“The last time I checked, you aren’t the boss of me.” While I was mostly kidding, sparring like breathing to us, he didn’t seem to take it that way, his eyes narrowing as he took two long strides toward me.
“Listen to me. The person responsible is dangerous. Don’t you get that? You could get hurt or worse. I don’t want to see you like…”
He sucked in his breath before rubbing his jaw.
When I inched even closer, taking my time doing so, he closed his eyes. Just by placing my hand on his arm, tiny bolts of current flowed through my fingers. He felt the electricity as well but refused to acknowledge it.
“I’m not going to do anything stupid, Viper. Don’t worry. But I am a big girl and can ask a few questions. That’s all I’m talking about.”
“And I’m telling you that’s not a good idea.”
“Why? Do you know something I don’t know?” When he glanced away, albeit quickly, I could tell he knew much more than I did. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing important.”
“Then share.” Since he was the master of offering gruff faces to highlight his grumpy attitude, I gave one back.
His eyes were on fire. “The fire marshal warned my captain we could have a serial arsonist.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“And you’re going to promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
“Who, me?” I pointed to my chest, trying to break the tension.
“Yeah, you. And I’m warning you.”
“You’re warningmoi?”
Viper enjoyed using his finger, pointing it at me when maddeningly irritated about something I’d said or done. Which was frequent given I adored pushing his buttons. “I should say I’m making a promise to punish you.”
“Oh, I’m very afraid.”
His nostrils flared as he shook his head. “Little brat. I’m going to take a shower.”
“And I need to feed the horses.” I playfully pushed him away, twirling in a circle. Even his overbearing attitude about my safety was a nice change. “Unless you need a partner in the shower.”
I laughed off my statement while moving toward the door, completely thrown for a loop when I was suddenly pitched against the wall, my lips becoming the subject of some harsh punishment. He’d used the full weight of his body on mine, crushing me against the wall.
Of course I tried to push him away, even pounding on his chest. Once again, my mind drifted to how our behavior was far too… normal. I’d soon start waiting and wondering when the other shoe would drop.
He was having none of it, planting both hands on either side of me, dominating my mouth with his soft lips and demandingtongue. I was swept away in the passion, my heart thumping loudly enough I heard slight echoes in my ears.
I could easily enjoy kissing him for hours, savoring the way he controlled every inch of my body.
The man was a presence to be reckoned with and this being his manner of sweeping me off my feet, I was momentarily hypnotized. The stench of smoke was even stronger, filtering into my nose in the same way I’d experienced in walking to the charred remnants of what had originally been the horse barn.
They’d only recently moved them closer and my father had acted funny about why. Not that I was complaining, but they’d picked the barn near the river because of the water source. The horses loved it. Had there been a reason for the move? Maybe it didn’t matter.
Even in shoving aside the imagery I’d created in my mind about the fire, my pulse had kicked in from the odor. The sweetness of his taste couldn’t mask the wretched visions or the horrible feeling that whoever had committed the horrible crime had a very personal, very dark reason for doing so.
As gently as possible, I pushed him away, sliding under his outstretched arm and heading to the door.
He didn’t move, didn’t say a word, but I knew he was confused. Hell, so was I. I couldn’t seem to break free of the horror, the fire claiming far too much of my life. It was time to have a cathartic ceremony. Out with the old and in with new, my mother would say. Boxes. I’d feed the horses and start boxing up everything.
There.
I’d made a decision and planned on sticking to it. My handsome house guest was dead on the money. I hadn’t tried to make the house my home, which my parents would want. I’d been living out of a suitcase. No longer.
