Arizona Territory, 1882
Maggie Bullock's father needed expensive medical care and if that meant stealing from their friendly swindling banker, so be it. Once her father was on the path to recovery she would face the consequences. The whole thing was surprisingly easy until she's kidnapped by bounty hunter Dean Collier.
Collier is tired of tracking down worthless scum. He's afraid he'll lose his last scrap of humanity and become a stone-cold killer, just like the men he brings to justice. He jumps at the chance to become sheriff of Fresh Springs, Arizona. The one condition—capture Maggie.
He figured it'd be easy. Until beautiful, loyal Maggie breaks through defenses he'd thought cemented. His feelings for her run the range from fury to confusion to love, but if he doesn't bring her in someone else will. Can there be a future between a sheriff and a fugitive?
Actually, I had a bit of a funny moment with that regarding CATCH ME. My original meeting between the hero and heroine had her stopping and bathing after a long time on the trail. The hero watched from the woods while developing a particular sort of interest in her figure. My fabulous editor pointed out this was a bit of a cliché. Accepting that, I changed it to have her sneaking up on him.
Like a conjured ghost, she was there when he lowered his hands. She held the canteen out and the cuffs gleamed in a sliver of moonlight. He hadn’t seen her mouth held that flat since he’d first abducted her from her hotel room.
He took the water and his fingers brushed hers, sending a fluttery shock up his arm. It rocked him all the way down to his toes, tightening his body and making his dick perk up in eager attention.
Her gaze ranged over his arousal and she cocked a hip. “Got yourself fully under control, do you? Looks like at least part of you thinks running away with me might be a good idea.” And then she smirked. Downright, goddamned smirked, lips curving in a sultry smile.
His vision washed gray at the edges. After all this time, she still didn’t understand. The control he had to exercise, the rigid lockdown he had at all times.
By god, he’d show it to her, exactly how dangerous he could get. And then she’d please, Christ, just shut up already.
His hands flashed out and sank deep in her hair, yanking her head back and pointing her lush, tempting mouth up. He had only a second to see how wide her eyes went before he swept in and kissed her.
Except this meeting of lips and teeth wasn’t about giving anything. It wasn’t a prelude to more. It wasn’t a promise.
It was an exorcism.
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