Read Trouble in Disguise: 5 (Eclipse Heat) for Free Online Page A

so that Deacon sprawled on his front. She trailed her fingers up and down his back, rubbing more than scratching.
    He groaned his thanks and practically purred under her attentions. Finally, he pulled her down beside him and arranged her so she was anchored to the bed by his arm.
    “Sleep, sweetheart,” he ordered her, dropping a kiss on her forehead before he took his own advice and snored.
    The way Deacon treats a woman is sure different from the way he treats a man. Miri lay in Deacon’s arms, savoring the sound of his exhaustion as she tried to keep herself awake.
    I’ve known him for over a year—spying on him, deviling him, dogging him—and finally saving his dadblamed butt. Reckon this wasn’t a hasty coupling. Miri patted his rump possessively and grinned as she mentally catalogued what she’d learned, aside from her carnal education, which she’d think about later.
    Napkin goes on chair when finished dining, man pulls out lady’s chair, champagne fizzes, pheasant tastes like chicken. As her body cooled, unexpected aches replaced points of satisfaction and she repressed more than one groan. Carefully, she freed herself from Deacon’s embrace, edging toward the side of the bed. She couldn’t resist one last look at him and reared up on her arm to peer through the half light at his body.
    He was something, all right. She grinned, enjoying the sight of his muscled shoulders and strong thighs. She considered licking a drop of sweat to memorize his flavor, though she’d already sampled his taste earlier.
    He shifted from his front to his back and as she watched, the weight of sleep settled over him and his snores deepened. She grinned wickedly, wishing she could tease him about the sounds he made when he slept.
    Miri closed her eyes, distinguishing his male scent from the heady perfume left from their intimacy. One last time, she inhaled deeply, holding the essence of Deacon McCallister in her lungs before she sighed, released her breath and reluctantly focused.
    Game over. Her pursuit of a criminal had certainly taken her to an unexpected location this time. Hell’s Half Acre wasn’t a town she’d usually favor, but it had led her into Deacon McCallister’s arms—a place she’d only dreamed about.
    She smacked herself mentally. Get up! If she didn’t retrieve her prisoner soon, she was going to have a lot of explaining to do when he turned up dead under the back porch. Panic filled her and she mentally batted it away.
    A lamp across the room glowed, softly outlining the way of escape. The key to the room lay on the same dresser where Miri had hastily stuffed Calvin’s suit. Sanity urged her to get up and get out.
    As if sensing that she intended to leave, Deacon shifted, pulling her into his embrace and eliminating the inches she’d gained as she’d crept toward the edge of the mattress. Lord, he was warm. His chest radiated heat against her back. She resisted temptation, staying awake by recounting the steps she’d taken to get herself in this position. As of yesterday morning, she’d been on the job more than a week and as expected, she’d had no trouble with the men coming and going.
    Her boss, though, had been another matter. Lydia had a penchant for finding excuses to touch her butler. Had it not been so important to keep the job, Miri would have quit, but as it was, she’d tied flat her bosom, making certain there wasn’t a thing for Lydia to feel but the very real muscles in Miri’s arms when she was running her hands up and down the suit jacket.
    Since she’d been hired as Calvin, she’d avoided Lydia’s endless tweaks, pats and outright groping by staying out of her sight. The owner of the Pleasure Dome was a busy woman and it didn’t take more than one session with Lydia for Miri to memorize the madam’s schedule and hope Jackson appeared before Miri gave up and quit being Calvin the butler.
    Two nights before, her whole bounty hunting scheme had flirted with disaster. Adam