“Fine,” he said, crossing his massive arms across his even bigger chest. “There’s the door.” She looked at him as if she couldn’t believe he had just called her bluff.
“Fine,” she parroted after a moment. Without any apparent modesty she lifted the shirt over her head, giving Kane an eyeful of the dragon clutching the side of her body, not to mention her full, round breasts and tiny waist. But instead of putting on the flannel shirt he’d provided, she reached into her pack and extracted the clothes she’d had on earlier. She didn’t bother with undergarments. In one smooth move she pulled the cotton shirt over her head and proceeded to step into her jeans.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he said, his voice a low growl. She slipped her feet into her Reeboks and pulled on a hoodie. Hefting the pack to her shoulder, she took her first step toward the door.
“Your cabin, your rules,” she said coolly. Her voice was eerily calm, as was her expression. There was no sign of the tantrum he was expecting to erupt at any moment. “I can respect that. Thanks for the lift today. And the donuts.”
Kane’s first thought was that she was certifiably insane. His second was that he was going to kill Jake for putting him in this situation to begin with. Women were trouble personified.
He took one step and effectively blocked the exit. “You can’t possibly be serious.” Another loud crack actually shook the cabin. She jumped, but remained steadfast.
“Please move.” It was a polite request, as if she was asking him to pass the salt. Then it dawned on him: she was bluffing. No one in their right mind would head out into that mess. She expected him to back down.
Well, fuck that. He would show her who was in charge here. It sucked that it had to happen on a night like this, but better to get it out of the way now before the idea that she had a choice in any of this had a chance to take root.
He stepped to the side and allowed her to pass. He had to give her credit, she sure put on a great show. Yep, she was going to turn around any second and give him those big doe eyes, maybe with some extra moisture and a classic pout thrown in for good measure. Yep. Any second.
She opened the door and the first sliver of doubt went through him. Okay, so she was taking it farther than he would have thought, but that just meant she had some fire in her. He could appreciate that. It would make his little victory all that much sweeter when she was forced to admit that he was right. He wouldn’t even gloat. Much.
Except she did not turn around. One second she was in the doorway, the next the door was pulled shut against the howling winds and Kane was left standing there alone in disbelief. Son of a bitch. The crazy female was probably hunkering down on the porch.
It amazed him the lengths to which some women would go to prove a point. Although with each passing minute, Kane’s uncertainty grew. When he figured she’d had enough, he rushed toward the window, remembering at the last minute that they had shuttered them.
“Let her get wet,” Kane muttered to himself. “Maybe it will cool her off a little.” He took two steps left, then right, then left again. An entire minute went by before he couldn’t stand it anymore. He threw open the door, pissed.
Kane was immediately hit with a blast of icy horizontal rain mixed in with quarter-sized hail. It pelted him relentlessly with surprising force. Lightning lit up the sky, and a quick scan left and right told him that the obdurate little female was not on the porch after all.
“Kiara!” he yelled. It was doubtful that he could be heard over the roar of the wind, but he called out anyway, over and over again. Think, he told himself. She might be stubborn, but even that would be overridden by an innate sense of self-preservation. She would look for shelter. Considering that her view of the site was extremely limited upon arrival, that limited her options as well. The only other possible shelter she might have been able to see was... the wooden lean-to where the extra firewood was kept.
He headed for that, crouching against the deluge of hail that pounded on his back. He could only imagine what it felt like on her much smaller frame. On the far side, the side sheltered from the storm, he saw a small figure huddled as far back as she could go when the next strike of lightning briefly illuminated the area.
“Kiara!” The figure moved slightly. “I’m going to take you back inside. Don’t fight me, it’ll only make it that much harder on both of us.” He reached down and closed his arms around the figure, lifting her easily. He hunched over, shielding her with his much larger body as he sprinted back toward the cabin. They hadn’t even made it inside when lightning struck a huge oak beside the lean-to, sending a branch as thick as his truck down onto the roof.
Kane kicked the door shut and plopped his shivering bundle down in front of the fire. Without hesitation, he began pulling off her soaked clothes and wrapping her in blankets. He spoke not a word; neither did she, though it was doubtful she could have even if she wanted to, her teeth were chattering so badly. He paused only slightly, inhaling sharply when he uncovered her dragon, but then continued on. Only when she was sufficiently cocooned in warm blankets did he stalk off to his own room to change his own clothes.
* * *
Little by little, Taryn’s body began to warm up again, but as it did, she was forced to face what she had done. She felt like a complete idiot. Once again her temper had almost been her downfall. It was one thing to assert yourself; quite another to do something monumentally stupid that put your life and someone else’s in danger. She didn’t have to worry about Gavin Howard finding her. She’d end up killing herself first.
For the hundredth time she looked over at Kane’s door. He still hadn’t come out, and probably wouldn’t anytime soon. She couldn’t blame him. And what had he done, really? Given her something warm and dry to wear? Offer to help her with her bleeding hand? God, she really was an idiot.
One by one she removed the layers of blankets, reaching for the soft flannel he’d brought out for her earlier. Wrapped inside was a pair of sweats as well. She donned them, pulling the drawstring around her waist, then rolling and cuffing until she could both walk and use her hands. Feeling a little like a kid playing dress-up, she made her way over to the kitchen and rooted around until she found what she was looking for.
* * *
Kane paced the length of his bedroom so many times he would not have been surprised to see a path worn into the hardwood. Had he not been fuming from the inside out he probably would have still felt the chill of the storm, even though he had pulled on dry clothes.
Crazy, she was fucking crazy, he murmured to himself. Next time he tried to save someone he would do well to make sure they didn’t have a death wish first. Really, he wondered, what the hell had she been thinking? Oh, I’ll just go walking through a freaking thunder and hail storm in the middle of the night on a mountain I don’t know when I’m twenty fucking miles from the nearest road?
He shook his head. As long as he lived, he would never, ever understand women, which is one of the reasons he steered as far away from them as possible. Kane was a man of logic, of process, of order, of discipline. Hell yes, he understood pride. Had it in spades himself. He also had a healthy appreciation for common sense, which she apparently lacked.
He was half-tempted to call Jake and tell him to forget it. There was no way he was going to make it a full week playing sitter to the little hellcat. He pulled out his cell, finger poised over the speed dial, then put it away. He did that several times. Each time it was his own pride that kept him from following through. He’d spent months fighting guerrillas in the jungles of Central America. Gone deep into the hills in Afghanistan. Holed up in caves in northern Siberia. And he was actually considering bailing on a mission that entailed spending one week with a slip of a woman in his own cabin on his own land?
A soft knock roused him from his musings. He stopped pacing and listened until it was repeated. Damn it! The woman was proving once again she hadn’t an ounce of common sense – or self-preservation. Didn’t she know how dan
gerous it was to pick another fight with him right now?
He took two long strides to the door and yanked it open, ready to give her a piece of his mind. Instead, his brain went into instant lock-down. His unwanted cabin-guest stood there, dressed in his clothes, looking up at him with those huge eyes while her hair curled around her face in big, loose waves.
She held her hands out to him. He looked down and saw the steaming mug of coffee she offered him. “I – I made some coffee,” she said quietly. “Thought it might warm you up.”
“You did, did you?” His voice was a deep growl. She might look adorable, but he wasn’t a total pushover. He kept one hand on the door, the other on the door frame, looming over her menacingly. Then she said the words that totally annihilated his defenses.
“I’m sorry.”
Kane blinked, then narrowed his eyes. Was this some sort of trick? He studied her face, but saw none of the defiance there he’d seen earlier. Only resignation and yes, maybe even a little humility. He reached out and accepted the mug she offered him. She turned to go.
“Let me see that hand,” he demanded, testing her. He knew he was pushing it. Saw it in the way her shoulders stiffened and then slumped. She faced him again, and held out her hand. She didn’t meet his eyes though. That was okay. He wasn’t a total bastard.
They moved in front of the fire, the sounds of the storm continuing to wail all around them as he removed her soaked bandages. He was acutely aware of her stare as he tended to her.
“Hell of a cut you got there,” he said, spilling antiseptic over it. Other than a slight hiss, she didn’t move. He was impressed. She seemed to have just accepted the fact that he was going to do this and gave herself up to it. That was progress. It made his job so much easier. “You didn’t slice your palm to do one of those satanic blood rituals, did you?”
He actually saw a spark of amusement in her eyes. Her freaking violet eyes that were reflecting the flames like some sort of demoness.
“No. It was an accident.”
“So you’re headstrong and clumsy,” he quipped, rewrapping her hand almost as skillfully as Michael had. He saw her lips tighten and thin but she kept her mouth shut. Maybe he could make it through the week after all. “Remind me to hide the axes.”
And then, like magic, she grinned and it was like the sun came out. “I’d say that would be a pretty smart move on your part.” Her smile faded, and she placed both of her small hands around his much larger one. “Thank you. That’s twice you’ve come to my rescue today.”
Ah, goddammit, he thought. He was beginning to think he liked her better when she was giving him a hard time. At least then he didn’t have to think about how fragile she looked in the firelight. He gave himself a mental shake. He didn’t want to like her or develop any kind of feelings for her one way or the other. She was a package, nothing more. And he was only doing this for his family, not out of any sense of chivalry on his part. He just wasn’t that nice.
So why was she looking at him as if he was a frigging knight in shining armor?
“Don’t make me do it again,” he said, a little more gruffly than he’d intended. He expected her to shrink back, but to his surprise, she grinned. “I won’t.”
Shit.
Chapter Seventeen
Kane awoke with one hell of a crick in his neck and his ass hurting. He was on the floor, his back against the sofa. His head had dropped back at an uncomfortable angle at some point, and that’s where it had apparently stayed. There was a soft weight leaning against his chest. He held in a groan as he looked down and saw the top of a golden head with dark red streaks.
What. The. Hell. Kiara/Taryn was curled up against him, her head snuggled against his chest, tucked securely under his arm. One arm reached around his chest, one leg across his hips, like he was some kind of giant teddy bear or something. The blankets that had covered her had been extended to cover him as well. He took a deep breath, watching her rise and fall with his chest, realizing immediately that that had been a mistake. He got a lungful of her soft feminine scent, and that was not a good thing. It made it too easy to think of her as an actual person instead of the job she was.
As gently as he could, he pried her off of him. How the hell had this happened? One minute they were sitting by the fire drinking coffee, the next – this? The constant pounding on the roof told him that it was raining steadily, though the lack of ground-shaking thunder and cacophony of quarter-sized hail hitting the outer walls indicated that the worst of the storm had passed. He had to get outside and assess the damage. Not to mention standing in an icy rain was sounding pretty good right about then.
He tucked her into the couch, ignoring the physical discomfort that came from his recent injuries and the fact that he’d slept sitting up on a hard floor. She frowned a little in her sleep – apparently she found him more comfortable than the couch - but thankfully, stayed quiet and asleep.
He was going to kill Jake for this. Kill him, then resuscitate him just so he could kill him again. His brothers would be sympathetic. Their father might be upset for a while, but he’d get over it.
Kiara was showered and dressed when he returned. He’d deliberately stayed outside for as long as he reasonably could, but kept a close eye on the cabin all the same in case she entertained thoughts of an another self-guided tour around the compound.
All of the blankets had been folded and put away. A fire had been lit in the small bedroom, and their wet clothes were suspended before it, hers looking like doll clothes next to his. He appraised the makeshift line she’d constructed out of some thin rope and the support posts of the beds, grunting in reluctant approval.
A new stack of firewood had been carried in, he noticed, and the delicious aroma of fresh coffee, muffins, eggs, and bacon greeted him. She offered him a brief smile as he entered, then went back to unloading supplies into the cupboards. He wondered if she remembered curling up to him last night, or if it was something she had done while in slumber, unaware.
Kane exchanged his soaked clothes for dry ones and joined her at the table. She’d already eaten, but had prepared a plate for him and sat across from him, both hands around her coffee mug, while he dug in. Somewhat cautiously, Kane sampled the meal and was pleasantly surprised to discover that it tasted every bit as good as it smelled. It had been long time since someone had cooked for him. He devoured everything she put in front of him, including second and third helpings.
“If this is how you apologize,” he said finally, wiping his mouth, “then feel free to run out into a storm anytime.” She smiled at that, and damn if it didn’t just warm his chest. What the hell was wrong with him? He made sure to keep his features stern and his eyes hard. The last thing he needed was her thinking she could get to him. Because she couldn’t.
“No more storm running,” she promised. “But I promise I’ll be out of your hair as soon as it’s safe to leave.”
His last mouthful of coffee went down slowly. Not part of the plan. Shit. Maybe he was going to have to play nice after all.
“You’re not in my hair,” he said, helping himself to more coffee, mainly to avoid looking at her. “And you are a hell of a kitchen wench.”
She laughed at his response, a patient, indulgent chuckle. “Yeah, and you always look like you’re about to chew off your own arm to escape.”
He frowned. Did he really look like that, he wondered? If he did, it was only because he wasn’t sure what female he would be facing next time he turned around – the scared-to-death cub, the feisty stubborn wench, or the unbelievably soft and vulnerable woman who had covered him with a blanket and made him breakfast.
“Yep,” she said, nodding emphatically. “Just like that.”
He smiled ruefully. “I guess I’m just not used to being around women like you.”
“Like me?” she asked, puzzled. “Am I so different from other women?”
“Hell, yes,” he said a little too quickly. He could count on one hand the number of females that ha
d riled him so quickly. Even less was the number of those able to practically knock him on his ass with a look from those violet eyes or a soft-spoken apology. Yet more reasons why having her here was not the best of ideas.
A frown creased her brow. Could she sense his frustration? Thankfully, she didn’t call him on it. Well, not directly anyway.
“So you are telling me you don’t make a habit of rescuing damsels in distress?”
“No,” he barked the word out with a laugh. If she only knew how ridiculous that question was. She looked at him oddly, her gaze penetrating far deeper than he would have liked, but thankfully, dropped the subject moved to a safer topic: the weather.
“So... how does it look out there?”
Dare he lie to her? He had a feeling she’d be able to tell if he did. Those eyes of hers were like lasers, scanning him every time she locked on target. He found it very disconcerting.
Full disclosure was not an option. He might be able to emphasize some things more than others. That would provide the perfect excuse to keep her here for a few days.
“The path we came in on is blocked in several places – downed trees. It’s still raining like hell, and after the dryer than normal season, there’s a very real danger of mudslides.” It was true enough. He neglected to mention that there was more than one way out, and that he and his brothers had constructed escape routes in case of any event.
Or that she would be staying here with him until his brother came to claim her.
She bit her lip, clearly concerned. He knew she was calculating her chances of departure. He could have told her they were pretty much zero, regardless of the weather. “We’re not in any immediate danger here, though,” he reassured her. “As long as we use some common sense.”
Dangerous Secrets: Callaghan Brothers, Book 1 Page 15