Her Montana Man. Laurie Paige

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СКАЧАТЬ Only someone who lived there would need to cover his or her tracks. She wondered if Pierce had figured that out.

      Chapter Two

      Chelsea didn’t want to be at his house, Pierce realized when she announced she should get back to the other cabin. She didn’t want to be around him, period.

      For some reason that made him angry. It also stirred up a demon that made him want to make sure she was as aware of his presence as he was of hers.

      He cursed long and silently, but it did no good. All the old feelings she’d once evoked in him were on a rampage. He wanted to kiss her, to yell at her, to…to… Hell, he didn’t know.

      “You can’t leave,” Kelly insisted. “We have to stay for the fireworks.”

      “We’ll have to move closer,” Pierce said. “The trees screen us from the east side of the lake.”

      His sister had an answer for that. “Let’s go over to Chelsea’s place. It has a perfect view of the entire lake.”

      Before anyone could protest, Kelly was on her feet and leading the way. Pierce gritted his teeth. He knew his sister when she was in her full-speed-ahead mode.

      “Another beer?” he asked Jim.

      Jim cast him an amused but sympathetic glance. “Yes, thanks.”

      Pierce retrieved a couple of bottles from his fridge and followed the other three across the stepping stones in the creek to the other house that was basically a smaller version of his own. He didn’t know what Kelly and Chelsea were planning, but he wanted no part of it.

      Eight years ago she’d chosen a residency in forensic pathology at a prestigious university hospital back east over a future with him. Who could blame her?

      For a moment he recalled how she’d looked—her eyes shining and filled with awe that she’d been accepted in the program. Then had come an expression of uncertainty, as if she didn’t know what to do with him. He’d wished her well and made it clear he’d never been interested in a long-term relationship with her.

      So what was she doing back in Montana? Knowing his sister, the answer wouldn’t be good news for him.

      Heaving a rough sigh, he carried the beers over to the deck bordering the lake and settled in a chair already in place for him…next to Chelsea.

      “Good timing,” Kelly said. “The fireworks are just starting.”

      Seeing Chelsea slap at her arm, he recalled that she seemed to attract every mosquito for a mile around and developed big lumps from their bites. “I’ll get some bug spray,” he told her.

      “I have some.” She went into the cabin and returned in a minute, smelling of citronella. She waved the spray can at them. “Anyone else?”

      Kelly held out a hand. “Yes. Honey, I’ll spray your back, then would you do mine?” she said to Jim.

      Pierce observed while the couple took care of each other. When he glanced at Chelsea, she, too, was watching, a quietness about her that was unsettling.

      Huh. She’d chosen her career over all else. If she regretted it, that was just too bad.

      Pleased that he was able to maintain the right psychological distance from her, he relaxed, took a swig of beer and enjoyed the first burst of fireworks over the lake.

      Chelsea woke fully alert and ready to get on with the day. She had three hours before the nine o’clock meeting in Pierce’s office. Plenty of time for a swim and workout.

      She donned a bathing suit and headed out the back door to the deck. The lake wasn’t deep enough to dive in at this point, but she could wade out to waist deep, then swim some laps. She set her waterproof watch for twenty minutes.

      The air was already comfortably warm, an indication that the day would be another scorcher. What had happened to those cool Montana nights?

      She waded into the lake, then laughed as chills raced along her thighs. The water hadn’t warmed up. She plunged in up to her neck, sighted a cottonwood as a marker and swam steadily up and down the shore between the deck and the tree for twenty minutes.

      Finished, she raced for the deck and the towel she’d left behind. “Oh,” she said softly upon seeing Pierce standing there in snug jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand.

      He tossed her the towel, his gaze colder than the icy water of the lake.

      “Good morning,” she said, determined to be cheerful around him. It was time to get over the past and move on.

      “That is the skimpiest bathing suit I’ve ever seen,” he told her.

      She looked at her two-piece suit. It was cut high on the legs as all of them were, but it wasn’t a string bikini or anything like that. “Surely not,” she said airily.

      Uh-oh, wrong thing to say. He looked as if he would like to choke her.

      “That outfit might be modest for the city, but around here, folks dress more circumspectly.”

      She couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing.

      Pierce glared at her.

      She laughed harder. “I’m sorry,” she finally managed to say, not at all sincerely. “It’s just that you sound so pompous and indignant, not at all like the Pierce who dared me to go skinny-dipping in the pool at my apartment building at three o’clock on a January morning.”

      He looked rather taken aback that she would bring up the passionate past, but she’d realized last night that they couldn’t pretend it didn’t exist.

      “I’m not here to discuss the past,” he informed her. “I have other things to do than watch out for you.”

      “No one asked you to look after me.”

      Gesturing toward her outfit, now hidden by the towel, he stalked toward her. “If some of the guys working here see you like that, they’ll take it as an open invitation to visit. I won’t have them distracted by a siren from the city.”

      Chelsea rubbed the end of the towel over her dripping hair. She’d never been called a siren before.

      “If it’s for my benefit,” he continued, “you’re wasting your time. I have more important things to do than get mixed up with you again.”

      Astounded at this proclamation, she stared at him. The situation was no longer amusing. Anger flamed. “Pompous and egotistical,” she murmured loud enough for him to hear. “You have changed in eight years.”

      His gaze drifted all the way down to her feet and back to her face. “You’re on my turf now. Watch yourself.”

      With that sage advice, he strode off, heading back to his house in a manner that suggested a charging bull. She leaned against the railing and frowned at his back, her temper unappeased.

      “You’d better watch yourself, too,” she called to him. “City СКАЧАТЬ