of the car when the trailer door opened. The interior lights silhouetted the stout husband of the brawling pair. He held a rolling pin in one hand. The milling neighbors hurriedly moved back from the threat.

Brig raced out of the darkness, leaped to the top doorstep, and broadsided the husband. Screams rose from the crowd. The man fell backward into the trailer’s living room, with Brig on top of him. Brig glanced around, saw no one else, and grabbed the front of the sweaty sport shirt his victim wore.

“Where’s the deputy, you bastard?”

The man was breathless from the fall. “Bathroom.”

Brig jerked the rolling pin from his hand and threw it under a couch. He vaulted to his feet and ran toward a hallway.

Millie lay on her back on the floor, her head propped against the open bathroom door. She held a hand to one eye. The wife crouched beside her, crying.

“Melisande!” Brig went down on his knees and grasped her head between his hands.

“I got hit in the eye,” she murmured with a hint of embarrassment. “It’s not that bad.”

He pulled her hand back and grimly studied the swelling purple bruise around her left eye. “I’ll kill him,” Brig muttered, and started to get up. Millie grabbed his shirt sleeve.

“No!”

“They can put me in jail for two more months, I don’t care! What kind of man hits a woman
and
a law officer?”

“It was m-me,” the woman interjected. She sobbed and raised a meaty fist. “I did it.”

Stunned, Brig stared at her. “
Strewth
” he said. Then his expression darkened. “What the hell were you doin’, whackin’ a deputy that way?”

“You’re a c-convict!” the woman said fearfully, noticing his outfit for the first time.

“It was an accident,” Millie interjected. She sat up, and Brig helped her stand. She cleared her throat in a warning way that told him her duty was more important than an injury, so he removed his arm from her shoulders. As her eye swelled shut, she explained about the battle.

“Mrs. Brown had Mr. Brown trapped in the bathroom. I finally convinced her to let Mr. Brown come out, but when he did, there was a little scuffle and I was caught in the middle.”

“What’s this
convict
doing on the loose?” Mrs. Brown insisted, her voice rising. She backed away from Brig, clutching her hands to an ample bosom.

His eyes narrowed lethally and he made a growling sound. “Don’t make me chase you, me little peach. The prison doctor says I shouldn’t be
provoked.
”

Millie sighed and hurriedly told her, “He isn’t dangerous. I’m transporting him to a work detail.”

“In the middle of the night?” Mrs. Brown asked.

Millie faltered for a second and Brig took up the slack. “I do my best work in the dark.” His voice was wicked. Mrs. Brown took another step back.

“That’ll be enough,” Millie interjected quickly. She gave Brig a stern look. “Go back to the patrol car. On the double.”

Brig bit his tongue and nodded. She was in charge here, and the grim set of her mouth told him that his continued assistance would make her look bad. Besides, she had the situation under control. Brig realized how proud he was of her. It was hell for him to turn on his boot heels and leave her alone with the Browns, but he did it. Melisande’s dignity was all that
mattered. And at that moment Brig knew how much he loved her.

Ten minutes later she came out of the trailer and told the crowd to go home, everything was fine. Her shoulders back and her chin up, she presented a picture of absolute command as she walked to the patrol car. Brig ached to reach for her when she slid into the driver’s seat, but people would see. She shut the door and locked her seat belt in place with quick, assured hands.

“How’s the shiner, love?”

Millie started the car and kept her eyes forward. “No sweat, mate.”

She drove down a dark, windswept two-lane road. When they were out of sight from the trailer park, she pulled onto a grassy, shoulder and rested her forehead on the steering wheel.

“I’d never admit this to anyone but you,” she murmured, “but I feel as if that beefy Sheila rearranged half my face. Terrible.”

Brig slid close and took her in his arms. She gingerly leaned into the comforting embrace. “It’s all right to be needy.”

“No, it’s not,” she corrected. “But I can’t help myself right now.”

“I’ll settle for that. Let me drive.”

She sighed and said wryly, “Why not? You’re practically a member of the staff. I’ll just pretend that you’re Paradise Springs’ first inmate deputy.”

“I shouldn’t have barged into things tonight, I know.”

Millie patted his chest. “Brig, I wasn’t the least surprised.” She paused, and her voice dropped huskily. “Thanks.”

Back at the jail, they went to the deputies’ lounge and opened the freezer section of the refrigerator. Millie retrieved something that looked like a blue beanbag. “Reusable ice pack,” she explained.

“Come on.” He took her by one hand and led her to his cell. “Home sweet home. Lay down on my bunk.”

Her face hurt too bad to argue. Millie stretched out,
the cold bag pressed to her eye. He left for a minute, and when he came back, he carried a soft drink can. A straw protruded from the top. While her good eye watched him in amusement, Brig set the can on her chest and slipped the straw between her lips. He sat down on the bunk, his hip casually touching her thigh.

“Why is it that you always end up taking care of me?” she asked, arching her good brow. “Twice, now. I must be injury prone around you.”

“Nah. You just didn’t have anybody to watch over you before. You think it’s strange to have a shoulder to lean on.”

“It is.” She frowned as much as her condition would allow. “I’m not certain what to do.”

“Lean, love, lean. It’s that simple.” He grinned for a moment. “I left the door open to the reception area. I’ll listen for any phone calls. You rest.”

“Hmmm.” Grateful, she sipped from the drink, then handed it to him. “Enough.”

He finished it in a few swallows, then pressed the can against his knee and crumpled it flat with the movement of one large hand.

Millie smiled wearily. “I love men with strong fingers.” As a coy look spread across his face, and as she analyzed her words, she smiled ruefully. “I always manage to get myself in trouble with you.”

“And it’s wonderful, eh, Melisande?”

“Melisande,” she repeated softly. “I thought you weren’t going to call me that anymore.”

He looked away for a moment, and a muscle worked in his jaw. “Didn’t want to. Couldn’t help myself. It suits you.”

“I wish it did,” she said fervently. “I wish I could be tough Millie and delicate Melisande at the same time.”

Brig looked at her with a seriousness that made her heart stop. “You were delicate
and
tough tonight. I wanted to carry you out of that trailer and kiss you.”

Her stomach dropped in delight and shock. “With my uniform on and a bruised eye?”

“Yes, love.” He couldn’t resist adding devilishly.

“Though I’d rather you had your uniform off. Your badge might stick me.”

She stared at him in silent wonder. “I want you so much,” Millie whispered.

A taut, intense look of concentration replaced the teasing expression on his face. His voice was a throaty promise. “You’ve got me.”

“For tonight, at least.”

Brig shut his eyes, willing his patience to remain strong. He reached out and gently stroked her cheek. “Why are you so afraid that I’ll leave you and never look back?”

She was silent for a moment, struggling inwardly. Her tone was cautious. “My family moved every year from the time I was a baby until Dad retired. I was nineteen then. Nineteen years of leaving friends behind, of moving into new apartments and houses. Nineteen years of always struggling to be self-sufficient so that the transitions would be easier. I want permanent things around me now. A permanent home, permanent relationships.”

He cupped her chin in his hand, bent forward, and brushed his mouth across hers. He felt the small shiver of response in her body. “I won’t make promises tonight, because you wouldn’t believe them,” he murmured. “But they’re there, Melly, waitin’ to be said.”

“No,” she protested in a troubled tone. “No promises.”

Brig braced his arms on either side of her and slowly lifted himself to one knee. He moved to the empty half of the small bunk, then lowered himself. Trembling, Millie turned her head on the pillow and looked at him. She sensed his restraint and saw the intensity in his eyes. His breath touched her lips, and a sweet sense of certainty flooded her.

She tilted her head close to his and kissed the corner of his mouth. A rebuking inner voice told her that she should only kiss him briefly, just long enough to sample the texture and taste of his lips. But he moaned, a low, encouraging, masculine sound that unraveled all her good intentions. Millie pushed the ice pack away.
and it fell to the floor beside the bed. Her hand crept forward and stroked his jaw while her mouth pressed tighter to his. He opened his lips and welcomed the gentle pressure of her tongue.

Brig shifted and slipped his arms around her, gathering her close to his body. It was natural and easy for her to turn on her side and nestle against the hard length of his torso, feeling her breasts flatten against his chest, feeling his thighs brush hers. He caressed the small of her back, then ran his hands over her hips and pulled them snugly to his own.

Millie exhaled softly, pleasure in the sound, and he captured her breath with a kiss that turned her boneless. The hot, stroking intimacy of his tongue made her want him desperately, and her body arched into the straining hardness between his thighs.

He drew back, his face flushed and eyes groggy, then raised one hand and gently traced the bruise on her left eye. Millie made an inarticulate sound of affection at the way his fingertips eased the pain. “Prize-fighter,” he murmured, “you won me.”

Brig lifted his head and lightly touched his lips to the bruise, then licked the skin with infinite care. When he passed his tongue over her swollen eyelid, Millie gripped his shoulders and shivered.

“Hurt?” he whispered.

“Just the opposite.”

Smiling, he put one hand between their bodies and began unbuttoning her shirt. “Upset you?” he asked.

She laughed helplessly. “Just the opposite.”

When his hand delved into the open shirt and slipped under her bra, he inquired, “Too much?”

“Just the opposite.”

Grinning now, he slid down and placed a kiss on the top of the breast he cupped in one hand. He pushed the bra strap and shirt off her shoulder, then circled her nipple with his tongue. “Want more?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper. “Don’t you
dare
say—”

“More.”

His breath exploded in soft chuckles against her sensitive
skin, then caught short as he turned his attention to her breasts again. Brig eased her onto her back and took her shirt and bra off. Millie heard roaring in her ears as the cool air added its caress to her body. She moved languidly, trapped in primitive sensations and the hunger of Brig’s gaze. He drew his fingertips across her breasts almost reverently, and Millie felt weightless as she watched his eyes move over her.

“I haven’t got anything near as pretty as these to show,” he said gruffly.

She smiled. “Oh, I suspect that you have something I’d find just as appealing.”

He bent his head and took her breasts in his palms, running his thumbs across her nipples, igniting pleasure throughout her body. Then his mouth teased her, nibbling, pulling, until she made wild little sounds and sank her fingers into his hair.

“Tonight is just for you,” he whispered as he trailed kisses up her throat. He looked down at her with hooded eyes, knowing that she was vulnerable, that she’d do whatever he asked, but duty and conscience would haunt her later. No, he’d have to wait until he was a free man, and they were someplace besides a jail cell, before he could finish what they’d begun here. Oh, but what a beginning.

Brig undid her trousers and the thick, black belt she wore, then slid his hand inside. She trembled and a mixture of desire and confusion colored her eyes. “Be needy,” he urged. “Just lay still and need my touch.”

Reassured, she put her hands above her head. Brig curved one hand around them and she gripped tightly. His other hand sought the warm secrets between her thighs. When he cupped her softness, she thought she’d die if he didn’t give her more. Affection and passion combined inside her until she wanted to cry out that she loved him. That amazing thought was lost in her passion, and she had no time to analyze it.

“Melisande,” he whispered into her ear. “Melisande, I’m going to touch you inside.” She moaned as he
made good on his words. “That’s right, love. Move against my hand. Does this make your eye feel better?”

Confused, dazzled, lost amidst sensation, she chuckled weakly and her voice was barely audible. “What eye?” And then she said his name in a way that made his hips arch against her reflexively.

“Aw, Melly, you could ruin me with a tone like that,” he said in a raspy voice.

Brig kissed the parted sweetness of her mouth and groaned when she gave back the pleasüre with abandon. His fingers continued to stroke her, slowly, expertly, making her rise and quiver under their guidance.

She twisted her mouth away and drew a long, shuddering breath. Then her eyes settled on his, and he watched her expression as control slipped away. She writhed as sensation washed over her, and Brig shuddered when he felt her wild tremors. She clung to him, shaking with pleasure, and tears came to his eyes.