Linda Castillo - Cops and…Lovers?

Regardless of his flaws, she couldn't deny Nick Ryan was something to look at with those coffee-brown eyes, his brooding demeanor and unforgiving mouth. He disturbed her. He infuriated her. He appealed to her more than any man had in too many years to count.

But even more disturbing was the fact that her attraction to him didn't stop with the physical. The flash of emotion in his expression when he'd told her he was a widower, the anguish on his face when confronted with his daughter's pain. Something had shifted inside Erin when she saw that sad little girl transform him from hardened cop to lonely widower struggling to cope with a devastating situation. She knew firsthand the many faces of pain, and Nick Ryan had it etched into every feature. No matter how hard she'd tried to resist, that part of the man touched her deeply. So how was she supposed to deal with that?

"By ignoring it, of course," Erin muttered as she lowered her flag and crossed the street to a group of children. Traffic stopped, and she motioned to the children. "Okay, kids, it's safe to cross! Have fun at school today!"

Just because the chief of police was drop-dead gorgeous and had a human side to boot didn't mean she was going to act on some banal impulse and blow this job. Quite the contrary. Erin could handle her hormones-she always had. The fact that Nick didn't even like her would undoubtedly help. They had completely opposite philosophies on law enforcement. That should keep them on opposing sides long enough for her to get over this… fascination-if she could even call it that.

The group of children crossed the street behind Erin. "Don't forget to look both ways when crossing," she said over the din of young voices.

The children had just reached the other side when a little girl in a pink sweater dropped one of her papers. "My picture!" she exclaimed as the breeze picked it up and tumbled it along the pavement.

The traffic remained stopped, so Erin wasn't concerned. Thank goodness road rage didn't exist here in Logan Falls, she thought wryly. She raised the flag higher, making sure she had the attention of the driver in the first car. The young woman behind the wheel rolled her eyes and smiled.

Erin looked over her shoulder at the child. The little girl scrambled for the paper, catching it just a few feet away from Erin. "I got it!" she said.

The low roar of an engine drew Erin 's attention. A dark sedan broke from the line of traffic several cars back. She saw a chrome grille. The sun glinting off a darkened windshield. Anger pumped through her that an impatient driver would endanger innocent school children.

She raised the flag and angrily motioned for the driver to pull over. The car picked up speed, the engine whining like a jet engine.

"What the-" Her anger turned quickly to disbelief when the driver cut the wheel and came straight for her. There was no time to react. Her only thought was that she couldn't let the little girl in the pink sweater get hurt.

Spinning, Erin grabbed the child's arm and shoved her. The engine whined. She dove. A scream pierced the air-her own-followed by the sound of steel against flesh. The impact spun her in midair. Pain jolted through her right hip. An instant later, the pavement rushed up, and she tumbled into darkness.

Nick's pulse was still hammering when he walked into the Parke County Hospital and headed toward the emergency room. He hated hospitals on principle. He hated this hospital in particular, since it was in this very same emergency room three years before that his life had been turned upside down by another woman who'd taken one too many risks-and paid the ultimate price.

He hadn't wanted to make the connection between Erin and Rita. He hadn't wanted to bridge that treacherous gap. But he could no longer deny what disturbed him so much about his new deputy. Aside from the fact that he was attracted to her beyond reason, Erin was a risk taker. He'd seen it on her résumé. He'd heard it in Frank's voice during the recommendation. Nick had experienced it firsthand the day before, when he'd watched her fight off a suspect twice her size.

Only he had been too caught up in denial to acknowledge the truth about her. The pain was too great, or maybe he'd just buried it too deep.

Rita, the woman he'd loved more than life itself for thirteen years, had been a risk taker. She'd been impulsive. Careless. Rash. She'd died because of it, and taken something vital and precious from Nick in the process. His heart. His daughter's happiness. His own. He couldn't tolerate recklessness. Not as police chief. Not as a friend. Certainly not as anything more.

He wanted to blame Erin for getting herself hurt. He wanted to condemn her. Hell, he wanted to fire her. What had happened today seemed like as good a reason as any. He didn't care about being fair. He wanted to get her out of his life and rid himself of this insane attraction to her once and for all.

The problem was that Nick knew the incident hadn't been her fault. He'd spent the last two hours investigating the scene. Witness after damning witness had absolved Erin of wrongdoing. No, he thought bitterly, she hadn't been at fault. And even though she hadn't given so much as a thought to her own safety, he couldn't condemn her for saving that little girl's life.

The nurse at the station outside the emergency room doors looked up when Nick strode past, but she didn't try to stop him. He figured she'd seen his sour expression too many times to try to keep him out. He shoved open the doors and paused in time to hear a familiar female voice utter a curse. Something resembling relief flooded him. He told himself he wasn't unduly relieved to hear Erin cursing the on-call doctor. Of course, that didn't explain why his hands were still shaking.

Frowning, he stepped past the floor-to-ceiling curtain and into the fray of the emergency room. On his left, a woman held a crying child while a nurse applied drops to his ears. To his right a small boy in a baseball cap received stitches in his knee, initiating him into the Little League hall of fame. Nick scanned the room, his gaze seeking a blue uniform and a mass of silky red-brown hair.

His breath lodged in his throat when he spotted her. She was lying on a gurney, looking more annoyed than injured. A doctor in green scrubs hovered over her. The cold knot in Nick's gut slowly unraveled. She still wore her uniform pants, but her shirt had been replaced with a hospital gown. He tried not to notice the way the soft material lay against her breasts. He didn't want to see her as a woman-she was his deputy, for God's sake. He sure didn't like seeing her vulnerable, either. His need to protect was too strong. He didn't want anything to do with the lofty task of looking out for a woman who hadn't the good sense to do it herself.

She raised her head. Her body gave a little jerk when she spotted him. Uncertainty darkened her gaze. A tentative smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.

He walked slowly to the gurney, where the on-call doctor was putting in the last of four stitches in a nasty-looking gash at her temple.

"McNeal." Why was it that every time he spoke her name his voice sounded like a rusty nail being pried out of a petrified tree?

"I was wondering when you'd come by to fire me." She looked at her watch. "Two hours. You're slipping."

He stopped next to the gurney and frowned at her. Her hair had come loose from her bun and lay softly against the pillow. Nick repressed the urge to touch it, just to see how it felt between his fingers.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Once the doc stops sticking me with that blasted needle I'll be just fine," she grumbled.

Nick looked at the doctor. "I take it she's going to be okay?"

"She's mildly concussed," the doctor said, his eyes never leaving the small head wound he was stitching. "A few abrasions and contusions. A deep bruise on her hip that's going to be sore for a few days. This is the only wound that needed closing."