In Bed with Boone. Linda Winstead Jones

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      “Scoot over,” Boone said, lying back as if he actually intended to sleep here beside her.

      Her first impulse was to give him a gentle shove and refuse to scoot over. But if she was about to ask him for a favor, maybe that wasn’t the way to go.

      She scooted. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

      “I’m not sleeping on the floor again,” he said, stretching out beside her. “I’ll stay on top of the covers, you stay beneath.” A grin flashed across his face. “That way I can be sure you’ll keep your hands to yourself.”

      Jayne moved to the edge of the bed, giving the big man all the room he might need. “Won’t you get…cold?” She had been surprised by the night’s chill in this part of the country. Back home, May was warm. Some days felt almost like summer. Here the days were pleasant, but when the sun dropped, it was very clear that winter had not fully departed.

      Boone turned his head to look her in the eye. “Are you asking me in?”

      Jayne’s eyes went wide, and her heart thumped hard. “No! Of course not.”

      “I didn’t think so.” He rocked gently and the old bed squeaked.

      Not again. “I need to call my mother,” Jayne whispered.

      “Sorry,” Boone said as he rocked again.

      “But—”

      “We can’t take the chance,” he said, before she even had a chance to present her argument. He continued to move in a manner that made the bed rock and squeak. “You might be overheard, the call might be traced, and cell phones are notoriously insecure. Besides, my cell company doesn’t even have service out here. We’d have to swipe Darryl’s phone, and trust me, that’s not a good idea.”

      “Boone,” she whispered, pleading.

      He rotated his head and looked at her again. “Shouldn’t you be moaning by now?”

      “No!” she whispered. “I’m quite sure I should not.”

      “A nice loud yee-haw, then,” he suggested with a grin.

      “I do not yee-haw,” she said primly.

      “Oh, that’s too bad.” Boone’s grin faded. His eyelids seemed to grow heavy.

      Boone rocked so hard the headboard banged against the wall. And again. He moved faster, harder, and a mortified Jayne, who did not think she could watch this indecent display any longer, tried to turn away from him.

      And rolled off the bed. She squealed and landed on the floor with a thud.

      The gyrations of the bed came to a sudden stop, and a moment later a grinning Boone glanced over the side. “Well, that was different. But okay. The guys will just think we had a quickie.”

      “That was not…” Jayne began, and then she pursed her lips. She considered sleeping on the floor herself tonight, but there was a draft. It was cold down here! Boone offered a helping hand, which she ignored. His grin faded and he stared at her, his expression hard and dark.

      The fall must have addled her brain. Jayne suddenly realized that she was lying on the floor wearing nothing but her slip and panties, and in the fall the slip had ridden up high on her thighs. “Do you mind?” she said coolly, fluttering her fingers in Boone’s direction.

      “Pardon me, ma’am,” he said, deepening his Southern accent and shifting away.

      Jayne gathered what was left of her dignity and crawled back beneath the covers, while Boone remained on top. As soon as she was situated, he sat up and pulled off his black T-shirt.

      “It’s awfully chilly to be sleeping without…something on.”

      He tossed the shirt aside and lay back down. “I’ll be fine. Nice of you to be concerned for me, though.” There was just a touch of sarcasm in that last sentence.

      At least he kept his jeans on. When he reached over and turned off the bedside lamp and they were left in darkness, Jayne breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe if she didn’t have to look at him, she wouldn’t be so…so distracted.

      “I’m not being silly in wanting to call my parents,” she whispered.

      “I know. They’re bound to be worried.”

      “That’s true, but I’m also anxious about what my father might do. If this area is overrun with federal agents, army, navy, marines…”

      “Navy in Arizona?” Boone asked, humor in his deep voice.

      “Probably,” she said softly.

      “We’ll be fine,” he assured her.

      How could she tell Boone that if he got killed or hurt because she’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, she’d never forgive herself? There was more than one danger to worry about. If Darryl found out who she was and that Jim had survived, they were both in trouble. If they actually did get out of here and Boone was mistaken for a kidnapper, he might be dead before she had a chance to explain things.

      Apparently Boone didn’t want to talk anymore. Just as well. The man confused her. He looked like a criminal, he cursed too much, he was crude and wicked. But he was also one of the good guys. An angel. A modern-day knight.

      More than that, he was sexy as all get-out. The smile, the eyes, the body. A quickie? She knew what a quickie was, thank you very much. Her one sexual experience had lasted less than two minutes, and it had been painful and unpleasant. She hadn’t minded at the time, because she’d thought the man who had asked her to marry him actually loved her, and that things would get better with time.

      But she and Dustin Talbot hadn’t had time. She’d found out too soon that the only reason he’d asked her to marry him was that he had political ambitions, and being married to Gus Barrington’s daughter would be a real boost for his career.

      Since her recovery from that disastrous encounter, she’d been cautiously guarding her heart and waiting. Waiting for the perfect man to come along. Waiting for her knight in shining armor to appear.

      She might occasionally think of Boone as a kind of errant knight, but he was far from perfect.

      Maybe she’d waited too long. She was twenty-seven years old, and no man had ever made her moan or shake or shout yee-haw.

      As Jayne drifted toward sleep, she chastised herself. She’d be lucky to survive the coming days, and here she was worried about her sex life! Or lack thereof.

      But once, just once, she’d like to shout yee-haw.

      Boone awoke slowly, reluctant to return to the world of the waking. He’d feel better if he didn’t have to sleep at all, at least not on this job. He didn’t trust Darryl. And Darryl didn’t trust anyone.

      There were four of them living in this shack, five if you counted Jayne, and yet there was only one working cell phone. Darryl’s. One car. Darryl’s. This shack was well off the beaten path, and whenever anyone needed to СКАЧАТЬ