And she continued to hold fast to his shirt. So Riley circled her wrists with gentle fingers and, with no small effort, pried them loose. Only then did it finally seem to hit Miss Sabrina Jensen exactly what was going on. And it also seemed to hit her just how tenuous the situation was.
“Oh,” she said softly. “Oh, dear. I am so sorry....”
She dropped her gaze to the hands he held in his and awkwardly yanked them free. Then, with quick, jerky movements. she began to smooth out the wrinkles in his shirt that her insistent grip had created. And at once, Riley wished he hadn’t released her hands. Because the only thing more unsettling than having her fingers tangled in his shirt was having her fingers skittering lightly over his chest.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, flattening her palms and pressing harder on his chest in an effort to iron out a few more places. “I have no idea how that happened. The coffee just slipped right out of my hands, and—”
Deftly, he caught her wrists in his hands again, and, startled, she glanced up into his eyes. For one long, lingering moment, he came this close to simply dipping his head to hers and kissing her, a good, solid, why-don’t-we-just-dispense-with-the-formalities kiss, the way his instincts commanded him to. Then, somehow, he came to his senses and set her gently away.
“That’s all right,” he said, the words coming out a bit rougher than he’d intended. “Forget about the coffee. I’m not nearly as...uh...thirsty...as I was a few minutes ago.”
Boy, that had been close. He’d almost told her he wasn’t nearly as cold as he had been a few minutes ago, that being in close quarters with her had just heated him right up, and was she busy this evening, because he really wanted to get to know her and her hands better.
With no small effort, he forced himself to take a step backward in retreat. Then, somehow, he managed to take another. And then another. And another, and another, until he was as far away from Sabrina Jensen as he could be in the tiny confines of the trailer. Unfortunately, what stopped him was the entryway to her bedroom, something he discovered when his shoulder went slamming into the doorjamb, and he turned around to see what had impeded his progress.
“Damn,” he muttered out loud when the sight of the small, intimate-looking bed had him spinning quickly back around. Trailers were just too damned small for a sheriff to be able to properly interrogate a beautiful woman. Now what was he supposed to do?
When he looked at Miss Jensen again, she didn’t offer any answers. Instead, she was staring at him in a way that made his heart pound like a wild animal. Well, shoot. Nothing like being fiercely, irreversibly turned on by a total stranger, he thought. Especially one who was acting mighty suspicious about something and expecting another man’s baby. What the hell was going on? Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. Hastily, Riley reminded himself of all the reasons why he shouldn’t be attracted to Sabrina Jensen.
Number one, she was pregnant. That was a pretty major reason in and of itself to keep his distance. But just to be sure, he heaped on a few more. Number two, in spite of that come-hither look in her eyes right now, she was probably in love with whoever had fathered her baby, another very good reason to avoid her. Number three, she’d been acting awfully funny ever since he entered the trailer—she obviously had something to hide. Number four, she’d lied about at least one thing, so who was to say she wouldn’t lie about everything?
And number five, even without all of the above, Riley had sworn a looong time ago that it was going to take more than a beautiful face and a strong hormonal reaction to lure him into a relationship. When he started seeing a woman seriously again, it would be because she had wit, intelligence, integrity, honor and a strong sense of commitment. Miss Sabrina Jensen, so far, was showing signs of none of those things. And he’d be damned if he’d fall head over heels again just because of all that zinging of his heart strings. Hell, it had been bad enough when he was twenty-two, and Miss Caroline Merilee Dewhurst had—
He stopped himself before the memories of that ill-fated chapter of his life began to tumble into his brain. There was no reason to dwell on that right now, he told himself. Or ever again. Especially when the current chapter of his life was fast becoming a real page-turner.
“Miss Jensen,” he said, trying again to jump-start the conversation, “would you mind coming down to the station with me so I can ask you a few questions?”
Her eyes widened in surprise again. “Am I under arrest?”
“No, ma’am.” he was quick to assure her. “But I think the atmosphere at the station is a little more conducive to conversation than your trailer is.”
“Conversation?” she echoed. “Sounds to me like you have something more along the lines of interrogation in mind.”
He shook his head in firm denial. “No, I’d just like for you to clarify a few things for me is all.”
“Then I’ll clarify them right here.”
Riley sighed. She was digging in. He could see it from a mile away. Miss Sabrina Jensen wasn’t going anywhere with him today. “Fine,” he told her. “Then I’ll just give old Joseph Wentworth a call and let him know you’re safe and sound and living right here in Wallace Canyon at the Westport Trailer Park, lot number thirty-two.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “They don’t call them trailer parks anymore,” she said. “This is a mobile home community.”
He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I think Mr. Wentworth will still be interested to know where you are.”
Without waiting for acknowledgment, Riley moved gingerly over to the settee to retrieve his coat and hat, keeping Miss Sabrina Jensen in his peripheral vision at all times. Hey, you never knew. He had settled his hat on his head and was shrugging into his coat when she took a step toward him. But only one. It was as if she were as fearful as he was that getting too close would create something between them that they couldn’t quite control. Like spontaneous combustion, for instance.
“Sheriff?” she said.
He finished buttoning himself up and looked at her. “Ma’am?”
“I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t notify the Wentworths of my whereabouts.”
That didn’t exactly surprise him. “Why not?”
She lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “It’s a long story.”
“Well, then, why don’t you come down to the station with me right now and tell me all about it? I don’t have to be anywhere anytime soon. In case you didn’t notice, Wallace Canyon is kind of a small town. Things are a bit slow here.”
She nibbled her lower lip, as if she were trying to decide whether or not to come clean. And God help him, Riley decided he really, really liked how she did that. It made him wonder how it would feel to have those even, white teeth nibbling his lower lip, too. Not to mention some of his other body parts.
“I can’t go into it right now,” she told him, interrupting what had promised to be a very nice daydream. “I, um...I have a...a a doctor’s appointment. In...in thirty minutes. And I can’t miss it.”
“You gonna see Dr. Slater in town?” he asked, already knowing the answer. There was, after all, only one doctor in Wallace Canyon, a general practitioner. The next closest one was an hour away and specialized in podiatry.
She nodded. “Uh-huh. Dr. Slater. That’s who I’m seeing, all right. Ol’ Doc Slater.”
He eyed her warily again. “Dr. Slater is only forty-seven. And she really hates being called ‘Doc.’”
Her eyes widened. “Oh. I see. It, uh...it’s my first appointment.”
He