"Police work isn't about what we…" His voice trailed off when he spotted the nasty abrasion on her elbow. "What happened to your arm?"
She glanced down at her elbow. "I must have done it in the scuffle. It's no big deal."
Nick knew better than to touch her. He'd been around the block a few too many times to court the kind of trouble a touch would rouse. He didn't like the way he was reacting to her as it was. He knew if he touched her, if he discovered her skin was as soft and warm and fragrant as he imagined, it would only make dealing with her even more complex.
"You ought to have it looked at," he said stiffly.
"It's just a scratch. I'll take care of it."
She was so close he could smell the clean scent of her hair. The warm, flowery aroma of whatever she'd put in the tub. A droplet of water clung to a dark lock of hair behind her ear. Nick stared at it, wondering what it would be like to catch that droplet with his tongue and get a taste of the tender flesh beneath. He wondered if she would taste as good as she smelled.
He fought another rush of blood to his groin. He denied it. He cursed it. But his body betrayed his intellect, reacting with an intensity that left him incredulous and disturbed. Now wasn't the time. This wasn't the place. And Erin McNeal wasn't the woman.
Some inner warning told him to get out of there. Nick stepped back, breaking the spell he had absolutely no desire to explore. Shaken by his reaction, he turned away and started toward the door.
He felt her stare on his back, but he didn't stop. He knew he was running. But he didn't care. As long as he didn't let this woman get to him, he'd be fine. He'd had his fill of risk takers. A few months in Logan Falls, then she'd go back to Chicago, and Nick would be rid of her. He might like the way she looked; under different circumstances he might have liked to get her in his bed. But Erin McNeal was the last woman he wanted to care about.
He left without looking back.
Chapter 4
The Midwestern sky shimmered Caribbean blue as Erin strapped on her fluorescent orange vest and left her cruiser. Dressed in full uniform and toting her safety flag, she crossed the street to the Logan Falls Elementary School, prepared to drudge through an assignment she had absolutely no desire to complete.
Let Nick Ryan have his petty revenge, she told herself as she unrolled the flag and watched the school zone caution lights blink on. At least he'd changed his mind about firing her. That was something to be thankful for, since she was pretty much starting at ground zero when it came to her career. She'd get her problems ironed out here in Logan Falls. If all went as planned, in a few months she'd be ready to move on to a bigger town. Maybe even Chicago -if Frank would have her back.
A school bus breezed by. Erin mustered a smile and waved, taking her place at the crosswalk. A light breeze rustled the leaves of the maples and elms along Commerce Street. The drone of a lawn mower sounded in the distance. She breathed in the scent of fresh-cut grass and felt a growing sense of contentment as Logan Falls 's version of rush hour commenced. Mothers dressed in housecoats dropped their children curbside. The older kids gathered on the sidewalk where Erin stood, their soft voices and laughter sounding as foreign to her as another language.
After nine years of working some of Chicago 's toughest neighborhoods, Erin had thought crosswalk duty would bore her to tears. Oddly, she found herself enjoying the simplicity of the assignment, watching the children, the fierce hugs of mothers as they bade them goodbye, and experiencing firsthand the wholesome goodness of small-town life.
She had expected to be disappointed by the lack of action, by the absence of the danger that had sustained her for so many years. To her surprise, she found herself feeling protective of the townspeople she'd sworn to serve and protect. She felt as if she'd stepped back in time, to a place that was pure and simple, a place where people obeyed the laws of the land because they believed in doing the right thing.
Within the first hour of her shift, she'd chatted with the principal, Mrs. Helmsley, about the new bleachers she wanted to have built on the north side of the track. Erin had helped a fourth-grade student find her lost notebook. Her self-discipline had caved in when a first grader with missing front teeth asked her if she wanted to buy a grossly overpriced chocolate bar. Erin ended up buying two.
A far cry from Chicago, she mused, remembering too many other children whose worlds had been ravaged by poverty, their minds and bodies polluted by crack or heroin or whatever other poison they'd been unlucky enough to get introduced to. As she stood at the crosswalk, watching the scene unfold like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting, she wondered if Nick realized how lucky he was.
It wasn't the first time she'd thought of her surly boss that morning. The fact of the matter was he'd been on her mind a lot during the last day. She told herself it was because she was annoyed with him. Not only about the way he'd handled the situation at the Brass Rail Saloon, but because he'd assigned her the school crosswalk.
But she couldn't deny there was more to her preoccupation with him than mere annoyance. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she'd found herself reacting to him on a level that had nothing to do with police work-and everything to do with good old-fashioned physical attraction.
Erin wasn't a sexual creature by nature. Having worked in a male-dominated profession her entire adult life, she was accustomed to working with men. She'd had dozens of male friends over the years, had always considered herself immune to hormones and the problems they presented-at least until now.
She tried to analyze her feelings-the quickening of her heart, her wet palms, the sensation of not being able to get enough oxygen into her lungs-and wanted to blame the symptoms on the fact that he went out of his way to make things difficult for her. But Erin was honest enough with herself to acknowledge the truth. He was an attractive man-and her body had taken notice. She didn't want to deal with it. Wouldn't, in fact, since he'd already proved to her he couldn't handle the prospect of a woman in a dangerous profession. Not that she was looking for his approval, or anything else, for that matter.
Regardless of his flaws, she couldn't deny Nick Ryan was something to look at with those coffee-brown eyes, his brooding demeanor and unforgiving mouth. He disturbed her. He infuriated her. He appealed to her more than any man had in too many years to count.
But even more disturbing was the fact that her attraction to him didn't stop with the physical. The flash of emotion in his expression when he'd told her he was a widower, the anguish on his face when confronted with his daughter's pain. Something had shifted inside Erin when she saw that sad little girl transform him from hardened cop to lonely widower struggling to cope with a devastating situation. She knew firsthand the many faces of pain, and Nick Ryan had it etched into every feature. No matter how hard she'd tried to resist, that part of the man touched her deeply. So how was she supposed to deal with that?
"By ignoring it, of course," Erin muttered as she lowered her flag and crossed the street to a group of children. Traffic stopped, and she motioned to the children. "Okay, kids, it's safe to cross! Have fun at school today!"
Just because the chief of police was drop-dead gorgeous and had a human side to boot didn't mean she was going to act on some banal impulse and blow this job. Quite the contrary. Erin could handle her hormones-she always had. The fact that Nick didn't even like her would undoubtedly help. They had completely opposite philosophies on law enforcement. That should keep them on opposing sides long enough for her to get over this… fascination-if she could even call it that.
The group of children crossed the street behind Erin. "Don't forget to look both ways when crossing," she said over the din of young voices.