The Bounty Hunter's Forbidden Desire. Jean Pichon ThomasЧитать онлайн книгу.
Like most motels, there was little to distinguish it. Clean and impersonal. And, as promised, just one bed.
Chase had brought his athletic bag in from the car. A wary Haley watched him place it on the desk chair, open it and remove a tube of toothpaste and an unopened toothbrush.
“Here,” he said, holding them out to her.
She hesitated to accept them.
“Go on, take them. I have a spare toothbrush for me.”
“Thank you,” she murmured coolly, taking the two items.
She watched him cross to the bathroom and spread the door wide, his hand reaching around the jamb for the light switch. He looked inside without going in. He’s checking to make sure I can’t get out.
He must have been satisfied, because he stepped to one side, sweeping a hand in the direction of the open doorway. “You take it first.”
Chase could have given her a little more room to enter—but he didn’t. The man knew that any contact with him, even a slight one, made her nervous.
“And don’t lock the door behind you,” he called after her. “Unless you want me busting in there on you.”
Jerk!
Even if she’d wanted to escape, Haley realized she couldn’t have managed it. The solitary frosted window was too high and too small. She used the toilet, cleaned up at the sink and brushed her teeth.
When she emerged from the bathroom, he was seated on the edge of the bed. “Join me,” he said, patting the spread on his side. “Come on. You’re safe.”
She wasn’t so sure of that, but she didn’t want him to think she was afraid of him. Nervous, yes, but not afraid. She sauntered over to the bed. He’d left room for her between himself and the railed footboard. She perched on the spot, making sure to leave several inches between them.
“I have a little job for you,” he said before she could ask him why he wanted her sitting here. “Something to keep you occupied while I take my own turn in the john.”
That’s when she noticed he had the plastic sack she’d brought in from the car. Turning it upside down between them, he dumped its mystery contents out on the spread.
“I’m afraid it’s the only supper we get. You get to divide it out for us.”
This was the explanation for his long absence in the motel office. There must have been snack and soda machines in there. It looked as if he’d bought at least two of everything.
“And while you divide and I visit the john...”
The hateful handcuffs, of course. She should have realized he wouldn’t leave her alone in here without cuffing her to something. In this case, it was the footboard rail, leaving her with one hand to divide the haul and the other hand secured and useless.
She was half-afraid that when Chase reappeared a little later, he would be stripped down to his underwear, ready for bed. Or something more extreme. Because there was the possibility he was in the habit of sleeping in the raw, in which case... Well, in other circumstances, that might have been an interesting, even enjoyable spectacle. But not in her current situation, even if she still didn’t feel afraid of sharing a room with a stranger.
As it was, she needn’t have been concerned. He was fully dressed when he walked out of the bathroom. And eager.
“Time to eat!”
Haley rattled the handcuffs. “Do I rate both hands for that?”
“You do.”
He unlocked the cuffs from her wrist and the rail, pocketing them along with the key. Together, they carried their separate piles of food to a table beside the front window, seating themselves in chairs across from each other.
“Not exactly a nutritious meal,” Chase apologized, “but it’s the best the chef could manage.”
The machines he’d taken advantage of in the motel office had provided packaged crackers filled with cheese and peanut butter, nuts, chocolate bars and cans of cold soda.
“I was thinking,” Haley said, biting into one of the cheese crackers, “that since there’s only the one bed, and since you need the rest more than I do, why don’t I curl up in the easy chair there?”
His slow reply couldn’t have been more wry if he’d rehearsed it beforehand. “Now that’s a plan.”
“You didn’t let me finish. Naturally, you aren’t going to just turn me loose.”
“Naturally. How do you recommend we handle that?”
“You can handcuff me to the pole of the floor lamp.”
“Right. Problem with that is, I can see you walking out of here in the middle of the night dragging the floor lamp with you. Maybe even managing to flag down a lift from a truck going south on the freeway. Bet you could even invent a believable story for the driver just why you happen to be attached to a lamp.”
She adopted an injured tone. “I was only thinking of your comfort.”
“And I’m touched by that. But this is how it’s going to be, Haley. You’re going to be attached to me, my right wrist to your left. Both of us flat on the bed side by side, not under the covers but safely on top of them. Hope you can sleep on your back. What do you think?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Hey, if you’re worried about seduction, you can relax. Any other time I’d be happy to oblige, but tonight all I’m interested in are some hours of solid sleep. The only thing we’ll be removing are our shoes.”
She might have believed him...if his gaze wasn’t fastened on her mouth as if he’d like to own it before he took possession of a few other areas of her body. And to her surprise, she realized she might not mind.
* * *
As it turned out, Haley couldn’t accuse him of not behaving himself. He fell instantly and deeply asleep and remained that way. She, on the other hand, didn’t behave herself. Not emotionally, anyway.
She wasn’t happy with herself for the way she was letting him affect her. His necessary nearness to her on the bed had her far too aware of the disturbing heat of his hard body. Conscious, too, of the distinctive, masculine scent of him.
Not happy, no.
Haley didn’t expect to sleep at all. She kept picturing what she had discovered when he’d leaned toward her during the latest cuffing. He had a small scar on the outside corner of his right eye. Funny she hadn’t noticed it before then.
She could see it now just by turning her head in his direction. It was a roguish thing, the kind of souvenir a scoundrel would get in a duel.
What is wrong with you? You’ve been reading too many pirate novels.
This was ridiculous. She turned her head away from the tempting sight of him, shut her eyes and willed herself to relax. It took a while, but eventually she drifted off.
Haley had no idea how long she slept, but when she came awake, the first thing she did was check on her captor. He was still hard asleep, breathing softly. Without any evidence of snoring, she was pleased to note. The lamp on his bedside table continued to burn.
What time was it, anyway? She glanced at the watch on her unrestrained right wrist. It was probably an hour or so until sunup. She’d slept longer than she had imagined.
If it hadn’t been for that breathing, the rhythmic, slow rise and fall of his broad chest, she might have thought he had died on her in the night. Because there was no