Page 32 of Temptation
Debra lunged forward, stopping her. “Oh, hell, no, you’re not touching evidence.” Then she shoved the file and calendar—it was a little book calendar, bound in leather—under one arm and whipped out handcuffs. “Sloane Armstrong, you’re under arrest.”
“For what?” Sloane cried. “Come on, this cannot be happening!”
A cuff locked around her wrist.
It was happening.
I brought her home. I wanted to keep her close. I…wanted her.
Correction, he still wanted her.
While she’d been…using him? Stalking him.
“This—this Joshua person broke into my room at the inn! He went through my belongings without permission!” Rushed words from Sloane. “I haven’t committed any crime! You can’t arrest me when I haven’t done anything wrong!”
But Debra spun her around so that Sloane faced Preston. So that Debra had both of Sloane’s hands behind her back. And Debra locked the second cuff around Sloane’s wrist.
“Stop this,” Sloane said.
Preston’s stare lifted to her face.
“You can stop this right here and now, Preston. I know that you’re close with the sheriff.”
“You know…because you’ve been stalking me?”
“That is such an unfortunate word.”
And that wasn’t an answer.
Sloane swallowed. “Tell her to take the cuffs off.”
“I don’t work for him,” Debra snapped at her. “We’re going to my station. We are going now.”
“I don’t even have shoes on my feet! Dammit, Preston, help me!”
He wanted to scoop her into his arms. To run like hell away with her. “Have you been stalking me?” Yes, he used her unfortunate word.
And there it was. He saw it in the flicker of her thick lashes. The ripple that swept across her too gorgeous face. Guilty.
Fuck.
“It’s not what you think,” Sloane whispered.
Debra was tugging her away. Pulling her down the steps. Toward the patrol car.
“It’s not,” Sloane insisted as she twisted and tried to get back to Preston.
“You have the right to an attorney,” Debra informed her. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in?—”
“What are my charges? I don’t remember hearing?—”
“Conspiracy to commit kidnapping.”
“What?” Sloane’s mouth opened. Then snapped closed. “I didn’t kidnap Preston! I was trying to help him! Preston, Preston, dammit, listen to me! Help me!”
She was at the sheriff’s car.
“I’m about to add resisting arrest,” Debra huffed.
