Marooned with the Maverick. Christine Rimmer

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ frowned down at him. “What are you doing?”

      He held her gaze. “Don’t get freaky on me, okay?”

      She looked at him in that pinched, suspicious way again. “Why not?”

      “You need to get out of those wet clothes. There are plenty of blankets. You can wrap yourself up in them and get dry.”

      “But … my clothes won’t dry.”

      “It doesn’t matter. Right now, you need to get dry.”

      She considered that idea—and shook her head. “I’ll take off my boots and socks. I’ll be all right.”

      He decided not to argue with her. “Fine. You need help?”

      “No, thank you.” All prim and proper and so polite. “I’ll manage.”

      “Are you thirsty?”

      She gaped at him. “Thirsty?” And then she let out a wild little laugh. “In this?” She stuck out a hand toward the water streaming down the lone window.

      “Are you?”

      And she frowned again. “Well, yes. Now that you mention it, I suppose I am.”

      He rose. “I’ll see if I can find some clean containers in the barn. We can catch some of the rainwater, so we won’t get dehydrated.”

      She blinked up at him. “Yes. That makes sense. I’ll help.” She started to rise.

      He took her shoulders again and gently pushed her back down. “Get out of your boots and shoes—and wrap this around your feet.” He held out another blanket.

      She took it, her gaze colliding with his. Holding. “What about you?”

      “Let me see about setting out containers for water. Then I’ll grab a few blankets and try and warm up a little, too.”

      Half an hour later, he had his boots and socks off. They’d pushed four hay bales together and spread a blanket over them. Side by side, wrapped in more blankets, they passed a bucket of water back and forth.

      When they’d both drunk their fill, there was still plenty left in the bucket. He set it on the floor, where Buster promptly stuck his nose in it and started lapping. “You don’t happen to have a nice T-bone handy, do you, Willa?”

      She chuckled. There wasn’t a lot of humor in the sound, but he took heart that at least she wasn’t staring blindly into space anymore. “Plenty on the hoof right outside that door.” She pointed her thumb over her shoulder at the door that led into the barn.

      He scooted back to the wall for something to lean against. “Not that hungry yet.”

      “I didn’t think so.” She scooted back, too, settling alongside him, and then spent a moment readjusting the blanket she’d wrapped around her feet. “There.” She leaned back and let out a long breath. “I believe I am actually beginning to thaw out.”

      “That was the plan.” Outside, the rain kept falling. The sky remained that same dim gray it had been all day. “Got any idea what time it is?”

      “I don’t know. Six, maybe? Seven?” She sounded … softer. A little sleepy. That was good. Rest wouldn’t hurt either of them. “Won’t be dark for hours yet….”

      He was feeling kind of drowsy, too, now that he wasn’t chilled to the bone anymore and most of the adrenaline rush from the various near-death events of the day had faded a little. He let his eyelids droop shut.

      But then she spoke again. “It’s really very strange, Collin, being here with you like this.”

      He grunted. “This whole day has been pretty strange.”

      “Yes, it has. And scary. And awful. But, well, that’s not what I meant.”

      He knew exactly what she meant. And why was it women always had to dig up stuff that was better left alone? He kept nice and quiet and hoped she wasn’t going there.

      But she was. “Maybe this is a good chance to clear the air a little between us.”

      “The air is plenty clear from where I’m sitting.”

      “Well, Collin, for me, it’s just not.”

      “Willa, I—”

      “No. Wait. I would like a chance to say what’s on my mind.”

      He didn’t let out a groan of protest, but he wanted to.

      And she kept right on. “It was very … humiliating for me, that night at the Ace in the Hole.” The Ace was on Sawmill Street. It was the only bar in town. People went there to forget their troubles and usually only ended up creating a whole new set of them. “It was my first time there, did you know? My twenty-first birthday.” She sounded all sad and wistful.

      He’d known. “I think you mentioned that at the time, yeah.”

      “Derek had just dumped me for a Delta Gamma.” Straight-arrow Derek Andrews was her high school sweetheart. They’d graduated the same year and headed off to the University of Idaho together. “Collin, did you hear me?”

      “Every word,” he muttered.

      “Did you know it was over between me and Derek?”

      “Well, Willa, I kinda had a feeling something might have gone wrong with your love life, yeah.”

      “You led me on,” she accused. “You know that you did.” He’d seen her coming a mile away. Good-girl Willa Christensen, out to find a bad boy just for the night. “And then you …” Her voice got all wobbly. “You turned me down flat.”

      “Come on, Willa. It wasn’t a good idea. You know that as well as I do.”

      “Then why did you dance with me all those times? Why did you flirt with me and buy me two beers? You acted like you were interested. More than interested. And then, when I tried to kiss you, you laughed at me. You said I wasn’t your type. You said I should go home and behave myself.”

      He’d had some crazy idea at the time that he was doing her a favor, keeping her from doing something she wouldn’t be happy about later. But with Willa, no good deed of his ever went unpunished. And was she going to start crying? He hated it when a woman started crying.

      She sniffled in her blankets, a small, lost little sound. “I still can’t believe I did that—made a pass at you. I mean, you never liked me and I never cared much for you and we both know that.” That wasn’t true—not on his part anyway. Far from it. But he wasn’t in the mood to dispute the point at the moment. He only wanted her not to start crying—and he thought maybe he was getting his wish when she squirmed in her blankets and grumbled, “Everyone knows how you are. You’ll sleep with anyone—except me, apparently.”

      Mad. Now she was getting mad. As far as he was concerned, mad was good. Mad was great. Anything but weepy worked for him.

      She СКАЧАТЬ