Silver Falls - Anne Stuart [78]
“I’m not going in there,” Rachel said, pulling back.
She was far from a lightweight, and scooping her up was no easy task, but years of rough living had made him strong enough to deal with one hundred and thirty pounds or so of squirming female. Hard to unlock the door at the unit on the end, but he managed, turning the knob and kicking it open.
The musty smell spilled out—the place hadn’t been used for a long time. He crossed the room, dumped her on the double bed and then shut the door behind them, bolting and locking it before turning on the lights.
It looked both better and worse than he’d expected. The place was clean enough—just a thin layer of dust on the rabbit-ears television which was probably black and white, and the bedspread looked like something out of the 1950s. The angry woman sitting in the middle of it was the anomaly, and for a moment he didn’t move, looking at her.
Thank God she was pregnant. Because otherwise he’d be hard put to keep his hands off her. Though she’d probably clobber him if he tried. He had to be as crazy as his brother to even notice how attracted he was…
Hell, that wasn’t it. It wasn’t lust pure and simple. Or not so pure, and definitely not so simple. Because he didn’t just want to fuck her absolutely ripe, luscious body. He wanted her quick mind and quicker tongue. He was drawn to her as he’d never been drawn to anyone before, and all he could think was maybe Stephen Henry was right after all and he’d just been deluded. Maybe he was obsessed with her because she was David’s.
Except that he’d had no interest in the meek college librarian David had been dating the last time he came to town. Or the physics teacher several years before.
But Rachel was a different thing altogether, and even looking at her was making him hard.
“You got a problem?” she snarled. “Did I grow another head or something?”
He turned away, pulling the threadbare curtains and the blackout shade. “Just thinking about something else,” he said. Which was true enough. He was thinking about how he could justify touching her, kissing her after he’d kidnapped her, and he was coming up empty.
“So you think I’m just going to do what you say and stay here?” she said when he turned back.
“Well, I could always tie you to the bed. I’d certainly enjoy it, but I don’t know how happy that would make you. If you leave you’ll have a long walk in a deserted part of the country, and there are bears.”
“Don’t try to scare me,” she snapped. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I don’t scare easy.”
“You ever hear the term ‘foolhardy’?” he said.
“You ever hear the term ‘fuck you’?”
“Do you ever stop fighting?”
“Never,” she said, and dove for the door.
He caught her before she could unfasten the chain, spinning her around and pinning her against the solid pine. “I told you not to do that,” he said. He was too close to her, his body pressed up against hers, and he knew he was in deep trouble. He had to fight it, to get the hell away from her before he made a big mistake.
“Haven’t you figured out I don’t listen?” she said, looking at him out of steady eyes.
He didn’t move. Neither did she. They stayed the way they were, pressed up against the door, and he could feel her heart pounding against his through the layers of clothing, and what he saw in her eyes was nothing but wishful thinking on his part, he was crazy, but he was going to kiss her anyway, just kiss her, because he wanted to and what the hell difference would it make?
So he lowered his head and put his mouth against hers.
16
He had her pinned against the door of this shit motel, Rachel thought. And if she had any sense she’d bring her knee up hard enough to send him screaming to the floor, and she’d get enough of a head start. She could even hot-wire his car if he didn’t leave the keys in there, and if she couldn’t she could disappear into the woods and to hell with the bears, and then he lowered his head and she