Coming Home to Crimson
Autor:in
Michelle Major
Gelesen
19,3K
Kapitel
19
Harlequin
HarlequinChapter One
Unfaithful dirtbag. Cheating scum ball. Two-timing lowlife.
Idiot.
A slew of descriptive and mainly colorful phrases pinged through Sienna Pierce’s mind. That last word, though, she reserved for herself as she sped along the two-lane highway toward Crimson, Colorado. She’d left the ritzy mountain town of Aspen, and her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend now—in her rearview mirror.
She was an idiot for not seeing the signs earlier. Kevin’s late nights at the office, the last-minute business trips, the fact that they hadn’t had sex in... Well, she should have guessed something was wrong between them.
But he fit her world—her mother’s world. Kevin was her stepfather’s heir apparent at the investment firm. She never thought he’d jeopardize his future this way. Although what did it say about their relationship that she’d believed their strongest bond was his career aspirations?
Another wave of humiliation washed over her, bringing with it a mix of sweat and nausea. Interesting that embarrassment and anger were the most prevalent emotions right now. Her stomach churned, but her heart remained relatively untouched.
Did that prove she deserved the ice princess accusations Kevin had hurled at her across the hotel room as he’d rushed to pull up his boxers, while the woman in his bed hid under the Egyptian cotton sheets at the five-star hotel?
She adjusted the temperature inside the Porsche, cold air blasting from the vents in the dash. Perspiration continued to bead all over her body, droplets snaking down her spine. Her long hair clung to her neck, and she pulled it over one shoulder.
The weather on this June morning was perfect, the sky overhead an expansively brilliant blue she rarely saw in downtown Chicago. Mountains rose up to meet the sky to the west, their massive rocky peaks reminding her that she was just a speck on the earth in comparison. Sunlight beat down on the cherry-red sports car, the glimmering reflection mocking both her mood and the fact that at twenty-seven years old, she seemed to be having a premature hot flash.
With one hand on the steering wheel, she tried to shrug out of her tailored Calvin Klein suit jacket, the one that had always made her feel both powerful and sexy, like she could handle anything. Until forty-five minutes ago, when her professional attire and meticulously straightened hair had somehow given the appearance that she was trying too hard compared to the effortlessly seductive woman she’d caught glimpses of in that hotel room.
Nothing in her life was right at the moment, especially when one of her arms got tangled between the jacket’s sleeve and the seat belt. The car swerved as she yanked her arm, and she forced a deep breath. Oncoming traffic was pretty much nonexistent between the two towns, which was a bonus since the last thing she needed was to cause an accident.
Pull it together, she told herself as she lifted her foot from the gas pedal. How fast had she been driving anyway?
The answer to that question came as she glanced into the rearview mirror and saw red and blue lights flashing behind her. She let out a little growl, the thought of a speeding ticket fueling her temper.
This was Kevin’s fault, too. At least Sienna blamed him. She blamed him for everything.
Dust billowed around the Porsche as she pulled onto the shoulder and parked. She unfastened the seat belt and shrugged out of her jacket. It felt like shedding a thousand-pound wool coat.
Knuckles rapped on the window, and she pressed the lever at the same time she leaned closer to the air vents.
“I’m sorry, officer,” she said automatically, fanning her hand in front of her face. “I was having a bit of trouble taking off my jacket around the seat belt. I’ll be more careful.”
“License and registration, ma’am.”
The rumbly voice gave her pause and she sat back, glancing up into the face of a man who could have been the direct descendent of some Wild West lawman. The firm set of his jaw and rugged good looks seemed like a throwback to the era of John Wayne, although he wore a modern law enforcement uniform of a beige button-down and black tie, khaki pants and a gun clearly tucked into the holster at his waist.
The button clipped above his shirt pocket read Sheriff. Okay then, the real deal.
And not feeling all that friendly, if the tight line of his mouth was any indication. She couldn’t see his eyes behind the mirrored aviator sunglasses but imagined he was glaring at her.
“Of course,” she said and pulled her wallet out of the Louis Vuitton purse on the passenger seat.
“You know texting and driving is against the law,” he said as she handed him her driver’s license.
“I was having some sort of bizarre hot flash,” she blurted. “Not texting.” Even now she could feel the silk tank top clinging to her skin. “Anger induced, not hormonal,” she felt compelled to add, her cheeks flaming.
One thick brow lifted above the frame of his sunglasses, and Sienna resisted the urge to fidget.
“You were also driving twenty miles above the speed limit.”
“I certainly was not.” Sienna rolled her eyes. “I’d never drive that fast.”
“Ma’am—”
She pointed a finger at him. “I don’t like your tone when you call me ma’am.”
“I clocked you at eighty-five and it’s a sixty-five mile an hour zone that drops to forty-five as you come into town.” He paused, then added, “Ma’am.”
Sparks raced across Sienna’s skin. Somehow his tone had gone from patronizing to sexy-as-hell in one word. She had no idea what had possessed her to try to goad this small-town sheriff into a reaction, but her body’s response to him was totally unexpected.
And bothersome.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “This isn’t my car so I’m not used to how it drives.” The truth was she’d been too preoccupied with mentally trash-talking her cheating ex-boyfriend to realize she was driving recklessly. Kevin’s fault, as well.
“Who does the car belong to?”
“I don’t know.” She flipped open the glove compartment. “I assume it’s a rental. I took it from my ex-boyfriend.”
The sheriff leaned forward, his hands resting above the driver’s side window. The fabric of his shirt pulled tight across his arms, revealing the outline of corded muscles. “As in you stole it?”
“No,” she answered immediately. “I... It wasn’t quite like that.” She closed her eyes and drew in a breath. In fact, it was exactly like that.
She’d taken a private shuttle from the Aspen airport to the upscale hotel where Kevin had made a reservation. She’d originally been scheduled to come on this trip with him, three days in the mountains of Colorado with a few meetings thrown in to make it a legitimate business expense. Sienna hadn’t been back to Colorado in almost two decades, and to make a trip so soon after her estranged brother’s visit to Chicago last year... Well, it had been too much to even consider.
Yet in the end, she couldn’t stay away. Kevin had acted so disappointed she wasn’t coming, dropping subtle hints that he’d planned to pop the question in Aspen. So she’d taken a red-eye into Denver, then a commuter plane to Aspen, thinking how fun it would be to surprise him.
She’d surprised him all right, in bed with another woman. Could it get more clichéd than that? Her life had been reduced to a cliché.
“How about we start with the registration?” the sheriff asked, his voice gentling as if somehow he could sense what a mess she was on the inside.
That infuriated her even more. Sienna didn’t do vulnerable. People around her saw what she wanted them to see, and the thought that this mountain-town Mayberry lawman could see beyond her mask made her want to lash out at someone. Anyone. Sheriff Hot Pants, for one.
She dipped her chin and looked up at him through her lashes, flashing a small, knowing smile. “How about I write a healthy-size check to the police foundation or your favorite charity...” She winked. “Or you for that matter and we both go on our merry way?”
“Are you offering me a bribe?”
She widened her smile. “Call it an incentive.”
The sheriff took off his sunglasses, shoving them into his front shirt pocket. His eyes were brown, the color of warm honey, but his gaze was frigid. “How’s the thought of being arrested as an incentive for you to hand me the registration?”
He smiled as he asked the question. His full lips revealed a set of perfectly straight teeth in a way that made him look like some sort of predator. “Or perhaps you’d like to step out of the car and I’ll handcuff you? Another viable option, ma’am.”
Blowing out a breath, Sienna grabbed the stack of papers from the glove compartment. She hated that her fingers trembled as she leafed through to find the registration card.
She held it up without speaking, and the sheriff plucked it from her fingers.
“Do you have anything else you’d like to say before I run your information?” he asked conversationally.
“I might like to call my lawyer in Crimson,” she answered automatically. It would be just her luck that Kevin the scumbag had reported his rental car as missing after she’d convinced the bellman to release it to her. It had felt like a tiny sliver of retribution for what he’d done but now it was coming back to bite her in—
“You have an attorney in Crimson? I find it hard to believe you have ties to anyone in my town.”
“Your town,” she muttered. “Like you own it.”
“Ma’am.” This iteration was a warning.
“I do know an attorney,” she snapped before he could say anything more. “Jase Crenshaw.”
The sheriff laughed. “You know Jase?”
The way he asked the question made her feel two inches tall. As if Jase Crenshaw wouldn’t want anything to do with a woman like Sienna. Which was both ridiculous and possibly true at this point.
But she didn’t let him see her doubt. Never show anyone the doubt.
Instead she flashed another smile. “I certainly hope I know Jase. He’s my brother.”
* * *
Cole Bennett blinked. Once. Twice. He rubbed a hand over his jaw, then pulled the sunglasses out of his pocket and returned them to his face.
If the gorgeous and obviously high-strung blonde in the Porsche had told him her brother was the President, he wouldn’t have been more surprised.
He patted his open palm on the top of the car. “Sit tight.”
“Are you going to call Jase?” she asked, her voice suddenly breathless.
“I’m going to run your plates and make sure this car hasn’t been reported stolen.”
She snorted, a strangely appealing sound coming from a woman who looked so uptight he guessed she’d never made a noise that wasn’t appropriate for a luncheon at a ritzy country club. Living in the mountains of Colorado, Cole had little use for anything fancy, even with Aspen an easy thirty-minute drive down the road.
“My cheating, dirtbag, sleazeball ex is probably too busy entertaining his mistress to even realize the car is gone.”
Cole was amused despite himself. “And when he does?”
She rolled her pale blue eyes. “I borrowed the car. I’m planning to return it.”
“I gather you recently discovered the cheating, dirtbag, sleazeball side of him.”
“Along with a view of his saggy, naked butt in bed with another woman—that part I could have done without.”
“How long did you date?”
“A little over two years.”
“And his saggy butt came as a surprise?”
She laughed, low and husky, and he felt it all the way to his toes. “I got good at not looking. He had other redeemable qualities.”
“Fidelity wasn’t one of them?”
He regretted the question when the corners of her mouth turned down. He liked seeing her smile and got the impression she didn’t do it half as much as she should.
“Apparently not.”
“Do I need to confiscate the keys so you don’t take off?” he asked conversationally. “I’m not in the mood for a car chase today.”
She met his gaze, her blue eyes sparking with some emotion he couldn’t name but that resonated deep in his gut. “Do I look like a flight risk?”
“You look like ten kinds of trouble,” he answered, then turned and headed for the Jeep he drove while on duty. Cole Bennett didn’t need trouble in his life, no matter how appealing a package it came wrapped in.
Both the car and the woman checked out fine, but Cole didn’t trust that things wouldn’t go south when the ex-boyfriend realized the car was gone. Maybe she was indeed going to return it, or maybe she was going to do something stupid that would end up bad for all of them.
Cole prided himself on his ability to read people and situations. It was a skill he’d learned first in the army and then through a more recent career in law enforcement. But Sienna Pierce was an enigma.
On the surface, she was a perfect, polished society type—the kind of woman he would have looked right through on any given day. But a current of something more ran just below the surface—a feral energy he didn’t quite understand but that drew him despite his better judgment.
He glanced through the front window of the Jeep to the Porsche and sighed. He could call Jase and dump this problem onto his friend’s doorstep. There was no doubt Sienna was going to be a problem. Jase rarely talked about the sister who’d left with their mother when they were kids.
But Cole knew his friend had received a letter from his estranged mother last fall. It had pushed his recovering alcoholic father, Declan, off the wagon in a tumble that had almost cost Jase the town’s mayoral election and the woman he loved.
Jase was a good man, honest and loyal. Cole understood better than most how much that meant and what a rare commodity it could be. No matter what Sienna’s intentions were, her brother would give her the benefit of the doubt and open his home and heart to her. Cole wasn’t convinced she deserved that chance.
Sometimes people were too kind and they got hurt because of it. His mother had been one of those gentle-hearted souls. Jase likely was, as well, although his wife, Emily, was tough enough for the both of them. Either way, Cole would do his best to protect his friend. He made his decision, called the station to tell the department’s secretary his plans and got out of the car.
Sienna turned her head as he approached. She’d put on tortoise-framed sunglasses in the interim so her eyes were hidden from view. Also hidden—or at least ruthlessly tamped down—was any of the wild spirit he’d sensed in her earlier. The woman frowning up at him was so cold she could make a polar bear shiver.
“It’s your lucky day, ma’am,” he told her, handing back her license and registration.
Her rosy lips pressed together. “Is that so?”
“You’ve earned yourself a sheriff’s escort.”
“Was the car reported stolen?” she asked with much less concern in her voice than he would have expected. “Are you arresting me?”
“The car’s fine,” he answered. “For now. I’m going to make sure it stays that way. We’re heading back to Aspen, Ms. Pierce, to return the Porsche.”
“I don’t need your help with the car.”
“Good.” He leaned a little closer. “Because it’s not you I’m helping. It’s your brother I care about.”
