Stormbound With A Tycoon. Shawna DelacorteЧитать онлайн книгу.
hoping she would accept that as a sign to go about her business. A couple of minutes later he heard the shower.
Dylan leaned against the kitchen counter and expelled a sigh of relief that she had gone. Other than a couple of delightful minutes when he first woke up, the entire morning had been uncomfortable and very awkward. He had turned on the old charm, but she had refused to succumb.
Jessica McGuire was obviously a very capable woman. He had no experience with women like that—smart, capable, unpretentious and down to earth. He could not imagine even one of the women he had dated over the years actually running out into the rain and mud to check on a propane tank, let alone knowing what to do with it when she got there. He had racked up lots of exciting days and memorable nights, but during the past three months he had been forced to admit, if only to himself, that in spite of everything it had been a lonely existence. It was a bitter pill to swallow and one that had not gone down easily, but he knew it was the truth.
A hard stab of despair hit him when the memory of what happened to Stanley and Rose Clarkson popped into his mind again. Where it had always been a game for him in the past, it had finally dawned on him that he was now thirty-five years old and did not have anything important to show for his life. He had lots of memorable adventures, thousands of acquaintances around the world and a net worth of several million dollars, but he didn’t have a real home, a family or any really close friends other than Justin McGuire. He didn’t have the things that truly mattered.
Jessica was so different from any other woman he had ever known. She did not hang on his every word, laugh at his jokes whether they were funny or not, jump to fulfill his every whim. In short, she made no effort to impress him or play up to his ego, and he was not sure exactly how to handle it. In time gone past he wouldn’t have given it any more thought. He would have simply moved on to someone more receptive. But now…well, she had him confused. He was sure of one thing, though. He had to do something to counter her obviously negative opinion of him. But what?
As soon as the coffee was ready he poured himself a mug and took it into the living room. He opened the front door and stared out at the rain. The cold, damp air chilled him in spite of the coffee that heated the inside of his mouth and his throat. He had to find something he could do that would show Jessica he was not as out of place at the cabin or as inept as she seemed to think. Then his gaze fell on the firewood stacked neatly on the porch.
He glanced back at the cold fireplace. That was it. There was nothing like a warm, cozy fire to break the ice. He returned his coffee mug to the kitchen counter, then set to work carrying in firewood and building a fire. He definitely knew about using a cozy fire to create a romantic mood. Or, in this case, at least a friendly mood that was devoid of the prevailing tension.
He could not stop the little grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth. They could pull chairs up close to the fire and drink their morning coffee in a setting conducive to conversation. He would be able to change her abject opinion of him. Yes, indeed. He was very pleased with himself and his plan.
When he had finished with the fireplace he went to the kitchen to retrieve his coffee mug. He called to Jessica when he heard her emerge from the bathroom. “Coffee’s ready. Do you take anything in it or is black okay?” He stood poised with the pot in his hand waiting for her answer.
“Oh, my God! What have you done?” Jessica’s cry of alarm filled the air as much as the smell of smoke that quickly replaced the aroma of fresh coffee. It billowed out of the fireplace and into the living room. Her first thought said the cabin was on fire, but before she could act on that assumption she realized it was something else.
Dylan charged across the room toward the fireplace while shouting instructions. “Open the front door and a couple of windows to draw the smoke out.” He snatched the largest logs that had not yet caught fire and dropped them on the hearth. He used the poker and scattered the burning kindling around the fireplace to break up the fire’s fuel. Then he grabbed the bucket of sand he had spotted on the front porch and spread it over what was left of the fire to smother it.
Jessica stepped out to the front porch and took a deep breath of the crisp fresh air. She was not sure exactly what to think. It was obvious to her that he had stupidly left the damper in the chimney closed—too much high living and not enough practical experience with real life. She furrowed her brow in thought as another realization hit her. He had also taken immediate charge of the emergency and handled it with calm efficiency.
She set her jaw into a firm line and shook her head to clear her mind of the unwanted, compromising thought. After all, she had every right to be angry with him for enveloping her cabin in smoke and causing a potential disaster. She stubbornly refused to allow any contradictory thoughts to cloud the issue. She stepped back inside the living room, paused for a moment, then made her way over to the fireplace where Dylan had busied himself cleaning up the mess.
The morning had been filled with more than enough tension, and she was not sure exactly what to think or feel about the events that had already transpired. She knew she had been a little harsh, and possibly even unfair, but she didn’t seem to be able to stop herself. It was as if some sort of self-defense mechanism had automatically kicked in to protect her from the charms of this handsome and far-too-sexy scoundrel.
She tried to prevent any irritation from creeping into her voice. “Apparently you failed to open the damper before starting the fire.”
He straightened and leveled an appraising look at her. Was she challenging him? Accusing him? He did not know how to read her. “I’ve lit more than my share of fires in various fireplaces. I can assure you that I know enough to check. The damper was open.” With that, he turned toward the kitchen and the coffee he had left there.
He glanced back at the fireplace just in time to see her kneel down in front of the hearth and reach for the lever that controlled the damper. A little flicker of satisfaction settled inside him as the sheepish expression covered her face when she looked up and saw him watching her. She brushed her hands against her jeans, then slowly walked across the living room to the kitchen.
Dylan cocked his head and arched an eyebrow. “Well?” He saw the crimson tinge of embarrassment spread across her cheeks. She glanced at the floor before regaining eye contact with him.
“You…uh…you were right. The damper is open. I…uh…well, apparently there’s something else blocking the chimney.”
His sharply clipped words carried an edge of sarcasm. “That’s a safe guess.”
He continued to stare at her, waiting for her to make the next move. She had accused him of not knowing enough to check the damper and doubted his word when he told her it was open, even to the point of checking it for herself. She had no option other than admitting that he had not been responsible for the fiasco.
The entire morning he had been on the receiving end of her disapproval and skepticism. Now that he had finally gained the upper hand over the circumstances, he wasn’t sure he wanted to let her off the hook quite so easily. Things were finally starting to feel a little more comfortable and familiar. He suppressed a grin and settled into the game. It was an interesting situation packed with lots of possibilities. So why was he still feeling a little uneasy…and a lot unsure?
He tried to maintain a stern expression, but it wasn’t easy. Even though his feelings about her were very confused, they certainly were not hostile. He took a quick inventory of the physical attributes of this very enticing woman. A band tightened across his chest, and the heat of desire churned deep inside him. His feelings were definitely not hostile…quite the contrary.
She squirmed uncomfortably for a moment, then visibly pulled her composure together. She squared her shoulders and aimed an unflinching stare at him. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”
He purposely widened his eyes in feigned innocence. “Make what easy for you?” Justin had told him about his sister hating to admit being wrong, that she was very stubborn in that regard. For reasons he could not clearly define, he was enjoying her being on the spot for a change rather than him. It was an interesting moment of pointed banter with the delightful Jessica McGuire.
She