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Ms. Appleton, is you’ve got a history of being high-strung. Your mother, God rest her soul, did her best to protect you back then. But you’ve got an established pattern of erratic behavior. Heck, I almost didn’t rush over this morning on account of that. A good lawyer, if he did a little digging…” He lowered his voice. “Now you don’t want that.”
    The word “digging” stopped Shay’s next argument even as it was forming. Heart hammering in rage, she looked away.
    “All done?” James stepped out beyond the wall that had shielded him, no coffee cup in sight. As much as he craved that cup of coffee, he’d opted for information about Shay Appleton instead.
    The pair broke apart like conspirators caught in the act. Shay turned an ugly glare on him, as if she had guessed he was spying on her.
    The deputy stepped up, as if to once again shield Shay. “All done. Ms. Appleton isn’t pressing charges.”
    Half in shadow behind the officer, Shay didn’t respond, yet James could feel the hostility radiating off her.
    He wanted to ask a dozen questions about what he’d just overheard. Then common sense nudged him, hard. Do y ou have time to dick around, waiting for answers that probably won’t come and wouldn’t mean anything to you if they did? No, he did not. Time to go home.
    “If we’re done here, I’d like to get on with the formalities, Deputy, so I can head back to Charlotte.”
    Shay moved to stand between him and the door and folded her arms, defiance in her cocked hip. “Are you really going to take my dog?”
    James had dealt with a lot of suspects, furious that they had just been arrested. Some were riddled with disbelief they had been caught. Others were so whacked-out on drugs they thought they were Batman, Iron Man, and the Hulk all rolled into one. Yet the singular anger in her golden eyes seemed to scorch him right down to his short hairs. It was a real and very personal thing. Nothing like the irrational anger of a strung-out, maddened, or intoxicated suspect. Her gaze was clear and focused and aimed at him.
    It hit him like a punch in the gut. What had happened to make such a pretty woman capable of so much hostility?
    For an instant he thought she might attack if he moved even a toe toward the door. It was a raw moment. He wasn’t afraid. He just didn’t know how to defuse the situation.
    The impact of her defiance changed shape in that moment. Suddenly his discomfort wasn’t about besting the woman before him. It was a purely sexual response.
    He noticed how her thick fall of shiny bangs framed the most expressive pair of eyes he’d ever looked into. He saw her full lower lip tremble and wondered if she knew what that kind of thing did to a man’s libido. Her old-fashioned, fresh-scrubbed prettiness might not be popular in a world that demanded long, lean, and edgy. Yet he was intrigued. He wondered what she was like when she didn’t feel under siege.
    He saw her eyes flare slightly in awareness of the attraction that must be showing through his stare. Her pupils went supernova, the black eating up the gold until he felt as if he were staring into her soul. It was a hungry, lonely soul, one that overwhelmed his senses.
    James stomped on his emotions as he looked away first.
    He felt sorry for her, he did. But whatever was wrong was Deputy Ward’s problem. He’d done what he came to do, recover his partner. He wasn’t going to let a pair of golden-brown eyes make him feel guilty and horny and— Shit!
    He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and withdrew all thirty-four dollars. He held it out to her. “For your trouble.”
    Her gaze shifted from his hand to his face. He saw her mouth go tight, pinching off its lush natural fullness until all that was left was a white rim of mute rage.
    He put the money away, so unnerved that his hand shook a little.
    “Bogart. Hier! ” The sound of James’s command voice snapped his partner to attention and he trotted over to his