Читать книгу Into The Fire - Anne Stuart - Страница 11

J amie considered herself riddled with flaws, but cowardice wasn’t one of them. Yes, she wanted to get the hell out of there rather than confront the past and the possibly unpalatable truth about Nate, but fate, or her mother, had decreed otherwise. She was stuck here for at least a couple of days, and she wasn’t going to spend that time avoiding Dillon. Besides, the bigger a pain in the butt she was, the more motivated he’d be to help her leave.

She shoved her hair back from her face and straightened to her full height. She was too short, almost a foot shorter than Dillon, and she always thought that he would have been easier to deal with if he didn’t tower over her. He thought he could bury his head inside a car engine and ignore her, but she was about to disabuse him of that notion. She was going to be a total pest until she got out of there.

She opened the door to the cavernous garage and was immediately assaulted by noise, a vast rumbling that had been almost completely muffled. She closed the door behind her and began to sort through the cacophony. The rush of white noise was actually some kind of space heater, spewing hot air into the vast expanse of the room. The music was loud, too, Nirvana, Jamie suspected, though she’d never been that fond of the group. But Dillon had always favored the raw-pain sound of Kurt Cobain.

Beneath it all was the rumble and roar of a car engine, punctuated with the steady sound of a hammer on metal. And then a stream of curses as Dillon emerged from beneath the hood of the Duesenberg.

She’d half hoped to watch him for a bit without him realizing she was there, but he honed right in on her, his eyes narrowing. It was too loud to do anything other than shout, and Dillon wasn’t about to bother raising his voice. He simply disappeared back beneath the hood of the old car, leaving Jamie with two choices. She could go back into the kitchen and wait. Or she could go over there and make him talk to her.

The kitchen option sounded immensely appealing, but Jamie was made of sterner stuff than that. She wasn’t about to turn off the heat—her sojourn in the alleyway still hadn’t worn off completely—but she could put a stop to the cacophony blaring from the huge stereo system.