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He inspected a roll-top desk, off-kilter thanks to a missing leg. Then he began tossing aside soggy books from the built-in shelves. “If I pull one of these books and vanish through a trapdoor, go home without me,” he said while he searched.
How, even now, did he make her smile?
A spider web overhead caught her eye. The fat-bodied, spindly-legged creature had a red jewel in its center. Yeah, no thanks. She backed away. A decorative rug squished beneath her feet.
“Careful,” he said as he continued to search. “Any of those floorboards could give at any moment.”
He wasn’t happy with her. And this was a reaction caused by something other than fear because they were trapped inside this creepy house. He was upset because she’d blamed him for things he hadn’t done. For taking her keys, and for sleeping with her to keep his trip to Hawaii. Admittedly, that accusation had been a bridge too far.
She was scared. And then upset. And had lashed out like a cornered cat.
“You’re angry with me,” she said.
He shut a book with a damp slap. “I’m not angry with you.”
“My keys aren’t being used as a bookmark, so I doubt you’ll find them in there.”
“Sometimes books are carved out to hide valuables.” He gave her a duh look. “Haven’t you ever watched a spy movie?”
She grabbed the book, but he didn’t let go. Much like the tug-of-war over the plastic ax earlier, he won. She came closer, stopping short of standing on his toes.
He watched her silently.
“Just tell me what you’re thinking,” she said.
He sighed. Looked to the ceiling as if gathering strength and then back to her. “You think I arranged this entire evening to get into your pants?”
She flinched. She didn’t believe that, even though that was what she’d sort of implied. “I wanted into yours just as badly.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “And?”
“And what?”
He threw the book onto the shelf. “Did I satisfy your curiosity?”
“The truth?”
A soft grunt, then, “Sure, why not?”
“It was the best sex I’ve had and I think we should do it again.”
He frowned but she could see the twinkle of mirth in his eyes. “Don’t tease me, McIntire.”
“Hand to God.” She held up a palm.
His mouth hitched at the corner. When he spoke, his playful tone was back. “You’re not fishing for a compliment yourself, are you?”
“No. I know how good I am in bed.”
He tossed his head back and laughed. “Yeah, well. You should.” He reached for her and she took one step toward him, which should have landed her in the circle of his arms.
Instead, the rotted board between them gave way beneath her. One second she was on solid ground and the next she was falling into thin air.
Her pants scraped along a jagged piece of flooring, slicing into her leg and drawing a scream from her throat. At the same time he wrapped one strong hand around her upper arm and tugged.
In a blink she was at his side, her chest heaving, her heart thundering. His arms banded around her.
“Are you shaking or am I?” she asked as her pulse thudded in her throat.
