Silver Falls - Anne Stuart [26]
She was just beginning to breathe naturally, and common sense came back in a rush. Of course he didn’t want to kill her—he had the perfect chance and instead he’d pulled her back. Besides, what possible reason would he have to want to hurt her?
Unless of course he was a serial killer. And in that case, she was a sturdy redhead in her thirties, not a young, willowy blonde, and therefore safe.
“So, have you decided? Do you want to keep sitting in the mud or do you want to go somewhere and get dried off?”
“Where?” She didn’t trust him, but they were at a standstill.
“My place. It’s not far—”
“You live up here?”
“On the rare occasion when I’m in the States, yes. Where else would I live? My brother isn’t about to welcome me with open arms and Stephen Henry and I do best with a polite distance between us. I’d offer you my hand but you’d probably bite it. Get to your feet on your own and you can come and get warm.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Spoken like a redhead,” he said. “Though, right now you looked more like a drowned kitten than a mother lion. If you try to walk down the mountain in your condition you’re likely to fall and twist your ankle. Even if you kept upright you wouldn’t make it to your daughter’s school by three o’clock, and I’m sure that’s what you had in mind. If you come back to my place and dry off I’ll give you a ride to your car and you’ll be there in time.”
She tried to ignore the sudden ice in the pit of her stomach. “How do you know when my daughter gets out of school?”
“I grew up here, remember? School has always let out at three. And you better move quick—I’m not going to stand out here forever, waiting for you to make up your mind.”
He was right—it was late. As usual, time had gotten away from her. Rachel scrambled to her feet with as much dignity as she could muster, keeping a wary eye on him in case he made any sudden moves.
“I’d appreciate a lift into town,” she said. “I can dry off there.”
“We can argue about it once we’re out of the rain. I don’t suppose you want to hold on to me while we climb down there? It’s a little rough.”
“I’ll follow you,” she said, wary. “If you tell me how you happened to be up here just as I was about to fall into the water.”
“I could say it was fate, but the fact is you’re about as delicate a climber as a grizzly bear, and I could see the bushes moving as you thrashed your way up here. I came out to see who was tearing up the hillside—hell, maybe I’d catch the killer at work. You’re just lucky I was curious, or you might be floating down the stream like an elderly Ophelia.”
“Elderly?” she said, furious.
“Ophelia was around Juliet’s age—fifteen or sixteen. I believe you’re well past that.”
“Fuck you. Maybe I’ll push you into the falls just for the hell of it. Even if you aren’t the serial killer, you’re no great gift to society. My husband would probably thank me.”
“Yes,” he said, amused. “He probably would.” He spread his arms out. “Give it your best shot.”
The last thing she wanted to do was put her hands on him. “I’m not going to bother. Sooner or later some irate husband will blow a hole in you.”
“The only married woman I’m interested in is you.”
She froze. He was looking at her out of those sharp, dark eyes, and illogical as it was, she believed him. She just wasn’t sure why.
The rain had stopped, at least for the moment, and she looked at the path she’d used. If she hurried, she might make it in time, without subjecting herself to any more time in Caleb Middleton’s uncomfortable presence.
But she couldn’t put Sophie at risk. “Stop talking and show me where your car is,” she said, keeping her voice clipped and unemotional.
The faint hint of a smile played at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, ma’am. Follow me.” He disappeared into the woods, and she hesitated. He disturbed her, on every level, and willingly putting herself in his company felt like a very bad idea. The only