Rock-A-Bye Rescue. Karen Whiddon

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       Chapter 2

      Jamming her feet in boots, Lila grabbed her father’s hunting shotgun from over the fireplace and rushed outside. “Hey!”

      The man in the dark coat jerked his head around.

      She raised the shotgun and aimed at him. In an angry voice, she shouted, “You’ll be putting that ax down now, then getting the hell off my property.”

      The man didn’t move, only stared at her with dark eyes. He sported a couple of days’ growth of facial hair, and though the beard was trimmed and neat, the look still gave him a rugged edge. When he only glared at her for long seconds, her pulse picked up an increasingly ragged cadence.

      Rather than backing down, the man seemed to grow larger, his body bowing up as he slowly squared his shoulders and moved into a defensive position.

      “Put the gun down.” His voice grated like steel on flint.

      Lila tightened her grip, and a chill rippled through her. He still clutched the ax with one hand, and his free hand balled and flexed aggressively.

      She’d thought the shotgun would be enough to scare off a casual thief. She forced enough spit into her dry mouth to swallow. “I said put the ax down and get the hell off—”

      “Lila?” His voice was still deep and gruff, but now full of intrigue.

      A prickle chased down her spine. He knew her name? “Wh-who are you?”

      He took a couple steps closer, the ice and crust of snow crunching under his boots. “Is that you, Lila?”

      She re-aimed the shotgun even as she stepped back from him. “Who are you? What do you want?”

      He angled his head toward her and narrowed his eyes even more. “You put that shotgun away, and we’ll talk. Otherwise, I’ll have to take it from you the hard way.”

      Something in his stance, his size and the lethal look in his eyes told her he could easily get the shotgun from her if he wanted. Assuming she couldn’t get a shot off first. Her father had taken her hunting, taught her to shoot. But it had been years since she’d fired a weapon, and she wasn’t sure she had the nerve to shoot a man if she had to. Mistake number one. She could hear her father telling her, “Never pick up a weapon you don’t have the skill and will to use.”

      A tremble raced through her, one she felt sure he saw.

      A muscle in his tense jaw twitched. He raised his free hand and uncurled his fingers. “Come on, Lila. Hand it to me.”

      “No.” She forced starch into her stance and lifted her chin. “Tell me who you are. How do you know my name?”

      He seemed a bit deflated by the notion she didn’t recognize him. “We spent summers together, our families. My parents’ cabin, my cabin now, is on the other side of the ridge.” He motioned to the steep hillside behind him.

      The only other cabin in the area when she was a teenager had belonged to the Hamiltons. She had, indeed, spent summers with the family. With the Hamiltons’ son. A memory tickled her brain. A schoolgirl crush. A boy with a wickedly handsome face and devilish grin. The police showing up at their summer’s-end cookout to arrest the boy.

      Her stomach swooped, and her breath stuck in her throat.

      “Dean?” she rasped.

      He lowered his head in a slight nod, his eyes still vigilant.

      Now she scrutinized him, looking for any resemblance to the troubled and reckless teenager she’d known years ago. The inky hair and dark eyes were the same, but the sinewy body had been transformed. His shoulders were broader, and through the gap in his open coat, she could see the evidence of a tautly muscled torso. Even his hands were large, strong...virile.

      She gave her head a quick shake as if to banish the inappropriate response from her mind. She may have had a youthful crush on him as a teenager, but Dean Hamilton had proven himself the wrong sort of guy. His frequent scrapes with the law had landed him in a juvenile boot camp. She had no interest in getting entangled with another man like her ex, a man with no integrity.

      “So...you do remember me.” He arched one black eyebrow, and Lila’s pulse fluttered.

      “So...you’re still a thief,” she countered.

      Now his brow furrowed in a deep, angry V. “Thief?”

      She indicated the ax with the barrel of the shotgun. That split second of diverted attention was all he needed to surge forward, startling her, and seize her weapon.

      When she skittered back from him, her foot slipped on the ice. Lila gasped as she lost her balance, and just as quickly as he’d disarmed her, he whipped a hand around her back and caught her under her arm, keeping her on her feet. With a firm tug, he hauled her up against his body, anchoring her until she could get her feet under her again.

      The rapid transition from armed defender to vulnerable captive left her breathless. Lila shivered and raised wary eyes. “I-I’m okay. You can let g-go now.”

      The corner of his mouth twitched. “Maybe I’m not ready to let you go.”

      His dark gaze roamed over her face, then down toward her chest. A gleam she could only call predatory shimmered in his eyes. “It’s been a long time since I held a woman this close. Especially one as pretty as you.”

      Pressed against him as she was, she’d bet he could feel the heavy drubbing of her heart against her ribs. “I’d guess not. Not a lot of female company in prison,” she gibed, then immediately regretted it.

      His grip tightened, and his eyes grew even darker and more threatening. СКАЧАТЬ