Northern Lights

was half afraid he might be blushing. He wondered if her obvious, and inappropriate, come-on had pushed embarrassment through the black.
    "Just where have you been hiding?" She laced her arms around his neck. "Party's been in gear more than an hour, and you haven't danced with me."
    "I had . . . things."
    "Work, work, work. Why don't you come play with me?"
    "I need to speak with the mayor." Please, God, help me.
    "Oh, this isn't the time for town politics. It's a party. Come on, dance with me. Then we'll have some champagne."
    "I really need to deal with this." He put his hands on her hips, hoping to nudge her back out of intimacy range, and searched the crowd for Hopp—his savior. His gaze struck, and locked onto Meg's.
    She gave him that slow, two-step smile, and lifted the glass she held in a mock toast.
    Then dancing couples whirled in front of her, and she was gone.
    "I'll take a rain check. I—" He spotted a familiar face, and latched on like a drowning man. "Otto. Charlene wants to dance."
    Before either of them could speak, Nate was beating a fast retreat. He made it to the other side of the room before he risked taking a breath.
    "Funny, you don't look like a coward."
    Meg stepped up beside him. She held two glasses now.
    "Then looks are deceiving. She scares me to death."
    "I won't say Charlene's harmless, because she's anything but. Still, if you don't want her tongue down your throat, you're going to need to say so. Loud, clear, in words of one syllable. Here. Got you a drink."
    "I'm on duty."
    She snorted. "I don't think a glass of cheap champagne's going to change that. Hell, Burke. Just about every soul in Lunacy's right here."
    "Got a point." He took the glass, but he didn't drink. He did, however, manage to focus on her. She was wearing a dress. He supposed the technical term was dress for the skin of hot red painted on her. It showed off that tight, athletic body he'd imagined in ways that might have been illegal in several jurisdictions. She'd left her hair down. Black rain to milk-white shoulders. Sky-high heels the same color as the dress showcased slim, muscular legs.
    She smelled like cool, secret shadows.
    "You look amazing."
    "I clean up good if the occasion warrants it. You, on the other hand, look tired." And wounded, she thought. That's how he'd struck her when she'd seen him come down the stairs. Like a man who knew there was a huge, gaping wound somewhere on his body, but didn't have the energy to find it.
    "Haven't got the sleep pattern down yet." He sipped the champagne. It tasted like flavored soda water.
    "Did you come down to relax and party or to stand around looking dour and official?"
    "Mostly door two."
    Meg shook her head. "Try the first for a while. See what happens." She reached out, unpinned his badge.
    "Hey."
    "You need a shield, you can pull it out," she said as she tucked it into his front pocket. "Right now, let's dance."
    "I don't know how to do what they're doing out there."
    "That's okay. I'll lead."
    She did just that and made him laugh. It felt rusty in his throat, but lightened some of the weight. "Is the band local?"
    "Everybody's local. That's Mindy on the piano. She teaches in the elementary school. Pargo on the guitar. Works in the bank. Chuck's on fiddle. He's a ranger in Denali. A Fed, but Chuck's so affable we pretend he's got a real job. And Big Mike's on drums. He's the cook here. Are you committing all that to memory?"
    "Sorry?"
    "I can see you tucking those names and faces into a file in your head."
    "Pays to remember."
    "Sometimes it pays to forget." Her gaze flickered to the right. "I'm being signalled. Max and Carrie Hawbaker. They run The Lunatic, our weekly paper. They've been out of town most of the week. They want an interview with the new chief of police."
    "I thought this was a party."
    "They'll just hunt you down the minute the music stops anyway."
    "Not if you sneak out with me, and we have our own party elsewhere."
    She shifted, looked straight into his eyes. "I might be interested, if you meant that."
    "Why wouldn't I mean it?"
    "There's the question. I'll ask you sometime."
    She didn't give him much choice as she angled around, waved. She was pulling him along with her, to the edge of the impromptu dance floor. Introductions were made, then she slipped away, leaving him trapped.
    "Really good to meet you." Max gave Nate's hand an enthusiastic shake. "Carrie and I just got back into town, so we haven't had a chance to welcome you. I'm