Stripped Naked (Naked Cowboys) (3 page)

“Fine.” He ground out the word between clenched teeth.

“Fine.” She could be as abrupt as he was. “I’m so glad we understand each other.”

For a long moment he said nothing, just studied her as if she were an alien who had suddenly appeared from outer space. Then he glanced at the three-ring circus taking place along the roadside with the same frown of annoyance.

“Don’t people have anything else to do around here?”

She took in the scene again and couldn’t hold back the laugh. “They’re just curious. You’ll have to get used to it if you plan on staying around. This is the biggest thing to happen around here in the last century.”

“They can be all the curious they want,” he told her, “as long as they don’t get in my way and mess things up.”

She tilted her head, giving him a quizzical look. “Is that meant for me too? I assure you, I know enough to stay out of the way.” She lifted her iPad. “I’ll get the background details down. Then, when you get a second, I’d just like enough from you to put a story together. Oh, and my photographer wants to snap a couple of shots.”

Dillon Cross glanced at the scene behind him again. “You don’t think the good folks in Rowan County might be a little shocked to see a naked corpse on the front page of the paper?” His voice had a definite edge to it.

Her eyes widened. “So he really is naked?”

He nodded. “Not a stitch on him.”

“Do you know who he is? Has anyone identified him?”

“No and no. There was some damage to his hands too.”

“No kidding. In what way?”

“I’m not prepared to discuss any details yet. The crime scene is still fresh.”

“But—”

He blew out a breath. “Listen, Miss Malone—”

“Jinx,” she interrupted. “Call me Jinx.”

He nodded. “And you can call me Sheriff.” He was poker-faced and Jinx saw no humor in those dark coffee-colored eyes.

“All right,
Sheriff
. Speak your piece.”

And do it quick so I can get away with my dignity intact.

“I’m not trying to be a hard case here,” he told her, “but take a look.” He waved his hand at the activity behind him. “I need to keep the area as contained as possible, but you can see what’s happening. This is a crime scene, not a social gathering.”

Jinx bit down on her tongue to keep the nasty comebacks in check. She was used to the confrontational situation with cops in New York, where they seemed to regard the media as the enemy. Not to mention the holdover resentment from the past century against female crime reporters. Disliking law enforcement had become second nature to her. She’d had to toughen up to get stories and interviews. But this wasn’t New York, and she didn’t want to create antagonism her first day as publisher.

She took a deep breath, let it out slowly and pasted a smile on her face.

“Okay, Lew and I will get out of your way if you’ll give him a chance to get his shots before you take the body away. And then you take a few minutes to give me the bare-bones outline. I’m holding the print run so I can get this story in.”

He nodded. Once. “Fair enough. As long as I have the space to do my job. But I’m warning you, the scene is far from a pleasant one.”

“I’ve seen gruesome before,” she told him. “More than you can imagine. And whatever goes on, we won’t chew you up like the big-city papers do, Sheriff. It doesn’t hurt to have us on your side. Especially when election time rolls around.”

“Duly noted.”

She backed up, suddenly needing to put space between the two of them. What was up with her hormones today, anyway? Not even Max had aroused her just by his presence the way Sheriff Dillon Cross did. When she found herself mentally undressing him, she knew she had to move away from him. Maintaining professional composure was a must, especially in a first impression. Lusting after the sheriff was hardly in the reporter’s and publisher’s handbook.

As she turned to go back to her car, her heel caught in a crack in the pavement and she fell forward. Dillon Cross steadied her with a warm hand on her elbow.

“Wearing those heels around here might not be such a good idea,” he told her. “You could fall and hurt yourself. I’d think you’d have at least one pair of boots in your closet.”

“Crap.” His touch carried heat with it that burrowed its way beneath her skin and she yanked her arm away. “Does everyone have an opinion about my footwear?” She’d had it in her head to present herself very professionally her first day on the job. She’d just forgotten that professional meant different things in New York and Rowan County. Everyone was right. She’d break her damn fool neck if she didn’t get rid of the stilts. She just didn’t want Dillon Cross pointing it out to her.

He took a step back, palms out. “Sorry. Just trying to give some helpful advice.”

“I think I’ve had about all of that I can take for today.” Then she forced a smile. “But thanks anyway.”

He studied her for a long moment, his eyes slowly taking in her body from head to toe. Her pulse throbbed in inconvenient places and there went that intense flash of heat surging through her again.

Bad, bad, bad. Get your mind off men. Remember Max. Remember your promise to yourself.

“Wait at your car for me like you suggested. I can give you ten minutes when we’re finished here.” He waved at the mob scene again. “In the meantime, if any of these people are your friends, maybe you can convince them to go home and stay out of my crime scene.”

She swallowed the sarcasm that bubbled up. Lord, this guy pushed her buttons. “I would,
Sheriff,
but this is your crime scene, not a social gathering.”

Jinx turned away from him, careful not to trip in her heels again, as he mumbled something under his breath. She glanced over her shoulder.

“Did you say something?” She put on her sweetest voice.

“I said thanks for all your help.”

“Same to you.” She marched back to her car, satisfied that she got in the last word. This time.

Lew was still at the car, waiting for instructions from her.

“He’s still watching you.” He inclined his head in the direction of the scene. “The sheriff, I mean.”

Jinx yanked open the car door and sat down, half-angry, half-aroused.

“Let him watch, as long as I get my interview.”

And that’s all she wanted from him. Dillon Cross was the epitome of the alpha male, a species she’d sworn to stay away from. She supposed she should be grateful that her emotions and sensual awareness were still active after the battering her ego had taken from Max’s actions. Except she had absolutely no plan to act on any of it. She’d had enough of sexy alpha males. Maybe there was an instant cure she could take before he finished and came over to talk to her.

Dillon watched Jinx Malone trip back to her car on those ridiculous heels. Just what he needed. Another fucking reporter in his life. Why did he think things would be different out here in cow country? Because he was stupid and wanted out of San Antonio so badly he didn’t stop to think. And what was with her, anyway? Did the woman still think she was back in New York? She’d grown up around here, for God’s sake. Where was her common sense?

Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t her common sense that was at the forefront of his mind. Or the naked body behind him either. Unfortunately. No, it was that trim figure in the cotton skirt and blouse, with a hip sway that made his cock try to fight its way out of his fly. Lustrous auburn hair bounced at her shoulders as she moved, hair that was a great complement to the sea-green eyes she’d stared at him with. Eyes that alternately spit irritation and heat. The irritation he could handle. The heat was definitely a problem.

He wanted to bite or kick something. His reaction to her was so instantaneous it almost knocked him on his ass. The heaviness of a sudden erection pushed against his fly.

Great. Just great.

It would be goddamn embarrassing for him at his first major crime scene here
if people spotted his inconvenient hard-on.

He tried to tell himself the whole instant-attraction thing was just an accident of human chemistry, but the heat and desire pooling in his groin told a different story. He’d just been without for too long. His choice, but it didn’t help the situation.

Haven’t you learned anything?

He reminded himself women like Jinx Malone were poison. Been there, done that, had the scars and taken the cure. He hoped. But watching the sway of her shapely ass as she walked away from him on those ridiculous high heels he felt lust boiling through him. He needed to stick to his vow of nothing but one-night stands, with women who understood the rules from the beginning. And a one-night stand with the publisher of the county newspaper sure wouldn’t be a career builder. Even in peaceful Rowan County his job could get dicey. Witness today’s dead body. It would help to have the press—such as it was—on his side.

He didn’t think he could go through the emotional turmoil again of getting attached to a woman only to find out why she really had attached herself to him. Or that she chose to inform him about it in a way that made him draw back into himself. Besides, he was still defining a place for himself in Rowan County and this new job. Getting involved with the wrong woman could really screw things up.

But Jesus. Apparently his hormones weren’t paying any attention. Her body practically had
fuck me
written all over it, from the nicely rounded breasts to the curve of hip and ass. He wanted to grab her and kiss that sassy mouth until she was senseless and melted into him. Except he didn’t think Jinx Malone would ever be senseless or ever melt into anyone.

“Hey, Sheriff?”

Ric Nevada’s voice broke into his mental wanderings.

“Yeah, Ric?” He walked back to where the naked body lay.

“We’re ready for Don to transport the body for autopsy. I’ll hang out for a bit after that and make sure I didn’t miss anything.”

“Good enough. I’ll tell Neil and Greg to get these lookie loos moving on their way out of here. I’ll be in the office when you get back.”

Then, with emotions that were definitely mixed, he walked across the road to Jinx Malone’s car to give her the promised interview. He just hoped his cock would get the message his brain was sending it.

Chapter Two

Jinx tossed a handful of copies of
The Hill Country Herald
in her car. She’d managed by the skin of her teeth to change the front page of the newspaper before the print run. Now her story and Lew’s photograph—such as it was—took up the entire front page above the fold. It wasn’t
The New York Times
but it looked pretty damn good, if she did say so herself.

The phone had started ringing in her office on Friday afternoon as soon as the paper hit the stores that carried it and went live on the website. By Saturday when people fished it out of their mailboxes she was sure she’d heard from every single resident of Rowan County.

No, she had no idea who the victim was.

No, the sheriff didn’t have any additional information yet.

Yes, he was trying to identify the body.
Did they think he was an idiot?

Yes, she hoped to have more to report by next week’s newspaper.

With all the questions and emails, Jinx wondered if maybe she should start an update site online for the
Herald.
Lew, who she discovered loved all things electronic, would probably jump at the chance to manage it. She pulled out her cell phone and made a note on her Reminder list to talk to their web designer about it.

For the first time since the discovery of the body, she felt she could draw a full breath. She’d known it would be like that. The residents of Rowan County were chewing over the murder like vultures over the carcass of a dead animal.

Says a lot for the excitement level around here.

This afternoon she’d finally made time to stop in at Wally’s Western Wear and treat herself to a new pair of boots—with definite heels, thank you—and jeans that weren’t left over from high school. Now she was more than ready to kick back for the evening and enjoy some great Texas beef. She wondered if Amy would make some of her world-class margaritas? The two of them had certainly drowned their share of sorrows in them. But even if it was just barbecue and beer Jinx was definitely up to it.

She was proud of the way she’d handled getting the paper out, proud of the way she’d managed to take hold of things, and happy with the way she looked when she left the house. She found the local country rock station on her radio and punched up the volume. As she ate up the miles on the county highway, she let the music roll over her, even singing along with some familiar lyrics. For the first time since she’d crawled back from New York to lick her emotional wounds, she felt good. Even lighthearted. Maybe even on the way to happy.

She turned into the entrance of the Montgomery ranch and followed the winding gravel driveway to the cedar and limestone house, a warm-looking building with a welcoming wraparound porch. Two super-cab pickup trucks with the Montgomery Ranch logo on the door were parked in a gravel area just to the left of the house along with one that had Stark Ranch on it. There was a fourth one, no name on it, and Jinx wondered if Amy had invited someone else for dinner. Maybe someone they’d gone to school with.