Naughty, But Nice

“Because you were speeding,” he said in that patient—and incredible—voice that told her he thought she was the village idiot, not the other way around. Then he straightened and waved his ticket book. “The question now is, were you going fast enough to warrant reckless driving.”

Cassie never gaped, it went against the grain, but she did so now. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

As he had before, he leaned in, resting his weight on his arm, which lay across her open window. It wasn’t a beefy arm, or a scrawny one, but somewhere in between, more on the side of tough and sinewy.

Again, not that she was noticing. He was probably a jackass, as Richard Taggart had been. He was probably prejudiced against anything different from his small-town norm. He was probably mean-spirited and stupid, as well—most men that good-looking were. For the second time she considered going the batting-the-eyelashes route. It would work. She’d been rendering men stupid with her looks for a very long time now.

In that spirit, she put her saucy smile in place to butter him up. His slate-blue eyes went as sharp as stone. He wasn’t going to fall for the saucy smile, damn it, so she let it fade. “Look, I wasn’t reckless driving. And you already know who I am so the license isn’t really necessary.”

In front of them, an older couple started to cross the street. Cassie ignored them until they stopped and stared at her, then started whispering furiously to themselves. Recognition came sharply to Cassie—they’d run the drugstore years ago, where she’d done her best to prove to the town she was just as wild as they thought by purchasing condoms regularly. “Oh, forget it,” she said on a sigh. “Just do what you have to do.”

“Which would be what, do you think?”

Well, hopefully it wouldn’t be to make her get out of the car so he could try to feel her up. “You could let me go.”

He smiled at that. A slow, wide smile that had her heart skipping a beat. “But you were speeding.”

“Maybe I’m in a hurry to get out of here.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time, so I hear.”

Now what would he know about her fast exit after graduation? She took another long look at him, squinting through the bright sun to see his name. Taggart. Oh, my God. “You’re…”

“Sheriff Sean Taggart. You can call me Tag, most do.”

Suddenly she could hardly breathe. She couldn’t have managed a smile to save her life. Pulling back, she stared straight ahead out her windshield. “You’re Richard’s son.”

“That would be correct.”

It wasn’t bad enough she’d had to put her entire life on hold because some jerk had decided if he couldn’t have her, he’d terrorize her. Or that she had to be here while her life was on hold. No, she had to run into her old nightmares to boot. That, added to her current nightmares…God, she needed a cigarette.

Too bad she’d quit smoking five years ago. “Just give me my ticket then.”

He was silent for so long she broke her own code and turned to look at him. Silent—still, even—but not idle. His eyes reflected all sorts of interesting things, mostly curiosity. “You know my father.”

No. Her mother had known him. Cassie had just hated and feared him. “The ticket?”

“Now you’re in a hurry to get your ticket? What’s up, Cassie?”

The sound of her first name in his incredibly sensuous voice seemed so…intimate. “Like I said, I’m in a hurry to get out of here.”

“Are you on your way out then? Already?”

She opened her mouth to remind him that was none of his business but her cell phone rang. It was Kate.

“Did you get there yet?” came her worried voice across the line. “Are you okay? How is it? You run into anyone we know? Talk to me.”

Cassie stared up at the tall, dark and intensely handsome sheriff. “Kate, your timing is something.”

“Oh, honey. Who is it? That mean old Mrs. McIntyre? Mrs. Wilkens? Because if it is—”

“As a matter of fact,” Cassie said, slowly smiling as her and Tag’s gazes locked. “It’s Sheriff Taggart.”

“Is that old fart still sheriff?”

“No, Tag here is Richard’s son.” When her gaze ran down the front of him, slowly, across his broad shoulders and what looked like a very promising chest and flat belly, over his trousers, which lovingly cupped powerful thighs and everything in between, then back up again, he lifted a daring brow, then gave her the same slow perusal.

Good, she thought in triumph. He was just a man after all, a man run by the equipment between his legs. A man who’d possibly forget to write that ticket due to the fact her little yellow sundress not only matched the car she’d bought herself last year but also accented the body she’d been well paid for over the years.

“Cassie,” Kate said into her ear. “I worry about you there, all alone.”

“I’m used to being alone.” Funny how that worked. She was surrounded by people all day long and yet it was true. She was utterly alone.

“I mean because of your stalker.”

Cassie’s stomach tightened with the fear she pretended not to feel and glanced at Tag, who was unabashedly eavesdropping. “I’m safe enough here.” She hoped.

“The guy slashed all your tires in the hopes of leaving you stranded, remember?”

“I do.”

“And then he ruined two photo shoots—”

“I remember all of it, Kate.”

“I’m sorry, of course you do. Okay, subject change. You going to be okay facing what Flo left you?”

That had been a shocker. That her mother had actually come out on the winning side after all, after always being considered the town joke. Seems the men in her life had come through, over the years gifting her a prime piece of real estate downtown, an amazing turn-of-the-century house on Lilac Hill overlooking town, and supposedly some other equally valuable things she needed Cassie to take care of. Cassie still couldn’t believe it.

“Cassie?”

“I’m okay, Mom,” she said, and accomplished what she’d wanted. Kate laughed.

“Call me back.”

“Oh, I will.” She clicked off and tossed the phone into the back seat. Then looked at Tag. “So…”

Tag looked right back. “What do you mean, you’re safe enough here?”

“It’s considered rude to eavesdrop.”

“Talk to me, Cassie.”

Oh, right. Terrified as she might be in the deep dark of night, she’d rather face the boogeyman bare-ass naked before asking this man for help. “If I do, can we skip the ticket?”

Now he laughed and, good Lord, she hoped that wasn’t a weapon he used often because just the sound could make a grown woman quiver with delight. She was fighting doing just that—uniform or not—when he flipped open the ticket book and started writing.

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