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With that Desi watched as he went down the stairs to the kitchen. Inhaling slowly through her nose, she held her breath to the count of eight and exhaled between pursed lips. It was the only thing she could think of to calm her racing heart. She was finding Lane was the only man that ever had her anxiety on high alert. She wasn’t about to dismiss the fact that he was attractive, and she was not... but it was more than that. Maybe it was the pure hatred he exuded every time he looked at her. Deciding that was it she spun on her heel, grabbed the plant from the floor and went in search for the perfect bedroom.
––––––––
LANE WAS SHAKING HIShead with every step he took down to the kitchen. He wasn’t one to hold a grudge but for some reason, with her he was, ever since she smacked him in the face with the door. Which wasn’t her fault. If he had been a second quicker, he’d have been the one to hit her with it. “No that’s not it,” he said aloud to the empty kitchen, as he opened the fridge door.
No. It was the way she had tried to slink out the front door of the inn that did it for him. All because of some damn biscuits. He should have just let her go out into the night. If he had he wouldn’t be dealing with her now. But he didn’t and he had to, so, he might as well make the best of it. And that was to find out exactly why she was in Pearl Lake. Because in his experience if you weren’t here on vacation, you were here to hide out. Now all he had to do was get her to talk.
Taking a frying pan off the rack he set it on the gas stove and lit the fire underneath, tossing the Rubens in it, side by side, he covered the pan with a lid. There was no microwave to heat the fries, so now he needed to find a cookie sheet. Opening the counter doors one by one revealed nothing but cobwebs and mouse droppings. His only other choice was another frying pan. Taking another one down, he sat it on the burner and set it to low then tossed the fries in. Rubbing his hands together, he went to the fridge and opened the freezer.
“Red or White?” he wondered aloud, as he stared at the wine bottles he had placed inside earlier to chill. One thing he couldn’t stand, was drinking warm wine.
Grabbing the red, he sat it on the counter and opened a cupboard door looking for some wine glasses. Coffee mugs sat there looking at him instead. Shrugging, he took two down and placed them beside the wine, and that’s when he smelled something burning. Turning towards the stove he saw the pan that held the Rubens smoking like a small inferno, he hurriedly yanked it off the stove.
“Sonofabitch!!” he yelled, dropping it onto the countertop.
He could hear Desi moving in the hallway above. He rolled his eyes at the sound of her tromping down the stairs. He really didn’t want to explain to her what an idiot he was. If she hadn’t been on his mind since the second he’d laid eyes on her, it wouldn’t be so bad, but the woman rubbed him the wrong way.
She stepped into the room with a wild look in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
He wiped his hand on his pants. “It’s nothing,” he said, through clenched teeth as pain shot from his palm to his elbow. The real kicker... a sweat broke out on his brow.
Desi saw his reaction and rushed over to him. “You’re burnt.”
Not waiting for him to respond, she took him by the wrist and walked him to the sink. Turning the cold tap on, she stuck his hand under the running water and held it there.
“Trust me, you need to stop it from burning, otherwise it will just burn deeper.”
Lane winced at the pain it caused but as it eased up, he forgot all about it and became very aware of how close she was to him. Needing to get some distance between them he hissed out a breath. “It’s good now. Thanks,” he said, and tried to pull his arm back but she held fast.
Desi turned his hand over and tsked at the welts forming on his palm. She looked him in the eyes and said, “Is the food ready?”
For the first time Lane noticed her eyes were an aquamarine colour, like the waters of the Caribbean Sea on a sunny day. He nodded without saying a word.
“Good, I’ll get the food and bring it up.” She steered him towards the stairs. “I picked my bedroom, it’s the last one on the right before the living room. My bag is on the bed, you’ll find a tube of burn ointment in it along with some bandages in a makeup bag. I’ll be right up.”
Lane turned and headed to the stairs not understanding what just happened. He wasn’t used to being bossed around and he didn’t like it one bit.
So why in hell was he doing what she told him to?
