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Stone Man hunched his shoulders higher and burrowed his chin into his chest. Christ. She sounded like a throat-shot wolverine, whiny and pitiful.
It was giving him a headache.
He tilted his face just enough to skewer her with his eyes. His gaze was hard, angry. Whoever decided it was wrong to punch a woman hadn't met Devon O'Shea.
He let out a long, low sigh, wishing again that he was the kind of man who used his fists easily. Plopping his elbows on the counter, he eased his chin onto his steepled fingers and wondered why she couldn't at least be normal. Women were supposed to be stupid, sociable, easily intimidated by men.
All he'd wanted was someone to manage the post so he could take photographs. And what had he gotten? An obsessively chatty woman who picked up his boots before they hit the floor and thought like an army general.
Christ... He was more tied to the r-;.-¦.?aow than he was before.
He tried to drag his gaze away from her but couldn't. Of their own accord his eyes kept seeking her out. He couldn't help staring at her; she was so damn out of place.
He ground his teeth. If only she knew how ridiculous she looked, with her flowery dress and her curled-up hair. The throbbing in his temples intensified then slid down to the base of his skull and hammered.
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50
Shit.
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click, click, click
Shall I light the stove?
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Silly. him-
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Righting herself, Devon stared at the hunched-over little hobgoblin, her smile fading. The little man was looking at her over his shoulder, studying her contemptuously.
She stifled a sigh. The last thing she needed right now was to face the old man's hatred. It had been a hard day.
"So, Stoneyman," he said, still staring at Devon."I guess we lost our bets. The bitch is staying."
Devon felt a flash of anger. She waited pointedly for Stone Man to say something. He didn't.
"Are you going to let him talk to me like that?" she demanded of her partner.
Stone Man shrugged. "You want protection? Get a dog."
"Why, you ..." She clamped her mouth shut. Silently counting to ten, she regained composure then focused a steady stare on Midas. "Are you here for a reason?"
Midas turned his back on her. "Stoneyman," he said pointedly, "I need some soup."
"So, get it."
Midas's banty legs moved like eggbeaters as he stomped| over to where the soup used to be. "What the hell . . Where's the damned soup?"
Devon hurried across the tent.
