Protector. Diana Palmer

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Protector - Diana Palmer Mills & Boon M&B

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wasn’t going to say that she knew he had nobody else to look after him. No close family, no good friends except for Stuart York, who was in Europe with his wife, Ivy. It would have been unkind.

      “I know,” she said simply.

      She managed a smile as she went out the door.

      * * *

      Hayes was almost asleep when she came in with a tray. On it was a light supper of beef with gravy and mashed potatoes, with a faintly elaborate fruit salad on the side.

      “That’s more trouble than you should have gone to,” he began, propping up on the pillows.

      “No trouble at all. I like to try and make food look good.”

      “It does.”

      She settled the tray on his lap and removed the hot coffee to the side table. “Just so you don’t knock it over,” she explained. “The tray is a little flimsy.”

      He smiled. “No problem.”

      “Well, I’ll leave you to it,” she said after a minute. “There’s pecan pie for dessert.”

      “Wow.”

      She laughed. “You really don’t cook, do you?”

      He shook his head, his eyes closed on a wave of pleasure as he tasted the perfectly cooked roast beef. “This is delicious.”

      She smiled shyly. “I’m glad you like it.”

      “I’ve never had better food anywhere.”

      She laughed again. “Thanks.”

      He took a bite of mashed potatoes, perfectly seasoned, and savored them.

      “Your investigator wants to come and see you in the morning, to keep you up-to-date on the case,” she said suddenly. “Yancy thinks he may have a lead. I wanted to make sure you were feeling up to it first, though.”

      His face became somber. “I’ll be up to it. I want to find out who tried to kill me.”

      She nodded. “I don’t blame you for that. Copper said if you hadn’t moved when you did, it would have hit you square in the center of your forehead.”

      He was grim. “Yes. That means a professional hitman.”

      “That’s what Yancy thinks, too. The shot cartridge was from a sniper rifle, according to Cash Grier.”

      “It will be a short list of suspects,” he added quietly. “That sort of talent doesn’t come cheap.”

      “I know.”

      He had a sudden thought, and he frowned. “Don’t stick your nose in this,” he cautioned. “I don’t want you in the line of fire.”

      Her eyes widened.

      He glowered at her. “You have two little dependents who need nurturing,” he explained. “They don’t have anybody else.”

      “Bull. They have Aunt Sarah. She’d take care of them.”

      “Not like you do,” he replied.

      She smiled. “It’s one of the biggest stories of the year,” she pointed out. “And I’ve got an exclusive. You can’t leave.”

      “Excuse me?”

      She lifted an eyebrow. “We’ve got all your clothes in the wash, except the pajamas you’re wearing. Try walking home like that.”

      “Walking?”

      “Well, I’m not driving you or loaning you a vehicle,” she said matter-of-factly. Her eyes were twinkling. “You’d have to have help to break out of here, and I’ve already threatened everybody who knows you.” She leaned forward. “I know things about all of them and I own a newspaper.”

      He burst out laughing. “That’s not fair.”

      “Hey, this incredible scoop just landed in my lap and you think I’m going to give it up without a fight?”

      “Uh-huh,” he mused. “So that’s why you were so eager to give me a home while I mend.”

      “Caught me,” she laughed.

      He cocked his blond head and studied her with open curiosity. It sounded good. But he knew better. Minette didn’t have a poker face. At least, not a good one.

      She didn’t like that intent stare. It made her uncomfortable. “Stop that,” she muttered.

      He smiled at the color in her cheeks. She was pretty when she blushed. “Sorry.”

      “I was kidding,” she added after a minute. “You’re the best sheriff we’ve ever had. None of us want to lose you. There were lots of people who offered to take you in, you know. I was just quicker than the rest of them.”

      His dark eyes smiled into hers. “Okay. Thanks. And I’ll tell you what I can, when I figure out what’s going on.”

      “I know that.”

      “But you’re not printing a word until I give you a green light.”

      She crossed her heart.

      “I mean it.”

      She crossed her heart again.

      He laughed. “Well, we can argue later. Right now, my excellent mashed potatoes are getting cold.”

      “You go right ahead and eat. I’ll go check on the kids. Sarah or I will be back for the tray in a few minutes. Is the pain easing a bit?”

      He nodded. “Thanks,” he said stiffly.

      “I know you don’t like taking medicine,” she replied. “I know why.”

      The truce was over, just that quickly. He saw Bobby’s white, dead face, the track marks down his arms from drug abuse. Bobby had died of an overdose. Minette didn’t know that she was involved in that death. He wanted to tell her. He wanted her to know. But in the end, he heard his father’s voice, and his own promise, and he couldn’t do it.

      Minette grimaced. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m really, really sorry.”

      He averted his eyes. He started eating again and didn’t say another word.

      Minette went out and closed the door behind her, gritting her teeth. Of all the stupid, stupid things to say! She could have pinched herself. Just when they were getting along, she had to drag up a bitter memory and hit him in the face with it.

      “That’s the way, Minette,” she muttered to herself, “ruin everything, why don’t you?”

      Aunt Sarah glanced at her as she came into the kitchen. “Talking to yourself

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