Arrested By Love

By: Kathryn R. Blake


I'd like to thank Patricia Green for introducing me to Blushing Books. Without her, this book would never have been written. My thanks also go to Bethany at Blushing Books for accepting my story, and Korey Johnson for holding my hand through the process.

Last, but not least, I'd also like to thank my hubby, who, though he really doesn't understand the genre, goes out of his way to support me in so many ways.


Chapter One

Tiffany Morgan did not need the officer behind her to yelp his siren just to let her know she needed to pull over. She could see the flashing red and blue lights reflecting ominously in her rearview mirror just fine. Thank you very much. With a wince, she slunk down guiltily in her seat. She'd wished and hoped for this, except now she'd wondered if she hadn't been just a little too rash with her plan.

Gazing into her side mirror, Tiffany could feel her rear end clench with dread as Officer Kyle Andrew Sinclair slowly rose out of his car and purposefully strode over to hers. Why couldn't he be like a normal guy and just ask her out? Why did he make her resort to these childish tactics just to get his attention? And dear God, why did he have to look so gorgeously edible in his dark blue winter uniform and cap? Her insides gave a little flip at the thought of talking to him again. All she could do was hope and pray he'd end up reacting as pleased as she'd envisioned him.

However, this wasn't the first time she'd gotten on the wrong side of the handsome, but very strict, officer-of-the-law. And it probably wouldn't be the last. Although, she'd much prefer being on his good side, she was eager to have him on any one of her sides--top, back, right, or left. Just having him next to her made her knees grow weak. He made her feel desirable, feminine and petite.

At five feet six, though not terribly tall, there weren't many men in town that could make Tiffany feel tiny and delicate. However, Kyle always could, and with nothing more than a crook of his finger and a single flash of his rich, dark brown eyes. They were hidden now behind those dark mirrored sunglasses that were so popular. Even so, she had no doubt they were thinly narrowed and scowling at her right then.

He tapped on her closed window. Swallowing, she pressed the button lowering the thin glass barrier that separated them. "Yes, Officer Sinclair?" she asked trying to make her voice sound innocent, yet sexy.

"I believe you should know the routine by now, Miss Morgan. License and registration, please."

"Yes, sir," she replied deferentially in an effort to ease his anger a little. When she'd gotten into trouble before, she accidentally discovered that it pleased him when she deferred to him as "sir."

Handing him the documents she had ready and available on the seat beside her, she watched as he perused them, probably just to make sure she hadn't let either of them lapse. That could get her in hot water with him, too. Kyle was a stickler for following rules and regulations, which was very unfortunate for her. Looking up at his stern features, she patiently waited for him to pass judgment.

He jotted something on the pad he held. No doubt her license number. He fully intended to give her a ticket, except she had other plans. If she had the nerve to carry them out, that is.

"Did you realize you were going 45 in a 20 mile per hour zone? A school zone?" he asked in his official police officer voice.

"Yes, sir," she answered, knowing there was little point in denying it. She had been speeding on purpose in hopes she'd catch the officer's attention. The kiddies were all safe in school, so she wasn't being reckless, exactly, just speeding. Was it possible to barely break the law?

He pushed his glasses down his nose to glare at her straight on. "You knew you were speeding?" he asked, incredulity stamped on his rugged features.

"Yes, sir," she answered, looking up at him and giving him her best ingenuous smile.

Pocketing his pad along with her license and registration, he took a single step back. "Step out of the car, please, Miss Morgan," he snapped, his tone revealing a barely suppressed anger.

Closing her eyes, Tiffany swallowed for courage, then stepped out into the crisp January air as he'd commanded.

"Turn and place your hands on the roof of your car, please," he insisted, his hand on his gun.

Though she did as he ordered without comment, she thought he was really carrying things a bit too far this time. What was he going to do? Shoot her for speeding in a school zone? Frisk her for hidden weapons? She gulped as his strong hands did exactly that. She arched her back, unable to suppress a small groan at the impersonal, yet strangely erotic, pat down he gave her.

"Spread your legs, please," he commanded next, placing his knee between her thighs to ensure her compliance.

Though tempted to lean back and ride the firm thigh pressing against her backside, she restrained herself. His action hadn't really been necessary, since she had no intention of disobeying him, but now her panties were totally soaked through. She was only wearing a jacket and a short, tight skirt, having left her coat in the car, so it wouldn't have taken much for him to check her there, too. However, he was conducting his search in a totally impersonal manner. Damn him.