Tying the Knot by Susan May Warren Page B

won’t hurt you.”
    She flinched, and for a desperate moment, he saw something vivid and painful flash in her eyes.
    “I don’t get it,” he said. “I hardly know you, yet you’re shaking like I’m Jack the Ripper.” He closed his fists in his pockets, willing himself not to reach out to her. Her broken look told him she needed the comfort, but his gut said she’d flatten him faster than Joe Louis would.
    “Well, just maybe it has something to do with the ‘hardly know you’ part.”
    Her sudden sarcasm felt like a knife in Noah’s ribs. “Okay,” he said, “so we’ll get to know each other, be friends—”
    “Not on this side of eternity.” She whirled and stalked toward her SUV. “I’m sorry. I’m not doing this.”
    He was hot on her heels. “What do you mean? Okay, you don’t have to show up until Saturday. It’s not like I’m going to need a nurse between now and then.” He didn’t mention the fact that he felt like he was bleeding from a hundred tiny cuts. “After that, it gets easy. You don’t even have to talk to me. All you have to do is hang out for the summer in this incredibly gorgeous place, patch up the kids when they fall, administer cold packs now and then. How hard can that be?”
    “Not hard.”
    “Then what is it?” He braced his hand on the door of her Explorer as she tried to open it.
    She looked up at him, and the smallest hint of pure terror entered her eyes. “Get away from me.”
    Anger bubbled into his chest as he recognized the expression on her face, the set of her jaw. This wasn’t fear—it was prejudice. She didn’t want to help him because she believed everything she saw on the outside and refused to see beyond her preconceptions. He fought the same disease with the kids on the street. Ignoring her dark look, he edged in. “You don’t even care that the kids won’t have a camp, do you?”
    She narrowed her eyes. “I do care. But how can I work for—”
    “Someone like me?” His voice raised in challenge.
    Her eyes sparked. “Yes.” She crossed her arms.
    “You know only what you see. Not who I am.”
    “I see a man who nearly ran me down last night. That tells me all I need to know.”
    “You saw a man who wanted to introduce himself properly. A man who cared that you were going to be spending the summer with him. A man who saw in you potential and hope.”
    “A man who wanted to use me to get money.”
    He closed his eyes, looked away. “I’m sorry.” He cupped a hand around his sweaty neck. “You’re right. I didn’t consider your feelings. I just assumed you’d want to help.” He turned back and saw that she’d raised her chin, a give-me-a-big-stick expression in her simmering eyes. “Please forgive me.”
    She tightened her glare, but moisture glistened in her eyes. So, Miss Tough-as-Steel had a heart under that polished veneer.
    Suddenly, she yanked open her SUV door and dove inside.
    He remembered her cold stare long after she’d gunned the motor and raced down the gravel road.

4
    Anne’s SUV spit gravel as she floored it around Mink Lake. What had the trauma counselor told her? Deep, calming breaths. Physical reaction to emotional invasion was typical.
    Despite the fact that Noah had seemed . . . well . . . kind . . . even desperate in his attempts to keep her calm, her heart pounded out a staccato rhythm of pure fear. Slave labor. Someone was going to hear about his attempts to use her, and in about twenty minutes she planned to rip her resume out of Dr. Simpson’s hands and head it for—
    Where? Deep Haven had always conjured up feelings of peace and refuge. She needed that in her life more than she needed her self-respect.
    But she wouldn’t stay there with him. In a nightmarish, backwoods tangle of shadows and sounds ten miles from the nearest telephone? No way. His words rang in her ears: A man who wanted to introduce himself properly. Who cared that you were going to be spending the summer with