The Stranger in Her Bed

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The Stranger in Her Bed Page 6

by Janet Chapman


  "Was it insured?"

  "Only liability."

  "Just call your daddy. I'm sure he'll buy you a new one."

  She snapped her gaze to his. "How do you know my father?"

  Ethan shrugged. "I don't. But I'm guessing there aren't many women named Segee who know about sawmills. And your accent is definitely French Canadian. You have to be related to Segee Logging and Lumber of Quebec."

  Anna stared at her burning truck again, not disputing his guess. It didn't matter if he knew who her daddy was; nobody would link Samuel Fox to André Segee. "He'll just add this accident to his list of reasons why I should come home."

  Anna suddenly felt two hands at her waist and was pulled backward off the boulder until she was plastered up against a rock-hard chest. "I know someone who can give you rides to and from work until you buy a new truck."

  She wiggled free, stepped away, and turned to face him. "I'll drive my snowmobile."

  He grabbed her hand and started pulling her up the hill. "You've got to be the most hardheaded woman I know."

  "Thank you."

  He stopped and glared at her.

  Anna continued climbing past him.

  But it didn't take them ten minutes to reach the top, it took them twenty. Her legs just wouldn't cooperate. Ethan had to help her most of the way, and when they finally made it to the road, Anna threw herself down in a snowbank, exhausted.

  "We can't stop. You're getting hypothermic."

  "Just a minute," she said, panting with each spasm that racked her muscles. She knew that she wouldn't be able to wiggle one finger come morning, every inch of her ached, from her hair to her toes.

  Ethan sat down beside her, not even winded from their climb. "You need to get home and soak in a tub of warm water."

  She looked around the darkened woods. The flames from her truck had faded, and the forest was eerily foreboding. Lord, she hated the dark. "Where's your truck?"

  "Down the road. I saw you spinning out of control, but I couldn't stop." He looked behind them. "The road must be pure ice under this snow."

  Anna rubbed her forehead. "This is where Samuel Fox was killed. The exact same thing happened to him." She looked at the man sitting beside her. "Only he didn't have someone to pull him out. I was told it was two days before anyone found him."

  "How did you end up with Fox Run? You related to Samuel?"

  When she only rubbed her forehead with a tired sigh, Ethan turned his attention to the skid marks zigzagging from one side of the lane to the other. He reached down and brushed the snow beside him. "There must be a spring running over the road. There's glaze ice under this snow."

  "There's never been a spring here before. There's one about a quarter mile from here, but it's off in the woods."

  He snapped his gaze back to hers, and Anna could see his eyes had narrowed. "I've lived here all winter, and I've never seen this spot get icy," she quickly said. "And there's a map at Fox Run that shows a spring someplace over there," she added, waving toward the main road.

  After several heartbeats of silence, Ethan finally stood up. "Springs can be worse than old girlfriends, suddenly popping up in the damnedest places."

  "A recurring problem of yours?" she asked, taking his offered hand to stand.

  He didn't answer. They slipped and slid to his truck, which was nearly off the road, the left front tire buried in the snowbank. She followed the line of skid marks to it.

  "Very impressive," she said as she opened the door.

  "Hey, my truck is still on the road."

  "But stuck."

  "The engine still works, so you can get warm. I've got a come-along in the back that'll get us out."

  "I'll help."

  He lifted her onto the seat. "No, you won't. You'll sit here with the heater running. You've stopped shivering and your words are slurring together. You're fading, Segee."

  "Fine. Be the macho man. I'll just lie here and die."

  "You can't go to sleep. Start the truck, unzip my jacket, and take off your shoes."

  She blinked at him. He was looking a bit blurry. And she did know the dangers of falling asleep and never waking up. But it irked her to be at Ethan's mercy.

  "There's a thermos of coffee in the seat," he told her. "It should still be lukewarm."

  "I hate coffee."

  The glare Ethan gave her could have turned back a bear. But just to show him she wasn't dead yet, Anna pushed him away with her foot and pulled the door shut, then turned the key in the ignition.

  Ethan reached into the truck bed and pulled out the block-and-tackle device he could hook to a tree to rachet the truck out of the snowbank. Anna unzipped his jacket and started working at the frozen laces of her shoes. She managed to get one boot off but couldn't keep her eyelids open any longer. She lay her head on the seat with a sigh and gave in to sleep.

  Chapter Five

  Guessing that the wheezing barks coming from inside meant he'd found the right building, Ethan kicked in the door, carried his listless patient inside, and laid her down on the couch. The large black dog immediately began washing Anna's face.

  She didn't even stir.

  Not good. He would have preferred to take her to the hospital, but the fifty-mile drive would have taken too long in the storm. Ethan headed to the back of the house and found the kitchen, but none of the light switches worked. He stumbled around until he found a battery-powered lantern on the table and continued exploring until he found the bathroom just off the kitchen. He put the plug in the bathtub drain and started running it full of lukewarm water, hoping the well tank had enough pressure to fill the tub. Walking back through the kitchen, he stopped long enough to put the kettle on to boil, then returned to the living room and stopped dead in his tracks.

  There were half a dozen chickadees perched on Anna's chest and head, chirping at her. The old black dog was sitting beside the couch, his head resting on her arm. Ethan walked over and propped the damaged front door shut, then gently pushed the dog away with his knee, shooed the birds into flight, and touched Anna's forehead to find it cold and dry. He started undressing her and couldn't help but smile. She was going to be damned pissed off when she woke up and discovered he'd stripped her naked.

  Ethan found one beautiful woman under her masculine work clothes: her chilled skin was alabaster, her toned muscles gently sculpted, her long legs perfectly suiting her athletic body. Her breasts were full— and damn if they weren't encased in a delicate yellow satin bra.

  What a delightful surprise. Anna Segee was all woman beneath her masculine uniform, with matching bra and panties that had to be the sexiest thing Ethan had seen in months. He started to sweat, though he was already soaked to the skin himself. It had been a while since he'd had the pleasure of handling a beautiful woman— even though this one happened to be unconscious.

  Ignoring his instinct— or was it his libido?— telling him to complete his chore, Ethan left her cute little underwear on, quickly covered her with a quilt from the back of the couch, then went to work unbraiding her wet hair. He brought the lantern into the bathroom and shut off the faucet, then came back and carried Anna to the tub. She finally stirred when he lowered her into the water, then opened her eyes and gasped.

  "Easy, now. It'll only sting for a minute."

  "I'm naked."

  "Not quite," he pointed out, grabbing her flailing hands and holding them in front of her. "Just sit quietly and let the water do its job."

  She pulled her hands free to cover her chest, sinking into the water up to her chin, but immediately gave a cry of pain, and she tried to bolt from the bathtub.

  "I know it hurts, but we need to raise your temperature."

  "But it stings!" She went still, then huge tears ran down her cheeks.

  Ethan closed his eyes. Lord, he hated to see a woman cry. The kettle, which had been screaming the fact it was boiling, finally entered his consciousness. "Can you keep yourself from drowning while I get you something hot to drink?"


  She quietly nodded, her head bowed, her tears landing in the water in front of her. He hesitated, then left the lantern with her, allowing the light to spill into the kitchen.

  Ethan put a tea bag in a mug, along with several spoonfuls of sugar from one of the canisters on the counter, and poured in the boiling water. When he returned to the bathroom, Anna was adjusting a large wet towel over her body.

  "There's a flock of chickadees in your kitchen, Segee. They keep buzzing around me like flies."

  "They're hungry," she said, not looking up.

  Her cheeks were bright red, and though he hoped it was heat returning to her body, more likely the woman was blushing all the way to her toes. Either way, she seemed to be warming up.

  He walked to the tub, hunched down, and handed her the tea. "What do I feed them?"

  "There's seed in the tall canister on the counter," she whispered, holding up the cup to blow on the steaming drink.

  She still wouldn't lift her eyes to his, and Ethan looked down. Yup. Even her feet were pink. "I need to know if you're hurt anyplace. That was quite a ride you took."

  "I'm sore, but everything works."

  He didn't know whether to believe her or not. "I'll take you to the hospital in Greenville once you're warm. You might have internal injuries."

  "I'd know if I did. I'm just lame. All the snow that came in the cab actually protected me."

  "Okay. Where's your generator? I'll start it up, then build a fire in the hearth."

  "Out the back door, in the shed at the end of the porch. You have to choke it," she instructed, still not looking at him.

  Ethan found the generator, got it going, threw the switch, and light suddenly flooded the shed and glowed through the kitchen windows. He went back inside and built a roaring fire in the hearth, then returned to the bathroom to find Anna's mug sitting on the floor, empty.

  "Where's your bedroom? I'll get you some dry clothes."

  "Upstairs. The first one on the right."

  "Good. I can't wait to go through your underwear drawer."

  She gasped, snapping her gaze to his.

  Ethan gave her a lecherous grin. "I'm on to you, lady, now that I know what's under all those layers of men's clothes."

  "One word to the men at work, and I promise to use all nine bullets on you."

  He laughed as he headed upstairs.

  * * *

  Anna dressed, then dried her hair, cursing the man making himself at home in her house. The arrogant jerk. He'd brought her a cream cashmere sweater and black leggings, her pink panties and bra nestled on top, and shot her a wink just before he'd closed the bathroom door. Getting dressed proved to be a trying task, as she felt like someone had taken a stick to her. Anna looked in the mirror and saw several small bruises on her face, interlaced with tiny scratches. Dammit, she was not normally prone to accidents— they'd only started since Ethan Knight had appeared back in her life. Anna's stomach churned just thinking about walking into the living room.

  He saved your life tonight, she told herself.

  And he undressed you, her reflection returned.

  How was she going to survive work, now that Ethan knew about her sexy underwear? Would he give her knowing looks or make snide remarks that only she would understand? Anna sighed and tucked her riotous curls behind her ears. She would just have to brazen it out. She needed her job at Loon Cove, and she wasn't about to let Ethan drive her away. She opened the door to the bathroom, but took only two steps before she grabbed her back with a groan. She ached so badly she ended up hobbling into the living room.

  The first thing she noticed was that the couch had been moved in front of the fireplace and made up as a bed. Then she noticed the suitcase sitting on the floor at the foot of the stairs. Ethan was sitting in a chair beside the roaring fire, drinking tea, his clothes changed and his hair combed.

  "You are not sleeping on my couch," she said as she walked into the living room, ruining her edict with another groan.

  The grin he was wearing disappeared. His eyes widened as his gaze moved up and down her body, finally stopping at her rioting curls. His smile just as suddenly returned. "No, I'm not. You are."

  "Excuse me?"

  He nodded at her hand bracing her back. "I doubt you can make it upstairs, so I'll sleep in your bed and you can sleep down here."

  Over her dead body was he taking her bed. She'd never be able to sleep in her bed again, knowing he'd been there— probably naked. She shook her head. "Your cabin is across camp. The generator's going, so its porch light will be on. And the fire in the woodstove is probably dead, but there should be enough embers to get it going again.

  "But it doesn't have running water, and you do." He took a sip of his tea and settled deeper into his chair. "I think I'll bunk with you until we get that fixed."

  She hobbled over to stand in front of him. "I live alone. And unfortunately, you live next door."

  He stood up. Anna backed up a step, not liking that she had to look up to glare at him.

  "Sit down before you fall down. You're so beat up, you can't stand without swaying."

  She turned on her heel to head to the kitchen, lost her balance, and started to fall. Ethan caught her before she hit the floor, scooped her up, and gently set her on the couch.

  "And you called me an idiot last month," he muttered, grabbing the blanket and tossing it over her. "You're too stubborn for your own good, Segee."

  "Anna. My name is Anna."

  "And I prefer Ethan. I'll try to remember if you do."

  He left the living room, returned with another cup of tea, and handed it to her. Anna wrinkled her nose. She didn't even have to take a sip to know it was laced with sugar again. "I drink my tea black," she said, holding out the cup.

  He simply sat down in his chair. "I guessed as much when I had to hunt for the sugar. But you need the boost right now. Your body's had a shock."

  Since he'd doubtless pour the foul concoction down her throat, Anna sipped the tea while watching the flames dance over the logs in the fireplace.

  "That was close tonight," he said into the silence. "The accident was bad enough, but then you scared the hell out of me by passing out." He paused, staring at her, and then said, "Tell me about your ghost. Tom told me you have one haunting your mill."

  She snorted. "I'll just bet he did. Tom Bishop has more imagination than discretion. Just finish your tea and head to your cabin. I'll loan you my shotgun if you're afraid."

  He set his cup on the hearth and leaned his elbows on his knees, his gaze piercing. "I'm sleeping here tonight, Anna. You may have injuries you don't know about."

  "Who died and left you king?"

  That infuriating, devastating smile returned, and Anna felt her stomach flip. Ethan leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers together over his belly. "I seem to have stumbled onto the title all by myself."

  "I don't need a babysitter."

  "There's safety in numbers, you know," he said. "And if your ghost shows up, I can help you call the ghost-busters."

  "It's probably just the historians who want to buy Fox Run," she told him. "They're a bit obsessed with this place. They're the ones snooping through the old buildings."

  "But why at night? Why not during the day, when you're at work?"

  She frowned. She hadn't really thought of that.

  "Just how badly do the resort people want your land?"

  "Bad enough that several three-piece suits came up from Boston to have a go at changing my mind."

  "Maybe they're trying to scare you into selling."

  "I've thought of that."

  "How about an old boyfriend?" he asked, his eyes taking on a definite sparkle. "Got a disgruntled old beau back in Quebec who wants to see you return home?"

  She choked on her tea. "No. Just four brothers, one father, and several uncles even more obnoxious than you."

  Ethan suddenly stood up and stretched his arms over his head with a loud yawn. Anna tried to close her eyes, she real
ly did, but they simply refused to work. God, he was beautiful. His shirt lifted, exposing a very flat, very male stomach, and his muscles rippled over his rib cage, stretching his shirt. Anna's belly knotted again.

  "Are you hungry?" he asked.

  Come to think of it, she was hungry. Maybe that was causing her stomachache. "No. I couldn't eat a thing. But I left some staples in your cabin; you can fix yourself something when you get there."

 

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