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“That’s what this is about, princess?” Duke asks, and it’s clear from his tone that he’s not impressed. “You need help changing atire?”
“You don’t need to say it like that,” I mutter, and his eyebrow quirks up.
“Like what?”
“Like you think I’m a useless, shallow waste of space.”
“You said it, darlin’,” Duke drawls, with a lazy smirk. “Not me.”
I scowl. “Just so you know, I have plenty of skills,” I inform him icily, putting my hands on my hips. Somewhere, a little voice is reminding me that snapping at the man isn’t going to help with the whole flat tire situation, but there’s something about the way Duke is looking at me that prickles, hot under my skin. Like he’s wasting his time even talking to me.
Like he’s got me all figured out.
“Skills, huh?” Duke looks me up and down. “I’m sure you do.”
I gasp. “Not like that!” I exclaim, furious now. “Although, youwishyou could have a glimpse of what I’m capable of in the bedroom,” I add, stabbing an angry finger in his direction. “You couldn’t handle what this body can do. I make grown menweep!”
“Is that right?” Duke smirks, amused, and my flush only deepens.
What is it about this man that makes me fly off the handle?
“You know what? I don’t need your help,” I snap. “I can handle it myself.”
“Suit yourself.” Duke gives a shrug, turns, and ambles back towards the truck.
“That’s it?” I blurt, infuriated. “You’re just leaving me on the side of the road? Whatever happened to chivalry?”
He sends me another smirk. “You tell me where to find a lady, and I’ll start acting like a gentleman.”
My jaw drops. “You… You…” I stutter, trying to think of the perfect put-down, but Duke doesn’t stick around to let me.
“Drive safe, princess.”
He climbs in the truck, revs the engine, and cruises past me. The last thing I see is him sending a mock-salute in my direction, before he turns back onto the highway and leaves me in the dust.
AARRGH!
I let out of cry of frustration. Of all the smug, arrogant, self-satisfied, annoyingly-handsome pieces of work…
I march back to the car, determined to prove him wrong. I can change my own damn tire. I don’t need him – or anyone – to help.
I shove my bags aside, and lift the floorboard to grab the spare…
And that’s when I discover, the wheel well is empty.
There is no spare tire.
Thunder rolls overhead. There’s a crack of lightning, and then the skies open in a sudden gush of torrential rain.
I shriek as the cold water hits my skin, soaking through my thin T-shirt in an instant. “Are you kidding me?” I cry, up at the stormy skies. “Are you seriously serious right now?!”
Unsurprisingly, the skies don’t talk back.
I dive back into the car, as the rain pours down, drumming on the windscreen. I stare out miserably at the deluge. I’d give everything I have to magically teleport back to Los Angeles right now, but clearly magic, and the universe, aren’t on my side.
Think.
I check my phone reception again to call for Triple-A, but there’s still no reception. It’ll be getting dark soon, and God knows if anyone else will be along to help me. And since I don’t feel like spending the night sleeping in my car…
I grit my teeth, grab my purse, and hoist my wheeled suitcase out of the backseat.
So much for a relaxing vacation. I’m stuck in a rainstorm, three miles from Blackberry Cove, already soaked to the skin…
And there’s nothing left to do but walk.
Walk, and plot my revenge.
Because I swear, Duke Hendricks is going to pay for this.
TO BE CONTINUED…
