cow hats if she’d wanted him to.
He’d seen the flutter of her pulse at the base of her throat when he’d pulled her close, felt the sudden rise of heat from her smooth skin. And those soft, firm breasts pressed against his chest had him aching to the point of pain. He’d been close enough to kiss her—nearly had, in fact, until she’d pushed him away. And in spite of her indignant formality with him, he’d had the distinct feeling that she’d wanted him to kiss her.
Sam looked at her now, at her squared shoulders, her long, lovely neck held high with all the grace of royalty. It gave him extreme satisfaction to know that he’d rattled the cool Ms. Courtland’s cage, if only for a moment. He’d have to work on stretching that moment out. Like, an entire night. Or two, he thought with a smile. She’d be stuck here at least until Monday morning, when he could prove to her Digger’s “estate” consisted of little more than some restaurant equipment and mining supplies. Once she realized she’d made a mistake, she’d be on the next plane out of Midland Airport. A pity, he thought, his gaze skimming over the curve of her hips and long legs.
The ladies joined the men and Jake, almost as if he’d been reading Sam’s mind, asked Faith how long she’d be staying.
She slid her baby-blue eyes in Sam’s direction. “Actually, that depends on Sam. I wouldn’t want to impose, but my...uncle, being an old friend of Digger’s and unable to travel since his surgery, asked if I would take a few days and visit with those people who knew Digger well. He thought I might bring back a few stories.”
A few days? Sam lifted a brow as he held Faith’s gaze. She could be out of here before noon day after tomorrow. Why would she stay longer than that? Not that he minded, of course, but it just didn’t make any sense. This woman was getting harder to read by the moment.
“Come for Sunday dinner tomorrow night,” Savannah offered. “We’ve all got a story or two you can take back to your uncle. We’re about as close to family as Digger ever had.”
Though it was subtle, Sam noticed Faith’s hesitation, the tightening of her body, the imperceptible narrowing of her eyes. She’d been caught in her own web of fabrication, Sam thought, and that pristine sense of propriety of hers refused to let her turn down Savannah’s invitation. She had gotten herself into it, he thought with annoyance. He had no intention of bailing her out. More than likely, she was already imagining an evening that would be more boring than watching a tree grow.
Still, as she thanked Savannah, Sam heard a slight tremble in Faith’s voice that had him wondering.
“Couldn’t help but overhear you were looking to talk to some of Digger’s friends.” Irv Meyers, the deputy sheriff, strutted into the tight circle. “Digger and me were best buddies.”
Best buddies, my eye.
Sam frowned at the owl-faced man. “Was that before or after Digger chased you down the street with a baseball bat?” he asked.
Irv tugged defensively at the belt circling his thick waist. “I warned him plenty before I gave him that parking ticket. Digger knew that. He never held a grudge.”
Everyone laughed at that, causing Irv’s face to redden. Anyone who knew Digger at all, knew damn well he hadn’t spoken to Irv in two years.
“Thank you, Deputy Meyers.” Faith held out her hand and Irv nearly tripped over his feet as he took it. “I’ll be sure to call you.”
The list of Digger’s “best buddies” kept growing, much to Sam’s annoyance. With the word out—and the word did travel fast—that Faith wanted to talk to people about Digger, every unmarried male in town, not to mention a few married ones, suddenly had a story.
Sam was about to step in and break up the crowd when he felt a hand on his arm. Carol Sue, with her fiery red hair and seductive smile, held out a slice of chocolate cake.
“Thought you might like some sweets,” she said with a throaty whisper, batting her big green eyes at him, suggesting she was offering more than cake.
With a smile that came to Sam as automatically as a heartbeat, he took the cake and sniffed at it. “Umm. You always been a mind reader, Carol Sue?”
Her lips curved upward slowly, like a cat who’d just spied a mouse. “I bet I could guess what you’re thinking right now,” she purred.
He hoped not. Sam knew if the redhead had even an inkling that while he was accepting cake from her he was thinking about Faith Courtland’s luscious lips, he’d be washing chocolate frosting out of his hair for a week. “My thoughts might shock you, darling,” Sam said with a wicked gnn.
“Why don’t you call me later and we’ll see who shocks whom.” She walked away, waggling her fingers. When Sam turned back to the circle of men who’d surrounded Faith, he noticed she was gone.
Frowning, he set about looking for her in the hall—casually, of course—but she was nowhere to be seen. He strolled nonchalantly to the lobby of the hotel, wondering if she’d gone to the ladies’ room, when he spotted her sitting by herself outside in the covered courtyard.
She looked small in the oversized wicker chair. Her shoulders were hunched slightly forward, her eyes cast downward, her expression one of absolute despair. He had no idea what had prompted her sudden melancholy, but it appeared that she wanted to be left alone.
As he continued to watch her, despite his good sense and scruples, he couldn’t shake the lure of her vulnerability. There were two women here: one cool and distant, in control; the other crestfallen and weary. Both of them were extremely appealing.
The sadness in her eyes drew him to her. He sat beside her, and she immediately stiffened. He could see her struggle to compose herself. It was a battle hard-won.
“Tired?”
She started to shake her head, then smiled softly. “Maybe a little.”
He gave her a sly, half grin. “I’ve got just the thing.”
Her expression was guarded now, but curious. “And that is?”
“Chocolate ”
He leaned close, stabbing a big bite of cake along with a healthy dose of frosting and holding it to her lips. She eyed it like a penniless child outside a candy store, then put up a hand and shook her head.
He waved it under her nose, watched her stiff shoulders melt as she breathed in the exquisite fragrance. Her eyes closed halfway, as if she were floating on a sea of physical delight.
He’d only meant to comfort her, ease whatever mood had overcome her. But now, as he watched her willpower succumb to the rich scent of the chocolate, he knew he wanted this woman, wanted her under him, with that same expression, his name on her lips, her hands on his skin.
And when she gave in and opened her lips for a taste, then moaned softly, he thought he just might drop to his knees right there.
“Sinful,” she whispered, her voice filled with an ecstasy that had Sam grinding his back teeth.
He wanted to taste her—taste the chocolate mingling with her own warm, sensuous flavor—with a desperation that nearly brought a sweat to his brow. He eased back, shocked by the force of the need ripping through him, and angry with himself that just when he’d finally gotten
