get worked up over kissing Kitty was a mystery. Despite the fact that she'd made them legally married, she was harmless. Incredibly sweet, but harmless. He even wanted to kiss her again right now.
He smiled. "Come here," he said, crooking his finger and stepping up to the cell door.
Her face sobered. "Why?"
"So suspicious?" he asked.
"Wilders learn that early," she said.
He thought of the older woman they'd seen the other night, her posture upright, her arms swinging in confidence. "When did your mother come back to town?"
Kitty's chin lifted a notch. "Six months ago."
"Would you mind my asking why?"
"Why she came back?" At his nod, Kitty shrugged. "You'd have to ask her. I don't know."
"She hasn't said?"
Kitty shrugged again. "Not to me. I haven't spoken with her."
Uneasiness feathered up his spine. Kitty's harmless, he reminded himself. He thought of butter pecan, New Kids on the Block, Pinocchio. Never boring, but harmless. "Come here," he said again.
She hesitated.
Reaching for his ace in the hole, he held up the cell key and dangled it. "It's time to go."
The door swung open with a rusty creak, but still she hesitated, which made him guess his desire was written all over his face. Pissed at himself for having made her so wary, he reached in and tugged her out by the arm. "I'm not going to bite." Or, he decided with a sigh, kiss her either.
Because with just his palm to her wrist, another electrical surge of attraction was already sparking between them. Kitty tickled his funny bone, and she probably was as harmless as he thought, but it wasn't smart for him to get close to her again. Not when the passion between them was mutual - no matter what she said - and so hot.
It shouldn't be hard to keep apart. He was famous for his detachment, after all. He dropped her arm.
She didn't move away. "I'm serious," she said. "I don't want you to kiss me."
"Fine." He didn't know why she had to repeat it.
"I don't even want you thinking about it."
"Fine." He didn't know why that pissed him off even more. She was harmless, remember?
"Ever," she concluded with a scowl. Then she turned away from him.
Battling rekindling resentment, he watched her walk toward the door leading out to the street. The cut of that damn dress accentuated the straightness of her slender shoulders and the tantalizing, slight sway of her hips.
Harmless.
She paused, her hand poised to throw back the door's lock; then she whirled. Her breasts rose over her dress, dangerously high, on a deep, serious breath. "Just so you understand, Dylan. I won't let you make love to me and walk away again."
She was gone before he found out he was still capable of movement. He hadn't heard a word she'd said, stunned as he was by yet another punch of lust. Just one look at her angel's body in that wanton's dress could knock him flat.
Harmless? Shit. Harmless as a heart attack.
CHAPTER SEVEN
On Monday, the only day of the week the living-history district was closed, Kitty left her small house around 1 P.M. to pick up Aunt Cat from her weekly hair appointment. she drove her 1969 T-bird - well, Aunt Cat's, actually, until she'd given up driving the year before - slowly through the streets of Hot Water. Navigating the T-bird was like steering a boat, Kitty thought as she floated through the intersection of Empire and Nevada, then grinned to herself. Why not a boat? Wasn't she the captain of her life?
The first two weekends with Dylan as Sheriff Matthews had been a smashing success. Even before her jubilant advertisements had run in the entertainment sections of the targeted newspapers, local word had spread. The first weekend had been busy. The next, the streets were downright mobbed.
Even the "arrests" had gone off without a hitch.
Of course, she'd had a few qualms after the very first one, but Dylan had performed the rest competently enough. Sure, she might wish he put a little more oomph into his role, but the truth was the visitors cared about looking at him, not looking at him doing anything in particular. He was a hero. A celebrity.
The icing on the cake was that he'd been very careful not to touch her, let alone kiss her. While she wasn't crazy about the handcuffs he whipped out to clamp on her wrist, at least it was better - safer - than his hands on her. She had enough trouble just putting the memory of