Natural-Born Protector / Saved by the Monarch (5 page)

She’d been angry with him ever since he’d made the decision to sell the ranch and move here. He didn’t know how to deal with her anger and he didn’t know how to deal with the fact that every time he looked at the daughter he loved, he remembered the woman he’d lost.

Something in him had died with Rebecca, something integral to life, and he didn’t know how to reclaim it, wasn’t even sure he wanted to try.

He moved away from the door and went into his room, where the king-size bed awaited him. It was late. He should be asleep, but sleep had been a problem for him ever since he’d sold the ranch.

Too little activity, he thought. He wished Dalton would call about a job, something that took him into dangerous territory where he had no time to think about himself or his life, where the only thing he had to worry about was survival.

He went back into the living room and poured himself a healthy shot of scotch, then sank down on the sofa to wait for sleep to claim him. More mornings than he cared to admit he woke up on the sofa, having never gone into the bedroom.

As he took a sip of the drink he realized that he felt as if he were waiting for his life to begin. From the moment he’d closed on the sale of the ranch he’d known that he was about to embark on a new life. But until Dalton came through with an assignment he was in limbo.

He frowned as he thought he heard a faint knock on his front door. A glance at the clock let him know it was after midnight. What the hell?

Setting his glass on the coffee table, he got up from the sofa and went to the door. He opened it a crack, surprised to see Melody standing on the other side. She was wrapped in a royal-blue bathrobe that matched her wide eyes and her hair was tousled as if she’d just climbed out of bed.

“Did I wake you?” she asked. “I thought I saw a light beneath your door. God, I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“I was still up.” He opened the door wide enough to allow her to enter. “Is something wrong?” As she swept past him he caught a whiff of her scent, that slightly floral fragrance he found so attractive.

“I’m sorry to bother you. Nothing is really wrong, I just got a phone call and I couldn’t go back to sleep and to be honest I just needed to talk to someone.” She tied, then retied the belt around her waist.

He took her arm and led her to the sofa. “What kind of phone call?”

She sat on the edge of the sofa. “It was a man. He told me to go back where I came from.”

Hank looked at her in surprise and sat next to her. “When did this happen?”

“Just a few minutes ago.”

“Did you recognize the voice? Did you check the caller ID?”

“The call came up anonymous and no, I didn’t recognize the voice.” She wrapped her arms around herself, as if to ward off a bone-chilling shiver.

“I was just having a little scotch. Want one?” he asked.

She hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Okay, maybe just a little,” she agreed.

He got up and poured her a finger of the amber liquid, then returned to sit next to her and handed her the small glass.

“Thanks. I didn’t think the phone call bothered me that much, so after I hung up I shut off my light and tried to go back to sleep, but I kind of got creeped out.” She took a sip of the scotch and grimaced. “This stuff always tastes like medicine to me.”

He smiled. “It’s good medicine. It will warm you up from the inside out.”

She nodded and took another sip. “The good news is I guess I’ve got somebody nervous with all the questions I’ve been asking.”

“Maybe now’s the time to step back and let Zack West do his job,” Hank replied.

Her eyes narrowed slightly and she set her glass on the coffee table next to his. “Not on your life. I’m getting closer and if it was Lainie’s killer who contacted me, then maybe he’ll call again and maybe he’ll say something that will identify him to me.”

“I don’t like it,” Hank said flatly. “Besides the people in the bar, who else have you spoken to about Lainie?”

“Yesterday I went to Hall’s Car Haven and talked to Dean, but he wasn’t any help.” She frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe I just need to make a list of all the people I’ve talked to, and the killer will be on the list.”

“You’re forgetting one little thing,” he replied. “Cotter
Creek is a very small town. I’m sure everyone knows you’ve been asking questions.”

“So it could be somebody I haven’t even talked to,” she replied with a frown.

“Have you changed the locks on the town house?” He stared down into his drink, finding the slender curve of her neck and the peek of something black and lacy just above the neckline of her robe disconcerting.

“Not yet. I meant to do it, but haven’t gotten around to it. I’ll do it first thing in the morning.”

“Maybe you should stay here for the rest of the night.” He looked at her once again and fought the impulse to reach out and stroke a length of her long, shiny hair.

“Thanks, but I don’t think that’s necessary. If he really wanted to harm me, then he wouldn’t have called to warn me off.”

Hank reluctantly agreed with her assessment. “Still, you’ve made yourself visible and that could be dangerous.”

“Then maybe we should make your services to me official,” she replied. “I don’t know what the going rate for bodyguard services is, but I might be able to afford you for a little while.”

“That isn’t necessary,” he replied. “I’m already on board.” He wanted to demand that she stop asking questions, demand that she leave the investigation to the appropriate authorities. But he didn’t have the right to demand anything of her and besides, he had a feeling it wouldn’t do any good. She was determined, driven by some inner demon to find out the truth.

“Just do me a favor,” he said. “Don’t go asking questions of anyone else unless I’m with you.”

She picked up her glass once again and studied him over the rim. “You’re a nice man, Hank Tyler.”

He wasn’t a nice man. She’d had a scare, and all he could think about was taking her into his arms and discovering just how little she had on beneath her robe. He wanted to find out how that black lace molded to her breasts, then rip it off her to reveal her nakedness.

She tipped the glass to her lips and finished the last of the scotch. “I’m sorry for bothering you with this,” she said as she stood. “The call freaked me out a little bit and I just needed somebody to talk to. I knocked softly, hoping if you were asleep I wouldn’t bother you.” Her cheeks grew pink, as if with a touch of embarrassment.

“Don’t apologize, and anytime you feel frightened or upset, don’t hesitate to knock as loud as you need to.”

He stood as well and walked with her to the door, trying to think of a reason for her to stay longer. The nights had become so long lately.

When she reached the door she turned to look at him, her gratitude shining from her eyes. “Thanks, Hank.”

“For what? For the scotch?”

She smiled. “No, for the company.”

Without even realizing he intended to kiss her, he did. He leaned his head down, saw the widening of her eyes just before his lips touched hers.

Immediately she opened her mouth to him, as if she’d been expecting the kiss, as if she welcomed it. If she hadn’t opened her mouth, the kiss would have been entirely different, but she did and Hank wound his arms
around her, pulled her close and kissed her like he’d wanted to since the moment he’d first met her.

Her mouth was hot and tasted of the scotch and as his tongue swirled with hers, he was lost…lost in a whirlwind of desire that he hadn’t felt for a very long time.

She molded against the length of him, her breasts snug against his chest. He wanted to rip the robe from her, carry her to his bed and make love to her until the sun came up.

Before he could follow through on any of the hundred things he’d have liked to do, she broke the kiss and stepped back from him with a gasp. Her lips trembled slightly and she gazed up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said and jammed his hands into his pockets. “That was totally unprofessional.”

She ran a hand through her hair, as if giving herself time to steady, then offered him a little half smile that reignited a flame in the pit of his stomach. “Sometimes I like a man who isn’t always professional.”

Her words and the shine in her eyes did little to lessen the heat that burned him from the inside out, but he didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. “Look, Melody, I’ll confess that I’m very attracted to you.”

“I’m attracted to you, too.” Once again her cheeks filled with color.

“But I’m not interested in anything long-term. I had the one big love of my life and I’m not looking for another.”

“As soon as Lainie’s murderer is caught, I’m out of here. And even if he isn’t caught by the end of summer, I have a life to go back to in Chicago,” she replied. “I’m not looking for anything long-term, either, but if you’re interested in a summer fling, then maybe we can talk about it.”

She didn’t wait for his reply. With her cheeks flaming bright red, she escaped out the door and went down the hall to Lainie’s place.

Hank stared after her, torn between his desire for physical release and the need to hold someone warm and feminine in his arms—and a vague feeling that he was already in over his head as far as Melody Thompson was concerned.

T
hat kiss. That unexpected, sizzling kiss played in Melody’s mind until sleep finally claimed her. And it was the first thing she thought of when she opened her eyes the next morning.

But the thought of the kiss didn’t disturb her as much as her offer to him of a meaningless physical fling. Jeez, she thought as she showered, she’d practically offered herself up like a Thanksgiving turkey on a decorative platter.

Minutes later, dressed for the day, she sat at the kitchen table sipping coffee and preparing a list of things she needed to buy at the grocery store for the pizza party that night.

Even though she’d been awake more than half the night, it was just after seven and she felt remarkably
rested. She was embarrassed by her forwardness the night before, but she was looking forward to spending the evening with Hank and Maddie.

By eight she’d finished her list, drunk her coffee and called a locksmith to change the locks she’d forgotten about until last night. He’d told her to expect him within the next hour. She then moved to Lainie’s bedroom to continue the packing.

All the clothes and shoes were now in boxes neatly packed for donation. She’d stripped the bed, and all that was left were the personal items in the drawers and on top of the dresser.

She’d begun packing up the collection of fairies when she heard a knock on the door. It must be the locksmith, she thought as she hurried to answer.

She opened the door to a man wearing a paintsplattered apron and holding a can of paint. He was obviously not the locksmith. “Hi, I’m Mike. Fred sent me, said you needed a wall painted.”

She’d told Fred that she could take care of it, but apparently Fred wanted to help. She would have preferred to do it herself, but she couldn’t very well turn away the offer without appearing ungracious.

“Come on in,” she said and pointed to the living room wall.

“Wow, kind of a shame to cover up a work of art,” Mike said as he set the can of paint down next to him.

She smiled. “To you and me, maybe a work of art. To somebody who wants to buy this place it might be considered an eyesore.”

“Guess you’re right,” he agreed. “I’ve got to go back
out to my truck and get some drop cloths and rollers. I’ll be right back.”

Reluctantly, Melody recognized it was probably for the best that Fred had sent Mike to help. She needed to get the place on the market as soon as possible and packing up Lainie’s things was taking longer than she’d expected. Packing up memories always took longer than a person anticipated, she thought.

By the time Mike had all the furniture and floor covered with drop cloths, the locksmith had arrived and the morning passed with a flurry of activity.

When the locksmith left she felt a new sense of security. Nobody who Lainie had given a key to the town house would be getting in now. She wasn’t giving a key to anyone.

Mike worked only an hour, then got a phone call and had to leave. He said he’d be back later that afternoon but she told him that would be inconvenient for her. She had shopping to do and pizza to make and she didn’t want anyone in there while she prepared for the night with Hank and Maddie.

By two o’clock Melody had all the groceries she needed for the meal and began making the dough for the crust. She liked to cook, found it cathartic.

As she worked, her thoughts once again returned to Hank. She hoped he didn’t think that she regularly offered herself up for meaningless affairs. She’d never done anything like that before. Maybe the stress she was under accounted for her intense attraction and her uncharacteristic forwardness to a man she hardly knew.

With the dough rising, she went into the living room
where she folded up the drop cloths Mike had put down and cleaned the room for company.

There had been little time for friendships in Melody’s life. Lainie had taken the role of sister, friend and confidante, rarely leaving time for anyone else in Melody’s life.

She’d begun to make friendships in Chicago, but there hadn’t been time to foster anything deep and meaningful. For the first time in her life she wished she had a girlfriend, somebody she could call and talk to about Hank and the crazy feelings she was developing for him. But there was nobody. She had to navigate the uncharted waters of pure lust on her own.

By five o’clock she had everything ready for the oven and the salad made and chilling in the refrigerator. She took a long, leisurely shower, then put on a pink sundress and pulled her hair up into a ponytail.

A touch of mascara, a dab of lipstick and simple gold hoops in her ears and she was set for her evening of entertaining.

At precisely six, a knock sounded on the door and she answered to see Maddie and Hank. “We got cheesecake for dessert,” Maddie said as she held a bakery box tight against her chest.

“Hmm, that’s my favorite dessert after chocolate-chip cookies,” Melody said as she took the box from Maddie. She smiled at Hank and instantly a ball of tension knotted up in her stomach.

That kiss.

The sight of him in his jeans and T-shirt, the scent of him as he walked past her into the living room, instantly evoked the memory of that kiss.

“Something smells good,” Hank said. He smiled and in the heat of that smile she had a feeling he was remembering their late-night kiss as well.

“Pizza sauce,” she said. “Come on into the kitchen. I’ve got everything ready but I thought Madeline might want to help me load the pizza before we pop it into the oven.”

“Okay,” she agreed with childish eagerness.

Within minutes they were all in the kitchen, Maddie and Melody at the counter and Hank seated at the table enjoying a cold beer.

“Daddy said you teach third grade,” Maddie said as she decorated the pizza with slices of pepperoni.

“I do,” Melody replied.

“So, you must like kids.”

“Sure, I think kids are terrific,” Melody said.

“Do you like to brush little girls’ hair?” Maddie asked.

Melody shot a glance at Hank, who shrugged his shoulders to indicate he had no idea where the conversation was going. “Would you like me to brush your hair after we eat?” Melody asked.

“Maybe you could put it up in a ponytail like yours?” Maddie asked.

“I think I could manage that,” Melody agreed.

For the next thirty minutes, as the pizza baked, they chatted about mundane things—favorite movies, favorite food and favorite things to do on lazy summer days.

For Melody it felt a bit like foreplay as she learned about the things Hank liked and didn’t like. He loved watermelon but didn’t like oranges. He enjoyed horseback riding and swimming but disliked jogging.

Maddie seemed to love everything and while they ate
their pizza and salad she kept them entertained with stories of friends from her school in Texas and all the places in town she and her grandmother had visited.

Melody found the interaction between Hank and his daughter strained. Hank seemed ill at ease around her and Maddie spent most of the evening talking to Melody.

After dinner they moved into the living room where Hank and Melody sat on the sofa and Maddie sat on the floor between Melody’s legs so Melody could brush her silky, fine dark hair.

“My mommy used to brush my hair every night, but Grandma never has time and Daddy doesn’t know how to do it right,” Maddie said as Melody worked. Melody’s heart squeezed with pain for the little girl who’d lost her mother.

“I see you’ve started working on painting,” Hank said and gestured to the wildflowers on the wall that had been partially painted over.

“Fred sent over a painter to take care of it. He was just here for a little while this morning and is supposed to come back tomorrow to finish it.”

“I can think of a few things I’d like to finish,” he replied beneath his breath.

Just that easily the memory of their kiss exploded in her head and brought with it a tension that was palpable in the air between them.

“I want it just like yours,” Maddie said, breaking the spell.

Melody pulled the last of Maddie’s hair up and secured it with an elastic band. “There,” she said. “Just like mine.”

“Thanks.” Maddie got up and ran to the hall mirror to admire her reflection.

“My mother is going to stop by here in a little while and get Maddie,” he said. “She’s going to spend the night with her grandma.”

“Grandma promised me we’d watch my favorite movie tonight,” Maddie said as she ran back into the living room.

“That sounds like fun,” Melody replied, still intensely aware of Hank seated next to her.

Maddie reached up and touched her ponytail. “Do I look like a cowgirl?”

“Like Annie Oakley herself,” Melody replied.

“Who is Annie Oakley?” Maddie asked.

The conversation that followed was about famous cowgirls and cowboys and by the time they’d finished with that, Hank’s mother arrived at the door.

Susan Tyler was an attractive woman with Hank’s blue eyes, a mop of graying dark hair and a friendly smile. She introduced herself to Melody with a firm handshake. “Maddie and Hank have been telling me all about you,” she said. “I’m so sorry about your sister.”

“Thank you. I’ve been enjoying the company of your granddaughter over the last couple of days.”

Susan smiled and cast a look of obvious love at Maddie. “I’ve told her she’s like a building rat, scurrying around here and there. I think she knows more gossip about the people in this building than anyone.”

“Mrs. Walker wears a wig,” Maddie quipped. “And Mr. Walker drinks too much.”

Susan laughed. “See what I mean?” She motioned to the little girl. “Come on, honey. Let’s go watch that
movie of yours. It was nice to finally meet you, Melody.” With that she and Maddie went out the door, leaving Melody alone with Hank.

He smiled at her, a lazy heated smile that warmed her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. “Now, how about we finish what we started last night.”

Hank had been on a slow simmer since she’d left his door the night before. The simmer had continued throughout this evening. As he’d watched her brushing Maddie’s hair he’d wanted to reach out and release Melody’s long dark hair from its band, feel the silky strands fall through his fingers and spill over his palms.

The sundress she wore emphasized her slender curves and exposed just enough skin to keep his imagination working overtime. As they’d eaten pizza, as they’d talked about everyday things, all he could think about was her offer for a meaningless summer fling.

“Did you mean what you said last night or was it just nerves talking?” he asked as she rejoined him on the sofa.

“You mean about being attracted to you? About being open for an uncommitted relationship?” She didn’t meet his gaze, but rather stared down at her hands in her lap, nerves jangling in her stomach.

He reached for one of her hands, and it was only then that her gaze met his. “It wasn’t nerves,” she said. “And I meant what I said, but I want you to know that I don’t go around offering myself to men like this on a regular basis.” Her cheeks filled with color.

He loved the fact that she blushed. He found that telltale color in her cheeks charming. “I know that,” he
replied. He released her hand and leaned back, not wanting to rush her, rush anything between them. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had any kind of a relationship with any woman.”

“How long has your wife been gone?”

“Two years. She died of breast cancer.” His voice felt strained even to his own ears.

She was quiet for a moment. “That’s a long time to be alone,” she finally replied.

“I’m not alone. I have Maddie.”

She frowned. “Not that it’s any of my business, but she seems to be angry with you.”

“She is.” His heart constricted as it always did when he thought of his daughter. “She doesn’t want me to take the job with Wild West Protective Services. She’s been angry with me since I sold our ranch and she certainly isn’t shy about telling anyone who will listen.”

She smiled. “She doesn’t seem to be shy about much of anything. Now I understand a question she asked me the other day.”

“What question was that?”

“Which I liked better, cowboys or bodyguards,” she replied.

Hank winced. “She’s made it clear to me that she prefers cowboys. I just hope she stops being angry with me before she reaches the volatile teen years.”

Melody laughed, then sobered slightly. “It’s obvious she loves you very much.”

“She’s my heart,” he replied gruffly, surprised by the wealth of emotion that suddenly rose up in the back of his throat.

Needing to get his daughter out of his head, he leaned over and touched the band securing her ponytail. “Do you mind? I’ve been thinking about letting your hair down all evening.”

“I don’t mind,” she said, her voice a little bit breathless.

Gently he pulled the cloth-covered elastic band from her hair, relishing the feel as the silky strands tumbled down around her shoulders and into his hands. “You have beautiful hair,” he said.

“I always wanted to be a blonde,” she said as he continued to caress her hair and her shoulders. The bare skin of her shoulders was warm and achingly soft beneath his fingers. “You know, blondes have more fun and all that.” She leaned her head forward as his hands smoothed across the back of her neck. “Although at the moment I can’t imagine a blonde in the world who is having more fun than me.”

He leaned in and placed his lips against the warm skin of her neck. “And I can’t think of a blonde in the world I want to be with right now,” he murmured.

He knew they were moving too fast, but he didn’t care and she didn’t seem to care either. He didn’t want consequences in the morning or in the days to come from whatever happened here tonight, but his want of her was greater than his good sense.

She turned in his arms to face him and he saw that the fire in her eyes matched the heat that burned in his groin. “We really don’t know each other well enough to even be considering this,” she said.

“You’re right,” he agreed as he dragged his index finger over her lips.

Her eyes flared darker. “I’m not looking for a relationship,” she said when his finger moved to the soft skin of her cheek. “I have a life to get back to.”