Resisting Her Rebel Hero Read Online Free Page B

dressing. “I told you I wasn’t drunk.”
    Before he could open the packet she snatched it from him and shoved her shoulder into his side as though she’d physically keep him from leaving.
    As if.
    He would have snickered at the absurdity if he hadn’t been sucking in a painful breath. Turning a scowl on her that usually had people backing off in a hurry, she surprised him with a snapped “Back it up, Major,” clearly not intimidated by his big bad Navy SEAL attitude.
    He gave an annoyed grunt and tried to snatch it back.
    “I mean it,” she warned, jabbing her finger into his chest. “Or I’ll use the syringe and the sheriff will have no choice but to go without you.” She narrowed her eyes at him when he continued to glare at her while contemplating letting her try.
    Heck , he might even enjoy it.
    “And FYI, buddy , I nearly got intoxicated on the alcoholic haze surrounding you when I arrived, and not five minutes ago you almost fell on your face. You are not in any condition to go anywhere, least of all into the mountains on S&R. Besides,” she reasoned sweetly, “you’re bleeding all over the sheriff’s nice clean jail cell. You need stitches.” She paused and dropped her eyes meaningfully to his hand and then his abdomen. “Lots of them.”
    Staring down at her, Sam felt his lips twitch. She was like an enraged kitten—all fierce green eyes and ruffled silver fur. For just an instant he was tempted to reach out and smooth his hands over all that soft skin and silky silvery blond hair until she purred. One look into her narrowed eyes, however, and Sam knew she would probably bite his hand off at the wrist if he tried.
    He made a scoffing sound filled with masculine impatience and amusement, which only served to narrow her eyes even further. “I’ve had mosquito bites worse than this,” he assured her, feeling unaccountably cheered by her concern. “And if you’re worried about blood alcohol levels, I’m sure the sheriff can organize a breathalyzer.”
    For long tense moments they engaged in a silent battle of wills until she finally uttered a soft “ Aargh ” followed by “Fine” in a tone that clearly meant it wasn’t, and Sam had to clench his teeth to keep from grinning. He had a feeling grinning would be bad for his health.
    “Oh...and FYI, sweetheart ,” he continued, while she sorted through the supplies with barely leashed temper, “I wasn’t drinking. The weasel tried to break a bottle over my head. When I ducked, it shattered against the bar and soaked into my shirt. That was before he tried to gut me with it.”
    She turned towards him with a derisive sound and raised a brow that clearly conveyed her opinion of his explanation. “I said fine, didn’t I?”
    “You most certainly did,” Ruben said dryly, shoving his face between them. “But I’m still not seeing anything happening here, people.” He waited a couple of beats as his gaze ping-ponged between them. “So if you kids could save the lovers’ spat for another time, I’d like my chief tracker.”
    * * *
    Feeling her face catch fire, Cassidy broke eye contact with the Navy SEAL to send the sheriff a long, silent, narrow-eyed look that had him backing away with his hands up.
    She turned back to snap, “Lift your arm.” When he did she swiped disinfectant across the angry gash, completely ignoring the hissed response to her cavalier treatment.
    After a long murmured conversation during which she cleaned and applied a few adhesive cross-strips to keep the edges of the wound together, the sheriff left. Cassidy knew the instant the SEAL’s attention shifted back to her because the tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled.
    With unsteady hands she dressed his wound then cleaned and tightly wrapped his hand in a waterproof dressing, before turning away to gather the debris.
    The length of her back heated an instant before a long tanned arm reached over her shoulder to snag a bandage. Cursing the way her skin