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The pain had been banked down, but never forgotten. That
hurt and humiliation, all the terror and loss, rose up and poured forth. It
transformed into pure nastiness as it emerged from her mouth.
    “You want a blow job, Sheriff
Murdoch? I believe I can accommodate you. Is this kind of like a bribe—paying a
fine, as it were ?”
    Her strategy worked. He visibly
recoiled, sensuous mouth setting hard, his green eyes narrowing. She had
intuitively known how offended he would be by her reaction. She had counted on
it, and made to go to her knees. He forestalled her with a hand against her
hip—it burned like a brand, and she staggered back.
    Rising to his feet, he pushed into
her space, locking his eyes with hers, and against her better judgment she
wished he would kiss her. Take her choice away so she could have him once again
and put the blame on his shoulders.
    “Pushed too hard,
too fast, Candace. That wall you’ve built is taller and thicker than I
realized. What’s made you so hard, darlin’?”
    As if he didn’t know. But if he
really didn’t, if he had no idea of what his leaving had done to her, she
wasn’t going to enlighten him. “I’m okay with who I am.”
    Studying her for another agonizing
moment in time, he then shrugged and stepped around her to retrieve her
overnight bag. “I’ll show you your room.”
    “What?” After she got miles away from
this infuriating man she was going to purge that word from her vocabulary.
    “Under arrest,
Candace. This’ll be better than a holding cell.”
    “I’d be out of that cell with one
phone call, Sheriff, and you well know it.” She didn’t know what kind of game
he was playing, but it was spiraling out of her control.
    “Well, girl, that might be true,
but I thought I’d spare you dealing with your father.”
    God. He was stooping to blackmail
now. She weighed out the two options, if he was even giving her the choice, and
thought that for her emotional wellbeing it would be worth calling her daddy.
But Reece forestalled her.
    “No deal, darlin’. I’m the law
here.” The humor underlying his edict did not sit well, and she railed inwardly,
feeling powerless, seeing her time in Sheridan slip away. Because what he’d awoken in her was simmering to a boil, and no way
was she going to let him find out.
    With a wistful glance toward the
front door, feet dragging, she trudged after him, into a small room furnished
with a double bed, a single nightstand and a tall chest of drawers. A handmade
ring quilt covered the bed, and the deep colors warmed the room. Reece flicked
on the small lamp on the stand, and gestured to a door on the opposite wall.
    “There’s a bathroom there.”
    With an exasperated sigh, she said,
“How do you expect to get away with keeping me here against my will?”
    “Candace, I impounded your vehicle
because I picked you up for speeding. For the third time. You can’t get out of that. But I brought you here so we can talk, uninterrupted,
and honestly. You aren’t interested in complying tonight, so we’ll try again
tomorrow.”
    “And when I tell people what you’ve
done?”
    He shrugged. “If you do I guess
I’ll deal with it, but I’m betting you won’t.”
    He was right. Her daddy would
probably kick his ass, figuratively, and cost him his job, but people would
talk and treat her like—she didn’t want to be that girl again.
    “No, darlin’, this isn’t about
creating any issues for you.” He was reading her like an open book. “I’m
thinking we’ll address whatever is holding things up between us and get it
resolved.”
    He could fucking
well think again. “There is nothing to resolve. I want my things and a ride to my car.”
    Tossing her bag on the bed, he
moved to the door, passing close enough she could feel the heat emanating from
his body.
    “I’ll be up for a while if you want
to join me. Talk things out. Sure you don’t want anything?”
    “Just what I told you.”
    “ G’night , darlin’.”