Читать книгу Northern Renegade - JENNIFER LABRECQUE - Страница 11

“GOT ANY PLANS?” Bull asked as they stepped outside. A truck with more rust than actual body parts passed and Bull automatically waved. It was that kind of town.

“Thought I’d just chill for a while.” The words almost stuck in his throat. He had no purpose. He was rudderless. He was well acquainted with stillness and quietness of being—it had been vital to his job. This was different. He’d be damned if he knew what to do with himself.

Bull nodded. “Think you might be interested in some seasonal construction work? Sven Sorenson can always use an extra set of hands, and he’s up to his eyeballs in work these days.”

“Is it hard labor?”

“It can be.”

“Then count me in.” He needed to work himself into exhaustion. Maybe then he could actually sleep at night.

The airstrip/bed-and-breakfast door opened and the woman from the booth, the woman who’d seemed to sink into him—Tansy—stepped out onto the sidewalk.

“See you later,” she called over her shoulder, closing the door behind her.

Both Bull and Liam stopped, but the sun must have been in her eyes, because she walked right into Liam. Instinctively he grabbed her to deflect the impact.

Every sense inside him went on high alert, which translated to everything slowing down to utter awareness. The wind from the northeast carried her scent of woman—vanilla and a hint of spice. Her skin was soft and warm beneath his hands, her flesh firm to his touch. Her eyes, somewhere between blue and almost purple, widened behind her glasses in surprise and a flash of recognition.

Something wild and hot sprang between them. Liam wasn’t used to wild and hot. It wasn’t his modus operandi. He did only a controlled heat. Her eyes widened even more and he felt a tremor chase through her. She recognized it as well, and he fully suspected it was outside her normal range, too.

He released her.

She dropped her gaze.

“Thank you.”

Her voice, low, husky and damned sexy resonated through him. What the hell was wrong with him? What was it with this woman?

“Steady there,” Bull said from his side, ending his loss of composure. He’d totally forgotten Bull was even there. Crap. “Tansy, meet Liam Reinhardt, my nephew. Liam, this is Tansy Wellington.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said automatically. He didn’t offer his hand and neither did she. It seemed unnecessary, considering they’d already touched. And because he wanted so badly to touch her again, he wouldn’t.

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” There was a softness to her that made him want to taste her. The thought crossed his mind that her honeyed sweetness might mitigate some of the bitterness and anger inside him. He pushed aside the notion. “I hear you just got into town,” he said.

She smiled and it knocked him for yet another loop, lighting her face and transforming her from ordinary to extraordinary in the blink of an eye. “I just arrived last week. I’m not one of the regulars.”

“So I hear.”

“You’ll both find,” Bull said, “that news travels faster than the speed of light here.”

Her laugh held the same husky sexiness that made him think of lying in bed with her, both of them naked. That and the way her T-shirt clung to the roundness of her breasts and followed the curve of her waist to her full hips.

“I understand we’re going to be neighbors,” she said.

What the hell? “We are?” Liam looked to Bull.

“Janie—” God, his mother hated that name, preferring the more formal Jane “—gave us the heads-up you were heading this way. Me and Merilee figured you’d want a little privacy, so we made arrangements for you to stay in one of the cabins at Shadow Lake, outside of town. Tansy’s staying in the other cabin.” Bull looked at Tansy. “Nice place, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “It’s beautiful. The cabins overlook a lake surrounded by mountains.”

He could almost feel her encroaching on him. She painted a scene of tranquillity at odds with the seething inside him. He wanted solitude to embrace his anger, not dispel it. He didn’t want to be seduced by her dulcet tones, her ripeness, her sweetness. He wanted distance from her. “How many cabins are there?” he said to Bull, knowing damn well he was bordering on rude.

“Only the two. They belonged to two old maids who built them next to one another. They’re within spitting distance. There’s even a crude intercom system that was left in place. Sven just overhauled them a couple of months ago. They’re nice enough, but not fussy. It should suit your needs.”

How the hell would Bull know what his needs were when he wasn’t even sure of them? All he knew was that he needed to be alone and he needed time. But how could he be alone, with this woman right next door?

As if he’d gained some inside track on what was going through Liam’s head, Bull added, “Trust me on this.”

If there was anyone in this world, other than his twin, whom he trusted, it was Bull Swenson. He looked at Tansy Wellington standing there in the sunshine.

He was in trouble.…

TANSY SETTLED IN on the couch with her laptop. A small desk sat against one wall, but she preferred propping her feet on the coffee table and working from there. It wasn’t exactly balmy outside. She’d thrown on a cardigan over her T-shirt and would start up the potbellied stove in a bit. She loved the smell of wood smoke against the crispness of the autumn evenings here. For now, the front door stood open, with the screen door guarding against bugs and anything that might wander up.

She would get to work. She would power through this. Five minutes later she’d gotten a big fat nowhere. And now instead of Bradley burning into her brain, she had both Bradley and Liam occupying that space. Actually, Liam was pushing Bradley to the background.

She sighed, frustrated with herself, and set aside her laptop. Wrapping her sweater around her, she walked out to the front porch and sat on the bottom step, soaking up the sun. It glinted off the lake’s surface. Snow capped the mountains that stood as a backdrop. They appeared close enough to touch, but were actually quite a distance away. It was tranquillity incarnate. She sighed again and leaned her head against the porch post.

She didn’t want this man in the cabin next door. And it was right next door. He was hard and wounded… and she was attracted to him. The feel of his hard palms against her had set off an unwelcome need to have more. She’d been relieved, yet disappointed, when he’d dropped his hands from her arms.

The roar of a motorcycle approaching disturbed the quiet. It was him. She didn’t know that he drove a motorcycle, but it fit. She heard the downshift as he turned onto the driveway from the main road. She forced herself not to get up and go inside. She would not run, scurrying inside like some frightened little mouse, despite the temptation to do just that.

He emerged from the stand of trees on a black beast of a motorcycle. She openly watched his approach. It would be silly to pretend she didn’t see or hear him.

He, however, ignored her as he drove past to park in front of the cabin next to hers. He killed the engine and climbed off. He was tall and lean, yet broad shouldered, and she’d have to be dead not to notice that he had a nice derriere in those jeans. She most assuredly wasn’t dead.

He pulled off his helmet and without hesitation crossed the expanse separating them. She thought about remaining seated, but that would put his crotch directly at eye level, which didn’t seem the best idea.

She rose and tamped down the urge to wrap her arms around her middle. He was intimidating in his black leather jacket. Actually, it wasn’t even the jacket. It was the attitude. She, however, refused to be intimidated.

He cut to the chase. “I came here for privacy.”

What the heck? “So did I.”

“I don’t want a neighbor.”

For a moment his sheer nerve and arrogance rendered her speechless. And then that moment passed. “News flash, Captain Sharpshooter—”

“That’s Sergeant Sharpshooter.”

Whatever. “You didn’t corner that market. I came here for privacy and I don’t want a neighbor, either. And if I did, it sure as heck wouldn’t be you. However, churlishness isn’t in my nature, so I will make the best of what has become a bad situation.”

“Really?” He crossed his arms over his chest, and she had the distinct impression, despite his dour expression, that she was amusing him. “So how do you plan to make the best of what you term a bad situation? Are you going to move in with your sister?”

“Hardly. If anyone were to seek alternative arrangements, that would be you. I was here first. So are you going to move in with your aunt and uncle?”

“Nope. I told you I want privacy.”

“Have I invaded your privacy? I was sitting here minding my own business and you walked over to my cabin.”

“I wanted to make my position clear.”

“It’s crystal clear. And I hope you’re not suffering any confusion as to where I stand, either.”

“I don’t want any company or milk and cookies or any of that neighborly crap.”

“I don’t bake, so no worries. And if I was seeking out company, it certainly wouldn’t be yours.”

“Same here, sister.”

She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to cry or throw something at him. Both were atypical behavior and neither was a viable option.

“Good,” she said.

“Great.”

“Better than great.” By God, she’d have the last word with this moron.

“By the way, I don’t plan to alter the way I do things on your behalf.”

Merilee was seriously confused if she thought Liam was a nice guy. He was a jerk. “I don’t recall asking you to.” And then curiosity got the best of her. “Like what exactly? Should I expect you to howl at the moon?”

“I only howl occasionally, but I do swim in the nude.”

He swam in the nude? She didn’t know whether he was just trying to shock her or if he was serious. Either way, she felt her face heating with a blush. Nonetheless, she called his bluff. “Yet another news flash, Sergeant.” She looked around as if checking that no one else was nearby and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve seen nude men before. I think I’ll manage to contain myself.”

“I just don’t need a jilted man-hating woman taking out her frustrations on me.”

Really? Seriously? That had just come out of his mouth? Jerk didn’t begin to describe him. She gathered every ounce of self-control and smiled sweetly at him. “I am shocked, simply shocked, that you’re not married. Such gallantry and charm—you’re such a catch it’s unfathomable you arrived alone. It will require great willpower on my part, but I think I can manage to not show up on your doorstep, craving your fun-loving, witty company, or throw myself at your nakedness when you go for your swim.”

His expression remained implacable. “I think we’ve come to an understanding.” He turned to go.

Almost. “One more thing, Sergeant…”

He gave a quarter turn to face her again. “Yes?”

“I don’t know, and quite frankly I don’t care, what your problem is, but you need to find another whipping post. Stay the hell away from me.”

SON OF A BITCH. That tactic had failed miserably. Well, it hadn’t been a total wash from the standpoint that she’d certainly give him a wide berth now, but it hadn’t sent her packing, which had been the overall plan. She was still within spitting distance.

He’d underestimated her.

There was a tactic that when a soldier found himself outmanned and alone, he pulled out all his weapons and went on the offensive, guns blazing. He might get gunned down, regardless, but odds were the enemy would turn and flee, sure that anyone on such a certain attack had reinforcements behind him. Liam had dubbed it “playing crazy.” He supposed he’d dub what he’d just done “playing super-bastard.” He’d gone on the offensive and been incredibly abrasive and rude.

He’d fully expected her to turn tail and run. He’d counted on her to quail and take cover by moving into town, away from him. Instead, she’d not only stood her ground, but returned fire, volley for volley.

She was a worthy adversary.

He found himself whistling as he emptied his backpack and stored his meager provisions.

The cabin was comfortable, just the other side of utilitarian. He preferred no frills, and this place provided just that. He immediately noted the entrances and exits—one door in the front, one in the back on the other side of the kitchen.

A single room accommodated a kitchen and sofa with a small desk. A television sat against the opposite wall. The two other rooms were a bathroom and a bedroom. The bathroom held a double bed, small dresser, nightstand and standing wardrobe for clothes. A large braided rug covered a good portion of the wood floor in the main room, with a smaller version of the same color and design in the bedroom.

Framed nature prints hung on the walls. An eagle at roost. A pair of loons on the water. The unblinking stare of a bull moose. Some purple flowers. Spruce hanging heavy with snow.

Nice.

Bull had contacted Sven Sorenson, who had stopped by to meet Liam. Liam would start working with Sven’s crew tomorrow. He’d asked for the most physically demanding job Sven could throw his way.

Liam craved a workout. He ran every morning, but it wasn’t enough—he needed to push himself to the point of physical exhaustion. The sun seemed to wink off the water in invitation. Liam had met the other two couples who lived here—Skye and Dalton Saunders and Sven and Juliette Sorenson. They were all at work.

Liam was going for a swim. It was brisk, but he’d swam in much colder water. As boys in Wisconsin, he and his brother had always swam in the altogether when they could get away with it. Maybe this would send her packing.

He tugged off his boots and socks and stepped outside, clad only in his T-shirt, jeans and underwear. The grass was soft beneath his feet. It had been a long time since he’d walked barefoot on a carpet of green like this.

The water would be cold. That was fine. He’d embrace the cold, adapt to it, push through it.

The hair on the back of his neck prickled to attention. She was there. He felt her watching him. Dammit—he wanted to her gone. Methodically, without fanfare, he stripped.

He waded in, the bracingly cold water lapping around him, and he kept going. Once he hit waist-deep, he began to swim. He focused on the strokes, the rhythm, mentally calculating his distance until the physicality of it freed his mind.

TANSY STOOD ROOTED to her spot behind the screen door, mesmerized by the sheer beauty of the man moving through the water.

The water rippled about him as his powerful strokes cut through the surface. Muscles rippled along his arms, shoulders and back. The effect rippled through her.

He’d disturbed her surface. He’d broken her calm… well, what little calm she’d had. He’d shattered it in spades.

Watching him strip on the shoreline—and yeah, she’d watched—had been something else. Yes, she’d seen a naked man before… and Bradley hadn’t looked like that. Hard and muscled, Liam’s body bespoke discipline and rigor. She had no doubt that whatever physical demands he encountered, he was up to the task. He didn’t have the bulk and bulge of a weight lifter, but sleek, honed definition. The man didn’t carry an ounce of fat and if she’d thought his derriere was impressive in jeans, it had been beyond compare in the altogether.

She’d called his bluff and he’d delivered.

He’d told her he would do what he would do and wouldn’t change anything up for her. And he had.

She opened the screen door and stepped out onto the porch, into the waning sunlight. Leaning against the post, she openly watched him. If an unattractive, albeit boorish, man chose to strip naked and swim in the lake in front of her temporary home, then she chose to watch. Plus, she was curious as to just how far and long he’d swim.

Another plus in the equation was it really was rather akin to poetry in motion to watch his movements in the water. Fluid and powerful, he seemed at one with the lake. And last but not least, given how impressive the rear view had been, she readily admitted she wanted to see how the front view stacked up.

There was something about that argument and then subsequently watching him disrobe that had only heightened the sexual attraction she’d felt from the instant she’d seen him. And in a way, she had enjoyed that blowup. She’d welcomed the anger and outrage. He’d been a distraction and an outlet. For the entire time she’d been arguing with him, she hadn’t thought of Bradley, not in any portion of her brain, except when the butt-head had mentioned her being jilted or whatever nonsense he’d said. But then she really still hadn’t thought of Bradley—it had been more about her.

And it had been good to feel something more—even if it was anger and outrage… and this sexual tingling—than the numbness that had permeated her since she’d walked away from Bradley and his infidelity.

Lost in her own musings, she realized his pace had slowed. A few yards from the shore, he stopped swimming and stood. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart rate accelerated as he began to walk to the water’s edge. Wet, dark hair was scattered over his chest, a taut belly and then—oh… my… goodness. She swallowed hard, a white-hot heat arcing from her brain straight to her sex. Sweet mercy. It was chilly, the water was cold… and he was still impressive. Certainly more impressive than what she’d seen in her other views of male nudity. What he hadn’t been gifted with in the way of manners he’d been given in physical endowments because… well, wow. He was a jerk, but a well-hung jerk.

Maybe that was part of his problem—too much testosterone. She’d always favored gentle, academic men who tended to be a little on the soft side. There was nothing gentle, academic or soft about the naked man retrieving his clothes from the ground.

He straightened and she wasn’t surprised at all that he made absolutely no attempt to cover his nakedness. She made absolutely no attempt to avert her eyes.

He strode audaciously, surely, toward his cabin. She watched boldly, the play of muscles in his thighs, the weight of his penis between his legs, the slide of water over his golden skin.

Neither of them spoke a word. He stared straight ahead. She stared straight at him, silently challenging him to say something to acknowledge her presence when he’d vowed to ignore her.

Actually, he didn’t have to speak to acknowledge her. Awareness arced between them; sexual tension fairly sizzled in the air.

Insanely, if he detoured and his path led him naked to her, despite his earlier behavior she wouldn’t turn away. She fairly hummed with a newfound sexual energy… that suddenly needed an outlet.

But he didn’t detour and come to stand before her. He went inside his cabin and closed the door behind him.

She sank to the top step, feeling both weak-kneed and energized at the same time. She felt alive and turned on.

He wanted a war? She’d give him a war.

Tansy smiled to herself and reached into her pocket for her cell phone.

She knew just the next move.