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Sovereign Sheriff
Cassie Miles
As sheriff, the law guided his decisions.As a man protecting a princess, his libido seemed to be in control…Sheriff Jake Wolf took pride in two things: his Native American heritage and his adherence to the law. So when Princess Saida Khalid came to him, desperate for answers to an unsolved case, Jake stuck to the facts–and tried not to get distracted by what he wanted. But ignoring Saida's gorgeous features and whip–smart mind were nearly impossible, especially when she claimed he was the only person who could keep her safe. Jake had every intention of maintaining a professional distance…even though he ached to hold her and promise everything would be okay. But remaining alert had to be his priority. And one touch would never be enough.
She wanted his kiss. Jake made her feel safe.
Her lips parted. Her eyelids closed. Kiss me, Jake. Breathless, she waited.
The pressure of his mouth against hers was firm and sweet. They shared a breath, an incredible intimacy. Excitement bubbled up inside her. She trembled, aware that this might be the best kiss she’d ever had in her entire life, not wanting this moment to end.
Too soon, he withdrew. Her eyes opened and met his. Both of them knew that kissing was inappropriate.
She hadn’t intended to put him in this position, but when he’d spoken so candidly of his father, she’d been touched. Jake wasn’t a man who shared his emotions. The lone wolf. He didn’t involve anyone else in his problems.
But he’d told her. For some reason, he’d trusted her.
“Tomorrow morning,” he said.
“I’ll be ready at eight o’clock.”
She took a backward step as he left the room and closed the door. She and Jake were going to make a very good team.
Sovereign Sheriff
Cassie Miles
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
In memory of Martha Pogrew and her red stiletto heels.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Though born in Chicago and raised in L.A., Cassie Miles has lived in Colorado long enough to be considered a semi-native. The first home she owned was a log cabin in the mountains overlooking Elk Creek, with a thirty-mile commute to her work at the Denver Post.
After raising two daughters and cooking tons of macaroni and cheese for her family, Cassie is trying to be more adventurous in her culinary efforts. Seviche, anyone? She’s discovered that almost anything tastes better with wine. When she’s not plotting Harlequin Intrigue books, Cassie likes to hang out at the Denver Botanical Gardens near her high-rise home.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Jake Wolf —The recently elected sheriff of Wind River County battles corruption in his department, prejudice against his Native American heritage and complications from crimes against the visiting royals.
Saida Khalid —The fashionista princess of Jamala attends law school in California. Drawn into royal intrigues, she trusts no one but the sheriff to find her missing brother.
Sheik Amir Khalid —The black sheep ruler of Jamala is missing and feared dead.
Maggie Wolf —Jake’s younger sister studies psychology at University of Wyoming and wants her brother to find a mate.
Danny Harold —The paparazzo who specializes in photos of royals has a secret agenda when it comes to Princess Saida.
Sheik Efraim Aziz —His old-fashioned ideas and imperious manner are softened by his love for an American woman.
Callie McGuire —As the assistant to the Secretary of Foreign Affairs, she is based in D.C., but her roots are in Wyoming.
Burt Maddox —Though the blustering former sheriff was suspected of corruption, he thinks he should run this county.
Wade Freeman —A local rancher looking into the oil business has a mysterious connection to Saida’s missing brother.
Prince Sebastian and Prince Antoine Cavanaugh —The twin brothers are corulers of the island nation of Barajas.
Prince Stefan Lutece —Ruler of Kyros.
Jane Cameron —The plain-Jane forensics expert for Wind River County has been glowing since she met Stefan.
Prince Darek Ramat —The Prince of Saruk would like to take over the interests of COIN.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter One
A night breeze swept down from the peaks of the Wind River Mountains and cooled the high Wyoming prairie. At his home five miles outside Dumont, Sheriff Jake Wolf opened his arms wide and welcomed the wind against his bare chest. His arms stretched over his head for a couple of modified jumping jacks. His twelve-hour workday was over. Thankfully, there had been no major catastrophes. No sniper attacks. No bomb explosions. No murderous abductions.
After he adjusted his jeans on his hips, he picked up a basketball and began to dribble slowly. The smack of the ball against concrete reminded him of his glory days at the Wyoming Indian High School when the Chiefs had won their first state tournament. Basketball meant more to him than the powwow drumming and the traditions of his Arapaho people. The first thing he did when he’d bought this two-story, cedar-frame house was mount a hoop and backboard above the garage doors. Earlier this summer, he’d hung a couple of floodlights so he could play after dark.
He made a quick pivot in his sneakers, dodging an invisible foe and went in for a layup. Swish through the net. Two points. He backed up, dribbled, aimed a hook shot. Another score. The physical exertion felt great. He ran and shot, ran and shot. Sometimes a hit, sometimes a miss. He wanted to sweat, to get his blood pumping, to feel alive. All day long he’d been clenching his fists, holding on to his self-control while he fended off reporters, coordinated with other law enforcement agencies and investigated a series of crimes the likes of which Wind River County had never seen. It all started a few weeks ago when the princes and sheiks of four island nations in the Mediterranean arrived for a summit meeting at the exclusive Wind River Ranch and Resort. The trouble wasn’t over yet; Sheik Amir Khalid was still missing.
Jake ran back for a three-pointer, turned and shot. The ball dropped neatly through the hoop. Nothing but net, baby.
“And the crowd goes wild.” His sister, Maggie, strolled from the two-story cedar house. “Come inside and eat. I made a recipe from the Food Network. Linguini with meatballs.”
“Not hungry.” With the way his sister cooked, he expected the meatballs to be the consistency of petrified elk droppings.
“Come on, Jake. You’re in decent shape for an old man of thirty-one, but you need to watch it. You’re going to get too skinny and no woman will have you.”
“Says the worldly nineteen-year-old.”
“Seriously.” She knocked the ball from his hand and shoved a bottle of water at him. “I’m only here for the summer. Who’s going to take care of you when I’m back in college?”
“I’ll manage.” Before the royals came to town, his time had been structured and sane. Usually, he’d come home for a lunch break when he tended to the three horses in the barn behind the house.
“It’s not like you have a social life,” Maggie said. “In the time I’ve been here, you haven’t gone on one single date.”
True enough. He’d been elected sheriff less than a year ago and was still preoccupied with cleaning up the mess left behind by Big Burt Maddox, the former sheriff. He uncapped his water bottle and took a drink. “Too busy.”
“The whole family is worried about you.”
He had two other younger sisters. One was married. The other had a steady job in Denver. Mama still lived on the rez. When all four of these women got together, they were a force to be reckoned with. “I’m fine.”
She dribbled toward the basket and made a layup. Her cutoffs and baggy T-shirt didn’t match her weird curlicue hairdo—no doubt a style she’d picked up from some fashion program on cable. Signing up for satellite television with over two hundred channels had been a mistake; his sister was starting to quote supermodels.
She flipped the basketball back to him and said, “There’s a name for what’s wrong with you. The lone wolf syndrome. Just like that stupid belt buckle you always wear.”
He touched his lucky pewter belt buckle with the howling wolf design. “What’s wrong with this?”
“If you’d sit down for a minute, I could explain. Lucky for you, I’m majoring in psychology.”
He looked toward the road and saw headlights turning off the road into his driveway. Gravel crunched under the wheels of a dark green sedan that pulled up and parked in front of his porch. A glance at his wristwatch told him that it was nine-forty-seven, which was too late for a friendly visit. Now what?
A slender woman with shining black hair emerged from the driver’s side. Her jacket was metallic gold, and her jeans fit like a second skin. Balanced on sandals with high platform heels, she came toward them. “Are you the sheriff? Jake Wolf?”
He nodded. “Who are you?”
She stepped onto the concrete, straightened her shoulders and announced, “I am Princess Saida Khalid of Jamala.”
Inwardly, he groaned. Not another royal!
His sister approached the princess and attempted a curtsy that looked ridiculous in sneakers and cutoffs. “I’m Maggie, Jake’s sister. Love your jacket. Is it designer?”
“Don’t remember.” She shrugged. “I’ve had it so long, it’s practically vintage.”
Maggie laughed as though this comment was the cleverest thing she’d ever heard. “Please come inside, Princess. Is that right? Should I call you Princess or Your Highness?”
“Call me Saida.”
“Did you come here from Jamala?” Maggie frowned. “Is that far? I don’t know exactly where Jamala is.”
“An island nation in the Mediterranean. But I live in Beverly Hills.”
Judging by Maggie’s rapturous response, California was right next door to Heaven. She babbled about Hollywood and movie stars and some kind of shopping area called Rodeo Drive—a place that didn’t sound as though they sold saddles and bridles. She tugged at her curled hair in an attempt to match Saida’s smooth bangs and straight shoulder-length style.
Nothing good could come from his sister idolizing a princess. He grabbed his dark blue uniform shirt from the ground where he’d tossed it, stuck his arms in the sleeves and fastened two buttons. “What can I do for you, ma’am?”
Saida smiled at Maggie. “Will you excuse us, please?”
“Absolutely.” His sister scampered toward the house. “You’re coming in, right? I have linguini.”
“I’ll be right there,” Jake said.
“I wasn’t asking you.”
He knew what Maggie meant, and she was going to be disappointed. He had no intention of encouraging the princess to stay.
“I adore linguini,” Saida said, “with clam sauce.”
“I’ve got to get your recipe.” Maggie rolled her eyes. “What am I saying? You don’t cook for yourself. I mean—”
“Maggie,” Jake interrupted, “that’s enough.”
He was sick and tired of all this kowtowing to the royal entourage. As individuals, he’d come to respect the princes; they were decent men stuck in a bad situation. But he was more than ready for them to get the hell out of Wind River County.
As Maggie disappeared into the house, Saida strode across the basketball court toward him. She made direct eye contact, compelling him to meet her gaze. A striking woman with flawless olive skin and full lips, she was as pretty as the models in his sister’s magazines. Looking into her caramel-colored eyes, he was surprised by the depth of sadness he saw there.
“You must help me.” She grasped his arm, and he felt the trembling in her fingers. “Please. Help me find my brother.”
