Read Outlaw Justice (Decorah Security Series, Book #13): A Paranormal Romantic Suspense Novella for Free Online Page A

it less likely that anyone would look for us here.”
    “High class. Right.”
    When she started to get out of the car, Steve put a hand on her arm. “Stay here until I set things up. And pull your hat down so nobody can see your face.”
    “Okay.”
    He walked toward the door of the bar and turned back to her. She looked like she’d rather be somewhere else, but this was the better choice. He gave her a reassuring smile before disappearing inside, where he stood taking in the familiar atmosphere. He hadn’t told Leah that most of the upstairs rooms were rented to prostitutes. He could see some of the women sitting at a couple of tables. Most of the establishment’s clientele were working-class men, though.
    A guy he didn’t recognize was behind the bar, which was good. The man wasn’t going to ask why Steve Outlaw was back in town and needing a cheap flop.
    He made his way through wooden tables.
    “I understand you rent rooms,” he said to the bartender.
    “Yeah.”
    “Me and my girl would like one.”
    “We charge by the hour.”
    “I heard. I want to pay for the night.”
    The guy looked him up and down, probably deciding what he was willing to pay. “That will be a hundred bucks. In advance.”
    An outrageous fee, Steve thought, but he quickly agreed and forked over the money.
    The guy ducked in the back and returned with a room key attached to a wooden paddle with the number three stamped into the surface. “Where’s your date?”
    “My gal’s kind of shy. She’s waiting in the car.”
    “Married?”
    He shrugged. “I’ll get her.”
    “Sure.”
    He went out, returned to the car and motioned to Leah. “All set.”
    After he’d retrieved their carry bags from the backseat, he slung his arm around her shoulder. “I told him you were shy.”
    “Under these circumstances, yeah.”
    In the vestibule, there was a set of stairs that they climbed to a dimly lit hallway on the second floor.
    Steve found room three and inserted the key in the lock. Behind the door was a space about eleven by twelve with a fake brass bed, a wooden chair in one corner, a scarred dresser, and a small private bath with a metal shower in the corner.
    Leah sat down on the chair, her arms hugging her shoulders.
    “It could be worse,” Steve said.
    “How?”
    “You might have to go down the hall to the bathroom.”
    “True.” She swallowed hard. “Do . . . prostitutes use these rooms?”
    “Sometimes.”
    She went to the window and he followed, looking out on an alley lined with backyard fences. The bar had a one-story extension at the rear. If they had to make a strategic getaway from the room, they could climb out the window to the lower roof—then to the ground.
    Leah kept her gaze fixed on the view. “I should get out of here.”
    “Because working girls come here?”
    “No. Because I’ve already caused you enough trouble.”
    “I don’t want to hear any more of that.”
    “The cops are looking for you.”
    “Like I said, maybe that’s a ruse.”
    When he’d brought her here, he’d been thinking they had to hide out. Now he was pretty sure it hadn’t been his only consideration.
    His gaze locked with hers, and he could feel electricity crackling in the small room. He’d told himself all the reasons why he shouldn’t make love with her. But when she stood, crossed the worn floorboards, and circled his shoulders with her arms, he surrendered to the heat that had been simmering between them and covered her lips with his.
    Yet he was still struggling for restraint—until she sighed. That small sound was like a jolt of arousal. He went from gentle to hot and hungry in a heartbeat, and she responded as she had the night before.
    When he lifted his mouth a fraction, her heated gaze questioned his.
    “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he forced himself to say.
    “Why?”
    “For all the same reasons as the last time I kissed you.”
    “Let’s forget about reason and logic,” she answered.
    Maybe she was