Danger Becomes You
Danger Becomes You
Annette Broadrick
RUNNING FROM HIS PASTDelta Force agent Jase Crenshaw knew no one would be looking for him in the remote cabin. The solitude suited him fine. No prying family, no concerned colleagues…and no one to point a deserving finger of blame. His physical wounds would heal. His soul was another story.RUNNING FOR HER LIFEThough the waiflike creature on his doorstep was clearly in trouble, Jase vowed to offer only shelter from the storm. Leslie O'Brien's innocence and tenderness were more than he deserved. But their unexpected encounter could save them both….
“Are You Afraid Of Me?” Jase Asked.
“Not at all,” Leslie replied.
“I would never take advantage of you,” he said softly. “Please believe me.”
She turned and looked at his shadowy figure. “I do.”
“Leslie?” There was a long pause. “Never mind.”
She walked over to him and knelt beside his bed. “Tell me, Jason.”
He sighed. “I was thinking we could stay warmer if we shared a bed. I told you it was stupid. Good night,” he said abruptly.
“Jason? Do you want me to sleep with you?”
Dear Reader,
Sit back, relax and indulge yourself with all the fabulous offerings from Silhouette Desire this October. Roxanne St. Claire is penning the latest DYNASTIES: THE ASHTONS with The Highest Bidder. Youngest Ashton sibling, Paige, finds herself participating in a bachelorette auction and being “won” by a sexy stranger. Strangers also make great protectors, as demonstrated by Annette Broadrick in Danger Becomes You, her most recent CRENSHAWS OF TEXAS title.
Speaking of protectors, Michelle Celmer’s heroine in Round-the-Clock Temptation gets a bodyguard of her very own: a member of the TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB. Linda Conrad wraps up her miniseries THE GYPSY INHERITANCE with A Scandalous Melody. Will this mysterious music box bring together two lonely hearts? For something a little darker, why not try Secret Nights at Nine Oaks by Amy J. Fetzer? A handsome recluse, an antebellum mansion—two great reasons to stay indoors. And be sure to catch Heidi Betts’s When the Lights Go Down, the story of a plain-Jane librarian out to make some serious changes in her humdrum love life.
As you can see, Silhouette Desire has lots of great stories for you to enjoy. So spend this first month of autumn cuddled up with a good book—and come back next month for even more fabulous reads.
Enjoy!
Melissa Jeglinski
Senior Editor
Silhouette Desire
Danger Becomes You
Annette Broadrick
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ANNETTE BROADRICK
believes in romance and the magic of life. Since 1984, Annette has shared her view of life and love with readers. In addition to being nominated by Romantic Times magazine as one of the Best New Authors of that year, she has also won the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best in its Series; the Romantic Times WISH Award; and the Romantic Times magazine Lifetime Achievement Awards for Series Romance and Series Romantic Fantasy.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
One
A slight sound outside the cabin brought Jason Crenshaw awake and on full alert. He must have fallen asleep while reading. Someone was outside despite the ferocity of the winter snowstorm that would keep any sensible person inside.
Could it be someone looking for him? He couldn’t imagine who it could be. Only his commanding officer knew that he was using a friend’s hunting cabin in Michigan to recuperate from his wounds.
Jase eased his way out of the chair and picked up his cane. He palmed his military-issue pistol out of habit and silently moved to the window.
He couldn’t see the small porch and its overhang from this angle but he had a clear view of the driveway that led to the road. There were no tracks. Although the snow was blowing heavily, there was no way it could have covered tracks that quickly.
His years in Delta Force made him wary and alert to everything around him and he instinctively knew that what he’d heard, despite the loud fury of the storm, was someone stepping onto the single wooden step to the porch. Who was it and how did they get here?
He didn’t like surprises and he especially didn’t like unexpected guests.
A firm knock sounded and he edged to the locked door.
“Who’s there?” he demanded. His voice sounded rusty from disuse.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” a woman’s shaking voice replied. “My car slid off the road and I’m stuck in a ditch. May I use your phone to call for help?”
He didn’t like her story. The road that passed his house wasn’t one of the main highways in the state. In fact, it ended at the lake about fifteen miles from here. What was she doing on this secondary road in the first place?
When he didn’t answer, she spoke again. “Hello? I know I’m a bother, I just—”
He unlocked the door and opened it just enough to see the snow-encrusted figure in front of him. She wore a lightweight coat with a hood. The coat stopped at her thighs, revealing jeans and winter boots. Her eyes were the golden color of aged whiskey and her face looked pale as death.
The word he muttered was unprintable. Just what he needed: a damsel in distress when he wasn’t in any shape or mood to play a blasted gallant knight.
He swung the door wide, the pistol at his side. “Get in so I can close the door.”
She hurriedly stepped inside. After he slammed the door shut and locked it, he turned and caught the woman looking at him in abject terror, her gaze frozen on the pistol in his hand. What did she think he was going to do, shoot anyone who showed up at his door?
Without commenting on her obvious fear, he moved to the table and laid the pistol down.
He turned and stared at her still huddled by the door.
She looked frozen.
Not his problem.
She was shaking.
Not his problem.
The snow she’d brought in was melting off her clothes and dripping onto the floor.
Now that was his problem.
“Look, lady. I have no intention of shooting you, so get that coat off before I have to wipe water off the floor.”
“Oh!” She looked down and saw the puddle around her feet. She quickly slipped off her coat and looked around for a place to put it.
The electricity had gone off a couple of hours ago and the large rectangular room was in shadows except for the kerosene lantern on the table by the chair in which he’d been reading.
“There’s a coatrack by the door,” he said gruffly.
He watched her remove her gloves and hang up her coat before she wiped down her jeans with her hands. When she turned to look around the cabin, her face telegraphed her trepidation.
Jase knew what she saw. The cabin was one room that ended in an L-shaped alcove where the kitchen was located. Besides the table and chairs, there was a couch that had seen better days, a recliner that once had been over-stuffed but now looked weary and two sets of bunk beds at the other end of the room, placed in opposite corners.
A potbellied stove vented through the roof sat in the middle of the room, radiating the only heat he had. The only other amenity was a small bathroom off the kitchen. He kept the door closed to conserve heat.
When she removed her hat he saw that she had short, feathery blond curls sticking up in tufts around her face. She was tall, slender and looked like a teenager.
Her eyes bespoke an innocence that he found unusual since she had a soft, full mouth that begged to be kissed.
Not that her looks meant anything to him, regardless of the fact he’d not seen a woman since he left the hospital. He knew he was no fit companion for anyone, most especially an innocent teenage girl.
He watched her pick up an old towel hanging near the door and hastily clean up the puddle of water. He refused to do more than glance at the way her jeans cupped her butt and clung to her long, shapely legs when she bent over.
Jase looked away, irritated by his awareness of her. He set his cane aside, wincing at the protesting places where bullets had been removed from his shoulder, side and thigh, and sat in the captain’s chair he’d been occupying before she arrived.
The pain brought him back to the present, reminding him why he had chosen to be alone through his recuperation. He’d retreated as far from his life as he could get. Not even his family knew where he was, which was exactly what he wanted.
When she straightened, he scowled at her. He didn’t want her here, but even he wasn’t cold-blooded enough to deny her some warmth and safety.
She attempted a smile that disappeared when he didn’t respond. “If I could use your phone and call for road assistance, I’ll be on my way.” She twisted her fingers as though attempting to braid them.
He stared at her in silence. She had a soft drawl that spoke of the South, which might explain her clothing, which was unsuitable for a northern winter, and her clueless attitude about traveling during a storm.
“You may not have noticed that we’re in the midst of a winter snowstorm. You aren’t going to find anyone willing to risk life and limb to pull your car out of a snowbank until the storm passes.”
She did her best to hide her panic, but he could see it in her eyes.
She turned away and reached for her coat.
“What are you doing now?” he demanded.
She looked over her shoulder. “I’ll go back to my car until the storm passes.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “Good thinking, Ms. Alabama,” he drawled. “By all means, return to your car where you can freeze to death while waiting for the storm to blow over. It could last for days.”
She turned slowly around to face him, her chin lifted. “My name is Leslie O’Brien and I’m from Tennessee, not Alabama. As for freezing, I’ll do what I can to stay warm since that seems to be my only option at the moment.”
Fine. Let her go. You don’t want her here, so let her freeze.
Instead of voicing his thoughts Jase said, “Don’t compound your foolishness with idiocy. You’ll stay here until someone can get out here to help you.” He nodded to his cane. “I’m afraid I can’t help. I’m still learning to walk without falling.”
Leslie folded her arms, her gaze glacial. “What, exactly, do you see as my foolishness?” she asked, ignoring his last remark.
“Being out in this kind of weather in the first place. Have you ever driven in snow before?”
Her mouth tightened. “As a matter of fact, I haven’t. When I left the motel at dawn I didn’t expect to run into a snowstorm. By the time the snowflakes began to fall, I was only thirty miles from my destination. I didn’t expect the flakes to turn into a storm so quickly or that the road would be so slippery.”
He shook his head wearily. “The fact remains that you’re here for the duration. You might as well accept it.”
His last comment was aimed at both of them.
He nodded to the coffeepot sitting on the woodstove. “As you can see, the electricity is out, which isn’t unusual during a storm. There’s coffee if you want some.”
She nodded her head jerkily and walked over to the stove, holding her hands out for warmth. He grabbed his cane and went over to the galley-like kitchen to fetch another cup. As he returned to his captain’s chair, he handed it to her.
She poured herself some coffee and, with something less than enthusiasm, approached the table, placing her cup at the opposite end from where he sat.
Instead of taking a seat she glanced around the room. “May I use your restroom?”
He nodded toward the door. “In there.”
She hurried through the kitchen, opened the bathroom door and went inside, closing the door quietly behind her.
What in hell was he going to do with this woman? He couldn’t send her back out into the storm to freeze to death. But he didn’t want her here. The cabin hadn’t been built for privacy. It served its purpose for the hunters who stayed for a few days at a time.
He was alone because that’s the way he wanted it. He wanted to get back to normal before he faced the outside world. He needed a private place to wrestle with his demons.
Leslie leaned against the bathroom door and shivered. There was no heat in here. She wondered if the water was frozen. She hurriedly used the facilities and washed her hands with icy cold water. At least she was out of the wind.
What was she going to do?
She’d been running for three days, paying cash for gas, motels and food so she wouldn’t be traced, but she felt far from safe. She’d counted on reaching the place her cousin owned, knowing she’d be safe because no one would think to look for her there. She needed a place to stay while she tried to figure out what to do next.
Her cousin Larry owned a two-story log cabin that his family used as a vacation spot. It was somewhere along this road, near the edge of one of the lakes in the region. She and her mother had visited with them for two weeks over several summers in years past, but everything had looked so different now, especially with the snow obscuring her vision.
She had no idea how close she was to his place. Before she’d slid into the ditch Leslie had begun to worry that she might miss the entrance to the long, private driveway that ended at the cabin.
The skies had been gray and a strong, cold wind had been blowing when she’d left the motel this morning. She’d had no idea that it was expected to snow.
The man in the other room was right: she hadn’t understood what the signs meant or she might not have left the motel. However, once the snow began to fall she was only about thirty miles from Larry’s place so she’d decided to keep going.
She’d panicked when the snowflakes quickly turned into thick sheets of white. She hadn’t been able to see the road and had slowed to a crawl, peering through the windshield that the wiper blades couldn’t clear fast enough.
Of course she wouldn’t have deliberately driven out into a storm if she’d known one was coming. Regardless of what her curmudgeon host thought, she wasn’t a complete fool.
Not that any of that mattered now. There was no way she could rewind her day to make a more informed decision, which placed her in an extremely awkward situation. She was faced with the very real possibility of freezing if she went back to her car. If she stayed, she would have to deal with the crabby stranger in the other room, which put her between a rock and a hard place.
Her luck was running out fast at a time when she desperately needed it. Of all the places where she might have gotten stuck, she’d managed to find one with a hermit who hated people. Or maybe he just hated women. Whatever it was, his total lack of enthusiasm in allowing her to stay had been obvious.
She couldn’t tell how old he was. Possibly in his late thirties. He was tall with a lean build. She had no idea what was wrong with his leg. All she knew was that he didn’t put much weight on it.
He appeared to have only a nodding acquaintance with a razor and a good haircut would go a long way to improve his appearance.
What she found most disconcerting about him were his eyes. They were almost a silvery blue that intensified his penetrating stare. They made clear that he’d sized her up and found her to be an inferior human being.
Leslie had been staring unseeing into the mirror until her reflection caught her eye. The dark circles under her eyes had circles. She looked like a raccoon. Outside of that, she was as pale as the snow outside.
She fished a comb out of her purse and ran it through her short hair. She’d cut it her first night on the run in an attempt to change her appearance. She’d never been the type of woman people noticed and she sincerely hoped she could pretend to be someone else if her situation grew dire.
Leslie shivered. She was going to get frostbite if she stayed in the bathroom for much longer. She stiffened her spine and opened the door, determined to be pleasant no matter how rude her reluctant host chose to be.
He hadn’t moved from the chair he’d been in and seemed to be enthralled with the thick book in front of him.
She sat down and quietly sipped her coffee. She was glad she’d allowed it to cool a little. It was almost too hot to drink, even now. She waited for him to look up, to speak, to do something other than ignore her presence.
She finally gave up on that. “It would be helpful if I knew your name,” she said, attempting to hide her irritation.
“Jason,” he said without glancing at her.
Great. Jason with no last name. The pistol lay on the table beside his chair. Was he a criminal? Or maybe paranoid. Or a paranoid criminal.
She jumped when he raised his head and said, “If you’re hungry, Miz Scarlett, there’s a pot of stew in the kitchen on the back burner of the stove. Help yourself.” He returned to his book, obviously feeling that his duties as a host were done.
As a matter of fact, she was starved; she hadn’t stopped for more than gasoline since leaving the motel. She’d been eating junk food all day, which could be partially to blame for her shakes.
The rest was stark fear.
She walked into the kitchen area and lifted the lid of a large pot. The aroma almost made her groan with yearning. After opening two cabinet doors, she found an earthenware bowl and filled it with the savory stew.
“Would you like some?” she asked.
After a moment he replied, “Yeah. Thanks.”
Now there was a grudging thanks if she’d ever heard one, but at least he’d put himself out to show a modicum of politeness. She filled another bowl and carried both of them to the table, placing his in front of him.
He closed the book and she handed him one of the spoons she’d stuck in her pocket. He immediately began to eat.
“When do you think the storm will be over?” she finally asked.
He took his time lifting his gaze to look at her. He shook his head and shrugged. “Sorry. No crystal ball.” He went back to eating.
“Does the snow melt once it stops?”
He sighed. “Eventually. Probably by March.”
“March! But that’s two months from now!”
He looked at her without expression. “Somebody should have told you that winter in Michigan isn’t the best place to vacation unless you enjoy winter sports.”
Suddenly her appetite was gone.
At this rate, the snow would be piled so high she wouldn’t be able to find the driveway to Larry’s place after she got her car on the road again.
She sat listening to the sounds around her. She heard the pop and sizzle of wood in the stove, a tree branch brushing against the side of the cabin, the wind howling like a ghost in a horror movie. The smell of stew and coffee gave the cabin a pleasant aroma and the lamp on the table gave out a golden glow.
She studied the walls, where some kind of heavy caulking sealed any gaps between the large logs, and looked up at the slanted roof supported by thick lumber. Too bad the place didn’t have a ceiling, as well, to trap the warm air that moved upward.
When Jason spoke, breaking the silence, she jumped in surprise.
“How did you find this place, anyway? I didn’t see any tracks.”
“I, uh, happened to see the smoke from your chimney while I was trying to figure a way to get the car out of the ditch. During a break in the wind I was looking to see a house or a light when I spotted the smoke. I began to walk in as straight a line as possible through the trees where there wasn’t as much snow. I’ll admit I was getting a little nervous until I finally spotted the cabin.”
“Ah.”
Leslie gathered their bowls after they’d finished eating and washed the dishes. She refilled their cups of coffee and, rather than sit at the table, wandered over to a nearby window to look out. Although her watch showed that the time was a little after three, light was fading fast.
If anything, the wind had picked up in intensity since she’d gotten here. She had no idea how far away her car was. She’d been darn lucky to find the cabin. She shivered, her arms hugging her waist.
Finally, Leslie turned away from the window. She glanced at Jason and discovered him watching her.
“I’m going to have to stay here overnight,” she finally said, more as a statement than a question.
“Looks like it, yeah.”
She grasped her elbows tightly. “I don’t have any clothes here.”
“Not surprising. You wanted to use the phone, not move in.”
She almost smiled. He had a succinct way of pointing out the obvious. Maybe the tension she’d been under for the past three days was warping her mind, but she didn’t find him quite as intimidating as she had when she’d first met him. Just rude.
Of course, he could shoot her at any time, but somehow she didn’t believe he would. She had a hunch he used his pistol for protection, not aggression. Leslie wondered if he needed protection from anyone in particular.
The thought was far from reassuring.
She looked down at what she was wearing and sighed.
He stood and made his way to the other end of the cabin. Over his shoulder he said, “I’ll see what I have that you can sleep in.”
She trailed after him and watched as he opened a large chest, pulled out some sweats, some sheets, pillowcases and blankets. “There are pillows on the bed,” he said, nodding to the unmade bunks across from him.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the proffered items. She quickly made up the lower bunk before she shook out the sweatshirt and pants. Even though she was tall, these would swallow her, but it couldn’t be helped.
She turned and looked at him. “I hope you don’t mind, but I was wondering if there was something to hang between us for a little privacy.”
He looked at her as though she’d lost her mind. She didn’t care what he thought. She folded her arms and refused to drop her gaze.
“I doubt that a blanket would give you privacy, unless you want to drape one from the top bunk. If that’s what you want, be my guest.”
He turned away and carefully retraced his steps to the other end. Just the little exertion had his leg throbbing. He went into the bathroom, closed the door and turned on the shower. He generally used a heating pad to relax the muscles in his thigh but with no electricity, the hot water was his only option. He was grateful that both the hot water heater and the kitchen stove ran on propane. He’d lucked out, getting to use this place. It had all the comforts of home. Except for the electricity going out periodically, he’d done fine here. Even had a stacked, apartment-size washer and dryer, as well as fully functional refrigerator and stove, and a pantry that he had heavily stocked so he wouldn’t have to leave the place.
In addition, he had the room necessary for him to go through the excruciating physical therapy that would guarantee him the full use of his leg eventually.
By the time he finished his shower and redressed, Jase felt marginally better. He opened the door and stepped into the warm room, thankful to have enough wood chopped and stacked to keep the place heated until spring, with or without electricity. By then, he’d be rejoining his unit.
The thought was far from comforting. He still had nightmares from the attack, still felt tremendous guilt that he’d led his squad into an ambush, still fought the wish that he’d died along with the two that hadn’t made it.
Leslie had rigged up two blankets, one on the side facing his bed, the other at the end of the bed. Since the bed sat in the corner of the cabin, the other two sides were protected from his leering view.
“Feel safer now?”
She turned to look at him. “Yes, thank you,” she replied politely, her chin slightly raised. That chin of hers was a clear indication that she didn’t intend to back down from him.
Despite himself, he was impressed. Not too many women he’d known would be handling the present situation without resorting to tears. He thought of his mother and smiled. And his oldest brother Jake’s wife, Ashley. Now there were two women who stood up to whatever or whoever gave them grief, taking names and kicking butt.
He didn’t know his other two sisters-in-law well enough to put them in the same category, but he had a strong hunch that any woman who would take on Jared and Jude would have to know how to stand her ground.
He went over to his chair and sat down. He’d been reading a biography of General Patton for the past few days. He found the man and his life to be fascinating. The bio had kept his mind off of his present circumstances. For a while, at least.
He needed to come to terms with his military career. He could ask for a discharge, but if he did, what would he do after that? He’d considered himself career military until that last recon mission. Despite the fact he’d been told by his superior officers several times in the hospital that there was nothing he could have done to save the two men’s lives and that the rest of the squad, despite their wounds, survived because of his quick thinking, he had trouble accepting their reassurances. He shouldn’t have lost a single man and he knew it.
“If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll turn in. I was up rather early this morning.” He looked up and saw that Leslie had changed into the sweats he’d given her. She had the pants doubled at the waist and they still puddled around her stockinged feet.
The sweatshirt was a little better. At least it should keep her warm.
Her determined politeness amused him for some reason. Gravely, he nodded his head. “I’ll do my best not to make too much noise so as not to disturb you,” he replied, equally politely. Since the only noise when they weren’t talking was the sound of the wind howling and the occasional pop and sizzle of the wood inside the stove, he expected to get a smile out of her.
Instead she nodded soberly and returned to the other end of the room. He watched as she lifted a flap of the blanket and got into the bed, the blanket falling back into place and effectively concealing her.
He shook his head. You’d think the fact that he could barely get around would have convinced her she had no worries where he was concerned.
He wasn’t certain whether to be flattered or insulted.
Two
“Take cover! Take cover! Ambush! Thompson’s hit. We’ve got to reach him! Noooooooooo!”
Leslie sat straight up in bed, almost hitting her head on the bunk above. What was going on? Who was shouting?
She pulled the blanket back and saw that Jason must be dreaming. She could barely see that he lay on his bed without covers, wearing nothing but his underwear. He moaned and muttered something she couldn’t quite decipher.
Slowly, Leslie released the blanket and lay down once again. What had happened to this man? Was he in the military? She turned over and faced the wall, pulling the covers up to her neck.
The room had cooled off considerably since she’d gone to bed and yet Jason lay bare. Maybe it was just as well that the room was so dark because she had seen more than she should have. The blanket around her bunk was to give him a little privacy, as well.
Leslie shivered. Wondering about the stranger whose cabin she was in kept her from worrying about her own situation. She didn’t dare call Teri to see if those men had returned looking for her. With their access to law enforcement data, it was possible they had already discovered that she had rented a car.
Would they look for any relatives she might visit? If so, it was possible she may have endangered Larry and his family. Those men could already be in Michigan, looking for her.
The thought terrified her.
Eventually, Leslie drifted off to sleep. When she opened her eyes again a faint light in the room testified that morning had arrived. She pulled her arm out of the cover. The air was cold, although she could hear the crackling of the fire in the stove.
She sat up and pushed the blanket aside, surprised to see Jason on the floor near the stove, exercising. From his muttered curses, the movements must be painful and yet he continued to work his leg and, after several minutes, his arm and shoulders.
Leslie suddenly realized she was watching him once again without his knowledge and quickly dropped the blanket. The light from the kerosene lamp on the table had gilded his body, emphasizing the ridge of muscles running down his torso.
She waited until she heard the bathroom door close before she peeked out to make certain he was no longer in the main part of the cabin. When she knew she was alone, she hurriedly changed into her own clothes and folded the ones she’d borrowed and placed them on the pillow.
After warming her hands at the stove, she wandered into the kitchen nook and looked around. She was amazed at all the provisions. He didn’t have much in the refrigerator but there was plenty of food for her to prepare for breakfast.
She quickly made a batch of biscuits, found some packages of dried fruit and nuts as well as oatmeal. While the biscuits cooked, she made oatmeal, adding dried apricots and chopped walnuts.
The table was set and coffee poured when Jason came out of the bathroom. He’d showered and shaved and she found the transformation remarkable, given the way he’d looked when she first arrived. He was younger than she’d guessed.
Once again he wore jeans and today had on a bulky sweater that must have been bought for him by a loved one because it matched the unusual color of his eyes.
He stopped abruptly when he saw the table. She ducked back into the alcove and grabbed the biscuits, quickly placing them on the table before returning to the kitchen.
“What—? You didn’t have to—” He stopped when she returned with the oatmeal.
She smiled at him. “I hope you don’t mind that I made breakfast.”
“Mind?” he said slowly. He absently pulled her chair out for her before he sat. Ah, so he’d been taught manners at some time in his life—sometime before becoming a hermit. “Thank you,” he said.
Neither one said anything during the meal. She replenished his oatmeal, finishing up what she’d made. When she set it in front of him, he looked up at her. “Where did you get the idea of putting stuff in the oatmeal?”
Since he’d wolfed down the first bowl, she didn’t think he was criticizing her. She ate one of the biscuits while he finished off the rest of them. After sipping her coffee, Leslie replied, “That was one of my mother’s ideas. I used to hate oatmeal so she started experimenting with different ingredients to coax me into eating it.”
“Hmm. Where does your mother live?”
What had happened to the curmudgeon of the day before? The lines on his face were still there, especially around his mouth, but at least he was civilly attempting to make conversation.
“She lived in Alabama until she died last spring.”
“I’m sorry to hear it. I bet you were raised in Alabama, weren’t you?”
She frowned. “Yes. Why?”
He nodded. “Because your speech patterns sound like Alabama.”
She tilted her head slightly. “And you know that because…?”
“One of the men in my squad was—” He stopped, shook his head and drank some coffee. The scowl on his face from yesterday returned.
She waited, but he said no more.
His squad. Military. Something bad had obviously happened that he didn’t want to discuss. She could understand. She certainly had no intention of telling him why she’d left Tennessee in such a hurry.
She searched for another topic of conversation. Finally she said, “Are your parents still alive?”
He nodded and stood. He cleared the dishes from his side and carried them to the kitchen. She shrugged and finished clearing the table. When she went around the corner she saw that he was filling the sink with soapy water.
“I can do that,” she said, adding the dishes she’d carried to the stack beside the sink.
“That’s okay,” he said without looking up. “Thanks for breakfast, by the way.”
A clear dismissal.
She turned away with an inaudible sigh and went over to the stove, which was really radiating heat now. After holding her hands out to the warmth for a few minutes, she walked over to the window and looked out.
It was still snowing. Surprise, surprise. Maybe Jason hadn’t been kidding about having snow until March. Surely the wind would let up soon. She watched the blowing snow for a while before turning away.
Now what?
She thought with longing about her belongings in the car. She’d bought several paperbacks and magazines on her way north, thinking she would need them once she reached Larry’s place.
She needed them now.
With her decision made, Leslie grabbed her gloves and put on her coat, pulling the hood forward as far as it would go. Just as she reached for the door, Jason spoke.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
The crabby curmudgeon had returned. Without turning around, she said, “To my car.”
“Why?” he asked baldly.
She counted to ten. Slowly. Still facing the door she said, “Because I need some things out of it.”
She heard his disgusted sigh. “You really love to court danger, don’t you?”
Leslie shook her head. “As a matter of fact, I don’t.” She unlocked the door, opened it, quickly stepped through and slammed it behind her.
She looked around the area in front of her. She had no idea how to get back to the car the same way she came, but the clearing between the trees for his driveway was easy enough to see. She would walk that way until she came to the road, then follow the road until she reached her car.
With her plan complete, Leslie stepped off the porch into snow up to her knees. Great. Just what she needed. However, she had no intention of returning to the cabin without something to read, since it was obvious that her reluctant host didn’t consider conversation with her necessary. She’d keep going if it killed her.
And it might.
Leslie lost track of time as she struggled to move through the snow. She had quickly learned to shuffle her way forward. Her legs were wet and clammy-cold. She clenched her teeth. She refused to go back and admit to Jason that he’d been right. So she continued forward, feeling like an inchworm.
By the time she reached the road, she was panting and she’d actually worked up a sweat, which was weird. The snow on the road wasn’t as thick as the stuff on his driveway, probably because some of it had melted before the road cooled off.
She turned and looked back. The cabin was no longer in sight, but she saw the smoke rising, which encouraged her to believe she’d find her way back as she had yesterday.
The car was covered in snow when she found it still nestled in the ditch. Her winter gloves had been no match for the storm. The wool was soaked. She jerked them off and fumbled for the car keys she’d stuck in her coat pocket.
Leslie went to the trunk and pushed snow away until she found the lock.
It was frozen.
She didn’t know whether to cry or to curse. She would not go back to the cabin without her belongings. With new determination she knelt until her mouth was close to the lock and began to blow on it. Every minute or so she’d jiggle the key before continuing to blow. She finally had to stop because she was getting light-headed and the back of her jaws ached from her efforts.
This time when she jiggled the key, there was a faint crunching sound and the key turned. She put all her muscle into prying open the trunk, feeling like a conqueror when it groaned open.
Not wasting any time, Leslie opened her suitcase, stuffed the various books and magazines scattered in the trunk into the bag, and pulled it out of the car.
She closed the trunk, grabbed her keys and looked around. She could either struggle back up the lane to Jason’s house or she could cut through the trees, where the snow wasn’t nearly as deep. There was no question which way she’d choose.
The way through the trees seemed much longer today than it had the day before, but then, she hadn’t been dragging a suitcase the size of a pup tent at the time. Her mother had always told her she was too stubborn for her own good.
“You got that right, Mom,” she said out loud. Maybe her mother had been there to help get the trunk open, knowing that Leslie wouldn’t give up until it was open or she’d succumbed to the cold. She grinned at the thought.
She and her mom had always been close. Her mother had been pregnant with her when her dad had been killed during a police action in the military twenty-six years ago.
Her mother had never been interested in another man and Leslie had grown up convinced that for every woman there was one particular male who was the right one for her. At the ripe old age of twenty-five, she wasn’t as certain of that as she’d been at ten, though.
Her mother had made her feel very special, telling Leslie that she was so thankful she’d had her. She’d kept her husband’s photos around the house so that Leslie would know who he was. What her mother probably hadn’t considered was how much Leslie grew up despising all things military. She’d been deprived of a father; her mother deprived of a husband. And for what? Some military situation that was so minor in the general scheme of things as to have been long forgotten.
She paused and looked around her. It was darker beneath the trees but there was little underbrush to get in her way. She got a better grip on the handle of her suitcase and continued on, her thoughts going back to her childhood to a time when she wasn’t alone, wasn’t scared and wasn’t half frozen.
She’d been gone for over an hour! Jason was so blasted angry at her that if she did manage to survive her outing, he just might strangle her himself.
He’d been pacing from window to window for the past twenty minutes, propelling himself around the room with the help of his cane. He hated feeling so helpless. Despite his wounded leg, he was much better prepared to survive out in this mess, so why hadn’t he insisted on going himself?
Because he hadn’t really believed she’d be so stupid as to go out there. He figured she’d stand out on the porch for a while, realize how ill equipped she was to make it and come back inside.
He didn’t know how long he’d been reading when he realized she hadn’t returned. With a curse, he’d gotten up and made his way to the door. When he’d opened it, he warmed the air with a blistering attack on her intelligence and her stubbornness. He could follow the trail she’d made until the driveway curved out of sight. The snow helpfully showed him how many times she’d fallen and gotten up, moved a few feet and fallen again.
She deserved to freeze out there. Or so he’d been telling himself for the past hour. Now he was scared. She’d been gone much too long. Like it or not, he was going to be forced to go find her, probably in a snowbank, unconscious.
He took the time to put on his heavy winter gear. He couldn’t use the snowshoes, which further infuriated him. Instead he got his crutches out and hoped like hell he wouldn’t fall while moving through the snow.
Jason had gone about ten feet down the driveway when a movement to his left caught his eye. It was Leslie, creeping along beneath the trees and pulling a humongous suitcase by a strap. Of course the thing tipped over, not for the first time from the looks of it, because the wheels couldn’t work on this kind of terrain. Zombie-like, she stopped, righted it and crept on.
He wanted to shout all his fury at the universe for placing him in this situation. Instead he painstakingly turned and headed toward her.
She didn’t see him until he was right in front of her and when she looked up, she screamed so loud that she startled him, throwing him off balance. If the crutches hadn’t been planted so firmly, he would have toppled over backward.
“What the hell is wrong with you, woman? I came out to see if I could help!”
“You startled me,” she replied, her voice a little hoarse.
“No kidding!” He reached over and lifted the suitcase. “Get into the house.”
“But, I—”
“Go!” he thundered, causing her to jump. She stared at him and her look of terror almost undid him. He opened his mouth, closed it and finally said, “Please go into the house and get warm. I’ll get this the rest of the way.”
She nodded mutely and turned away. He watched her creep through the snow between them and the cabin, fall over, right herself and creep forward until she finally reached the porch. Only then did he hook the handle of the suitcase onto the crutch and hobbled forward.
When his nightmare finally ended and he placed the suitcase on the porch, Jase was exhausted. He’d had to rely on the damaged shoulder and it was telling him about it. His side felt as though he’d just run a 100K marathon and his thigh throbbed with each heartbeat.
His muscles were giving out on him when he finally reached the door. It opened just as he touched the handle and Leslie stared at him, wide-eyed.
“I’ll get it,” she said breathlessly, and pulled the suitcase inside. Then she turned back. “Let me help you—”
“Just get out of my way,” he mumbled, too exhausted to raise his voice.
Once inside, he closed and locked the door and leaned against it, breathing hard, his eyes closed. When he finally opened them, she was standing in front of him, wringing her hands. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have gone after me. I was okay.”
He stared at her for a long time. “Sure you were. Your lips are blue and you probably have hypothermia. Get those clothes off and get into the shower. Now.” His voice was quite soft. He didn’t know why she rushed away, dragging her suitcase.
She quickly opened it, throwing books and magazines everywhere, found some clothes and quickly went into the bathroom.
He had to get off his good leg or he wouldn’t be able to get around at all. With painful movements he peeled off his winter garb and slowly made his way to his captain’s chair near the potbellied stove.
He sat and carefully removed his boots before he leaned back in his chair.
What had happened out there? He’d been so blasted worried about her that the relief he’d felt when he’d spotted her had caught him off guard. Just because he didn’t want her here didn’t mean he wanted her to die.
Of course he’d been relieved at finding her determinedly dragging that mule train behind her, but what he’d felt at the time was much more than that.
And he didn’t like it.
Three
Leslie stood underneath the warm water. She was so cold. She hadn’t realized how cold until the water hit her skin. Although the water was barely warm, it hurt everywhere it touched her.
She stood with her eyes closed. Why had she done something so foolish? She had no answer.
She dreaded going back into the room where Jason waited. She’d never seen anyone as angry as he was. She worked for accountants who, by and large, were even-tempered people.
Her job! How could she have forgotten? She’d left without telling anyone, not even her boss. A tear trickled down her cheek. As if her whole life hadn’t been turned upside down, she’d let her boss down.
Not that she could have told him what had happened or when she might be able to come back. The fact was that she might be running for the rest of her life. She’d have to find some kind of work, though, to survive. All her savings were tied up with her employee’s benefit package. Sooner or later, she’d be forced to contact them.
Leslie finally turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Compared to outside, the bathroom now felt almost toasty warm. Well, maybe not quite, but far better than what she’d felt outside.
Remembering her recent trek reminded her that Jason waited on the other side of the door. She shivered. It was a toss-up whether she was more afraid of freezing to death or of facing Jason’s wrath.
At least she had clean clothes to put on. She’d grabbed the first things she could find. Now she understood why people wore long johns in the winter. Too bad she didn’t have any. Once she got away from here, it would be the first item on her shopping list.
Jase forced his quivering arms to hold him as he went into the kitchen alcove. This was one time when he was going to break down and take the pain medication he’d been given.
He’d been trained to ignore pain and had elected not to take the meds because they made him feel weird, as if he was floating or half awake. At the moment he welcomed the sensation if it meant getting some relief.
After he swallowed them, Jase made more coffee, giving a silent plea for the electricity to return. He’d bought a top-of-the-line machine that could be programmed to make coffee. At the moment, his shaking hands spilled as much coffee as he managed to put into the campfire pot he’d found when he moved in. The old drip pot was better than nothing and he needed something hot. As did Leslie.
She’d turned off the shower several minutes ago but after that he’d heard nothing. He supposed he would hear some noise if she’d passed out and crashed onto the floor.
By the time the coffee was ready, the pain pills had taken the edge off and he managed to fill two cups and carry them to the table without spilling scalding coffee all over himself.
He heard the bathroom door open but he didn’t look her way. “Have some coffee. It will help you get warm.”
She didn’t reply but he was damned if he was going to beg her to look after herself. She meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. Hell, he’d only known her for less than twenty-four hours.
He sipped on his coffee, keeping his eyes on the swirling snow, until she walked to the table and sat down. He glanced up at her and quickly away. She had a little color in her cheeks now and her lips were pinker.
“Thank you for coming out to help me,” she said.
He lifted one shoulder in acknowledgment.
“You were right. I shouldn’t have gone out there until the snow stopped. It was foolish and you have every right to be angry with me.”
His head snapped up and he stared at her. “I’m not angry at you.”
“You gave a great imitation, then.”
“I was scared out of my wits, Leslie. You were gone much too long. I figured I’d find your body lying somewhere in a snowdrift.”
A corner of her mouth lifted. “I couldn’t get the trunk open. The lock had frozen.”
“Then how did you get your bag?”
“I blew on it for what seemed like forever in hopes it would thaw a little.” Before he could comment, she said, “I know. It was a stupid thing to do.”
“Not if it worked.” He settled back into his chair. Other than feeling as though he’d had several beers in quick succession, he felt fine. He glanced at her again. She looked like a baby chick with her fine hair in tufts around her face and neck. When she lifted her cup she saw him staring at her. She paused with her coffee halfway to her mouth and blinked.
She really was a cute kid. “How old are you?” he asked.
“Twenty-five.”
“Really. I figured you to be in your teens.”
“How old are you?”
“Just turned thirty.” He could tell she was surprised. Probably thought he was some old crippled geezer. “How old did you think I was?”
“I didn’t know. I’m not very good at judging people’s ages.”
“Ah.” He waited, but when she didn’t say anything more, he asked, “What do you do for a living?”
She placed her cup on the table, folded her hands around it and asked, “What difference does it make?”
“None whatsoever. Just making conversation.”
“That’s a change,” she muttered, bringing her cup to her mouth and draining it.
“I realize I haven’t been very friendly since you arrived.”
“Gee. You think?”
He shrugged. “Okay, so I’ve been rude. I apologize. So why don’t we start over?” He held out his hand. “Glad to meet you, Leslie O’Brien. I’m Jason Crenshaw from Texas, and a member of the United States Army.”
She tentatively reached out and took his hand. She was still cold, which was probably the reason electricity seemed to jump between them.
She took a deep breath and pulled her hand away. “I take it you’re on leave of some kind.”
“Medical leave. I’m considering getting out and doing something else. I have no idea what at the moment. Eventually, I’ll be going home.”
He wasn’t looking forward to that visit. His only hope was to have his leg working well enough that he need never tell them that he’d been hurt.
“To Texas?”
He paused, wondering why he was talking about this. And to a stranger, at that. Who knew? If it helped her to be more comfortable around him, then why not? In a few days she’d be on her way to wherever she was going and he’d never see her again.
“Yeah, my folks have a ranch in Central Texas. In fact, it’s been in the Crenshaw family since the 1840s.”
“Wow,” she whispered. “That’s a long time.”
He nodded. “I’m the youngest of four sons.”
“The youngest? I would have thought you were the oldest, the way you act.”
He grinned and she looked at him in amazement.
“What?” he asked.
“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile. You should do it more often.”
He shook his head ruefully. “Sorry about that. I’ve been here on my own too long, I guess. Nothing much to smile at these past few months.
“As for my brothers, they don’t give me much flak. I went into the service right out of college. I rarely go home. Before this—” he gestured at his leg, “—I was out of the country most of the time. I stay in touch with them by e-mail.”
“I bet they’re worried about you, being hurt and alone up here.”
“Nah. They don’t know where I am or that I’ve been wounded. I plan to keep it that way.” He looked around. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. Do you want some of the stew I made yesterday?” He started to push himself up.
“Please don’t get up. I’ll heat it up for us.”
He watched her walk away from him. She certainly filled out those jeans nicely. These were khaki-colored, not the ones she wore yesterday. Her legs seemed to go on forever.
He knew she could hear him around the corner so he asked, “You haven’t mentioned a husband or anyone who might be worrying about you. Is there someone you want to call on the cell phone?”
She leaned around the corner and looked at him for a long moment. “No. I’m not married and there’s nobody worrying about me.” She disappeared again.
“Oh. Too bad. You’re a fine-looking woman, Leslie O’Brien, a fine-looking woman.”
This time she came around the corner with her hands on her hips. “Have you been drinking?”
“No, ma’am.”
“You’re acting strange.”
“Prob’ly the pills.”
“What pills?”
“For pain.”
She frowned. “They must be fairly strong.”
“Who knows? I never take stuff like that.”
“But you did today.”
“Well, yeah. I was, uh, you know, uh, hurting a little more than usual.”
“I see,” she said, her frown intact.
“Why?”
She shook her head and disappeared. A few minutes later she brought them two bowls of stew, went back for two glasses of water, refilled their cups with coffee, then sat down.
“Maybe you’ll feel better once you eat.”
He picked up the spoon. “Oh, I’m feeling fine, just fine.”
She grinned and he noticed she had a dimple in her cheek. “I’m beginning to believe that.”
“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile. You have a dimple,” he pointed out.
“That’s right,” she replied, chuckling for some reason, and began to eat.
He ate in silence. When he finished she asked, “Would you like some more?”
He shook his head. “Thanks, but no.” When he tried to get up, she immediately took his dishes, along with her own, to the kitchen. With the help of one of the crutches, Jase made it to the big chair and sank down into it. He pushed the bar for the recliner and sighed with pleasure when his legs came up.
A few minutes later, Leslie came out of the kitchen area and looked surprised to see him sprawled in the chair. He waved his hand at the couch. “Here. Sit down. You need to rest.”
She eyed him for a moment, then walked over and sat. “I thought I’d read.”
“Oh. Well, I guess that’s all right, if you don’t want to talk.”
Her lips twitched. “Actually, I’d rather listen to you.”
He nodded agreeably. “Okay.”
“Tell me more about your family.”
His smile slipped. After a moment he said, “I love my family. My mom and dad are my heroes.”
“Do you get along with your brothers?”
“Of course. Once they realized I wasn’t taking anything off them, they learned to respect me. It’s hell being the youngest,” he added thoughtfully.
“I wouldn’t know. I’m an only child.”
“Too bad. Is your dad still alive?”
She shook her head. “He was killed in military action before I was born.”
“Oh, man, that’s rough.”
“It was rougher on Mom. I never knew him, but she grieved for him, even though she worked hard to hide her pain from me.” She deliberately changed the subject. “Are your brothers married or single?”
He burst out laughing. He couldn’t help himself. “Would you believe that all three of my brothers, who swore they’d never get married, got married within a couple of years of each other? The first two were married only a couple of months apart.”
“You’re the lone holdout, I take it.”
“You got that right. Besides, I’ve never had time to work on a relationship. I was determined to finish college in three years and get my commission.”
“Are you saying you don’t like women?”
“Nope. I’m saying I haven’t had any time for women. Until now.”
She stiffened. “What do you mean, now?”
He waved his hand airily. “Well, until my leg’s strong enough to hold me and I go back to my unit, I’ve got all the time in the world to do anything I want.”
“Is that why you’re hiding up here in the woods?”
Hmm. Maybe she had a point. With all the time in the world, why was he staying by himself? Oh, yeah, because he didn’t want his family to see him like this. He didn’t want them to worry about him. He didn’t want to bring his guilt and anger and frustration home to them.
“I didn’t want to see or talk to anybody. I led my squad into an ambush and two men were killed. I should have died with them.”
“Looks like you almost did.”
“I know. Guess it wasn’t in the cards for me.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I’ve asked to be reassigned. No more combat. They’ll either put me behind a desk or have me train others.”
“Sounds like a way for you to use your skills.”
After several minutes of silence, Jase murmured, “I’m tired.”
“Oh, well, why don’t you try to rest? I’ll just get one of my books and—”
“No, I don’t mean tired right now. I’ve been in the army for nine years, working in special ops. I was good at it. But I screwed up that night. I should have double-checked, hell, triple checked, the info we received to make sure what we had was accurate. I don’t want that kind of responsibility again.”
“I think you’re being a little hard on yourself.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, anyway.”
“Do you intend to let your family know what happened?”
“Not if I can help it, no. I want to be in good physical condition the next time I see them.” He closed his eyes. “I’m ashamed to face them, all right? I wanted them to be proud of me and what I’ve accomplished. I don’t want them to know that I screwed up.”
“I have a hunch they’ll be too glad you survived to care about anything else and, from what you’ve told me, I doubt they’ll believe you screwed up. I know I don’t.”
He opened his eyes. “You’re a nice person, Leslie O’Brien.”
“Yep. Nice. That’s me.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
She laughed. “Why are you so interested in my personal life?”
“Well, we talked about mine. I think. Didn’t we?”
“I date once in a while. Nothing serious.”
“Good.”
She raised her brows. “Good?”
He closed his eyes. “Yeah,” he said, drawling his words, “’cause I don’t want to be stepping on anybody’s toes.”
Four
Leslie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She stiffened in outrage at his cavalier attitude toward her. She wanted to say something cutting, something belittling, in response, something that wouldn’t betray the way his words had affected her.
He didn’t stir. She stood and looked closer at him. He lay there bonelessly sprawled in his chair. He had thick lashes she’d never noticed before, probably because his eyes had always drawn her complete attention.
Jason’s hair fell across his forehead and she wanted to push it gently back, but she restrained herself.
He made a sound and at first she thought he’d said something until she realized he was asleep and the soft noise she’d heard was his deep breathing.
She turned away and spotted her suitcase in the middle of the floor between their beds, paperbacks and magazines scattered around it. How could she have forgotten to pick those up?
She made a neat stack of them, found her warmest pair of pajamas and laid them at the foot of her bed. She also dug out socks because her feet had gotten cold the night before.
Sometime while they were talking, the light had disappeared outside. She glanced at her watch and was surprised to see that it was almost eight o’clock.
My, how time flies when your reluctant host is busy making passes at you.
What a strange day this had been. She wondered if Jason would remember talking to her and revealing so much about himself. Would he resent her for being the one who’d listened to his pain?
She glanced over her shoulder. He looked comfortable where he was. She looked around the room and saw that the stove needed more wood. There was a huge stack on the porch so she quietly put on her coat, opened the door and hauled several pieces inside.
Next, she put them in the stove as she’d watched him do, and quietly closed the small door of the efficient heat source.
He didn’t stir.
Leslie went to the table and blew out the lamp before she slipped behind the blanket around her bed. Once she’d dressed for bed, she went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth.
When she came out of the bathroom, she looked over at him. He hadn’t moved. She found an extra blanket and draped it over him, tiptoed to her bed and slipped in between the covers.
Despite her exhaustion, Leslie had trouble falling asleep. She’d never known a man like Jason. He was troubled, but who wouldn’t be, having gone through what he had.
She reminded herself that he was exactly the kind of man she’d vowed never to become involved with: a military man.
Not that his career really mattered. Once she left, she knew there would be no reason for her ever to see him again. At least she had a different opinion of him now that she’d gotten to know him a little better. Pain would explain his rude and irascible behavior.
If she were home, she’d probably be across the hall from her apartment visiting with Teri and discussing the mixed emotions this man caused her.
Teri.
She prayed that Teri was all right.
The grating sound of metal rubbing against metal woke her up and she realized the noise she heard was the old recliner as it straightened. Impulsively, Leslie slipped out of bed to check on him.
“Jason?”
The silence lengthened until he finally said, “Sorry to wake you,” in a gruff voice.
“Is there something I can do for you?”
Another pause. “No. I’m going to put more wood in the stove and go to bed.”
Because of the moonlight coming through the window, she could see him sitting in the chair, holding his head. She carefully made her way over to the sofa.
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Annette Broadrick
RUNNING FROM HIS PASTDelta Force agent Jase Crenshaw knew no one would be looking for him in the remote cabin. The solitude suited him fine. No prying family, no concerned colleagues…and no one to point a deserving finger of blame. His physical wounds would heal. His soul was another story.RUNNING FOR HER LIFEThough the waiflike creature on his doorstep was clearly in trouble, Jase vowed to offer only shelter from the storm. Leslie O'Brien's innocence and tenderness were more than he deserved. But their unexpected encounter could save them both….
“Are You Afraid Of Me?” Jase Asked.
“Not at all,” Leslie replied.
“I would never take advantage of you,” he said softly. “Please believe me.”
She turned and looked at his shadowy figure. “I do.”
“Leslie?” There was a long pause. “Never mind.”
She walked over to him and knelt beside his bed. “Tell me, Jason.”
He sighed. “I was thinking we could stay warmer if we shared a bed. I told you it was stupid. Good night,” he said abruptly.
“Jason? Do you want me to sleep with you?”
Dear Reader,
Sit back, relax and indulge yourself with all the fabulous offerings from Silhouette Desire this October. Roxanne St. Claire is penning the latest DYNASTIES: THE ASHTONS with The Highest Bidder. Youngest Ashton sibling, Paige, finds herself participating in a bachelorette auction and being “won” by a sexy stranger. Strangers also make great protectors, as demonstrated by Annette Broadrick in Danger Becomes You, her most recent CRENSHAWS OF TEXAS title.
Speaking of protectors, Michelle Celmer’s heroine in Round-the-Clock Temptation gets a bodyguard of her very own: a member of the TEXAS CATTLEMAN’S CLUB. Linda Conrad wraps up her miniseries THE GYPSY INHERITANCE with A Scandalous Melody. Will this mysterious music box bring together two lonely hearts? For something a little darker, why not try Secret Nights at Nine Oaks by Amy J. Fetzer? A handsome recluse, an antebellum mansion—two great reasons to stay indoors. And be sure to catch Heidi Betts’s When the Lights Go Down, the story of a plain-Jane librarian out to make some serious changes in her humdrum love life.
As you can see, Silhouette Desire has lots of great stories for you to enjoy. So spend this first month of autumn cuddled up with a good book—and come back next month for even more fabulous reads.
Enjoy!
Melissa Jeglinski
Senior Editor
Silhouette Desire
Danger Becomes You
Annette Broadrick
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ANNETTE BROADRICK
believes in romance and the magic of life. Since 1984, Annette has shared her view of life and love with readers. In addition to being nominated by Romantic Times magazine as one of the Best New Authors of that year, she has also won the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best in its Series; the Romantic Times WISH Award; and the Romantic Times magazine Lifetime Achievement Awards for Series Romance and Series Romantic Fantasy.
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
One
A slight sound outside the cabin brought Jason Crenshaw awake and on full alert. He must have fallen asleep while reading. Someone was outside despite the ferocity of the winter snowstorm that would keep any sensible person inside.
Could it be someone looking for him? He couldn’t imagine who it could be. Only his commanding officer knew that he was using a friend’s hunting cabin in Michigan to recuperate from his wounds.
Jase eased his way out of the chair and picked up his cane. He palmed his military-issue pistol out of habit and silently moved to the window.
He couldn’t see the small porch and its overhang from this angle but he had a clear view of the driveway that led to the road. There were no tracks. Although the snow was blowing heavily, there was no way it could have covered tracks that quickly.
His years in Delta Force made him wary and alert to everything around him and he instinctively knew that what he’d heard, despite the loud fury of the storm, was someone stepping onto the single wooden step to the porch. Who was it and how did they get here?
He didn’t like surprises and he especially didn’t like unexpected guests.
A firm knock sounded and he edged to the locked door.
“Who’s there?” he demanded. His voice sounded rusty from disuse.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” a woman’s shaking voice replied. “My car slid off the road and I’m stuck in a ditch. May I use your phone to call for help?”
He didn’t like her story. The road that passed his house wasn’t one of the main highways in the state. In fact, it ended at the lake about fifteen miles from here. What was she doing on this secondary road in the first place?
When he didn’t answer, she spoke again. “Hello? I know I’m a bother, I just—”
He unlocked the door and opened it just enough to see the snow-encrusted figure in front of him. She wore a lightweight coat with a hood. The coat stopped at her thighs, revealing jeans and winter boots. Her eyes were the golden color of aged whiskey and her face looked pale as death.
The word he muttered was unprintable. Just what he needed: a damsel in distress when he wasn’t in any shape or mood to play a blasted gallant knight.
He swung the door wide, the pistol at his side. “Get in so I can close the door.”
She hurriedly stepped inside. After he slammed the door shut and locked it, he turned and caught the woman looking at him in abject terror, her gaze frozen on the pistol in his hand. What did she think he was going to do, shoot anyone who showed up at his door?
Without commenting on her obvious fear, he moved to the table and laid the pistol down.
He turned and stared at her still huddled by the door.
She looked frozen.
Not his problem.
She was shaking.
Not his problem.
The snow she’d brought in was melting off her clothes and dripping onto the floor.
Now that was his problem.
“Look, lady. I have no intention of shooting you, so get that coat off before I have to wipe water off the floor.”
“Oh!” She looked down and saw the puddle around her feet. She quickly slipped off her coat and looked around for a place to put it.
The electricity had gone off a couple of hours ago and the large rectangular room was in shadows except for the kerosene lantern on the table by the chair in which he’d been reading.
“There’s a coatrack by the door,” he said gruffly.
He watched her remove her gloves and hang up her coat before she wiped down her jeans with her hands. When she turned to look around the cabin, her face telegraphed her trepidation.
Jase knew what she saw. The cabin was one room that ended in an L-shaped alcove where the kitchen was located. Besides the table and chairs, there was a couch that had seen better days, a recliner that once had been over-stuffed but now looked weary and two sets of bunk beds at the other end of the room, placed in opposite corners.
A potbellied stove vented through the roof sat in the middle of the room, radiating the only heat he had. The only other amenity was a small bathroom off the kitchen. He kept the door closed to conserve heat.
When she removed her hat he saw that she had short, feathery blond curls sticking up in tufts around her face. She was tall, slender and looked like a teenager.
Her eyes bespoke an innocence that he found unusual since she had a soft, full mouth that begged to be kissed.
Not that her looks meant anything to him, regardless of the fact he’d not seen a woman since he left the hospital. He knew he was no fit companion for anyone, most especially an innocent teenage girl.
He watched her pick up an old towel hanging near the door and hastily clean up the puddle of water. He refused to do more than glance at the way her jeans cupped her butt and clung to her long, shapely legs when she bent over.
Jase looked away, irritated by his awareness of her. He set his cane aside, wincing at the protesting places where bullets had been removed from his shoulder, side and thigh, and sat in the captain’s chair he’d been occupying before she arrived.
The pain brought him back to the present, reminding him why he had chosen to be alone through his recuperation. He’d retreated as far from his life as he could get. Not even his family knew where he was, which was exactly what he wanted.
When she straightened, he scowled at her. He didn’t want her here, but even he wasn’t cold-blooded enough to deny her some warmth and safety.
She attempted a smile that disappeared when he didn’t respond. “If I could use your phone and call for road assistance, I’ll be on my way.” She twisted her fingers as though attempting to braid them.
He stared at her in silence. She had a soft drawl that spoke of the South, which might explain her clothing, which was unsuitable for a northern winter, and her clueless attitude about traveling during a storm.
“You may not have noticed that we’re in the midst of a winter snowstorm. You aren’t going to find anyone willing to risk life and limb to pull your car out of a snowbank until the storm passes.”
She did her best to hide her panic, but he could see it in her eyes.
She turned away and reached for her coat.
“What are you doing now?” he demanded.
She looked over her shoulder. “I’ll go back to my car until the storm passes.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “Good thinking, Ms. Alabama,” he drawled. “By all means, return to your car where you can freeze to death while waiting for the storm to blow over. It could last for days.”
She turned slowly around to face him, her chin lifted. “My name is Leslie O’Brien and I’m from Tennessee, not Alabama. As for freezing, I’ll do what I can to stay warm since that seems to be my only option at the moment.”
Fine. Let her go. You don’t want her here, so let her freeze.
Instead of voicing his thoughts Jase said, “Don’t compound your foolishness with idiocy. You’ll stay here until someone can get out here to help you.” He nodded to his cane. “I’m afraid I can’t help. I’m still learning to walk without falling.”
Leslie folded her arms, her gaze glacial. “What, exactly, do you see as my foolishness?” she asked, ignoring his last remark.
“Being out in this kind of weather in the first place. Have you ever driven in snow before?”
Her mouth tightened. “As a matter of fact, I haven’t. When I left the motel at dawn I didn’t expect to run into a snowstorm. By the time the snowflakes began to fall, I was only thirty miles from my destination. I didn’t expect the flakes to turn into a storm so quickly or that the road would be so slippery.”
He shook his head wearily. “The fact remains that you’re here for the duration. You might as well accept it.”
His last comment was aimed at both of them.
He nodded to the coffeepot sitting on the woodstove. “As you can see, the electricity is out, which isn’t unusual during a storm. There’s coffee if you want some.”
She nodded her head jerkily and walked over to the stove, holding her hands out for warmth. He grabbed his cane and went over to the galley-like kitchen to fetch another cup. As he returned to his captain’s chair, he handed it to her.
She poured herself some coffee and, with something less than enthusiasm, approached the table, placing her cup at the opposite end from where he sat.
Instead of taking a seat she glanced around the room. “May I use your restroom?”
He nodded toward the door. “In there.”
She hurried through the kitchen, opened the bathroom door and went inside, closing the door quietly behind her.
What in hell was he going to do with this woman? He couldn’t send her back out into the storm to freeze to death. But he didn’t want her here. The cabin hadn’t been built for privacy. It served its purpose for the hunters who stayed for a few days at a time.
He was alone because that’s the way he wanted it. He wanted to get back to normal before he faced the outside world. He needed a private place to wrestle with his demons.
Leslie leaned against the bathroom door and shivered. There was no heat in here. She wondered if the water was frozen. She hurriedly used the facilities and washed her hands with icy cold water. At least she was out of the wind.
What was she going to do?
She’d been running for three days, paying cash for gas, motels and food so she wouldn’t be traced, but she felt far from safe. She’d counted on reaching the place her cousin owned, knowing she’d be safe because no one would think to look for her there. She needed a place to stay while she tried to figure out what to do next.
Her cousin Larry owned a two-story log cabin that his family used as a vacation spot. It was somewhere along this road, near the edge of one of the lakes in the region. She and her mother had visited with them for two weeks over several summers in years past, but everything had looked so different now, especially with the snow obscuring her vision.
She had no idea how close she was to his place. Before she’d slid into the ditch Leslie had begun to worry that she might miss the entrance to the long, private driveway that ended at the cabin.
The skies had been gray and a strong, cold wind had been blowing when she’d left the motel this morning. She’d had no idea that it was expected to snow.
The man in the other room was right: she hadn’t understood what the signs meant or she might not have left the motel. However, once the snow began to fall she was only about thirty miles from Larry’s place so she’d decided to keep going.
She’d panicked when the snowflakes quickly turned into thick sheets of white. She hadn’t been able to see the road and had slowed to a crawl, peering through the windshield that the wiper blades couldn’t clear fast enough.
Of course she wouldn’t have deliberately driven out into a storm if she’d known one was coming. Regardless of what her curmudgeon host thought, she wasn’t a complete fool.
Not that any of that mattered now. There was no way she could rewind her day to make a more informed decision, which placed her in an extremely awkward situation. She was faced with the very real possibility of freezing if she went back to her car. If she stayed, she would have to deal with the crabby stranger in the other room, which put her between a rock and a hard place.
Her luck was running out fast at a time when she desperately needed it. Of all the places where she might have gotten stuck, she’d managed to find one with a hermit who hated people. Or maybe he just hated women. Whatever it was, his total lack of enthusiasm in allowing her to stay had been obvious.
She couldn’t tell how old he was. Possibly in his late thirties. He was tall with a lean build. She had no idea what was wrong with his leg. All she knew was that he didn’t put much weight on it.
He appeared to have only a nodding acquaintance with a razor and a good haircut would go a long way to improve his appearance.
What she found most disconcerting about him were his eyes. They were almost a silvery blue that intensified his penetrating stare. They made clear that he’d sized her up and found her to be an inferior human being.
Leslie had been staring unseeing into the mirror until her reflection caught her eye. The dark circles under her eyes had circles. She looked like a raccoon. Outside of that, she was as pale as the snow outside.
She fished a comb out of her purse and ran it through her short hair. She’d cut it her first night on the run in an attempt to change her appearance. She’d never been the type of woman people noticed and she sincerely hoped she could pretend to be someone else if her situation grew dire.
Leslie shivered. She was going to get frostbite if she stayed in the bathroom for much longer. She stiffened her spine and opened the door, determined to be pleasant no matter how rude her reluctant host chose to be.
He hadn’t moved from the chair he’d been in and seemed to be enthralled with the thick book in front of him.
She sat down and quietly sipped her coffee. She was glad she’d allowed it to cool a little. It was almost too hot to drink, even now. She waited for him to look up, to speak, to do something other than ignore her presence.
She finally gave up on that. “It would be helpful if I knew your name,” she said, attempting to hide her irritation.
“Jason,” he said without glancing at her.
Great. Jason with no last name. The pistol lay on the table beside his chair. Was he a criminal? Or maybe paranoid. Or a paranoid criminal.
She jumped when he raised his head and said, “If you’re hungry, Miz Scarlett, there’s a pot of stew in the kitchen on the back burner of the stove. Help yourself.” He returned to his book, obviously feeling that his duties as a host were done.
As a matter of fact, she was starved; she hadn’t stopped for more than gasoline since leaving the motel. She’d been eating junk food all day, which could be partially to blame for her shakes.
The rest was stark fear.
She walked into the kitchen area and lifted the lid of a large pot. The aroma almost made her groan with yearning. After opening two cabinet doors, she found an earthenware bowl and filled it with the savory stew.
“Would you like some?” she asked.
After a moment he replied, “Yeah. Thanks.”
Now there was a grudging thanks if she’d ever heard one, but at least he’d put himself out to show a modicum of politeness. She filled another bowl and carried both of them to the table, placing his in front of him.
He closed the book and she handed him one of the spoons she’d stuck in her pocket. He immediately began to eat.
“When do you think the storm will be over?” she finally asked.
He took his time lifting his gaze to look at her. He shook his head and shrugged. “Sorry. No crystal ball.” He went back to eating.
“Does the snow melt once it stops?”
He sighed. “Eventually. Probably by March.”
“March! But that’s two months from now!”
He looked at her without expression. “Somebody should have told you that winter in Michigan isn’t the best place to vacation unless you enjoy winter sports.”
Suddenly her appetite was gone.
At this rate, the snow would be piled so high she wouldn’t be able to find the driveway to Larry’s place after she got her car on the road again.
She sat listening to the sounds around her. She heard the pop and sizzle of wood in the stove, a tree branch brushing against the side of the cabin, the wind howling like a ghost in a horror movie. The smell of stew and coffee gave the cabin a pleasant aroma and the lamp on the table gave out a golden glow.
She studied the walls, where some kind of heavy caulking sealed any gaps between the large logs, and looked up at the slanted roof supported by thick lumber. Too bad the place didn’t have a ceiling, as well, to trap the warm air that moved upward.
When Jason spoke, breaking the silence, she jumped in surprise.
“How did you find this place, anyway? I didn’t see any tracks.”
“I, uh, happened to see the smoke from your chimney while I was trying to figure a way to get the car out of the ditch. During a break in the wind I was looking to see a house or a light when I spotted the smoke. I began to walk in as straight a line as possible through the trees where there wasn’t as much snow. I’ll admit I was getting a little nervous until I finally spotted the cabin.”
“Ah.”
Leslie gathered their bowls after they’d finished eating and washed the dishes. She refilled their cups of coffee and, rather than sit at the table, wandered over to a nearby window to look out. Although her watch showed that the time was a little after three, light was fading fast.
If anything, the wind had picked up in intensity since she’d gotten here. She had no idea how far away her car was. She’d been darn lucky to find the cabin. She shivered, her arms hugging her waist.
Finally, Leslie turned away from the window. She glanced at Jason and discovered him watching her.
“I’m going to have to stay here overnight,” she finally said, more as a statement than a question.
“Looks like it, yeah.”
She grasped her elbows tightly. “I don’t have any clothes here.”
“Not surprising. You wanted to use the phone, not move in.”
She almost smiled. He had a succinct way of pointing out the obvious. Maybe the tension she’d been under for the past three days was warping her mind, but she didn’t find him quite as intimidating as she had when she’d first met him. Just rude.
Of course, he could shoot her at any time, but somehow she didn’t believe he would. She had a hunch he used his pistol for protection, not aggression. Leslie wondered if he needed protection from anyone in particular.
The thought was far from reassuring.
She looked down at what she was wearing and sighed.
He stood and made his way to the other end of the cabin. Over his shoulder he said, “I’ll see what I have that you can sleep in.”
She trailed after him and watched as he opened a large chest, pulled out some sweats, some sheets, pillowcases and blankets. “There are pillows on the bed,” he said, nodding to the unmade bunks across from him.
“Thank you,” she said, taking the proffered items. She quickly made up the lower bunk before she shook out the sweatshirt and pants. Even though she was tall, these would swallow her, but it couldn’t be helped.
She turned and looked at him. “I hope you don’t mind, but I was wondering if there was something to hang between us for a little privacy.”
He looked at her as though she’d lost her mind. She didn’t care what he thought. She folded her arms and refused to drop her gaze.
“I doubt that a blanket would give you privacy, unless you want to drape one from the top bunk. If that’s what you want, be my guest.”
He turned away and carefully retraced his steps to the other end. Just the little exertion had his leg throbbing. He went into the bathroom, closed the door and turned on the shower. He generally used a heating pad to relax the muscles in his thigh but with no electricity, the hot water was his only option. He was grateful that both the hot water heater and the kitchen stove ran on propane. He’d lucked out, getting to use this place. It had all the comforts of home. Except for the electricity going out periodically, he’d done fine here. Even had a stacked, apartment-size washer and dryer, as well as fully functional refrigerator and stove, and a pantry that he had heavily stocked so he wouldn’t have to leave the place.
In addition, he had the room necessary for him to go through the excruciating physical therapy that would guarantee him the full use of his leg eventually.
By the time he finished his shower and redressed, Jase felt marginally better. He opened the door and stepped into the warm room, thankful to have enough wood chopped and stacked to keep the place heated until spring, with or without electricity. By then, he’d be rejoining his unit.
The thought was far from comforting. He still had nightmares from the attack, still felt tremendous guilt that he’d led his squad into an ambush, still fought the wish that he’d died along with the two that hadn’t made it.
Leslie had rigged up two blankets, one on the side facing his bed, the other at the end of the bed. Since the bed sat in the corner of the cabin, the other two sides were protected from his leering view.
“Feel safer now?”
She turned to look at him. “Yes, thank you,” she replied politely, her chin slightly raised. That chin of hers was a clear indication that she didn’t intend to back down from him.
Despite himself, he was impressed. Not too many women he’d known would be handling the present situation without resorting to tears. He thought of his mother and smiled. And his oldest brother Jake’s wife, Ashley. Now there were two women who stood up to whatever or whoever gave them grief, taking names and kicking butt.
He didn’t know his other two sisters-in-law well enough to put them in the same category, but he had a strong hunch that any woman who would take on Jared and Jude would have to know how to stand her ground.
He went over to his chair and sat down. He’d been reading a biography of General Patton for the past few days. He found the man and his life to be fascinating. The bio had kept his mind off of his present circumstances. For a while, at least.
He needed to come to terms with his military career. He could ask for a discharge, but if he did, what would he do after that? He’d considered himself career military until that last recon mission. Despite the fact he’d been told by his superior officers several times in the hospital that there was nothing he could have done to save the two men’s lives and that the rest of the squad, despite their wounds, survived because of his quick thinking, he had trouble accepting their reassurances. He shouldn’t have lost a single man and he knew it.
“If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll turn in. I was up rather early this morning.” He looked up and saw that Leslie had changed into the sweats he’d given her. She had the pants doubled at the waist and they still puddled around her stockinged feet.
The sweatshirt was a little better. At least it should keep her warm.
Her determined politeness amused him for some reason. Gravely, he nodded his head. “I’ll do my best not to make too much noise so as not to disturb you,” he replied, equally politely. Since the only noise when they weren’t talking was the sound of the wind howling and the occasional pop and sizzle of the wood inside the stove, he expected to get a smile out of her.
Instead she nodded soberly and returned to the other end of the room. He watched as she lifted a flap of the blanket and got into the bed, the blanket falling back into place and effectively concealing her.
He shook his head. You’d think the fact that he could barely get around would have convinced her she had no worries where he was concerned.
He wasn’t certain whether to be flattered or insulted.
Two
“Take cover! Take cover! Ambush! Thompson’s hit. We’ve got to reach him! Noooooooooo!”
Leslie sat straight up in bed, almost hitting her head on the bunk above. What was going on? Who was shouting?
She pulled the blanket back and saw that Jason must be dreaming. She could barely see that he lay on his bed without covers, wearing nothing but his underwear. He moaned and muttered something she couldn’t quite decipher.
Slowly, Leslie released the blanket and lay down once again. What had happened to this man? Was he in the military? She turned over and faced the wall, pulling the covers up to her neck.
The room had cooled off considerably since she’d gone to bed and yet Jason lay bare. Maybe it was just as well that the room was so dark because she had seen more than she should have. The blanket around her bunk was to give him a little privacy, as well.
Leslie shivered. Wondering about the stranger whose cabin she was in kept her from worrying about her own situation. She didn’t dare call Teri to see if those men had returned looking for her. With their access to law enforcement data, it was possible they had already discovered that she had rented a car.
Would they look for any relatives she might visit? If so, it was possible she may have endangered Larry and his family. Those men could already be in Michigan, looking for her.
The thought terrified her.
Eventually, Leslie drifted off to sleep. When she opened her eyes again a faint light in the room testified that morning had arrived. She pulled her arm out of the cover. The air was cold, although she could hear the crackling of the fire in the stove.
She sat up and pushed the blanket aside, surprised to see Jason on the floor near the stove, exercising. From his muttered curses, the movements must be painful and yet he continued to work his leg and, after several minutes, his arm and shoulders.
Leslie suddenly realized she was watching him once again without his knowledge and quickly dropped the blanket. The light from the kerosene lamp on the table had gilded his body, emphasizing the ridge of muscles running down his torso.
She waited until she heard the bathroom door close before she peeked out to make certain he was no longer in the main part of the cabin. When she knew she was alone, she hurriedly changed into her own clothes and folded the ones she’d borrowed and placed them on the pillow.
After warming her hands at the stove, she wandered into the kitchen nook and looked around. She was amazed at all the provisions. He didn’t have much in the refrigerator but there was plenty of food for her to prepare for breakfast.
She quickly made a batch of biscuits, found some packages of dried fruit and nuts as well as oatmeal. While the biscuits cooked, she made oatmeal, adding dried apricots and chopped walnuts.
The table was set and coffee poured when Jason came out of the bathroom. He’d showered and shaved and she found the transformation remarkable, given the way he’d looked when she first arrived. He was younger than she’d guessed.
Once again he wore jeans and today had on a bulky sweater that must have been bought for him by a loved one because it matched the unusual color of his eyes.
He stopped abruptly when he saw the table. She ducked back into the alcove and grabbed the biscuits, quickly placing them on the table before returning to the kitchen.
“What—? You didn’t have to—” He stopped when she returned with the oatmeal.
She smiled at him. “I hope you don’t mind that I made breakfast.”
“Mind?” he said slowly. He absently pulled her chair out for her before he sat. Ah, so he’d been taught manners at some time in his life—sometime before becoming a hermit. “Thank you,” he said.
Neither one said anything during the meal. She replenished his oatmeal, finishing up what she’d made. When she set it in front of him, he looked up at her. “Where did you get the idea of putting stuff in the oatmeal?”
Since he’d wolfed down the first bowl, she didn’t think he was criticizing her. She ate one of the biscuits while he finished off the rest of them. After sipping her coffee, Leslie replied, “That was one of my mother’s ideas. I used to hate oatmeal so she started experimenting with different ingredients to coax me into eating it.”
“Hmm. Where does your mother live?”
What had happened to the curmudgeon of the day before? The lines on his face were still there, especially around his mouth, but at least he was civilly attempting to make conversation.
“She lived in Alabama until she died last spring.”
“I’m sorry to hear it. I bet you were raised in Alabama, weren’t you?”
She frowned. “Yes. Why?”
He nodded. “Because your speech patterns sound like Alabama.”
She tilted her head slightly. “And you know that because…?”
“One of the men in my squad was—” He stopped, shook his head and drank some coffee. The scowl on his face from yesterday returned.
She waited, but he said no more.
His squad. Military. Something bad had obviously happened that he didn’t want to discuss. She could understand. She certainly had no intention of telling him why she’d left Tennessee in such a hurry.
She searched for another topic of conversation. Finally she said, “Are your parents still alive?”
He nodded and stood. He cleared the dishes from his side and carried them to the kitchen. She shrugged and finished clearing the table. When she went around the corner she saw that he was filling the sink with soapy water.
“I can do that,” she said, adding the dishes she’d carried to the stack beside the sink.
“That’s okay,” he said without looking up. “Thanks for breakfast, by the way.”
A clear dismissal.
She turned away with an inaudible sigh and went over to the stove, which was really radiating heat now. After holding her hands out to the warmth for a few minutes, she walked over to the window and looked out.
It was still snowing. Surprise, surprise. Maybe Jason hadn’t been kidding about having snow until March. Surely the wind would let up soon. She watched the blowing snow for a while before turning away.
Now what?
She thought with longing about her belongings in the car. She’d bought several paperbacks and magazines on her way north, thinking she would need them once she reached Larry’s place.
She needed them now.
With her decision made, Leslie grabbed her gloves and put on her coat, pulling the hood forward as far as it would go. Just as she reached for the door, Jason spoke.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
The crabby curmudgeon had returned. Without turning around, she said, “To my car.”
“Why?” he asked baldly.
She counted to ten. Slowly. Still facing the door she said, “Because I need some things out of it.”
She heard his disgusted sigh. “You really love to court danger, don’t you?”
Leslie shook her head. “As a matter of fact, I don’t.” She unlocked the door, opened it, quickly stepped through and slammed it behind her.
She looked around the area in front of her. She had no idea how to get back to the car the same way she came, but the clearing between the trees for his driveway was easy enough to see. She would walk that way until she came to the road, then follow the road until she reached her car.
With her plan complete, Leslie stepped off the porch into snow up to her knees. Great. Just what she needed. However, she had no intention of returning to the cabin without something to read, since it was obvious that her reluctant host didn’t consider conversation with her necessary. She’d keep going if it killed her.
And it might.
Leslie lost track of time as she struggled to move through the snow. She had quickly learned to shuffle her way forward. Her legs were wet and clammy-cold. She clenched her teeth. She refused to go back and admit to Jason that he’d been right. So she continued forward, feeling like an inchworm.
By the time she reached the road, she was panting and she’d actually worked up a sweat, which was weird. The snow on the road wasn’t as thick as the stuff on his driveway, probably because some of it had melted before the road cooled off.
She turned and looked back. The cabin was no longer in sight, but she saw the smoke rising, which encouraged her to believe she’d find her way back as she had yesterday.
The car was covered in snow when she found it still nestled in the ditch. Her winter gloves had been no match for the storm. The wool was soaked. She jerked them off and fumbled for the car keys she’d stuck in her coat pocket.
Leslie went to the trunk and pushed snow away until she found the lock.
It was frozen.
She didn’t know whether to cry or to curse. She would not go back to the cabin without her belongings. With new determination she knelt until her mouth was close to the lock and began to blow on it. Every minute or so she’d jiggle the key before continuing to blow. She finally had to stop because she was getting light-headed and the back of her jaws ached from her efforts.
This time when she jiggled the key, there was a faint crunching sound and the key turned. She put all her muscle into prying open the trunk, feeling like a conqueror when it groaned open.
Not wasting any time, Leslie opened her suitcase, stuffed the various books and magazines scattered in the trunk into the bag, and pulled it out of the car.
She closed the trunk, grabbed her keys and looked around. She could either struggle back up the lane to Jason’s house or she could cut through the trees, where the snow wasn’t nearly as deep. There was no question which way she’d choose.
The way through the trees seemed much longer today than it had the day before, but then, she hadn’t been dragging a suitcase the size of a pup tent at the time. Her mother had always told her she was too stubborn for her own good.
“You got that right, Mom,” she said out loud. Maybe her mother had been there to help get the trunk open, knowing that Leslie wouldn’t give up until it was open or she’d succumbed to the cold. She grinned at the thought.
She and her mom had always been close. Her mother had been pregnant with her when her dad had been killed during a police action in the military twenty-six years ago.
Her mother had never been interested in another man and Leslie had grown up convinced that for every woman there was one particular male who was the right one for her. At the ripe old age of twenty-five, she wasn’t as certain of that as she’d been at ten, though.
Her mother had made her feel very special, telling Leslie that she was so thankful she’d had her. She’d kept her husband’s photos around the house so that Leslie would know who he was. What her mother probably hadn’t considered was how much Leslie grew up despising all things military. She’d been deprived of a father; her mother deprived of a husband. And for what? Some military situation that was so minor in the general scheme of things as to have been long forgotten.
She paused and looked around her. It was darker beneath the trees but there was little underbrush to get in her way. She got a better grip on the handle of her suitcase and continued on, her thoughts going back to her childhood to a time when she wasn’t alone, wasn’t scared and wasn’t half frozen.
She’d been gone for over an hour! Jason was so blasted angry at her that if she did manage to survive her outing, he just might strangle her himself.
He’d been pacing from window to window for the past twenty minutes, propelling himself around the room with the help of his cane. He hated feeling so helpless. Despite his wounded leg, he was much better prepared to survive out in this mess, so why hadn’t he insisted on going himself?
Because he hadn’t really believed she’d be so stupid as to go out there. He figured she’d stand out on the porch for a while, realize how ill equipped she was to make it and come back inside.
He didn’t know how long he’d been reading when he realized she hadn’t returned. With a curse, he’d gotten up and made his way to the door. When he’d opened it, he warmed the air with a blistering attack on her intelligence and her stubbornness. He could follow the trail she’d made until the driveway curved out of sight. The snow helpfully showed him how many times she’d fallen and gotten up, moved a few feet and fallen again.
She deserved to freeze out there. Or so he’d been telling himself for the past hour. Now he was scared. She’d been gone much too long. Like it or not, he was going to be forced to go find her, probably in a snowbank, unconscious.
He took the time to put on his heavy winter gear. He couldn’t use the snowshoes, which further infuriated him. Instead he got his crutches out and hoped like hell he wouldn’t fall while moving through the snow.
Jason had gone about ten feet down the driveway when a movement to his left caught his eye. It was Leslie, creeping along beneath the trees and pulling a humongous suitcase by a strap. Of course the thing tipped over, not for the first time from the looks of it, because the wheels couldn’t work on this kind of terrain. Zombie-like, she stopped, righted it and crept on.
He wanted to shout all his fury at the universe for placing him in this situation. Instead he painstakingly turned and headed toward her.
She didn’t see him until he was right in front of her and when she looked up, she screamed so loud that she startled him, throwing him off balance. If the crutches hadn’t been planted so firmly, he would have toppled over backward.
“What the hell is wrong with you, woman? I came out to see if I could help!”
“You startled me,” she replied, her voice a little hoarse.
“No kidding!” He reached over and lifted the suitcase. “Get into the house.”
“But, I—”
“Go!” he thundered, causing her to jump. She stared at him and her look of terror almost undid him. He opened his mouth, closed it and finally said, “Please go into the house and get warm. I’ll get this the rest of the way.”
She nodded mutely and turned away. He watched her creep through the snow between them and the cabin, fall over, right herself and creep forward until she finally reached the porch. Only then did he hook the handle of the suitcase onto the crutch and hobbled forward.
When his nightmare finally ended and he placed the suitcase on the porch, Jase was exhausted. He’d had to rely on the damaged shoulder and it was telling him about it. His side felt as though he’d just run a 100K marathon and his thigh throbbed with each heartbeat.
His muscles were giving out on him when he finally reached the door. It opened just as he touched the handle and Leslie stared at him, wide-eyed.
“I’ll get it,” she said breathlessly, and pulled the suitcase inside. Then she turned back. “Let me help you—”
“Just get out of my way,” he mumbled, too exhausted to raise his voice.
Once inside, he closed and locked the door and leaned against it, breathing hard, his eyes closed. When he finally opened them, she was standing in front of him, wringing her hands. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have gone after me. I was okay.”
He stared at her for a long time. “Sure you were. Your lips are blue and you probably have hypothermia. Get those clothes off and get into the shower. Now.” His voice was quite soft. He didn’t know why she rushed away, dragging her suitcase.
She quickly opened it, throwing books and magazines everywhere, found some clothes and quickly went into the bathroom.
He had to get off his good leg or he wouldn’t be able to get around at all. With painful movements he peeled off his winter garb and slowly made his way to his captain’s chair near the potbellied stove.
He sat and carefully removed his boots before he leaned back in his chair.
What had happened out there? He’d been so blasted worried about her that the relief he’d felt when he’d spotted her had caught him off guard. Just because he didn’t want her here didn’t mean he wanted her to die.
Of course he’d been relieved at finding her determinedly dragging that mule train behind her, but what he’d felt at the time was much more than that.
And he didn’t like it.
Three
Leslie stood underneath the warm water. She was so cold. She hadn’t realized how cold until the water hit her skin. Although the water was barely warm, it hurt everywhere it touched her.
She stood with her eyes closed. Why had she done something so foolish? She had no answer.
She dreaded going back into the room where Jason waited. She’d never seen anyone as angry as he was. She worked for accountants who, by and large, were even-tempered people.
Her job! How could she have forgotten? She’d left without telling anyone, not even her boss. A tear trickled down her cheek. As if her whole life hadn’t been turned upside down, she’d let her boss down.
Not that she could have told him what had happened or when she might be able to come back. The fact was that she might be running for the rest of her life. She’d have to find some kind of work, though, to survive. All her savings were tied up with her employee’s benefit package. Sooner or later, she’d be forced to contact them.
Leslie finally turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Compared to outside, the bathroom now felt almost toasty warm. Well, maybe not quite, but far better than what she’d felt outside.
Remembering her recent trek reminded her that Jason waited on the other side of the door. She shivered. It was a toss-up whether she was more afraid of freezing to death or of facing Jason’s wrath.
At least she had clean clothes to put on. She’d grabbed the first things she could find. Now she understood why people wore long johns in the winter. Too bad she didn’t have any. Once she got away from here, it would be the first item on her shopping list.
Jase forced his quivering arms to hold him as he went into the kitchen alcove. This was one time when he was going to break down and take the pain medication he’d been given.
He’d been trained to ignore pain and had elected not to take the meds because they made him feel weird, as if he was floating or half awake. At the moment he welcomed the sensation if it meant getting some relief.
After he swallowed them, Jase made more coffee, giving a silent plea for the electricity to return. He’d bought a top-of-the-line machine that could be programmed to make coffee. At the moment, his shaking hands spilled as much coffee as he managed to put into the campfire pot he’d found when he moved in. The old drip pot was better than nothing and he needed something hot. As did Leslie.
She’d turned off the shower several minutes ago but after that he’d heard nothing. He supposed he would hear some noise if she’d passed out and crashed onto the floor.
By the time the coffee was ready, the pain pills had taken the edge off and he managed to fill two cups and carry them to the table without spilling scalding coffee all over himself.
He heard the bathroom door open but he didn’t look her way. “Have some coffee. It will help you get warm.”
She didn’t reply but he was damned if he was going to beg her to look after herself. She meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. Hell, he’d only known her for less than twenty-four hours.
He sipped on his coffee, keeping his eyes on the swirling snow, until she walked to the table and sat down. He glanced up at her and quickly away. She had a little color in her cheeks now and her lips were pinker.
“Thank you for coming out to help me,” she said.
He lifted one shoulder in acknowledgment.
“You were right. I shouldn’t have gone out there until the snow stopped. It was foolish and you have every right to be angry with me.”
His head snapped up and he stared at her. “I’m not angry at you.”
“You gave a great imitation, then.”
“I was scared out of my wits, Leslie. You were gone much too long. I figured I’d find your body lying somewhere in a snowdrift.”
A corner of her mouth lifted. “I couldn’t get the trunk open. The lock had frozen.”
“Then how did you get your bag?”
“I blew on it for what seemed like forever in hopes it would thaw a little.” Before he could comment, she said, “I know. It was a stupid thing to do.”
“Not if it worked.” He settled back into his chair. Other than feeling as though he’d had several beers in quick succession, he felt fine. He glanced at her again. She looked like a baby chick with her fine hair in tufts around her face and neck. When she lifted her cup she saw him staring at her. She paused with her coffee halfway to her mouth and blinked.
She really was a cute kid. “How old are you?” he asked.
“Twenty-five.”
“Really. I figured you to be in your teens.”
“How old are you?”
“Just turned thirty.” He could tell she was surprised. Probably thought he was some old crippled geezer. “How old did you think I was?”
“I didn’t know. I’m not very good at judging people’s ages.”
“Ah.” He waited, but when she didn’t say anything more, he asked, “What do you do for a living?”
She placed her cup on the table, folded her hands around it and asked, “What difference does it make?”
“None whatsoever. Just making conversation.”
“That’s a change,” she muttered, bringing her cup to her mouth and draining it.
“I realize I haven’t been very friendly since you arrived.”
“Gee. You think?”
He shrugged. “Okay, so I’ve been rude. I apologize. So why don’t we start over?” He held out his hand. “Glad to meet you, Leslie O’Brien. I’m Jason Crenshaw from Texas, and a member of the United States Army.”
She tentatively reached out and took his hand. She was still cold, which was probably the reason electricity seemed to jump between them.
She took a deep breath and pulled her hand away. “I take it you’re on leave of some kind.”
“Medical leave. I’m considering getting out and doing something else. I have no idea what at the moment. Eventually, I’ll be going home.”
He wasn’t looking forward to that visit. His only hope was to have his leg working well enough that he need never tell them that he’d been hurt.
“To Texas?”
He paused, wondering why he was talking about this. And to a stranger, at that. Who knew? If it helped her to be more comfortable around him, then why not? In a few days she’d be on her way to wherever she was going and he’d never see her again.
“Yeah, my folks have a ranch in Central Texas. In fact, it’s been in the Crenshaw family since the 1840s.”
“Wow,” she whispered. “That’s a long time.”
He nodded. “I’m the youngest of four sons.”
“The youngest? I would have thought you were the oldest, the way you act.”
He grinned and she looked at him in amazement.
“What?” he asked.
“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile. You should do it more often.”
He shook his head ruefully. “Sorry about that. I’ve been here on my own too long, I guess. Nothing much to smile at these past few months.
“As for my brothers, they don’t give me much flak. I went into the service right out of college. I rarely go home. Before this—” he gestured at his leg, “—I was out of the country most of the time. I stay in touch with them by e-mail.”
“I bet they’re worried about you, being hurt and alone up here.”
“Nah. They don’t know where I am or that I’ve been wounded. I plan to keep it that way.” He looked around. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. Do you want some of the stew I made yesterday?” He started to push himself up.
“Please don’t get up. I’ll heat it up for us.”
He watched her walk away from him. She certainly filled out those jeans nicely. These were khaki-colored, not the ones she wore yesterday. Her legs seemed to go on forever.
He knew she could hear him around the corner so he asked, “You haven’t mentioned a husband or anyone who might be worrying about you. Is there someone you want to call on the cell phone?”
She leaned around the corner and looked at him for a long moment. “No. I’m not married and there’s nobody worrying about me.” She disappeared again.
“Oh. Too bad. You’re a fine-looking woman, Leslie O’Brien, a fine-looking woman.”
This time she came around the corner with her hands on her hips. “Have you been drinking?”
“No, ma’am.”
“You’re acting strange.”
“Prob’ly the pills.”
“What pills?”
“For pain.”
She frowned. “They must be fairly strong.”
“Who knows? I never take stuff like that.”
“But you did today.”
“Well, yeah. I was, uh, you know, uh, hurting a little more than usual.”
“I see,” she said, her frown intact.
“Why?”
She shook her head and disappeared. A few minutes later she brought them two bowls of stew, went back for two glasses of water, refilled their cups with coffee, then sat down.
“Maybe you’ll feel better once you eat.”
He picked up the spoon. “Oh, I’m feeling fine, just fine.”
She grinned and he noticed she had a dimple in her cheek. “I’m beginning to believe that.”
“That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile. You have a dimple,” he pointed out.
“That’s right,” she replied, chuckling for some reason, and began to eat.
He ate in silence. When he finished she asked, “Would you like some more?”
He shook his head. “Thanks, but no.” When he tried to get up, she immediately took his dishes, along with her own, to the kitchen. With the help of one of the crutches, Jase made it to the big chair and sank down into it. He pushed the bar for the recliner and sighed with pleasure when his legs came up.
A few minutes later, Leslie came out of the kitchen area and looked surprised to see him sprawled in the chair. He waved his hand at the couch. “Here. Sit down. You need to rest.”
She eyed him for a moment, then walked over and sat. “I thought I’d read.”
“Oh. Well, I guess that’s all right, if you don’t want to talk.”
Her lips twitched. “Actually, I’d rather listen to you.”
He nodded agreeably. “Okay.”
“Tell me more about your family.”
His smile slipped. After a moment he said, “I love my family. My mom and dad are my heroes.”
“Do you get along with your brothers?”
“Of course. Once they realized I wasn’t taking anything off them, they learned to respect me. It’s hell being the youngest,” he added thoughtfully.
“I wouldn’t know. I’m an only child.”
“Too bad. Is your dad still alive?”
She shook her head. “He was killed in military action before I was born.”
“Oh, man, that’s rough.”
“It was rougher on Mom. I never knew him, but she grieved for him, even though she worked hard to hide her pain from me.” She deliberately changed the subject. “Are your brothers married or single?”
He burst out laughing. He couldn’t help himself. “Would you believe that all three of my brothers, who swore they’d never get married, got married within a couple of years of each other? The first two were married only a couple of months apart.”
“You’re the lone holdout, I take it.”
“You got that right. Besides, I’ve never had time to work on a relationship. I was determined to finish college in three years and get my commission.”
“Are you saying you don’t like women?”
“Nope. I’m saying I haven’t had any time for women. Until now.”
She stiffened. “What do you mean, now?”
He waved his hand airily. “Well, until my leg’s strong enough to hold me and I go back to my unit, I’ve got all the time in the world to do anything I want.”
“Is that why you’re hiding up here in the woods?”
Hmm. Maybe she had a point. With all the time in the world, why was he staying by himself? Oh, yeah, because he didn’t want his family to see him like this. He didn’t want them to worry about him. He didn’t want to bring his guilt and anger and frustration home to them.
“I didn’t want to see or talk to anybody. I led my squad into an ambush and two men were killed. I should have died with them.”
“Looks like you almost did.”
“I know. Guess it wasn’t in the cards for me.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I’ve asked to be reassigned. No more combat. They’ll either put me behind a desk or have me train others.”
“Sounds like a way for you to use your skills.”
After several minutes of silence, Jase murmured, “I’m tired.”
“Oh, well, why don’t you try to rest? I’ll just get one of my books and—”
“No, I don’t mean tired right now. I’ve been in the army for nine years, working in special ops. I was good at it. But I screwed up that night. I should have double-checked, hell, triple checked, the info we received to make sure what we had was accurate. I don’t want that kind of responsibility again.”
“I think you’re being a little hard on yourself.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, anyway.”
“Do you intend to let your family know what happened?”
“Not if I can help it, no. I want to be in good physical condition the next time I see them.” He closed his eyes. “I’m ashamed to face them, all right? I wanted them to be proud of me and what I’ve accomplished. I don’t want them to know that I screwed up.”
“I have a hunch they’ll be too glad you survived to care about anything else and, from what you’ve told me, I doubt they’ll believe you screwed up. I know I don’t.”
He opened his eyes. “You’re a nice person, Leslie O’Brien.”
“Yep. Nice. That’s me.”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
She laughed. “Why are you so interested in my personal life?”
“Well, we talked about mine. I think. Didn’t we?”
“I date once in a while. Nothing serious.”
“Good.”
She raised her brows. “Good?”
He closed his eyes. “Yeah,” he said, drawling his words, “’cause I don’t want to be stepping on anybody’s toes.”
Four
Leslie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She stiffened in outrage at his cavalier attitude toward her. She wanted to say something cutting, something belittling, in response, something that wouldn’t betray the way his words had affected her.
He didn’t stir. She stood and looked closer at him. He lay there bonelessly sprawled in his chair. He had thick lashes she’d never noticed before, probably because his eyes had always drawn her complete attention.
Jason’s hair fell across his forehead and she wanted to push it gently back, but she restrained herself.
He made a sound and at first she thought he’d said something until she realized he was asleep and the soft noise she’d heard was his deep breathing.
She turned away and spotted her suitcase in the middle of the floor between their beds, paperbacks and magazines scattered around it. How could she have forgotten to pick those up?
She made a neat stack of them, found her warmest pair of pajamas and laid them at the foot of her bed. She also dug out socks because her feet had gotten cold the night before.
Sometime while they were talking, the light had disappeared outside. She glanced at her watch and was surprised to see that it was almost eight o’clock.
My, how time flies when your reluctant host is busy making passes at you.
What a strange day this had been. She wondered if Jason would remember talking to her and revealing so much about himself. Would he resent her for being the one who’d listened to his pain?
She glanced over her shoulder. He looked comfortable where he was. She looked around the room and saw that the stove needed more wood. There was a huge stack on the porch so she quietly put on her coat, opened the door and hauled several pieces inside.
Next, she put them in the stove as she’d watched him do, and quietly closed the small door of the efficient heat source.
He didn’t stir.
Leslie went to the table and blew out the lamp before she slipped behind the blanket around her bed. Once she’d dressed for bed, she went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth.
When she came out of the bathroom, she looked over at him. He hadn’t moved. She found an extra blanket and draped it over him, tiptoed to her bed and slipped in between the covers.
Despite her exhaustion, Leslie had trouble falling asleep. She’d never known a man like Jason. He was troubled, but who wouldn’t be, having gone through what he had.
She reminded herself that he was exactly the kind of man she’d vowed never to become involved with: a military man.
Not that his career really mattered. Once she left, she knew there would be no reason for her ever to see him again. At least she had a different opinion of him now that she’d gotten to know him a little better. Pain would explain his rude and irascible behavior.
If she were home, she’d probably be across the hall from her apartment visiting with Teri and discussing the mixed emotions this man caused her.
Teri.
She prayed that Teri was all right.
The grating sound of metal rubbing against metal woke her up and she realized the noise she heard was the old recliner as it straightened. Impulsively, Leslie slipped out of bed to check on him.
“Jason?”
The silence lengthened until he finally said, “Sorry to wake you,” in a gruff voice.
“Is there something I can do for you?”
Another pause. “No. I’m going to put more wood in the stove and go to bed.”
Because of the moonlight coming through the window, she could see him sitting in the chair, holding his head. She carefully made her way over to the sofa.
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Annette Broadrick
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: RUNNING FROM HIS PASTDelta Force agent Jase Crenshaw knew no one would be looking for him in the remote cabin. The solitude suited him fine. No prying family, no concerned colleagues…and no one to point a deserving finger of blame. His physical wounds would heal. His soul was another story.RUNNING FOR HER LIFEThough the waiflike creature on his doorstep was clearly in trouble, Jase vowed to offer only shelter from the storm. Leslie O′Brien′s innocence and tenderness were more than he deserved. But their unexpected encounter could save them both….