Donna Alward - "Falling For Mr. Dark And Dangerous"

Tidy. Sensible. Safe. That's how Maggie Taylor wants things. Until she opens the door of her tiny Mountain Haven Hotel to a tall, dark, and very dangerous stranger.

Nate Griffith offers a world of pleasure in his strong arms. But the lawman isn't looking for a peaceful retreat - he has a job to do.

It scares Maggie that Nate puts himself in the line of fire every day, and so she tries her hardest to resist him. But even a heart as closed off as Maggie's can't stay immune for long...

When he lifted his gaze she was watching him, and her expression was fascination mixed with shock that he’d been staring at her lips.

Attraction, he realized. It had been a long time since he’d felt it. But there was definitely a familiar surge in his blood as his eyes locked with Maggie’s, blocking out the muted sound of the television coming from the den. Maggie Taylor raised his temperature and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why.

It was a complication he didn’t need. All he really wanted to do was what he’d been sent here to do. He put on a good face; pretended this was just a vacation for some relaxation, but he wouldn’t have chosen this for a holiday. His idea of fun wasn’t in the middle of some godforsaken Canadian Prairie at a Bed and Breakfast. He certainly hadn’t expected to feel whatever it was he was feeling for the proprietress. He wasn’t sure if the desire to flirt with her was a detriment or a bonus.

The light from the candles sputtered, throwing shadows on her face. She was as different from his regular type as sun was from rain. Subdued, polite, grounded, yet anything but boring. It took a woman of character and stamina to lose a husband so young and still bring up a family and run a business. How had she done it all alone?

Jen coughed in the den and Maggie looked away as the moment ended. Nate caught his breath as the colour bloomed in her cheeks. He hadn’t imagined it, then.

“Excuse me, I should clean this up.” Her voice was over-bright as she scrambled up from the table, knocking over her empty mug.

“Oh, how clumsy of me!” Without looking at him, she knelt to the floor to pick up the pieces. Nate watched, amused. It had been a long time since he’d met a woman who intrigued him, and even longer since he’d had the power to fluster one the way Maggie seemed to be right now.

“Let me help you,” he suggested, pushing out of his chair and squatting down beside her.

Maggie sat back, one of the pieces of pottery in her left hand and a small shard sticking out of a finger on the opposite hand. A drop of blood formed around the tip.

“Maggie, take a breath.” Nate took her hand gently in his. “Are you sure coffee was a good idea?” He chuckled as he concentrated on her finger, pinching the fragment between his thumb and forefinger. “Perhaps decaf next time, hmmm?”

He pulled out the shard, but it had gone deeper than he expected and the drop of blood turned into a substantial streak.

He stopped and looked at the closed door leading off the kitchen. She had wrapped a napkin around the finger and stood up, taking the larger pieces of the mug and placing them gently on the table.

Nate changed direction and went through the door, feeling somehow like he was trespassing. This was crazy. Less than six hours here and he was flirting with the owner and wandering around her private living space. He went into the bathroom, surprised by the scent of cinnamon and apples coming from a scented oil dispenser plugged into the wall. Switching on a light, he was bathed in an intimate glow—no blaring bulbs here. Soothing blue and deep red splashes of colour accented the ivory décor. Nate felt very much like he was intruding.

He searched the small vanity cupboard until he found a white box with a red cross on the top. Then shut off the light and went back to the kitchen, where he found Maggie at the sink, the napkin off her finger as she ran it beneath cold water. She lifted it out of the stream and looked at it closely in the soft light from above the sink.

“Not at all.” Nate sat the kit down on the counter and flipped open the lid. “It’s not deep, so you just need a small bandage.”

“You’re right handed, aren’t you? Putting it on lefty would be awkward. I’ve got two capable hands.”

Maggie looked down at his fingers holding the bandage. Capable indeed. His hands were wide, with long tapering fingers. She swallowed, but held out her finger anyway.

The sound of the paper wrapper tearing off the bandage echoed through the kitchen. Nate stepped closer, anchoring one sticky end and then holding her hand before wrapping the rest around and sticking it to itself. Her heart pounded painfully; she was sure he could hear it as he applied the small wrap.

He started to pull his hand away, but for a long moment his fingertips stayed on hers. She lifted her eyes to his and found him watching her steadily. Oxygen seemed scarce as she fell entranced by his intense eyes, the shape of his lips. Lips that leaned in ever so slightly.

“You’re welcome.” And he lifted her finger to his lips and kissed the tip.

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