Bodyguard Rescue. Donna YoungЧитать онлайн книгу.
together. Placing another human being in jeopardy, even a questionable one like D’Amato, went against her nature.
She hugged her arms tight to her chest, knowing she wasn’t in any shape to do any more strategizing tonight. Under the quilt she rubbed her arms with her hands. In the few minutes by the window, the tremors had stopped, leaving her legs feeling quite a bit steadier, but the iciness still lingered deep within her joints. It would, she was sure, until her nightmare ended.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Kate stiffened at the militant tone. He’d missed his calling when he’d chosen computer consulting over the Navy as a career. Well, she wasn’t a subordinate he could order about. Relaxing her features, she planted a wide smile on her stiff lips and swung around.
“Looking outside,” she said, being deliberately obtuse.
The light from the kitchen flooded the living room, allowing her to see every harsh, irritated angle of his face. Her smile almost faltered.
Up to an hour ago no one had ever seen her fall apart, not even her family. She would be damned if she let it happen again.
Roman walked toward the couch, a coffee mug in his hand, his eyes narrowing as they took in every detail. The dark brown of his irises reminded her of tarnished copper, flecked and ringed with gold she knew turned molten amber with anger or desire.
Now they glinted with suppressed annoyance.
“You look like hell, Doc.” Deftly he placed the mug on the end table, and in two strides he was standing in front of her.
She had a good idea what she looked like. She’d caught a glimpse of her image in the rearview mirror of her sports car, right before she deliberately drove it into a ravine. The dark smudges. The pale skin. “Thanks, I wish I could return the compliment,” she retorted, not trying to hide her sarcasm.
Almost forty, Roman was in better physical condition than most males half his age. The man oozed masculinity, not that it surprised her. His broad shoulders, well defined under his dark T-shirt, tapered to a lean, narrow waist. A worn pair of blue jeans sheathed his muscular thighs. Her eyes followed the snug fit, setting off a heat in Kate’s stomach. Uncomfortable, she forced her gaze back to his face.
He kept his dark, curling hair longer then she remembered, with the ends brushing casually against his shirt collar. The thick mane now showed signs of silver shimmering in its depths, but instead of detracting from his looks, it added to the rugged hardness of his features.
Distracted, she missed the determination reflected in those same features until it was too late. Before she realized his intention, she was off the floor and against his chest.
“Stupido,” he muttered over her head.
Stupid. Nobody called her stupid. She tried to escape his iron grip, but the covers acted as a cocoon, thwarting her attempts. Furious, she resorted to verbal abuse, calling him every vile name she’d learned from her brothers over the years.
“Shut up.” The words were clipped, their sting sharp enough to cause her to flinch. “I can’t believe you kiss your mother with that mouth.” He dumped her onto the couch and stood away, his hands on his hips. “When’s the last time you ate?”
She blinked. Ate? When was the last time she ate? Long before the phone call from Marcus…
“Never mind.” He let out a sigh and shoved the cup toward her, forcing Kate to drop the quilt to grab it. The warmth from the ceramic felt good against her cold hands.
“Drink.” He squatted in front of her. “It’s canned, but it’ll do.”
Irritated, she hastily sipped the warm broth, not really tasting it. “I’m—”
“All of it,” he commanded, placing his hands over hers before lifting the mug to her lips again. Inwardly seething over his high-handed approach but afraid he would notice her hand trembling beneath his, Kate drank most of the soup in one gulp.
It slid down easily. So easily in fact, she disregarded the vague, bitter taste it left behind on her tongue. Vegetable. She should have guessed. Cain was addicted to vegetable soup.
The warmth filled her stomach, then slowly mushroomed through her body, diminishing some of the hollowness and leaving her strangely comforted. She smothered a yawn.
With a soft grunt of satisfaction, Roman stepped away. He took the iron poker and stoked the fire. “What are you doing here, Doc?” he asked, glancing her way.
She paused, just a fraction. The lift of his eyebrow indicated he saw her hesitation. The man was too perceptive. With a shrug, she managed to say, “Taking a break from work.”
Roman regarded her, his gaze burrowing into hers. Seconds ticked away while Kate, refusing to fill the uncomfortable silence, waited with what she hoped was a blank look. He could wait until the next ice age as far as she was concerned. It didn’t matter Cain trusted this man. It didn’t matter that her parents loved him. She wouldn’t. Ever.
“Let’s try again.” He returned the iron to its stand and leaned against the fireplace brick. “What are you doing here?”
She wasn’t fooled. His tone was friendly, even mildly pleasant, but the man was angry. Not seething, but infuriated enough to harden his jaw. Why?
“I’m on vacation,” she replied, shocked at how easily the lie slipped over her tongue. “I wanted time to myself and decided to use my brother’s cabin. When I called Cain, his secretary said he was out of town indefinitely.” She waved a hand in the air. “Some overseas business complication.”
“So you decided to come anyway, is that it?”
Kate glared down the censure in his eyes. “That’s it.”
“What about the attack?”
“What about it?” she returned, covering the defensiveness by setting her mug on the end table and gathering the covers around her. “My nerves are shot from working too hard, and I certainly didn’t expect to be scared out of my mind by you creeping around.” She eyed him shrewdly. “What’s your story?”
“The same, it appears. Cain loaned me the cabin because I wanted to relax and do some fishing, since I’m in between projects.” One shoulder rose in a negligent motion. “I thought you were some local kids trying a hand at vandalism.”
“Quite a coincidence,” she murmured. What were the odds? It went against her nature as a scientist to believe in coincidences.
“That would explain how you opened the locked door so easily. Cain must’ve given you his key. I took the spare from under the porch.” She frowned. “When did you talk to my brother?”
“A few days ago,” he said, then changed the subject. “It still doesn’t make sense.”
A sharp thwack sounded against the outside wall of the cabin and Kate jumped. Cautiously, Roman straightened from the hearth and lifted the curtain. Kate watched in tense silence as he studied the outside, a short prayer whispering through her mind. A second thump sent a small cry of alarm from her lips. “Roman.”
He let the curtain drop back into place. “It’s just a tree branch, Doc.” As he spoke, he started toward her. “But this proves my point. We both know you’re more of the moonlit-beach, soft-breeze and Calypso-band type. So why choose the wilderness?”
Because it was the safest place to hide. “Because I wanted a complete change.” Uncomfortable with his prodding, she decided to switch the subject. “What makes you an expert on my likes and dislikes?” she quipped. He was right, of course. She would’ve traded anything to be lounging dreamily on a nice, flat beach right now, free of her nightmare. Trade anything, that is, except millions of innocent lives.
“I know you.” Leaning over, he placed one long finger under her chin and tipped her face up toward his. “Better than you know yourself.”
There