Stormbound With A Tycoon. Shawna Delacorte

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of wood on top of that, then bigger pieces on the top of the pile. It was time for her to arrive. I struck a match and lit the newspaper which immediately flared up and caught the small pieces of wood. When I was sure the fire was going I opened the front door and went out on the porch to watch for her. Before I knew what was happening, the room filled with smoke and it billowed out the door. A neighbor saw the smoke and called the fire department.”

      He turned and looked at her. “And that’s how I learned about dampers in a fireplace.” He emitted another gentle laugh mixed with a hint of embarrassment. “What about you? Do you have any most embarrassing moment from your past that you’d like to share?”

      Only two truly embarrassing moments leaped to her mind. The first one was having several people show up for what she thought was her lunch date with Dylan when she was sixteen years old. The other was catching her husband in bed with another woman. She had no intention of mentioning either incident. “I…uh…can’t think of anything right now.”

      “Oh, I see. I’m left here with my embarrassment exposed, and you’re keeping yours a secret.” His teasing grin let her know he wasn’t angry or upset.

      He had shared a personal experience with her, something from his past. It was a warm few minutes that left her enveloped in a feeling of closeness, one totally different from anything she had been prepared for. It was as if she was seeing a totally different Dylan Russell than the one she assumed she knew. The reflective moment was broken when he rose from the chair.

      “I guess the next order of business is to figure out exactly what’s blocking the chimney.” He bent down on the hearth and attempted to look up into the darkness, then turned back toward her. “Do you have a flashlight somewhere around here?”

      “Yes, in the kitchen. I’ll get it for you.” She hurried to the kitchen. Her desire to escape the smooth presence that had been lulling her into a very receptive mood was as strong as the need to retrieve the flashlight. She quelled the uncertainty churning in her stomach. Nothing was as it should be—least of all Dylan Russell. It was more than Justin having let him use the cabin. More than her having inadvertently climbed into bed with him. She feared just how much more it might turn out to be.

      Every time she tried to force him into a predetermined mold of who and what he was, he refused to fit. The harder she pushed and shoved, the more he seemed to resist. She found it very perplexing and very frustrating. She had a knack for being able to tag people as to who and what they were, but he refused to cooperate. Every time he flashed that sexy smile she increased her efforts to put him in his place and he seemed to resist all that much harder.

      She toyed with the idea that she wanted him neatly classified because she felt threatened by his devil-may-care freedom to do as he pleased whenever it pleased him. It angered her that without even seeming to try, he had managed to make a mockery of her ordered and sensible life. But that wasn’t the worst of it.

      His nearness sent little tremors of excitement racing through her body…tremors over which she had no control. And all this just from his presence. Other than when he wrapped his arm around her waist while he was asleep, there had been no physical contact between them. Unless you counted the brief moment when their fingers touched—a moment she could still feel as if it had happened only a second ago.

      He was not a physical threat, but he surely was a very real emotional one. She reminded herself that she was no longer that impressionable fifteen-year-old schoolgirl who had the major crush on her older brother’s friend. Nor was she the sixteen-year-old whose heart had been broken by the very same Dylan Russell. She swept the inappropriate thoughts from her mind and went in search of the flashlight and spare batteries.

      Dylan shuffled through a couple of closets while Jessica looked for the flashlight. He found a broom, an old mop handle and some duct tape. By overlapping the ends of the handles and taping them together, he had ended up with a long pole.

      “What’s that supposed to be?” Jessica asked as she handed him the flashlight.

      He leaned the pole against the wall and took the flashlight from her. “I’m making something long enough to reach up the chimney so I can dislodge whatever it is without having to go up on the roof and tackle it from that direction.”

      “Go up on the roof?” Surely he wasn’t serious about actually doing it. “It’s still raining. The roof has a very steep slope. It’s much too dangerous.”

      “I know.” He cupped her chin in his hand and uttered the words slowly, as if talking to a child. “That’s why I don’t want to go up on the roof if it can be avoided.” He saw the irritation dart across her face and immediately flashed a grin to let her know he was teasing.

      Then his gaze found hers. His fingers brushed across her cheek. It was a fleeting moment of intimacy that nearly took his breath away and left him totally confused. He tried to ignore the rush of heated desire by returning to the problem with the chimney.

      He snapped on the flashlight, leaned on the hearth and stuck his head into the fireplace. He sighted along the beam of light as it penetrated the darkness. “There’s something there, all right. It looks like it’s pretty far up. I hope this makeshift pole can reach it.”

      He withdrew from the fireplace and handed her the flashlight. “Here. Shine the light up there while I try to dislodge the obstruction.”

      Jessica leaned into the fireplace and turned on the flashlight, shining the beam up into the darkness. Dylan stared at her for a moment, then broke out in a soft chuckle. “You might want to get your head out of there unless you want whatever comes down the chimney to fall in your face.”

      She scooted out of the way while muttering under her breath, “I knew that.”

      He teased her obvious irritation at her own mistake. “Uh…what was that? I didn’t hear what you said.”

      She angrily snapped out a response to his teasing. “Are we going to try to clear out this chimney or not?”

      “Oh, yes, ma’am. That’s exactly what we’re going to do.” Again, he could not contain his amusement.

      He turned his attention to the business at hand. He kept as far away from the chimney opening as he could, yet still be in a position to see what he was doing. It was not an ideal situation, but he was willing to give it a try. He shoved the pole as far up into the chimney as he could, finally making contact with whatever had the opening blocked. He jabbed at it. Bits of dried twigs and leaves began to drift down, then suddenly everything gave way.

      The accumulated debris broke loose and crashed down the flue into the interior of the fireplace. Jessica jumped to her feet, dropping the flashlight as she tried to keep the flying dust out of her eyes. Dylan choked back a cough as he escaped the cloud of soot and ashes that billowed across the hearth.

      They dashed out to the front porch to escape the choking air inside the cabin. Jessica ruffled her fingers through her hair to dislodge some leaves, then brushed her hands across her forehead and cheeks to wipe away the dust. “What a mess.”

      “I think we got the blockage cleared out.” Dylan picked the bits of twigs from his clothes. “Do you have a vacuum cleaner? That powdery, fine, fireplace ash is going to be hard to get with a broom.”

      “Yes, but there’s no—”

      “No electricity!” Dylan finished her sentence.

      Each broke out into a spontaneous laugh at the totally ludicrous

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