Should Have Been Her Child. Stella Bagwell
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“What’s this all about?” she asked without preamble.
His lips twisted and once again her gaze zeroed in on achingly familiar features. The square jaw, jutted chin and eyes as gray as an angry thundercloud. He was not a handsome man. He was simply all male. Rough. Tough. And oh, so irresistible. She’d never wanted any man the way she’d wanted this one. And since him, she hadn’t wanted any.
“I should have known there would be no ‘hello, Jess,’ or ‘how are you doing, Jess?’”
The directness of his stare dared her to look away from him. Victoria’s chin lifted ever so slightly at the challenge.
“I didn’t expect you to want a greeting from me,” she said.
He moved toward her and didn’t stop until there was only the width of his hand separating the two of them. “I expect common courtesy from everyone. Including you Ketchum.”
Her blood was pumping through her veins at such a high rate she actually felt light-headed. It was all she could do to stop herself from grabbing the front of his starched shirt just to keep herself from swaying.
“I didn’t hear you asking about my well-being,” she retorted.
His eyes took their slow, easy time slipping over her long dark hair, soft white skin, blue-green eyes and full red lips. She was as gorgeous as he remembered. Maybe even more so, if that was possible.
For four years he’d tried to forget the image of this woman. How she’d felt in his arms and in his bed. For a while he’d believed that given time he’d be able to exorcise her from his mind. And there were days when he did manage to shake her memory for a few hours. Then she was always back, haunting his past, spoiling his future.
“Hello, Victoria. How are you?”
The softly spoken question was not what she’d been expecting. Even as her senses scattered, she struggled not to let him see what she was thinking. Feeling. Seeing him again shouldn’t be doing this to her. But damn it, Jess Hastings was the one and only thing that could unsettle her.
“If you really want to know, I was fine until I heard that lawmen had invaded the T Bar K.”
One corner of his mouth tilted upward into a semblance of a smile. “I wouldn’t call it an invasion. There’s only two of us here. Myself and Deputy Redwing.”
She desperately needed to turn and walk away. To put a few feet between them so that she could breathe without drawing in his seductive scent, so that she could look at anything other than his chiseled lips and damning eyes. But where she was concerned, Jess had always been a magnet. She couldn’t move away. Not just yet.
“So you’re the undersheriff now,” she said softly. “What happened to your job with the border patrol?”
The grooves bracketing his lips deepened with a tight grimace. “I resigned. For personal reasons.”
Even though Victoria was in an occupation that exposed her to many people and even more gossip, she’d never heard anyone say why Jess Hastings had returned to San Juan County four months ago. And she’d not been brave enough to ask. But now the question was on the tip of her tongue, making her bite down to keep the words from passing her lips.
“How’s your medical practice?” he asked.
“Very busy.”
Her short answer told him she didn’t want to discuss her life with him. Which didn’t surprise Jess. She’d stopped wanting to share anything with him a long time ago.
“I guess you’re wanting to know what I’m doing here?”
She nodded once. “It would help.”
To her surprise, he took hold of her upper arm and led her to a nearby leather couch. Before she sank onto one of the cushions she was struck with the fact of how mushy her knees had grown and how her arm burned where he touched her.
Easing down beside her, Jess pulled off his Stetson and combed his fingers through his short, sandy hair.
“I suppose you know the ranch hands have been out searching for Ross’s stallion,” he began.
“Yes. But Marina informed me that he hasn’t been found.”
Jess stroked his fingers along one side of his jaw as he studied her waiting eyes.
“No. The men found something else,” he said grimly. “A body.”
She wanted to gasp, but the air was suddenly trapped in her lungs. She shook her head, then shook it again. “Did you say a body?”
He continued to search her face. “That’s right. Partially decomposed. But enough to tell us it was human and we think male.”
“Oh dear Lord,” she whispered. “Who—”
“I’ve been questioning your family and some of the hands on the ranch,” he answered her unfinished question. “No one seems to have any idea of who this person might have been or why he was on the T Bar K. I was hoping you might be able to tell me something.”
Incredulous, her gaze latched on to his. “Me? How could I know anything?”
One sandy brow lifted sardonically. “You live here, too.”
“Yes, but I don’t know—” She stopped, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. “This body—are you—do you think there was foul play involved or someone just came along and died of natural causes or an accident?”
His thumb and forefinger slid along the brim of his hat, flattening any bumps or dips from the expensive felt. She tried not to notice his big hands or remember the pleasure they used to give her.
“You’re a doctor. You know it takes time to determine those sorts of things.”
She drew in a needy breath, then slowly released it. “Yes. But—there might have been clues—”
His smile was slow and a bit too indulgent for Victoria’s liking. But then, she didn’t want Jess Hastings to smile at her in any way or for any reason. He was a silver-tongued wolf who’d gobbled up her heart, then spit out the pieces.
“Those are to be shared with the sheriff’s department,” he said shortly. “Not the Ketchum family.”
She wanted to stand and walk away from him, but she was afraid her legs wouldn’t hold her, so she stayed where she was and tried to hold her temper in check. Crossing words with Jess would get her nowhere.
“Well, I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can tell you.”
“You might be surprised about that,” he said quietly.
She tried not to shiver as a strange chill traveled down her spine. “You can’t think I would know anything about this person.”
His expression didn’t change. “Oh, I don’t know. I have a habit of thinking things I shouldn’t.