remains of the fire, casting a hellish light in the wide space. She made out Dutch’s long form stretched out on the couch, as magnificent as a dragon sprawled in his fiery lair. Even asleep, danger radiated from him. Holding her breath, she eased across the floor one careful step at a time. Cold seeped through her socks before she finally drew close to the door. She reached cautiously for the knob.
“Going somewhere?”
She jumped violently and spun around. Dutch loomed directly behind her, his expression stony. How in the world had he gotten right up to her without her hearing a thing?
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” she replied bravely.
“Care to tell me where?” Even roughened with sleep, his voice was cool and deadly.
“No, not particularly. I’ve got to get away from my father’s men, and I don’t want to endanger you any more than I already have. I’ll just be going now.” She again reached for the doorknob.
His large hand landed with heavy finality on the door beside her head. “That’s a bad idea,” he murmured. His breath touched her warmly in stark contrast to the chill pouring off him. There it was again. That strange pull between them. Something about this man called out to her, an odd vulnerability within his steel. It made her want to wrap her armsaround him and hold him, even though on another level he scared her to death.
She turned under his arm and stared up at him. His face was an intersecting series of harsh shadows, his eyes pools of black. She ached to reach up and smooth away the frown from his forehead. His fathomless gaze narrowed and sexual awareness abruptly rolled off him. In waves that all but drowned her. His presence was overpowering even though he didn’t move a muscle. He made her feel so small. Fragile. The sensation was thrilling and frightening at the same time. Lord, it was tempting to bury herself in all that strength and masculine appeal. To solve the intriguing mystery that was Jim Dutcher.
“It’s for the best that I go,” she murmured.
“Why’s that?” he asked.
“Do you really have to ask?”
He leaned even closer, his mouth by her ear. His chest all but touched hers, and her breasts tingled at the tantalizing nearness of his body. The lingering remnants of his aftershave smelled warm and sexy.
He murmured in a lover’s endearment, “You’re responsible for my brother’s death. When you called me you had to expect that I’d want to hurt you the same way you hurt me. And it’s not like I came looking for you. But now that you’re here, I’m damn well going to see justice done.”
A icicle of dread speared her. He wanted to hurt her the same way she’d hurt him. Oh. My. God. She’d been right. If he ever found out about Carina, he’d have the perfect tool to do exactly that—kill one sibling for another. She could never let him find out about her fight to save her sister! If he did, he’d do whatever it took to get Carina killed. It would be the perfect revenge.
A violent shudder rippled through her. Pull yourself together! She dared not give away just how scared she was. He’d leap all over her fear and use it to his advantage.
How could she be so drawn to him one second and so afraid of him the next? It made no sense whatsoever.
His other hand landed on the door beside her head, trapping her between his powerful arms. “What aren’t you telling me, Julia? I need to know everything if we’re going to nail Eduardo before he nails you. What is it?” he demanded softly.
She stared at him in dismay. Busted. As usual, he’d read her like an open book. But now she knew she could never answer that question. Ever. She replied, “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want your help.”
She felt him absorb her refusal to answer like a physical blow. She closed her eyes against the pull between them. She felt like a paper clip in the presence of a high-powered magnet. The haven of his care, the companionship of another human being in her
“Going somewhere?”
She jumped violently and spun around. Dutch loomed directly behind her, his expression stony. How in the world had he gotten right up to her without her hearing a thing?
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” she replied bravely.
“Care to tell me where?” Even roughened with sleep, his voice was cool and deadly.
“No, not particularly. I’ve got to get away from my father’s men, and I don’t want to endanger you any more than I already have. I’ll just be going now.” She again reached for the doorknob.
His large hand landed with heavy finality on the door beside her head. “That’s a bad idea,” he murmured. His breath touched her warmly in stark contrast to the chill pouring off him. There it was again. That strange pull between them. Something about this man called out to her, an odd vulnerability within his steel. It made her want to wrap her armsaround him and hold him, even though on another level he scared her to death.
She turned under his arm and stared up at him. His face was an intersecting series of harsh shadows, his eyes pools of black. She ached to reach up and smooth away the frown from his forehead. His fathomless gaze narrowed and sexual awareness abruptly rolled off him. In waves that all but drowned her. His presence was overpowering even though he didn’t move a muscle. He made her feel so small. Fragile. The sensation was thrilling and frightening at the same time. Lord, it was tempting to bury herself in all that strength and masculine appeal. To solve the intriguing mystery that was Jim Dutcher.
“It’s for the best that I go,” she murmured.
“Why’s that?” he asked.
“Do you really have to ask?”
He leaned even closer, his mouth by her ear. His chest all but touched hers, and her breasts tingled at the tantalizing nearness of his body. The lingering remnants of his aftershave smelled warm and sexy.
He murmured in a lover’s endearment, “You’re responsible for my brother’s death. When you called me you had to expect that I’d want to hurt you the same way you hurt me. And it’s not like I came looking for you. But now that you’re here, I’m damn well going to see justice done.”
A icicle of dread speared her. He wanted to hurt her the same way she’d hurt him. Oh. My. God. She’d been right. If he ever found out about Carina, he’d have the perfect tool to do exactly that—kill one sibling for another. She could never let him find out about her fight to save her sister! If he did, he’d do whatever it took to get Carina killed. It would be the perfect revenge.
A violent shudder rippled through her. Pull yourself together! She dared not give away just how scared she was. He’d leap all over her fear and use it to his advantage.
How could she be so drawn to him one second and so afraid of him the next? It made no sense whatsoever.
His other hand landed on the door beside her head, trapping her between his powerful arms. “What aren’t you telling me, Julia? I need to know everything if we’re going to nail Eduardo before he nails you. What is it?” he demanded softly.
She stared at him in dismay. Busted. As usual, he’d read her like an open book. But now she knew she could never answer that question. Ever. She replied, “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want your help.”
She felt him absorb her refusal to answer like a physical blow. She closed her eyes against the pull between them. She felt like a paper clip in the presence of a high-powered magnet. The haven of his care, the companionship of another human being in her
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