Fortune's Secret Daughter. Barbara McCauley
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It was the oddest thing for him to say, Holly thought, and yet she did feel as if she knew him. She didn’t know why she felt that way, but from the moment she’d dragged him out of that plane, there’d been something between them she couldn’t explain. Some strange connection. Two days of watching over him, worrying that he was all right had only intensified that connection.
But trust him? She’d learned at a young age how blind trust could destroy lives and break hearts. Trust was precious to her, sacred, and she wasn’t ready to give it to this man so quickly or so easily.
The texture of his hand was rough against her own, his skin deeply tanned. His wet, black hair was slicked back from his freshly shaved face, a face shaped from rugged angles and sharp lines, a nose bent across the bridge, brows dark and foreboding, a sensuous mouth and square jaw. Intense pale gray eyes, wolf eyes, that made her breath catch every time she looked into them. He smelled like soap and shampoo and man.
She wasn’t certain exactly how or when the air in her kitchen had grown so thick, or why she was having such difficulty remembering the reason she’d come up here in the first place—especially since she had so much work to do downstairs in her general store. And she wasn’t certain at all why she was standing here, letting this man hold her hand and draw her close as if they were lovers instead of just simple acquaintances.
She watched Guy’s thumb draw lazy circles over her knuckles, felt the heat curl up her arm, and knew there was nothing simple at all between them. It was as complex as it was dark and erotic. Seductive.
Confusing.
She didn’t want this. These feelings, this complication. There was chemistry between them, she’d be lying to herself if she denied that. It was stronger than anything she’d ever experienced before. But Guy Blackwolf was just passing through. It was fine to flirt a little, but that was all. At a very basic level, she knew that anything more would be very risky. And while she might take risks with her business, her money or even her life, she did not take risks with her heart. The price was too great.
“So.” She pulled her hand away and stood, was annoyed with the fact that her knees were weak. “You ready for some food?”
He grinned at her. “I thought you’d never ask.”
“I have to warn you, though—” she opened the pantry beside her refrigerator and busied herself by moving the six cans in there from one side to the other “—I don’t cook. Chicken Noodle or Beef with Stars?”
“You don’t cook? And here I thought I’d found the perfect woman.” He sighed mournfully. “Ah, well. Beef with Stars is fine.”
Rolling her eyes, she pulled a saucepan from a bottom cupboard, then reached for a can opener in the drawer. “Quincy brought over your bag from your plane. Now that you’re on your feet, I’m sure there are some things in there you can use.”
“Thanks.”
“He parked your plane in the lot behind his shop,” she said and hooked the opener onto the can. “In a day or two, when you’re steady on your feet, I can take you over so you can assess the damage. Quincy said the tail section was hit pretty bad, but you can—”
At the touch of his hand on her arm, the opener slipped off the can. She’d been so busy rambling on, she hadn’t even heard him come up behind her.
“I can manage from here.” He took the opener from her. “I’m sure you’ve got a lot of other things to do besides taking care of me.”
She did, but with him standing so close in her small kitchen, she couldn’t think of what even one of those things were. She watched him open the can and dump the soup into the pan she’d set on the stove, then turn on the flame underneath.
“Bowls are in the cupboard to your right,” she said. “Silverware in the drawer to your left. There might even be some cookies in the pantry.”
“Okay.”
“Well, I’ve got to get back to work.” She started to back away and stumbled over a chair. He reached out a hand to steady her and once again it was difficult to think clearly.
“Ah, television reception is decent, but I only get a couple of channels. If your head starts to bother you, there’s aspirin in the bathroom cabinet, or if you need a—”
“Holly, I’m fine. Go.”
“Right.” She headed for the door, paused. “Oh, I think there are cookies in the pantry, too.”
He smiled. “You mentioned that. Thanks.”
Darn it. She’d been around plenty of handsome, virile men and they never made her blush or stumble over her own feet or repeat herself. Guy Blackwolf was really starting to annoy her.
“Holly?”
Her hand was on the knob when she glanced over her shoulder and saw him watching her with those wolf eyes of his.
“I think you should sleep in the bedroom tonight.”
Her pulse quickened as she stared at him. Had she been so transparent in her attraction to him that he assumed she would just jump into bed with him? Narrowing her gaze, she said coolly, “Look, Blackwolf, just because you’re sort of a good-looking guy with a decent enough body doesn’t mean that every woman is just waiting around for an invitation to sleep with you. Thanks, but no thanks.”
His brow rose. “I was just offering to take the sofa tonight,” he said with a grin. “But thanks anyway for the sort-of-almost compliment. I think.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Darn it, darn it. She’d done it again. Made a complete fool out of herself. “I just thought that you—I mean, I assumed that… Oh, never mind.”
Quickly, before he could see the blush that was working its way up her neck, she hurried out the door, not quite certain if she was relieved or disappointed.
“What do you mean, you’re leaving! You can’t leave me, not now. Do I mean nothing to you?”
“You’re everything to me. That’s why I must leave. Don’t you see?”
A bag of chocolate chip cookies in one hand, the remote in his other, Guy sat on the sofa and watched the only channel where he’d been able to find a semi-clear reception. After Holly had left earlier, he’d had a dizzy spell and been forced to lay low for a while. He’d tried to read, but the words had blurred, so he’d been left with the company of the TV.
From what he’d been able to figure out so far, the soap opera, Storm’s Cove, took place in a small Seattle seaside community that was spilling over with sex and scandal. Guy had lived in Seattle for five years and was amazed that such lust and treachery existed right under his nose.
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