Teresa Southwick

An Officer and a Maverick


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       “I’m sorry. That was wrong.”

      Lani blinked at him, trying to focus her fuzzy brain. “Why?”

      “I’m an officer of the law. Using a position of power to take advantage of you is the very definition of sexual harassment. You have every right to be upset.”

      Upset? Lani wasn’t the least bit upset. Russ had finally noticed her! He’d kissed her, and it had felt really, really good. She wanted him to notice her some more. “I’m not upset.”

      “Well, I wouldn’t blame you if you added sexual harassment to that false imprisonment complaint.”

      “Why did you really stop?” She slid closer, until their thighs were touching and her arm brushed his. The heat of just that small contact threatened to make her go up in flames.

      “I’ve sworn to uphold the law. There are rules.” His voice was ragged and he was breathing hard.

      So was she. And right this moment she didn’t give a flying fig about rules.

      * * *

      Montana Mavericks: What Happened at the Wedding? A weekend Rust Creek Falls will never forget!

       An Officer and a Maverick

      Teresa Southwick

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      TERESA SOUTHWICK lives with her husband in Las Vegas, the city that reinvents itself every day. An avid fan of romance novels, she is delighted to be living out her dream of writing for Mills & Boon.

      MILLS & BOON

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      To my brothers—Jim, Mike, Dan and Chris.

       Thanks for always being there. You’re my heroes.

       I love you guys!

      Contents

       Cover

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Epilogue

       Extract

       Copyright

      Fourth of July

      “I wouldn’t be surprised if someone strips naked and jumps in the park fountain,” Lani Dalton said out loud, to no one in particular.

      And no one in particular paid any attention to her, what with all the partying going on around her at the wedding reception. Everyone was having a really good time. Braden Traub had married Jennifer MacCallum, and there was little that folks in Rust Creek Falls liked more than celebrating a happy occasion. And wow, were they celebrating!

      It looked as if the colors of American independence had exploded all over Rust Creek Falls Park. Picnic tables were covered by red-and white-checkered oilcloth covers, while red and blue tarps had protected people from the afternoon sun, although it had gone down a while ago. Fireworks had been shot off but people were still hanging around, dancing, talking, laughing and drinking wedding punch.

      She’d just finished two-stepping with her brother and figured there was something weird going on for that to have happened. Nothing said relationship loser like dancing with your brother. Anderson was her favorite, but still... After chug-a-lugging her fourth—or was it fifth?—cup of punch, she felt a little light-headed. Sitting down suddenly seemed like an awfully good idea.

      Walking around and searching for an empty seat, she wasn’t watching where she was going. As a result, she ran into what felt like a brick wall and was nearly knocked onto her backside.

      Strong hands reached out and steadied her. “You okay?”

      Lani was pretty sure that voice belonged to Russ Campbell, a detective from Kalispell who filled in sometimes to help out Sheriff Gage Christensen here in Rust Creek Falls. She felt a familiar quiver of attraction lick through her as she looked up to confirm her suspicion. “Detective Dreamy.”

      “Excuse me?”

      “Lani Dalton.” She pointed at herself. “I work part-time at the Ace in the Hole, the local bar and grill. You’re Russ Campbell.”

      “I know.”

      “I know you know who you are.” She giggled and that surprised her because she wasn’t normally a giggler. “I meant that I know who you are and was introducing myself to you. Lani Dalton,” she said again.

      “Okay.”

      “Not much of a talker, are you?”

      The sheriff was short a deputy and Russ filled in at least once or twice a week. That’s about how often he came into the bar but he never really paid much attention to her. She, however, had definitely noticed him. He was tall and broad-shouldered