Rex Martinez is one tough Texas Ranger who has always gotten his man. No woman has ever resisted him either. But the saucy little number he guards now under witness protection makes him nuts. Hard. And eager to put her in her place…which is, of course, in his arms. And his bed.
Crime writer Skye Chamberlain chafes under Rex’s rigid rules. He’s too macho, too yummy to stay cooped up with and remain celibate.
So when she calls his bluff and demands they embrace their relationship now instead of later, he can’t resist her appeal. But his need to keep her hot and happy makes him drop his guard and trouble finds them.
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An Excerpt From: STRONG ARMS OF THE LAW
Copyright © CERISE DELAND, 2011
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Chapter One
Skye Chamberlain crawled out her bedroom window of the tiny house outside Alpine, Texas, before sunrise on a sweltering August morning, biting back a shout that she was finally escaping the strong arms of the law.
Who knew she had it in her?
Crime writer. Bookworm. Former ER nurse. Turned fugitive.
She grinned. Even—she thought as she stretched her dangling toes to reach for the ground—if it meant she’d be in hot water with her captor. I’m going swimming, Ranger Martinez, before you’re up and learn I’m gone.
She felt the cool earth beneath the soles of her feet and stifled a sigh of relief. There was only so long she could stand this blazing August heat. “And the scalding gaze of Rex Martinez,” she murmured to herself as she tucked her boobs back inside her cotton bra, hiked up her flimsy panties and flung her towel over her shoulder.
She headed for the pool behind the barn, picking her way along the pebbles and brush barefoot. She needed to do five laps, maybe more to get relief from the tension of wanting to jump the bones of the tall, dark Texas Ranger who had been her bodyguard for more than two months.
He was an ogre, a tyrant, refusing to let her go anywhere except prowl that teensy-weensy house like a caged animal. But she had to get away, do something physical, if only for a few minutes. She would melt like ice cream if she spent one more day enthralled by his gruff cowboy charm. Denying we’re headed for bed.
Hell. She hurried along. Any exercise would be better than another twenty-four hours cooped up with the Texas lawman who played cards like Godzilla, talked like smart-ass Indiana Jones and took charge like Pancho Villa.
“Your birdie, buddy, has flown the nest.”
* * * * *
“Coffee’s ready,” Rex Martinez spoke to the closed bedroom door of the cabin. “Come on out. I made it like you want it. Weak.”
He smirked. Skye Chamberlain didn’t act like she wanted anything watered down. Not her prospects for survival once she testified against the Gonzaga Familia. Not her hope for a life free of reporters harassing her for interviews about the Texas drug gangs in cahoots with a local mayor. So why she liked her coffee less than rocket-ready stumped him.
“Rise and shine, Chamberlain,” he called when he heard no sounds. Usually she would throw a shoe at the door or grumble at him to leave her be. Early riser, the buxom blonde booty-licious novelist from Chicago, Skye Chamberlain, was not. “We didn’t stay up that late watching that movie.”
Nada.
All right, then. You asked for it.
Rex Martinez thrust open the bedroom door, zeroed in on the rumpled sheets, the empty bed, the curtains fluttering at the wide open window and heard footsteps crunching on gravel.
He cursed.
She was gone? Again?
Shit! He had never met such an infuriating woman!
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