to get one wild she-cat under control.
Chase detected her scent in the underwear drawer and the closet.
Then he heard something in the kitchen. His heart pounding pell mell, he couldn’t believe she could still be here. Raiding the refrigerator! And he was damn glad.
He raced down the hall and heard the fridge door shut with a thunk. He reached the kitchen just as the startled dark-haired beauty nearly dropped the glass of milk in her hand.
He saw it coming before she even tossed the glass at him. His instinct would have been to try to grab it, but he couldn’t lose her, and he dove for her instead.
His body hit the glass of milk first, the beverage splashing against his shirt as he took her down, and hoped the hell he didn’t knock her out.
She fell with an oof and then tried a maneuver to unsettle him, shoving her feet against the floor, bucking, which damn near did throw him off, but he pressed hard against her body, grabbing her wrists, anchoring them above her head.
“Hold… still,” he said, irked to the max. “I don’t know what kind of trouble you’re in, miss, but we’ll work it out. As long as you’re not wanted for murder…” He saw the subtle change in her wild-eyed look to one of concern, and he feared the worse.
One of their kind couldn’t go to prison. She had to have a death sentence on her head if she was wanted for murder.
“I… didn’t… kill… anyone,” she gritted out, her expression furious. “And I haven’t done anything wrong. Get off me!”
“You’re kidding, right? You’ve injured a sheriff, broken in and entered a house, stole a car—mine—stole Hal Haverton’s clothes, broken a glass, and littered.”
Her grim mouth turned up just a hair at the mention of littering, and damn if he didn’t want to kiss her. When she was total trouble. And his prisoner at the moment.
“You’re right,” she said softly.
“That you’ve killed someone?” he asked, coming to his senses.
“No,” she growled, her golden eyes narrowed in irritation. “That I’ve… I’ve done all those other things. But you can’t hold me.”
He raised a brow. Like hell he couldn’t. “If you don’t recall me telling you so, I am a deputy sheriff of Yuma Town. And even if I wasn’t, I would be perfectly within my rights making a citizen’s arrest.”
“I don’t mean that,” she said, sounding exasperated. “You can’t incarcerate me. Not when I’m a shifter.”
He smiled then. “Sorry, lady. Around here, being that it’s a shifter-run town, we have accommodations for our kind, no questions asked.”
She was still breathing hard, maybe some of it to do with his body pressing against hers, but he couldn’t chance letting her go.
She licked her dry lips and if that wasn’t a total turn on. “I take it that having some of your homemade Irish stew is out now,” she said.
He smiled a little. “Maybe I can bring you a bowl to the jailhouse.” Hating to do it, wanting to know the truth of what was going on with her, he took hold of her wrists with one hand and reached for his pocket and a pair of handcuffs with his other.
Her eyes widened a bit and she again attempted to unseat him. That had him flipping her over onto her stomach and yanking her one arm behind her back, forcing her to quit fighting him.
“Ow,” she said, and he heard the pain in her voice.
He was fairly certain she was being honest with him, but he wasn’t giving her a chance to best him again. He cuffed one wrist and then the other.
“You’re safer with us, no matter what you’ve done. Just let me know what your name is and what we’re up against.” He turned her over so she could talk. She was wearing Hal’s gray sweats that swallowed her up, no shoes on her feet. The floor was covered in glass and milk and both of them had the shimmer of glass and wet spots on their clothes.
“Come on,” he said, carefully lifting her off the floor so she wouldn’t have to walk through the glass. If
Chase detected her scent in the underwear drawer and the closet.
Then he heard something in the kitchen. His heart pounding pell mell, he couldn’t believe she could still be here. Raiding the refrigerator! And he was damn glad.
He raced down the hall and heard the fridge door shut with a thunk. He reached the kitchen just as the startled dark-haired beauty nearly dropped the glass of milk in her hand.
He saw it coming before she even tossed the glass at him. His instinct would have been to try to grab it, but he couldn’t lose her, and he dove for her instead.
His body hit the glass of milk first, the beverage splashing against his shirt as he took her down, and hoped the hell he didn’t knock her out.
She fell with an oof and then tried a maneuver to unsettle him, shoving her feet against the floor, bucking, which damn near did throw him off, but he pressed hard against her body, grabbing her wrists, anchoring them above her head.
“Hold… still,” he said, irked to the max. “I don’t know what kind of trouble you’re in, miss, but we’ll work it out. As long as you’re not wanted for murder…” He saw the subtle change in her wild-eyed look to one of concern, and he feared the worse.
One of their kind couldn’t go to prison. She had to have a death sentence on her head if she was wanted for murder.
“I… didn’t… kill… anyone,” she gritted out, her expression furious. “And I haven’t done anything wrong. Get off me!”
“You’re kidding, right? You’ve injured a sheriff, broken in and entered a house, stole a car—mine—stole Hal Haverton’s clothes, broken a glass, and littered.”
Her grim mouth turned up just a hair at the mention of littering, and damn if he didn’t want to kiss her. When she was total trouble. And his prisoner at the moment.
“You’re right,” she said softly.
“That you’ve killed someone?” he asked, coming to his senses.
“No,” she growled, her golden eyes narrowed in irritation. “That I’ve… I’ve done all those other things. But you can’t hold me.”
He raised a brow. Like hell he couldn’t. “If you don’t recall me telling you so, I am a deputy sheriff of Yuma Town. And even if I wasn’t, I would be perfectly within my rights making a citizen’s arrest.”
“I don’t mean that,” she said, sounding exasperated. “You can’t incarcerate me. Not when I’m a shifter.”
He smiled then. “Sorry, lady. Around here, being that it’s a shifter-run town, we have accommodations for our kind, no questions asked.”
She was still breathing hard, maybe some of it to do with his body pressing against hers, but he couldn’t chance letting her go.
She licked her dry lips and if that wasn’t a total turn on. “I take it that having some of your homemade Irish stew is out now,” she said.
He smiled a little. “Maybe I can bring you a bowl to the jailhouse.” Hating to do it, wanting to know the truth of what was going on with her, he took hold of her wrists with one hand and reached for his pocket and a pair of handcuffs with his other.
Her eyes widened a bit and she again attempted to unseat him. That had him flipping her over onto her stomach and yanking her one arm behind her back, forcing her to quit fighting him.
“Ow,” she said, and he heard the pain in her voice.
He was fairly certain she was being honest with him, but he wasn’t giving her a chance to best him again. He cuffed one wrist and then the other.
“You’re safer with us, no matter what you’ve done. Just let me know what your name is and what we’re up against.” He turned her over so she could talk. She was wearing Hal’s gray sweats that swallowed her up, no shoes on her feet. The floor was covered in glass and milk and both of them had the shimmer of glass and wet spots on their clothes.
“Come on,” he said, carefully lifting her off the floor so she wouldn’t have to walk through the glass. If
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