The Sheriff Gets His Lady. Dani Sinclair

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      “Modeling,” he said softly, as if he’d never heard the term before.

      Her fingers stilled. She drew in a breath. “Yes, modeling. You know, where a person wears designer clothing for the purpose of displaying said clothing to others.”

      He’d give her points for a quick rally.

      “Your daughter would be perfect for the line I have in mind.”

      “I thought you designed the clothing. Don’t tell me you also hire your own models.”

      “I do when I see a young woman who would do justice to them,” she argued. “She’s tall, willowy, blond, the perfect image of a young, upcoming executive. She’d make an excellent model.”

      “Over my dead body.”

      Noah heard a murmur of assent. He glanced around and saw that Alma had been joined by two of her cronies. Great. They were starting to draw a small crowd.

      “I’m going to ask you to step over to my office, Ms. Diamond. The red brick building across the street.”

      She tensed. “Am I under arrest?”

      “Not yet.”

      “What’s that supposed to mean?”

      “It means I want to run your identification through the computer. I’m asking for your cooperation.”

      “And if I refuse?”

      “Then I’ll have to insist.”

      Her lips tightened. She tossed her head in the direction of the onlookers. Alma looked smugly satisfied.

      “Very well, Sheriff.” She reached for her briefcase.

      “I’ll get that,” he told her quickly. “Head for that red brick building across the street.”

      “The one that says Sheriff on the window?”

      Without waiting for a response, she strode across the street, head high, her spindly high heels clicking against the pavement. He picked up her briefcase and followed, refusing to be distracted by the subtle sway of her hips. Skylar Diamond moved like a queen.

      Well, she should have stayed in her own little kingdom. Darwin Crossing was his town.

      The slim briefcase had no betraying bulge and not enough weight for a gun. He didn’t really think she was dangerous in a physical sense—unless he counted the sensual tug she created inside him without even trying.

      Noah shook his head. The briefcase was unlatched. He hesitated only a second before lifting the flap. Papers, disks, files, notebooks. A manila file with some handwritten directions sticking out. Finders Keepers was written in a bold scrawl across one of them. Now, why did that have a familiar ring to it? He didn’t have time to read more because she reached the office door and stood waiting expectantly.

      His lips curved wryly. He held the door open for her and allowed her to precede him into the office. The dispatcher, Marissa Hurtado, looked up questioningly. Noah gave her an imperceptible nod.

      “Go straight back to that first desk and have a seat, Ms. Diamond,” he directed.

      She paused to let her glance quickly scan the room, no doubt categorizing and dismissing the badly scarred furniture and the messy papers spread everywhere. He’d decided the papers bred in secret overnight just to frustrate him. Paperwork was the bane of his life. He set his hat on top of the newest stack and walked around his desk.

      “You might want to take off your sunglasses,” he suggested as she perched stiffly on the edge of the visitor’s chair.

      “Why would I want to do that?”

      He indicated the overhead fluorescent lights. “No sun?”

      After a moment’s hesitation, her hand reached for the glasses and slipped them off. Silvery-gray eyes met and held his gaze. “Happy?”

      He tried not to smile at her sarcasm. “Ecstatic.”

      “I’m so glad.”

      Noah thought again that she was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. Thick, dark lashes framed glittering eyes that held just the faintest trace of apprehension. But if she was nervous, it wasn’t enough to stop her sassy mouth.

      “So, now what?”

      “Now I’ll run your license and see if there are any wants or warrants.”

      She fidgeted and quickly stilled beneath his inquiring gaze.

      “Is that a problem?”

      “No. Of course not.”

      Her fingers tapped the edge of the armchair. She bit down on her lower lip in contemplation, drawing his attention to their fullness and the soft curve of her mouth.

      “I’m fairly sure I paid that overdue parking ticket,” she muttered.

      Noah didn’t want to like her. Especially since he wasn’t sure what sort of a threat she presented. But Ms. Skylar Diamond had a disarming way of draining the tension right out of him.

      “I’ll let you know if you did in just a minute.”

      She fidgeted some more as he waited for the connection. “Nope. No parking tickets. But you aren’t much for stop signs or speed limits, are you?” he asked when her information finally came up on screen.

      She settled back in the hard wooden chair and regarded him coolly. The telephone rang and he heard Marissa answer.

      “It’s a matter of perception,” she told him. “The New York police department can be very rigid about some things.” She sounded mildly aggrieved. “And I know I paid all those fines.”

      “So you did,” he agreed. Behind her, Marissa was dispatching his deputy clear out near Butte Point. Noah frowned before returning his attention to Skylar Diamond. “No wants or warrants came up.”

      “You sound surprised.”

      “You never know.”

      Part of him wished something had come up so he’d have an excuse to hold her until he knew what was really behind her sudden appearance here in Darwin Crossing. Alma’s suggestion coupled with the business card in her wallet brought back his earlier fears.

      “So I can go now?”

      The telephone rang again. He paid no attention. “In a bit. Mind showing me that card you dropped earlier?”

      Her silvery eyes darkened to gray-green while her nails bit into the wooden arm of the chair.

      “Yes.”

      “Why is that?”

      She held his gaze without flinching. “Because unless I’m under arrest, I’m going to leave now.”

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