Mara Fox - I Shocked The Sheriff

Despite the sheet covering her, apparently Luke could tell she wore no nightgown. Well, if the lawman had a problem with that, Roxy had the solution. “So take off your clothes and join me. You can show me your gun.” She giggled.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He shifted on his feet where he stood near the motel-room door.

She stretched on the bed provocatively, sticking her legs out from under the sheet.

He put his hand up to his forehead. “You’re a dangerous woman.”

“So come and give me a ticket.”

“For what?” he said, his voice tight.

She lowered the sheet from her shoulders toward her breasts. His eyes followed. It was as if with those deep brown eyes he touched each inch she revealed. “Indecent exposure.”

He swallowed. “Actually, I think I’m going to have to take you into protective custody.”

“Who will you be protecting me from?”

“Me.”

Dear Reader,

I’m so excited to introduce my first book. For me it’s both a happy ending and an exciting beginning. When I was writing Roxy’s story I knew a flawed yet feisty heroine might be a difficult sell. Fortunately, my editor saw the appeal of a character with a past. Roxy may be a bad girl, but she’s got a vulnerable heart.

Roxy comes from Dallas and she’s got it all—a trust fund with all the trappings. Raised by a staff of servants trying to mold a little redheaded girl into a debutante, she discovered that every act of rebellion got her the attention she craved. As a result, Roxy doesn’t hesitate to do anything that occurs to her and damn the consequences. She’s been down, but she’s never been out. And she’s never been in love.

Sheriff Luke Hermann loves his west Texas town. These are his people, and he’s always been able to anticipate trouble—until a long-legged gal drives her screaming yellow Porsche right into his heart….

I hope you enjoy this view of my home state of Texas. It would be so exciting to hear from you! You can write to me c/o Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.

Here’s to your own happy ending,

Mara Fox

I Shocked the Sheriff

Mara Fox

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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I dedicate this book to my own hero, Mark Horstman, who, once upon a time in Hawaii, sold his surfboards to buy a diamond ring….

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

ROXANNE ADAMS RAN her dry tongue over parched lips. “Damn. I’ve done it again.”

“Ohh,” she said as she raised her head and then rotated her neck. She grabbed the steering wheel in a punishing grip. The smell of vanilla car freshener filled her senses.

This time I’m safe in the Porsche.

Wearily she rested her head on the top edge of the steering wheel. She didn’t want to replay the episode from so long ago, but the nightmare scene from her last binge boiled over. The drunken man had lifted his head to tell her what a pretty girl she was. Naked, she’d looked up into his filthy face and had seen a mirror of what she’d become.

That vision kept her sober. That vision, the twelve steps, and all her friends from AA. It’d been over two years.

I can handle this. I can. I have to.

Tears moistened her gritty eyes. Sure, cry, you ninny, she told herself as she rubbed them. But Joey’s hanging on. He might have tried to kill himself, but he’s gonna get a second chance whether he wants to or not and this time he’ll make it.

Roxy groaned, then lifted her head from the steering wheel. She knew if she looked in the mirror there’d be a funny circle imprint on her forehead. It had happened before, more times than she cared to count. Sometimes she’d still been drunk and it had seemed funny, but not today.

Today, she was sober. She felt a cautious sense of elation.

Knocking on the window got her attention. She looked over into the condemning eyes of a man in a familiar uniform. That must have been what had awakened her. Why, oh why, had she driven out here?

But she knew. Driving out here had saved her.

“Open your door, please. I won’t ask you again.”

What was he going to do about it? Shoot out the windows? Drag her out of the car by her hair? The Porsche was legally registered in her name, a gift of love from her father for staying sober for a whole year. She’d tell this big, bad cop a thing or two…respectfully, of course.

No sense in ending up in a hick holding tank for sassing the local law. No matter how desperate her high school was for teachers, they’d fire her in a heartbeat if they found out she’d spent her summer vacation in a West Texas jail.

Funny, how the youngest person in her AA group had inspired her to use her degree to teach and mentor at the high school. Finding a purpose had helped her to stay sober, and watching over kids who had it rougher made her appreciate her life.

She grinned at the irony, relishing even this nowhere place and this nobody cop who’d come to rescue her. Wallowing in the sheer relief of being sober.

Roxy unlocked the car doors.

“Step out of the car slowly.”

She pushed herself away from the steering wheel. It didn’t do any good to argue with certain types of cops—his kind of cop. She could tell by the look in his frigid brown eyes.

Still sitting, facing forward, she put one tentative foot outside, grateful for the firmness of the ground and the rustle of dry grass beneath her sandal as a familiar wave of dizziness washed over her.

She breathed deeply, filling her lungs several times before she noticed him shifting in apparent frustration. “I’m sorry, officer. I’m unsteady this morning. Forgot my medication. Ran out of gas. An all-around unhappy morning.”

Roxy’s tone wasn’t flip, but it wasn’t placating, she didn’t have placating in her soul, no matter how many spectacular mistakes she’d made.

He looked her over as if she were roadkill. He’d likely found less pleasant company on the side of the road, but she guessed he wouldn’t admit it. She ran her tongue over her teeth. She hadn’t brushed them, but she hadn’t been drinking, either. Lucky for him, my breath won’t be too toxic.

“You think you could pass a Breathalyzer?” he asked.

Of course, a sheriff from Hicksville would assume the worst. She slung the other leg around the edge of the seat. There she sat facing him, feet on the ground, grass tickling her calves. She resisted the urge to tug on her very short shorts. It would just draw attention to her naked thighs. Out here, anyone not wearing jeans and cowboy boots probably ended up arrested for indecent exposure.

“I haven’t been drinking.” She tried on a smile. Flipped a hunk of hair over her shoulder. Let him think whatever he wanted to just as long as he gave her a lift to the nearest gas station with a rest room.

He looked her over. “What kind of medicine?”