normal.
The chair legs scraped the floor as she pushed her chair back and all but bolted from the table. Stacy scrambled upstairs to play. Damien pushed his half-empty plate away and only sat there, watching her. Self-conscious, Laurie handled the post dinner cleanup. Quit staring , she ordered Damien silently. The back of her neck prickled. His eyes seemed to drill holes in the back of her skull. Intensely aware of him, she slammed the frying pan into the sink. Soapy water splashed on her.
“Shit,” she muttered, her stomach jittery. “The man is making me crazy.”
She scowled at their reflections in the darkened window. October nights came early in the mountains. She shoved the pan into the dish rack, drained the sink, and tried to dry her hands on her damp shirt. To avoid even looking at him, she prepared the coffee pot for morning use.
ALWAYS A WARRIOR Patricia Bruening
26
Damien fidgeted impatiently behind her. Let him wait! She stood by the sink, staring out window into the dark woods.
“Laurie,” he said with quiet intensity.
She ignored him, refused to face him despite the soft caress of his voice in her ears. He could say nothing she wanted to hear. She had given in to desire once before and nearly ruined her life. She had built a secure world for herself and Stacy. There was no room for anyone else, no room for more heartache.
“Talk to me, Laurie,” he said directly behind her as his strong hands gently covered her shoulders.
Startled, she flinched hard. He moved so silently, like a ghost. She sighed, turned, and he dropped his hands. The warmth of his touch lingered and flowed into her. She tilted her head, peered into his eyes. Desire blazed in those dark chocolate depths. An answering heat rose in her and she leaned back against the sink. He moved closer, crowding her. She flattened her hands on his hard chest in a tentative push.
“No, Damien,” she said as she moved aside. “We can’t. I can’t. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I shouldn’t have .…” Her voice trailed off. His steady probing stare held hers. Disconcerted, she averted her gaze over his shoulder.
He frowned. “What’s wrong? You did what you wanted to do.” He leaned a hip on the edge of the sink. Grasping her chin loosely, he urged her to look at him. “What do you want?”
You , she thought in automatic response and drowned in his eyes. She barely managed not to say it.
“I just want to get through the next few days with my sanity intact.” She looked at him in confusion. She was here. This was her life, but she did not recognize it. She sighed. “I feel like I’ve been dumped into the location of a Hollywood action movie without a script. Next I’m supposed to fall madly in love with my rescuer.”
To her surprise, he laughed. A spark of amusement lit his eyes. His hearty laughter boomed around the room and infected her so she grinned at him.
“Well, in all the movies, the heroine ends up in bed with the hero at some point.” He paused and the brief humor faded. “The terrorists are still moving. We haven’t located them yet.”
“So they could be anywhere, doing anything,” she surmised, gnawing on her lower lip.
“What are we going to do?”
“As long as we’re here, I’m going to teach you to defend yourself,” he said. His tone forbade argument. He scowled and his eyes were very dark and impenetrable.
Learn to fight , she thought skeptically then conceded the merits of the idea. It wouldn’t hurt to learn to defend herself and Stacy. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you to do it.” His uncompromising stare bored into her.
She nodded slowly, thoughtfully, as she crossed the room. She sank onto the mattress of the sofa bed. Damien straddled the chair at the end of the table, leaning his arms across the back.
He studied her intently, silently, as though trying to fathom her depths.
The chair legs scraped the floor as she pushed her chair back and all but bolted from the table. Stacy scrambled upstairs to play. Damien pushed his half-empty plate away and only sat there, watching her. Self-conscious, Laurie handled the post dinner cleanup. Quit staring , she ordered Damien silently. The back of her neck prickled. His eyes seemed to drill holes in the back of her skull. Intensely aware of him, she slammed the frying pan into the sink. Soapy water splashed on her.
“Shit,” she muttered, her stomach jittery. “The man is making me crazy.”
She scowled at their reflections in the darkened window. October nights came early in the mountains. She shoved the pan into the dish rack, drained the sink, and tried to dry her hands on her damp shirt. To avoid even looking at him, she prepared the coffee pot for morning use.
ALWAYS A WARRIOR Patricia Bruening
26
Damien fidgeted impatiently behind her. Let him wait! She stood by the sink, staring out window into the dark woods.
“Laurie,” he said with quiet intensity.
She ignored him, refused to face him despite the soft caress of his voice in her ears. He could say nothing she wanted to hear. She had given in to desire once before and nearly ruined her life. She had built a secure world for herself and Stacy. There was no room for anyone else, no room for more heartache.
“Talk to me, Laurie,” he said directly behind her as his strong hands gently covered her shoulders.
Startled, she flinched hard. He moved so silently, like a ghost. She sighed, turned, and he dropped his hands. The warmth of his touch lingered and flowed into her. She tilted her head, peered into his eyes. Desire blazed in those dark chocolate depths. An answering heat rose in her and she leaned back against the sink. He moved closer, crowding her. She flattened her hands on his hard chest in a tentative push.
“No, Damien,” she said as she moved aside. “We can’t. I can’t. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I shouldn’t have .…” Her voice trailed off. His steady probing stare held hers. Disconcerted, she averted her gaze over his shoulder.
He frowned. “What’s wrong? You did what you wanted to do.” He leaned a hip on the edge of the sink. Grasping her chin loosely, he urged her to look at him. “What do you want?”
You , she thought in automatic response and drowned in his eyes. She barely managed not to say it.
“I just want to get through the next few days with my sanity intact.” She looked at him in confusion. She was here. This was her life, but she did not recognize it. She sighed. “I feel like I’ve been dumped into the location of a Hollywood action movie without a script. Next I’m supposed to fall madly in love with my rescuer.”
To her surprise, he laughed. A spark of amusement lit his eyes. His hearty laughter boomed around the room and infected her so she grinned at him.
“Well, in all the movies, the heroine ends up in bed with the hero at some point.” He paused and the brief humor faded. “The terrorists are still moving. We haven’t located them yet.”
“So they could be anywhere, doing anything,” she surmised, gnawing on her lower lip.
“What are we going to do?”
“As long as we’re here, I’m going to teach you to defend yourself,” he said. His tone forbade argument. He scowled and his eyes were very dark and impenetrable.
Learn to fight , she thought skeptically then conceded the merits of the idea. It wouldn’t hurt to learn to defend herself and Stacy. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you to do it.” His uncompromising stare bored into her.
She nodded slowly, thoughtfully, as she crossed the room. She sank onto the mattress of the sofa bed. Damien straddled the chair at the end of the table, leaning his arms across the back.
He studied her intently, silently, as though trying to fathom her depths.
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