State of Emergency by Cassie Miles

Author:Cassie Miles
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

In the uncertain illumination of moonlight through the windows of the Lomax cabin, Emily couldn’t see Jordan’s expression clearly, but she felt the palpable hostility emanating from him in waves. Big waves. Tidal waves.

She wanted to talk with him, but the atmosphere she needed was one of warmth and safety. Emily definitely wasn’t looking for a fight.

“All right,” he said in a cold, controlled voice. “Why was it so damn important for me to come here with you?”

“Would you please calm down?”

“I could’ve been miles down the road, Emily. Answer my question.”

“I wish I could. If I had a simple—”

“Moof?” Pookie interrupted. The dog approached Jordan, slinking across the carpet and whapping his long tail on the carpet like a metronome with a cockeyed beat. At Jordan’s feet, Pookie flipped to his back and presented his belly to the acknowledged Alpha male in a canine gesture of subservience. Apparently, Jordan was the leader of their little wolf pack.

He squatted down, gave the puppy his pats, then stood again, not in the least distracted by Pookie’s display of slavish loyalty. “Come on, Emily. What’s going on?”

“Not like this,” she said. He was too hostile. What happened to his desire to live forever in the glow of her eyes and the sweet fullness of her breasts? “I can’t talk to you when you’re acting like you want to rip my face off. This is the wrong atmosphere.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” he drawled, “because I’m fresh out of champagne and roses.”

“Candlelight,” she said, moving toward the backpack she’d left in the kitchen earlier. “We could have candlelight.”

He followed, caught her arm and whirled her around to face him. “This isn’t a game. If I’m caught, I’ll lose my freedom. Maybe my life.”

“But at Spence’s house, you were—”

“We had a few minutes to relax. But that time is gone. I need to make tracks before first light. Why did you want me here?”

“Maybe I made a mistake.” In the pale night glow through the kitchen windows, she stared at his cool, handsome face. With a fresh set of clothes and a shave, he looked like he belonged with the jet-setters in Aspen. Not here with her. “I’ve never talked about my father, and for some reason I don’t understand, I confided in you. I thought you might be some kind of key to my memories.”

“Me?”

“Obviously, I was wrong. You have just about as much sensitivity as a backhoe.”

He held out his hand, palm up. “Give me the candle. We’re going to talk.”

“Forget it. I wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

“I don’t have time for sarcasm,” he said. “We need to find a place in this house where we can light a candle and not have the light show through to the outside.”

Unlike the downstairs rooms, the upstairs bedrooms in the Lomax cabin had shades and curtains. She directed him to the guest bedroom where she’d spent the night on one occasion when Sandra needed her.

Jordan secured the window coverings, making sure the flicker of their candle would not be visible to anyone outside.

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