Rita Herron - Beneath the Badge

The last time she woke, sunlight streamed through the hospital window, and she checked the chair. He was slightly slumped, his head having fallen sideways in sleep, and his massive chest moved up and down with his breath. Catching him off guard in sleep seemed somehow intimate.

She noticed the fine dark stubble along his rugged jaw, the way his thick lips formed a constant scowl, the little curl in his dark hair that made her want to run her hands through it. His jaw was broad, his nose blunt and slightly crooked as if it had been broken and his eyebrows were full and thick, arched to frame his eyes in a way that added to his intensity.

The sound of his breathing floated toward her, a coarse whisper just as masculine as his face and body.

Somehow in that moment, he looked almost…human. And approachable.

He suddenly opened his eyes, his gaze meeting hers, and a tingling started low and deep in her belly. Lord, he was potently sexy. Like a cowboy hero in a Western.

No, no, no. She couldn’t allow herself to fantasize about him.

His eyebrows lifted slightly, and a heartbeat of silence stretched between them, fraught with tension.

She must be insane because at that moment she wanted him.

Then the door swung open and the doctor walked in. “Good morning, Miss Landis. Let’s see if it’s time to dismiss you.”

Hayes pushed to his feet, his boots pounding as he walked to the door. “I’ll be outside. Let me know when you’re ready to leave.”

She nodded, although her throat was too thick to speak. She could count on her hand the number of men she’d actually been this attracted to over the years.

Why did Hayes Keller have to be one of them?

HAYES PACED OUTSIDE TAYLOR’S hospital room. What in the hell had just happened?

After endless hours of being tortured by watching Taylor toss and turn, of wanting to crawl in bed and comfort her when she’d cried out in terror from her nightmares, he’d finally dozed off, only to have his own demons haunt him.

He had been five years old, locked in that damn closet where his adopted parents stuffed him anytime they needed to go out. Or when they just needed some peace and quiet.

Or when they wanted to punish him for being bad. And according to them, he was bad all the time so he’d spent half his young life in that tiny dark closet.

He still had claustrophobia. Hated dark closets, basements and crawl spaces.

Hell, he was a grown man now. Had his own life. A nice little cabin he’d built himself on a small ranch with tons of light where no one could bother him, where he’d never be stuck in that dark place again.

And he wouldn’t…not even in his mind.

He had escaped and had a job to do, and he’d damn well do it without allowing Taylor to get under his skin like she had earlier.

He’d survived that hellhole of a family. He could survive being assigned as her bodyguard.

All the more reason to find her attacker quickly, though, so he could leave Cantara Hills.

The door opened and the doctor appeared, Taylor’s chart in hand. “She’s dressing, then she can go home.”

He nodded. Margaret had brought Taylor an overnight bag. A nurse appeared with a wheelchair, and he went and retrieved his SUV from the parking garage, then pulled up in front of the hospital. Taylor climbed in and fastened her seat belt, and he maneuvered into the early morning traffic and drove to Cantara Hills.

“If we’re forced to spend time together, we should get to know each other,” Taylor said, filling the awkward silence.

He glared at her. “I intend to learn everything about you.”

Her blond brows rose, eyes sparkling. “Really?”

He pressed his mouth into a frown. “Yes, and all your friends.”

The light left her eyes. “Then tell me about yourself. About your family.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’m here to do a job, Taylor. My personal life is off-limits.”

For a brief second, hurt tugged at her expression.

He turned away from her, refused to feel guilty. “I need to go by my room at the country club and pick up my duffel bag.”

“Excuse me?” she said quietly.

“I told you I’m your bodyguard. That means I’m moving in.”

She shivered and hugged her arms around her waist. “I certainly hope you find whoever did this quickly.”

He chuckled. She obviously didn’t want him around any more than he wanted to be with her. “That’s the plan. In fact, I’d like to clean up and then I want to talk to your brother and Kenneth Sutton.”

She stared out the window, her expression pained. “I just can’t believe one of them would try to kill me.”

He clamped his mouth shut. She was too damn innocent. Just because these people were related to her or acted as if they were her friends, didn’t mean they didn’t have secrets or a motive for murder.

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