Misfortune: Christmas With Scrooge Read Online Free Page A

the
extent of injury to her legs. He could see that they were bare and
scratched, coated in blood, with only tattered pieces left of her
torn nylons covering them. As she had said, her feet were trapped,
disappearing under the crushed portion of the hood of the car.
    “Didn't you wear boots?” He began tugging at
her legs, trying to free her feet.
    Startled by the irrelevant question, she
mumbled, “I didn't give it much thought.”
    He turned to give her a look of disapproval.
“They could have saved you some deep cuts.”
    Nerves already pulled taut, she began to feel
the aches in her legs and the sores in her trapped feet, and simply
wanted to start crying all over again. She had successfully ignored
the pain in her feet since the imminent danger of death was more
pressing, however now he only reminded her of their aches and
pains.
    Stepping back from the vehicle, he began to
talk to no one in particular when he said, “I can't get you free
from this angle. I'm going to have to come in there.”
    “How? The door is stuck—” she broke off as
she realized he already had a plan.
    He leaned forward and suddenly began
squeezing his body through the broken window. Since there was only
so much space in the tiny opening, she was crushed as far back as
her seat would allow, permitting sufficient room for him to enter.
His broad shoulders crushed her chest and cut off her circulation
momentarily as he propelled his body forward. At last he gathered
his body into the passenger seat then turned to study her
closer.
    “Can you feel your feet?”
    She wiggled her toes, then quickly nodded her
head unnecessarily fast. “Yes.”
    Glancing into her face he noticed her eyes
beginning to glisten with distress and her voice was coming
alarmingly close to hysteria. He knew he should say something to
help calm her nerves but he was coming up empty. Instead he turned
his attention back to her feet.
    Laura heard the shaking in her voice and felt
the onslaught of convulsions. She bit her lip hard in an endeavor
to quail her fears. Post terror was making its ugly appearance. The
reality of what she barely escaped and the terrifying predicament
she found herself in now, was becoming alarmingly clear. She
recognized the symptoms and attempted to suppress them.
    However, it was his hands that were having a
calming effect. Oddly, for a man who appeared to be so harsh and
uncaring, his hands were strangely gentle as they reached under and
unbuckled the straps of her sandals. He tossed them carelessly
behind him and returned to her feet where he startled her
completely by gently massaged them back and forth.
    “Wh-what are you d-doing?” Her voice
stuttered both on the lingering hysteria and the unexpected
intimate touch.
    He ignored her, continuing in an attentive
manner until without warning her feet slipped freely from their
trap. Feeling utterly disorientated, she muttered a thank you
before reaching down to rub them gingerly. Indeed, what she
surprisingly wanted was the continual touch of his soothing
hands.
    Dexter O'Reilly didn't even bother to
acknowledge her thanks but simply turned to the seat belt next, and
with a quick touch of a button, she was free of that restriction as
well. As she fell hard onto the steering wheel, however, she was
knocked all at once from her short panic attack, and peevishly
thought a warning would have been nice.
    Rubbing her shoulder, she looked over at her
rescuer, and remembered who he was. Nice, she sincerely doubted,
was not in his vocabulary.
    “We're going to have to stay the night.” It
was simply stated, not a trace of emotion.
    “What?” Laura's hand froze. “You're kidding,
right, because I don’t think I can do that if I don't have to.”
    “I don't kid.” Which hardly surprised her.
“And, yes, you do have to.”
    “But somebody is sure to drive by and see our
tracks in the snow.”
    “The snow has started to fall again, they
will be completely covered soon if not