Corn Field Surveillance: A Short Story, Page 3

truck to get in the driver’s side.

  He reached across her and she stiffened, pressing back against the seat. “I’m just getting into the glove box for the first aid kit. Relax. Haven’t decided if I’m going to arrest you yet.”

  “What? You’ve got to be kidding.” This was getting worse and worse. She could hear the gossip now. And there was nothing worse than the cop grapevine. Her reputation was going to be toast.

  He turned on the interior light, opened the first aid kit and started pulling out gauze, alcohol pads, Band-Aids, and some ointment. It gave her a chance to really look at him. The man was huge without a fat cell in his body. She hadn’t been exaggerating before when she told Michael he could have played for the Colts.

  “Take off your sweatshirt.”

  “Excuse me.” She didn’t care how big he was, she was not going to start taking off her clothes.

  “Take it off or I will. I need to see your injuries.”

  He glared at her with a dare in his eyes that told her he would not hesitate to rip the sweatshirt from her body. She slowly unzipped it and pulled her arms through the sleeves revealing the brown camisole underneath. When she set it in her lap, she noticed it was wet with blood that covered the front. Her blood. She looked at Hansen who was doing a pretty good job of checking out her breasts.

  He turned her around and leaned in to study her face. “Bet it was quite a fight. Who won?”

  She gave him her most hateful scowl, which he ignored as he held her chin. He wiped at the blood with some gauze, and then peeled back the foil on an alcohol pad.

  “Damn it. Do you have to use that? It’s going to hurt like hell.”

  “Yes, I have to use it. It will hurt more if those cuts get infected. Hold still and quit acting like a baby.”

  Sadist. He was probably enjoying this. And, she did not act like a baby. She was right about the pain. It took all the self-control she had not to shriek each time he dabbed a cut with the pad. He followed with some ointment, then leaned back to look at her again.

  “You’re going to have a shiner.”

  “Great. I’ve got a new dress that will match it.”

  “That will do it for your face. What about your other injuries? Maybe you better take off your shirt and pants.”

  “Oh, hell no. We’re through playing doctor, Deputy Hansen.”

  “You know my name?”

  “Lucky guess.”

  “No, it’s not. How do you know my name? Have we met?” Even though he said the words, there was no way they’d met. He would have remembered those whiskey brown eyes, blonde hair, full breasts, and tight body.

  Something vibrated against her hip and she pulled her cell phone out of her hip pocket. It was Ted. “I need to get this.” He nodded and she slid out of the passenger seat, closed the door and leaned against the truck feeling Hansen’s glare on her back.

  “Hey, where are you?”

  “I ran into a situation. I’m dealing with it now.”

  “What kind of situation?”

  “Can’t talk now. I’ll call you later.”

  She got back into the truck and looked at Hansen who was drumming his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel.

  “Let’s start by talking about what you were doing in the field.”

  “I recently took up stargazing. Did you notice how bright the Little Dipper is tonight?”

  “You’re a real comedian, aren’t you? Since you’re a P.I., my guess is someone hired you to keep an eye on Anne Mason. You need to tell me who.”

  “I’m sorry but that’s confidential information.”

  “Who hired you?” He used his best don’t-fuck-with-me glare that usually brought suspects to their knees. It had no effect on her.

  “Confidential.”

  His eyes scanned over her face, noting the squint of her eyes and the set of her jaw. This woman had no fear and the chances he’d get any information out of her was pretty slim. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

  “Who’d you shoot at?”

  “Don’t know. Could have been a corn poacher.” She looked at him using her most wide eyed, innocent look as she shrugged her shoulders.

  “Bullshit. And I might add you’re getting on my last nerve.” He was getting pissed and would have had her flattened on the ground if she’d been a man.

  “Sorry about that, deputy.”

  That was the last straw. He jerked his seat back and hauled her over the console so she landed on his lap with a gasp. She pushed against his chest to make some space between them. A current of lust shot through him and he pulled her into a kiss.

  It was supposed to be a punishing kiss but once he tasted the blood from the cuts on her lips, he probed her mouth gently. Her mouth felt hot, soft and very female. He wrapped his heavy arms around her to pull her closer.

  Warmth flowed through her blood and Frankie leaned into the kiss winding her arms around his neck. She couldn’t remember the last time a kiss felt this good. She let her tongue flicker inside his mouth. He moaned and pulled at her leg so that she sat straddling him. Crap. What was she doing? What was she thinking? She pulled her head back. Their gazes locked and a spark of heat flashed between them.

  “I think we should stop now, don’t you officer?”

  “Nope and I’m off duty.”

  She pushed herself back to the passenger seat. “Oh, really? So that threat earlier about arresting me was pretty much bullshit, right?”

  “No more bullshit than the weak stories you’ve been giving me.”

  She yanked open the truck door and slammed it soundly. Asshole. He was a good example of why she didn’t date cops. Bullshitting and downright lying came too damn easy for them. Damn, Lane Hansen anyway. And he better not tell his cop pals how someone got the drop on her in the field. Damn him. And where did he learn to kiss like that anyway?

  He watched her walk away, while pushing a couple of buttons on his cell phone. “Hey, Sally, I heard you were working nights now. Honey, I need a little favor. Would you please get me all you can find on a P.I. named Frankie Douglas?”

  She thought she would never find her car. By the time she got to it, she was exhausted and cursed herself for parking it so far away. What a crappy night and now she had to tell her boss just how badly she screwed up. When he found out she’d let his suspect get away, he’d fired her or worse.

  "Corn Field Surveillance", copyright 2012 by Alexa Grace

  This short story is from the romantic suspense novel Deadly Offerings by Alexa Grace available for 99¢ on:

  About the Author

  Alexa Grace entered the world of romantic suspense writing to meet a goal set in her childhood.

  She has two degrees from Indiana State University. After an exciting career in Training & Development, her focus is on writing page-turning romantic suspense novels.

  Alexa currently lives in Florida with her daughter and is a member of Romance Writers of America. She is an avid reader of romantic suspense novels and a lover of schnauzers. As a writer, she is fueled by Starbucks lattes and chocolate.

  Connect with Me Online

  Website: https://www.alexa-grace.net

  Email: [email protected]

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Alexa-Grace/211195905632340

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/AlexaGrace2

  Coming Soon—Deadly Delivery

  In Deadly Delivery, the second adventure in this sizzling romantic suspense trilogy, enter the disturbing world of illegal adoptions and baby trafficking with new detective Lane Hansen and private investigator Frankie Douglas. Going undercover as husband and wife, Lane and Frankie struggle to keep their relationship strictly professional as their irresistible passion threatens to burn out of control.

 
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