on>
“I can’t think when you’re lying there naked.”
Despite the sheet covering her, apparently Luke could tell she wore no nightgown. Well, if the lawman had a problem with that, Roxy had the solution. “So take off your clothes and join me. You can show me your gun.” She giggled.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He shifted on his feet where he stood near the motel-room door.
She stretched on the bed provocatively, sticking her legs out from under the sheet.
He put his hand up to his forehead. “You’re a dangerous woman.”
“So come and give me a ticket.”
“For what?” he said, his voice tight.
She lowered the sheet from her shoulders toward her breasts. His eyes followed. It was as if with those deep brown eyes he touched each inch she revealed. “Indecent exposure.”
He swallowed. “Actually, I think I’m going to have to take you into protective custody.”
“Who will you be protecting me from?”
“Me.”
Dear Reader,
I’m so excited to introduce my first book. For me it’s both a happy ending and an exciting beginning. When I was writing Roxy’s story I knew a flawed yet feisty heroine might be a difficult sell. Fortunately, my editor saw the appeal of a character with a past. Roxy may be a bad girl, but she’s got a vulnerable heart.
Roxy comes from Dallas and she’s got it all—a trust fund with all the trappings. Raised by a staff of servants trying to mold a little redheaded girl into a debutante, she discovered that every act of rebellion got her the attention she craved. As a result, Roxy doesn’t hesitate to do anything that occurs to her and damn the consequences. She’s been down, but she’s never been out. And she’s never been in love.
Sheriff Luke Hermann loves his west Texas town. These are his people, and he’s always been able to anticipate trouble—until a long-legged gal drives her screaming yellow Porsche right into his heart….
I hope you enjoy this view of my home state of Texas. It would be so exciting to hear from you! You can write to me c/o Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.
Here’s to your own happy ending,
Mara Fox
I Shocked the Sheriff
Mara Fox
MILLS & BOON
Before you start reading, why not sign up?
Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!
Or simply visit
Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.
I dedicate this book to my own hero, Mark Horstman, who, once upon a time in Hawaii, sold his surfboards to buy a diamond ring….
Contents
1
ROXANNE ADAMS RAN her dry tongue over parched lips. “Damn. I’ve done it again.”
“Ohh,” she said as she raised her head and then rotated her neck. She grabbed the steering wheel in a punishing grip. The smell of vanilla car freshener filled her senses.
This time I’m safe in the Porsche.
Wearily she rested her head on the top edge of the steering wheel. She didn’t want to replay the episode from so long ago, but the nightmare scene from her last binge boiled over. The drunken man had lifted his head to tell her what a pretty girl she was. Naked, she’d looked up into his filthy face and had seen a mirror of what she’d become.
That vision kept her sober. That vision, the twelve steps, and all her friends from AA. It’d been over two years.
I can handle this. I can. I have to.
Tears moistened her gritty eyes. Sure, cry, you ninny, she told herself as she rubbed them. But Joey’s hanging on. He might have tried to kill himself, but he’s gonna get a second chance whether he wants to or not and this time he’ll make it.
Roxy groaned, then lifted her head from the steering wheel. She knew if she looked in the mirror there’d be a funny circle imprint on her forehead. It had happened before, more times than she cared to count. Sometimes she’d still been drunk and it had seemed funny, but not today.
Today, she was sober. She felt a cautious sense of elation.
Knocking on the window got her attention. She looked over into the condemning eyes of a man in a familiar uniform. That must have been what had awakened her. Why, oh why, had she driven out here?
But she knew. Driving out here had saved her.
“Open your door, please. I won’t ask you again.”
What was he going to do about it? Shoot out the windows? Drag her out of the car by her hair? The Porsche was legally registered in her name, a gift of love from her father for staying sober for a whole year. She’d tell this big, bad cop a thing or two…respectfully, of course.
No sense in ending up in a hick holding tank for sassing the local law. No matter how desperate her high school was for teachers, they’d fire her in a heartbeat if they found out she’d spent her summer vacation in a West Texas jail.
Funny, how the youngest person in her AA group had inspired her to