Breathless Temptation [Texas Stallions 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (3 page)

Shaking the strange feelings from her mind, she glanced down at the white hospital sheet covering her legs, and silently prayed she didn’t look like hell.

“Ms. Devero?” his deep, soothing voice called out to her.

“Yes, I’m Delilah Devero.”

His eyes filled with relief when she told him her name, and a warm, inviting smile pulled at his lips. “My name is Sheriff Clay Garrett. I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”

She let out a throaty chuckle. “I don’t know if you could say I’m doing well considering I’ve just had a car accident.”

He nodded. “You’re alive. I’d say that’s doing pretty well. When the paramedics took you from me you weren’t breathing at all. I wasn’t sure how I would find you today.” His smile widened. “I’m glad to see that it’s alive and awake.”

She smiled shyly. “So you’re the one who found me?”

“Hunter Boyd, the rancher whose fence you destroyed, found you. I was just the one who performed CPR on you until the paramedics showed up.”

She folded her hands in her lap. “Well, I guess I owe Mr. Boyd an apology. I have every intention of paying to have the fence replaced, and I guess I also owe you a very big thank you.”

Arching a brow, he told her in an authoritative voice, “You can thank me by not driving so fast on dark country roads or driving too fast period.”

She felt like saluting him. “Right,” she said, glancing down at her hands, thinking back on her previous thoughts and concerns. “I might have been speeding just a little, but the crashing part had more to do with my brakes not working.”

He stepped closer, standing just to the side of her bed. His eyes scanned over her with heavy concentration. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk with you about. When I looked up the information on your car, I noticed you just bought it a few months ago. Did you notice any problems with the braking system then?”

I knew it. There was something wrong with my brakes. Why else would he be asking me this?
“No, my car’s been perfect. When I started my road trip, I did notice that the brakes felt soft, but I was in too much of a hurry to worry about it.” She twisted her hands together, feeling the pull of her anger and apprehension flood through her.

Had her brakes been faulty, or had someone tampered with them? Was that why he was staring at her as if she were on trial?

Sheriff Garrett pulled out a notepad and pen. “Has anyone worked on your car recently?”

She shook her head. “No. Why are you asking me this? What’s going on?”

He closed his notepad and locked gazes with her. The deep brown within his eyes seemed to grow even darker as he studied her. “Besides your speeding,” he noted with a tense frown, “your brake line was sliced. Your brakes would have been useless by the time you truly needed them, which I’m assuming is why you crashed into the Boyds’ fence.”

She knew it. She hated that she even had to worry about such things, but she had known in the back of her mind that Warren had messed with her car. Fury soared from within the depths of her mind as well as so many other emotions. She could’ve been killed. Shaking with fury, she had to get away from them, or she was going to find herself dead and them inheriting more than her father’s money. They would get hers, too. She envisioned Sharon and Warren laughing hysterically at her funeral with a checklist in hand.
Kill Delilah. Check. Collect inheritance. Check. Kill Marshall…

“Is something wrong, Ms. Devero?” Sheriff Garrett asked.

No, just my overactive imagination.
Collecting her thoughts, she quickly plastered a fake smile on her face and prepared to lie. “I’m fine, Sheriff.”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Clearing her throat, she attested, “No, I’m fine.”

“Then you won’t mind if I ask you another question?”

She shrugged her shoulders and did her best to seem unaffected by her racing and unsettling heart rate. “What’s that?”

“Are you running away from someone, Ms. Devero? Is there someone who wants to hurt you?”

Her eyes rounded. She was stunned and mortified that he would ask such a direct question. Was it that obvious? She froze, unable to speak. Dumbfounded, all she could do was stare at the attractive, broad-shouldered giant hovering beside her.

* * * *

Clay could feel deep into the marrow of his bones that she was keeping the truth from him. After years as a policeman, he knew the signs. She was wringing her hands together nervously each time he mentioned her brakes and then again when he asked her if someone wanted to hurt her. Her face paled as if all the blood had drained from her body. Something was going on, and he was too stubborn to let things go without getting to the bottom of it.

“Is there someone who might want to hurt you, Ms. Devero?” he repeated.

“No. Not that I’m aware of.”

Clay scanned over her with a heightened level of scrutiny. He held her gaze for as long as she held his, but the moment she looked away, he said, “Are you protecting someone, Ms. Devero? From what I gather, you’re a terrible liar. So please be honest with me.”

She gasped, and her eyes widened. He knew he was pushing her a little, but he had to dig the truth out of her one way or the other. She didn’t seem to feel comfortable just blurting out the truth on her own, so he figured he’d offer some encouragement.

Clay pulled the guest chair over and plopped himself down into it so she didn’t have to look up at him. He was taller than most. At six foot four, he knew his size was a little intimidating, and he figured staring up at him was making her nervous.

Dropping down to meet her at eye level might help her feel a little more at ease, as well as make it known he wasn’t leaving anytime soon. “I’m sorry if that offends you, Ms. Devero, but I can read people pretty well, and you keep saying one thing, but your body language is telling me something else entirely. Please, if you think someone might have done this deliberately to your car—”

“Warren Michaels,” she muttered. The moment she said his name, the look of defeat flooded her expression. Her eyes glistened, but he couldn’t tell if that was from worry, sadness, or maybe a little of both.

“Who’s Warren Michaels?”

She blew out a long breath and ran her hands through her hair before settling back into the conversation. “Unfortunately, he’s my stepbrother and a diabolical pain in my ass.”

A soft smile tugged at his lips, but he kept it hidden from her as best he could. He was glad she seemed to possess a sense of humor. “Why do you think he’d want to hurt you?”

She laughed. “This is the oldest story in the book, Sheriff. He wants what all greedy sons of bitches want…money.” She sighed. “My father is a very wealthy businessman, and he got the bulk of his money in oil right here in Texas. I spent a good deal of my life learning my father’s business and worked with him for many years. Until recently, I was being groomed to be his right hand.”

Hunter was right about her family.
“Why until recently?”

“I got tired of my father’s wife and her son, Sharon and Warren Michaels, pressuring and stalking me. Warren actually tried to date me. How strange is that, a stepbrother making the moves on his stepsister?” She paused as if remembering something painful but then continued again. “Warren has done some questionable things as far as I’m concerned.”

“Like what?”

She inclined her head to look at him. The soft sweep of her wavy blonde hair teased over her shoulder, and her soft blue eyes paled. “The first thing you should know, Sheriff, is that I still live with my father. Actually, we all do. My father’s home is quite large, over forty thousand square feet of living space, and that’s not counting the pool house, cabana lofts, and guest quarters.
My father and I have always been close, and he begged me to stay, so I did.” She stared at him as if waiting for a reaction. He didn’t offer any. “On more than one occasion, Warren locked me in any given room in our house and forced himself on me. He never raped me, but he sure tried to. I don’t know how he does it, but he knows when I shower or when I’m in the bathhouse out by the swimming pool. He finds a way to…”

“What Delilah? What did he do?”

Glancing out the window of her room, the morning sun beaming brightly through the glass, she said, “Last week, I was changing in the bathhouse. I like to swim in the early mornings before everyone gets up. It helps me clear my head. I went inside to change, and Warren was there, but I didn’t see him at first. It wasn’t until I had undressed that he showed himself. He was naked. He’d stolen my towels and hidden my clothing. When I tried to get away from him, he pinned me down onto the cot. He…I got away.”

Clay’s heart jumped into his throat. Hearing a woman describe a physical assault always had his hands balling into tight fists. He’d seen brutalized woman before, and he hated that Delilah was one of them. She might not bare the physical marks, but the emotional ones were still there. He wanted so badly to comfort her. “Did you report the attack?”

She swallowed hard and shook her head.

“Why?” He couldn’t help but sound surprised and a bit frustrated that she hadn’t. He had never met Warren and already wanted to beat the shit out of him for forcing himself onto a woman. Only a weak man would do such a vile thing.

“My father doesn’t need to hear about these things happening under his roof. I knew that Warren was just trying to scare me. He was trying to use force to get me to bend to his will.” She glanced back over at him, and her eyes were slightly red and puffy. With anger in her voice, she said, “I’m not some victim, and I don’t need a babysitter.”

“No, I would certainly not call you a victim, but I do think you should’ve reported the incident. Has it happened before?”

She licked her lips, and immediately he rose from his chair, walked to her side table, and poured her a glass of water. He could only imagine how uncomfortable it was for her to reveal so many private things about herself to a complete stranger.

“That was the bravest he’d ever gotten with me. The other times, he just tried to kiss me and scare me with intimidations.”

Brow arched, he asked, “Intimidations?”

“He said he’d hurt me, find ways to make me pay for not doing what a good girl should.” She chuckled softly. “Now that I’ve said it out loud, it just sounds silly coming from a twenty-five-year-old.”

Clay was deadly serious as he told her, “There’s nothing silly about a man assaulting a woman.” He felt his blood pressure rise. The heat around his collar grew more intense as he watched the waves of emotions pouring out of her. He hated that she’d been so helpless. He despised that he could do nothing more than open up an investigation and report the incidents involving Warren Michaels.

Sheriff responsibilities aside, what he’d like to do is find the rat bastard and beat the hell out of him. He’d enjoy nothing more than tormenting Warren the way he seemed to derive pleasure from hurting and abusing Delilah.
The sick fuck.

“Ms. Devero, I have no choice but to report this. It might not lead to an arrest, but something like this cannot go undocumented. The damage done to your brake line is clearly a criminal act.” He wanted to touch her hand and comfort her. He couldn’t ignore the need flaring up inside him to protect her. “You could’ve been killed. I’m going to open up an investigation and pursue...”

She shrugged and waved her hand as if to dismiss his comments. “I know, Sheriff. I just don’t see what good it will do.” She frowned. “Besides, if any of this went to court, it would damage my father’s business, and I don’t want to be responsible for that. She met his gaze. “You should know that the other reason I never filed any complaints against Warren was he always seemed to be able to cover his tracks, had an alibi for everything. He was even able to convince others that I actually wanted him. He’s a master of manipulation.” She sniffled, wiping away the dampness on her cheeks. “My reputation would be at stake if I pressed charges against him, and in turn that would damage my father’s. I can’t allow that to happen.” She sighed. “My only option was to leave, and I’d finally reached my limit with being followed when I went out with friends, and he just showed up as if invited.” Her voice became more determined as she said, “I’m sick of his mother pretending to care about me in the presence of my father only to turn into a frigid wench the moment his back’s turned. This is why I’m here now. I had to get away.” Her voice dropped to a low whisper. “I didn’t want to be the reason my father left Sharon. I want him to see for himself what a horrible person he married.”

Clay set aside his notepad and pen and removed his Stetson. He ran a quick hand through his hair to loosen up the matted strands. He’d never understand women and their confusing emotions and irrational behaviors.

“I’ll do what I need to do on my end, Delilah.” He knew he sounded stern, but she had to know he wasn’t about to let things go without truly investigating the situation.

She rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath. “Do what you need to do, Sheriff. I’m sure you’ll soon discover that it’s all a big waste of time.”

He sensed her defeat. As he studied her for a long moment, an overwhelming tenderness bloomed inside him for her. Sure he wanted to protect her. That instinct came with being an officer, but the other sentiments that thumped around inside his head and chest left him feeling a little anxious and restless. Then he did something he probably never should’ve done. He asked her out.