Annie and the Outlaw by Sharon Sala

Author:Sharon Sala [Sala, Sharon]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Motorcyclists, Fiction, General, Romance, Contemporary
ISBN: 9780373075973
Google: XIs78m8_ML0C
Amazon: 0373075979
Publisher: Silhouette Books
Published: 1994-09-01T22:00:00+00:00

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Chapter 8

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Dawn was a thought on the horizon as Gabe finally wheeled the Harley into Annie's yard. After missing turns and once even taking the wrong highway in the dark, he'd misjudged the time it would take him to get back.

He slipped off his helmet and hung it on the handlebar, as the motor coughed and died. After hours and hours with the sound of the wind and the roar of the engine in his ears, the sudden silence seemed like a warning.

In one motion he put the kickstand in place and swung his leg up and over, dismounting from the bike as he'd always dismounted from his horse. The rowels on his spurs jingled once as he took a step away from the bike and stared silently up the path that led to the house.

It looked the same. Nothing seemed ominous … or out of place. But if that was so, then why did he have this overpowering feeling of dread? What made him think he might already be too late?

Gabe glanced down at himself, realizing as he did that he probably looked like hell. A day's worth of black, spiky whiskers and twenty-four hours on the back of a bike would do little toward making him presentable. But a bath and a shave would have to wait until he'd seen her … until she'd laughed in his face at his fears and cursed him for coming back just to say goodbye again.

He walked around the bush at the edge of the yard, heading for the path that led to the front door. His heart skipped a beat as he saw the light on at the back of the house.

"She can't be up already." He glanced down at his watch and squinted as he tried to read the luminous dial. It wasn't quite 5:00 a.m.

But he remembered the pain on her face as he'd ridden away, and the knot in his own gut at saying goodbye, and decided that she, like him, had probably just suffered a sleepless night.

Even though he'd already answered all his own questions, he still felt a need to hurry. Just to make sure that she was all right.

If she's so all right, then why in hell hasn't she come out to meet me?

He stopped at the door and knocked. Nearly a minute went by without a response, so he knocked again, and this time he called her name aloud. Twice. Nothing happened. No one came.

"Annie, damn it, where are you?" he muttered. "Okay … maybe you left the light on by mistake."

If she was asleep in her bed, checking that theory before barreling into the house seemed the sensible thing to do.

With that thought in mind, he ignored the steps and turned the corner at the side of the house on the run. Destination: kitchen window.

A faint beam of light poured out of the window and into the night, cutting the ground in a butter-colored, geometric pattern.

He leaned forward, bracing himself against the outer wall as he peered through the narrow gap between the curtain panels.

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