Secrets Rising. Suzanne Mcminn

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СКАЧАТЬ She didn’t need anyone, especially not a man. Get it together.

      “I’m okay,” she repeated back to him. The aching of her bones hit her, surfacing through the adrenaline. She was lucky she hadn’t broken anything in the fall, even as short as it had been. Lucky he hadn’t broken anything, either.

      “You’re okay, too, right?” she asked, to be sure.

      “I’m fine. Tell me what’s in here. Do you keep a flashlight somewhere?” He sounded steady, composed, organized.

      “No such luck. But matches—maybe.” She worked to catalog the cellar in her mind, recall what was where. She had to be strong now. Not fall apart.

      One wall of the cellar had been lined with glass canning jars. Some empty now, others still packed with the fruits of last summer’s gardening. Some old wooden stools. Boxes and antique trunks filled with forgotten items that had worked their way out of the farmhouse at one time or another. Tools that hadn’t been used in ages. A couple of old tables. Basically, junk. The cellar was full of junk. The wall on the other side was storage. There were some candles somewhere, stashed on one of those over-packed shelves….

      Vanilla-scented. They’d been a gift from a Christmas exchange party at church last year. She hated vanilla candles and she’d stuck them in the cellar, not able to bring herself to just throw them out. If they were still here…

      She’d absolutely love, adore and worship the scent of vanilla right now.

      Hadn’t she left an old box of matches here somewhere? And a can of gasoline. She’d used the matches and gas to burn the brush pile last summer.

      “This way.” She moved along the wall to the right of the door. Away from the center of the cellar, there was less debris from above, but there was shattered glass everywhere. She walked carefully, but stumbled anyway when something creaked overhead.

      Jake caught her as she made a strangled cry and she found herself dragged up against that hard, powerful body of his.

      “Whoa.” He held her for a long beat.

      She couldn’t see him, not even his eyes and they had to be only inches away. He smelled good. She hadn’t noticed before, but she did now. He smelled really good. Woodsy and male. She was ready to cling on to him like he was some kind of life preserver. He definitely exuded some kind of raw masculine energy that was messing with her mind, which was hardly stable as it was. Her head was all over the place, reeling.

      “Careful,” he murmured.

      “I’m trying.” She’d better try harder.

      The air in the cellar was suddenly thick with an odd tension. They were practically buried alive down here. He could be the last human being on earth she’d ever know. She was scared, terrified really, of dying before they were rescued. She’d lost her house, maybe her business for all she knew. But in the face of losing her life, suddenly it didn’t amount to much.

      Her family and friends—She had no idea what had happened to them. All she could do was desperately hope and pray. Images of her parents, her friends, flashed like photos in a slideshow in her mind.

      A sob choked her throat and she swallowed it down. She couldn’t do anything for anyone now but herself and this stranger beside her. She didn’t realize she was crying till she felt something wet and cold trickle down her cheek.

      “Hey. Come on. Let’s find those matches.”

      She nodded, then tried to find her voice.

      “Okay.” She squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to stop the tears.

      A hand touched her face. Jake Malloy’s hand.

      “Aww, now,” he said, softer now, brushing at the tear.

      Instinctively, she curled her arms around him, her hands sliding under his jacket, letting him pull her tight and comfort her there in that black void under her ruined house. She didn’t understand how she could trust him like this, but it didn’t matter. His arms wiped out that horrific fear.

      Her head rested against his chest and she could hear his heartbeat, steady and sure as hers was not. He kept right on being rock solid even with the world falling apart around them.

      And in the back of her mind, a crazy thought entered. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him. He moved against her, just slightly, as if checking his balance, and she shook herself and started to pull back.

      Something cold and hard stuck out of the waistband of his jeans, beneath the cover of his jacket, as she drew her hands down and away. Something cold and hard and metal…

      Her heart stopped and total fear slammed back in on her. She felt him freeze, and she moved quickly before he could, grabbed it in one hand and stumbled back, knowing what she held. Not needing any light.

      She was holding a gun.

      Chapter 4

      He felt the cold metal slide away from the waistband of his jeans and before he could move, she was gone, nothing but a ragged gasp in the darkness. He lunged forward then stopped cold at the low, fearful, shaking sound of her voice.

      “Don’t come near me. I’ll shoot.”

      “No, you won’t.” He hoped she wouldn’t. Hell, he didn’t know. He didn’t move.

      He could feel his heart thumping hard against his ribs. And he could have sworn he could hear hers, thumping, too. She was scared and he didn’t blame her, but he needed to get back in control of the situation. Scaring her more wasn’t the way.

      “I know how to use a gun,” she said, that soft, low voice of hers still uneven. “What I don’t know is what you’re doing with one.”

      “It’s licensed,” he told her, keeping his voice steady, reassuring. “I have a right to carry it. There’s no need to be afraid.”

      “I’m trapped here with you and a gun. I think I can decide for myself if I should be afraid or not.”

      “You already pointed out that everyone in town knows I’m here. My car is still outside. Rescuers will get here eventually. Why would I want them to find me here, in a cellar with a dead body and my gun? I’m not going to shoot you. I’m not stupid, remember?” Reason, he had to use reason on her. She was already frightened, for good cause, by the quake and the destruction of her house and their desperate situation.

      She was silent for a beat and he could hear the house creak over them again. She could hear it, too, and he heard her feet shift on the rubble, knew she was unnerved even more, wondered if she was trying to decide whether she needed to hold his gun, or hold him, to feel most safe.

      “Do you think I want to spend God knows how many hours alone down here, waiting for help, with a dead body?” he asked quietly. “I don’t want to shoot you, Keely. I—”

      His throat closed up a bit and the next words were hard to admit, but he had to make a choice, too. Risk a little of himself, or risk his life if he let a very frightened woman continue to point a gun at him. Situations got out of hand sometimes. He knew that too well.

      “I like СКАЧАТЬ