LITMIR.BIZ

      Joan Marlow Golan

       Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

      A Lawman in Her Stocking

      Kathie DeNosky

      KATHIE DENOSKY

      lives in her native southern Illinois with her husband, three children and two very spoiled dogs. She writes highly sensual stories with a generous amount of humor. Kathie’s books have appeared on the Waldenbooks bestseller list. She enjoys going to rodeos, traveling to research settings for her books and listening to country music. She often starts her day at 2:00 a.m., so she can write without interruption, before the rest of the family is up and about. You may write to Kathie at P.O. Box 2064, Herrin, IL 62948-5264 or e-mail her at [email protected].

      To Rox, Belinda and Ginny.

       Thanks for sharing the laughter and fun. Love you guys.

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Epilogue

      One

      “Sheriff? Are you in here?”

      At the sound of the female voice echoing through the cavernous firehouse side of Tranquillity’s Sheriff’s Office and Fire Department, Dylan Chandler’s stomach twisted into a tight knot and the hair on the back of his neck stood straight up. He hated when a woman used that tone—fear tinged with indignation. In all his years as an officer of the law, he’d never seen it fail to be the prelude to big trouble.

      He gripped the rafter with his gloved hand to steady himself, glanced down over his bare shoulder and stifled a groan. He’d been right in his assessment. Tranquillity’s newest resident, Brenna Montgomery, looked like she’d seen a ghost, and it appeared that she’d been thoroughly pissed off by the encounter, too.

      Dylan had only seen her once before, and that had been from a distance. He’d arrived late the night she’d shown up at the town council meeting to apply for a permit to open her craft shop, so they hadn’t been formally introduced. And if her expression held any clue to the nature of her visit now, he didn’t think he’d be able to work up much enthusiasm for getting acquainted.

      Maybe if he remained silent, she wouldn’t notice him dangling from a rope high above her head and wander back into the adjoining sheriff’s office. At least long enough for him to climb down and put on his shirt.

      But sure as shootin’, she spotted the end of the rope dangling close to the wall, her gaze following it to his less than dignified position among the rafters of the firehouse. He groaned. Nothing left to do now but introduce himself.

      “I’m Sheriff Chandler. What can I do for you, ma’am?”

      He braced his feet against the wall, rappelled down to where she stood, and grabbed his shirt. Shrugging into it, he jammed the tail into his jeans as he waited for her to say something.

      When she remained silent and continued to stare at him, he decided she probably thought he was some kind of a nut. Either that, or his fly was open. He made a show of glancing at his boots. His zipper was closed, but he still wore the climbing harness around his waist and upper thighs. Snug as it was, the webbed straps pulled his jeans tight and brought the male parts of his anatomy into stark relief.

      “What did you need, Ms. Montgomery?” he prompted as he hastily removed the nylon straps and tossed them on the chair where his shirt had been.

      The dazed look in her pretty blue eyes suddenly cleared and her cheeks colored a rosy pink. Averting her astonished gaze to the rafters, she asked, “Why on earth were you hanging from the ceiling?”

      Hot damn! She’d been checking him out.

      In an effort to hide the grin pulling at the corners of his mouth, he used the cuff of his sleeve to buff a spot of imaginary dust from the silver star pinned to his chambray shirt. “I had to test some new climbing equipment for the Search and Rescue Team.”

      She nodded, but kept silent as she glanced around the firehouse. He almost laughed out loud. It seemed the lady was having trouble looking him in the eye.

      After several moments of awkward silence, Dylan placed his hand at her lower back and guided her through the door into the adjoining sheriff’s office. Walking behind the desk, he flexed his hand in an effort to stop the tingling that ran the length of his arm and spread throughout his torso. He’d probably been gripping the rope too tight, he decided. It was just plain ridiculous to think it had anything to do with feeling the warmth of her skin through the crisp fabric of her blouse.

      “Now, why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you, Ms. Montgomery?”

Скачать книгу