Blue Jeans and a Badge by Nina Bruhns

fence guys looking for a little lady to put it around. Luce had no plans to be fenced in—no matter how sexy the man looked in his well-fitting jeans and cowboy hat. She had things to do with her life. Places to go.
    And there was that something special she had to find before she could even think about settling down. Something good she knew was out there somewhere, waiting for her. Just on the other side of the mountain.
    So it was no use even opening up that can of worms with Philip O’Donnaugh. Despite their mutual attraction, for both their sakes, their relationship had to stay strictly professional.
    â€œI’ll be right back,” Philip said, depositing her gun and other belongings on a side table. He pointed out the kitchen and powder room, said, “Help yourself to anything,” and disappeared down a hallway, presumably leading to the bedrooms.
    She took the opportunity to freshen up, then wandered over to the bookshelves. Running her hand along the buttery-smooth arm of a giant leather sofa, she tipped her head to check out his book collection. She was surprised by the diversity of titles and topics. There was a bit of everything, from paperback mystery novels to leather-bound classics, to volumes on local history, to expensive texts on forensics and other sciences. Interspersed among them all were small but beautiful works of bronze, ceramics and ancient art.
    She leaned over for a closer look at an extraordinarily beautiful black glazed pottery bowl which she guessed was Native American.
    Suddenly she felt the barest feather-touch of a caress on her bottom. Acting on pure instinct, she spun like lightning, grabbing her attacker’s wrist and toppling him backward onto the sofa. She grabbed his throat and clamped her legs around his thighs to prevent him from moving.
    When she saw who it was, her breath whooshed out.
    â€œ Jeez, Philip.”
    His hand came up, one finger dangling a pair of handcuffs, which he offered to her with a crooked smile.
    She frowned. “What are those for?”
    â€œOh—” he said with a bemused expression. “You mean this isn’t foreplay?”
    She clenched and unclenched her jaw, then took her hand from his throat. “You are so not amusing, O’Donnaugh.”
    His lip curled. “Then what’s all this about?”
    â€œI like a little warning before someone touches my backside.”
    â€œI’ll try to remember that in the future.”
    She was about to correct him about that future thing when she made the mistake of relaxing her thighs. That’s when she realized she was straddling his lap. Again. Her hands were planted on either side of his head and he was looking up at her with a strange expression on his handsome face.
    â€œSorry about tackling you,” she murmured, knowing she should get off him immediately, but for some reason she couldn’t make her legs work.
    â€œNo worries. I’m getting used to being in this position.”
    She swallowed. “Sorry. It’s just…reflex.”
    â€œIn fact,” he said, his voice lowering an octave, “I’m kinda starting to like it.”
    He shifted a fraction under her, and she felt that he was telling the truth.
    Oh, God. Her heart thundered.
    She really did have to move. Now.
    â€œFair warning,” he murmured, and before she knew what was happening, she felt his hands on her bottom, brushing over her with fingers spread.
    She gasped. “Philip!” she said on the exhale, and tried to sit up.
    But he was faster. His strong hands spanned her back. And started pulling her down, toward him, while slowly stroking up and down her sides.
    â€œUm, what are you doing?”
    He didn’t answer. His hands worked themselves higher still, pulling her down even more until her face was mere inches from his.
    â€œThis is not a good idea,” she whispered as he tugged her closer and closer.
    His eyes had darkened, the lids falling