She ran on, unaware of the desperation in her voice. “I have the children to take care of. I need that money!”
Kit knew instinctively that something was wrong. Her voice sounded too frenzied.
Hallie caught his knowing expression and realized she had given herself away. But to admit to being caught up a tree would make her look like the child he’d just called her. And to this man, who she wished would think of her as a woman, the silly incident with Abner Brown’s tree would just confirm his opinion of her.
Kit leaned back with a sigh, “Okay, Hallie, let’s have it.” He laced his fingers together behind his head. “And none of this nonsense about lining my family’s pockets either. Believe me, they don’t need it nor am I helping them out. Now what is going on?”
How could she get out of this? Maybe she could convince him that she needed the money for the household. Although, if the cargo was still in storage, she stood little chance of getting the money to Abner Brown.Still... he might consign it to someone else if he thought she was desperate enough, or even advance the funds into their account.
He was waiting for her answer. She stared at her folded hands. “Da’s been gone since the first of the year, and he hasn’t been gone this long since Mama died.” Hallie sighed, for emphasis. “The household money is gone, so I went to the bank, and the account is almost empty.” She was purposely vague in her explanation.
“That is odd.” Kit frowned. “I understood you had an account at Oatt’s. Is there some problem?”
Oh rats! Her father must have told him about the mercantile account. He looked sincerely worried, and it made Hallie feel guilty, but not guilty enough to admit to Kit Howland that she needed five hundred dollars because she’d been caught up in a tree.She felt cornered. She needed to confuse him. Hallie covered her face with her hands and promptly feigned some surprisingly realistic-sounding sobs. Cracking her fingers a smidgen, she saw Kit stand quickly and pat his pockets, obviously in search of a handkerchief.
Her whimpers grew to wails as she began to get into the spirit of things. All the while, her mind rapidly plotted a way to get him to transfer the money early.
Kit pulled out his handkerchief, and as he walked toward her, Hallie heard him mumble something about being a brash idiot. Peeking through her fingers, she caught sight of a piece of white linen hanging from his proffered hand. She kept her head down and added a few wails to prevent him from seeing her dry eyes while she grabbed the hankie. With a couple of loud sniffles, she covered her eyes and nose with the fabric.
His masculine scent radiated from the cloth, and Hallie felt suddenly light-headed.
Kit was consoling her with gentle words. His strong voice had softened as he told her she was a spunky thing and that he knew it must have been tough, raising the younger Fredriksens since the death of their mother.
Listening to him speak so sweetly, she wavered and forgot to add some more wails. Luckily, she was saved from revealing herself when he pulled her into his arms. She buried her face in the vee of his vest and wrapped her arms tightly around his upper back. The action pressed her full breasts flush against him, and she thought she felt the rumble of a groan.
Hallie clung to his back, still attempting to hide. The hard button of his shirt was pressed against her nose, which began to itch from all her phony sniffles. She turned her head quickly in an effort to keep from sneezing, and her chest rubbed against his. It felt so good, she was contemplating twisting again when she let loose with an indelicate sneeze.
She opened her eyes to look up into his. Her cheeks, unmarred by tear blotches, and her guilty dry eyes gave her away.
He expression changed. “Why you little faker!” He grabbed her shoulders and began to shake her.
Hallie’s jostled mind screamed run, but his grip held her tight, so she drew her foot back and kicked him hard in the shin.
“Ouch, dammit!”
His grip loosened while he hopped on one foot, blocking the path to the door. Hallie spun around and ran to the other side of the desk. He turned, and for a moment she was motionless.
“You brat!” It seemed as if his dark pupils had disappeared. All she saw was the deep, green gleam in his eyes that somehow chained her gaze to his.
Kit leaned forward. She stepped back.
He placed his hands on the front corners of the desk and moved his taut-featured face even closer.
The desk somehow shrunk.
Hallie locked her knees to keep from shaking, and she grabbed his wheeled chair. Her hands gripped its tufted leather back like a shield, inching it back and forth in readiness.
His wide shoulders shifted to the left. Hallie and the chair slid right. She didn’t dare gauge the distance to the door, because his feline movements signaled that he would take that instant to pounce.
Kit, and his menacing glare, edged right. Hallie rolled the chair left. Her wary stare moved to his body, hoping to get a clue to his next movement.
“Jan should have laid his hand to your backside, Hallie.”
“Da never hit me!”
“That’s obvious.”
His words broke her concentration, and Hallie shifted her weight to her right foot.
