Tough to Tame by Diana Palmer Page B

was just a night of gaming. Nothing suspect about that.
     
    She told Kell the minute she got home.
    He laughed. “Don’t look so guilty,” he chided. “I like your boss. Besides, it’s neat to see the game I might get for Christmas.” He smiled angelically.
    “You might get it,” she said, “and you might not.”
    “You might get a new raincoat,” he mused.
    She grinned. “Wow.”
    He looked at her fondly. “It’s hard, living like this, I know. We were better off in San Antonio. But I didn’t want us to be around when Frank got out of jail.” His face hardened.
    Her heart jumped. She hadn’t thought about Frank for several days in a row. But now the trial and his furycame back, full force. “It was almost six months ago that he was arrested, and three months until the trial. He got credit for time served. We’ve been here just about three months.” She bit her lower lip. “Oh, dear. They’ll let him out pretty soon.”
    His pale eyes were cold. “It should have been a tougher sentence. But despite his past, it was the first time he was ever charged with battery, and they couldn’t get more jail time for him on a first offense. The public defender in his case was pretty talented, as well.”
    She drew in a long breath. “I’m glad we’re out of the city.”
    “So am I. He lived barely a block from us. We’re not as easy to get to, here.”
    She stared at him closely. “You believe the threats he made,” she murmured. “Don’t you?”
    “He’s the sort of man who gets even,” he told her. “I’m not the man I was, or we’d never have left town on the chance he might come after you. But here, I have friends. If he comes down here looking for trouble, he’ll find some.”
    She felt a little better. “I didn’t want to have him arrested again.”
    “It wouldn’t have mattered,” he told her. “The fact that you stood up to him was enough. He was used to women being afraid of him. His own sister sat in the back of the courtroom during the trial. She was afraid to get near him, because she hadn’t lied for him when the police came.”
    “What makes a man like that?” she asked sadly.“What makes him so hard that he has to beat up a woman to make him feel strong?”
    “I don’t know, sis,” Kell told her gently. “Honestly I don’t think the man has feelings for anybody or anything. His sister told you that he threw her dog off a bridge when they were kids. He laughed about it.”
    Her face grew sad. “I thought he was such a gentleman. He was so sweet to me, bringing me flowers and candy at work, writing me love letters. Then he came over to our house and the first thing he did was kick my cat when it spit at him.”
    “The cat was a good judge of character,” Kell remarked.
    “When I protested, he said that animals didn’t feel pain and I shouldn’t get so worked up over a stupid cat. I should have realized then what sort of person he was.”
    “People in love are neither sane nor responsible,” Kell replied flatly. “You were so crazy about him that I think you could have forgiven murder.”
    She nodded sadly. “I learned the hard way that looks and acts are no measure of a man. I should have run for my life the first time he phoned me at work just to talk.”
    “You didn’t know. How could you? He was a stranger.”
    “You knew,” she said.
    He nodded. “I’ve known men like him in the service,” he said. “They’re good in combat, because they aren’t bothered by the carnage. But that trait serves them poorly in civilian life.”
    She cocked her head at him. “Kilraven said that Eb Scott lets law enforcement use his gun range for free. Don’t you know him, too?”
    “Yes.”
    “And Micah Steele.”
    “Yes.”
    She hesitated. “They’re all retired mercenaries, Kell.”
    “So they are.”
    “Were they involved with the military?” she persisted.
    “The military uses contract personnel,” he said evasively. “People with necessary skills for