Saint Read Online Free Page B

a gunshot
rang out, echoing down the mountain.
    What the hell was he doing?
    The sedan circled back in her direction,
whizzing past her to bump drunkenly down the access road. Maria didn’t like the
feeling stirring in her gut. She liked it less when a half-dressed Harris
emerged from the house, roaring “Goddammit!”
    She hadn’t gotten a good look at Harris
earlier when he’d let Will into the cabin, but what she saw now scared the
vinegar out of her. Wearing nothing but a pair of low-riding jeans and a black
scowl on his chiseled features, he strode barefoot toward his four-by-four. He
was well over six feet, lean and muscular and built for brawling. His dark
blond hair was clipped short and he had broad, bronzed shoulders, a trim waist
and…well, there was little doubt the man was very well developed all over.
Difficult to gauge his age but she figured late thirties.
    It wasn’t so much his physical appearance
as his don’t-fuck-with-me demeanor that made one wary of getting too close. This guy stood up in front of college
kids in a stuffy shirt and tie, spouting Chaucer?
    He bent to survey the damage to his truck
tire and cursed again. And she really, really wanted to be wrong in thinking
Will had lied to her about Harris’ acquiescence. But she didn’t think she was.
All the traveling and lack of sleep had made her slow on the draw or she would
have realized sooner that Will was dumping her on this guy.
    Okay, well, she’d handled tough interviews
before. Slinging the duffle over her shoulder, she trudged up the incline. When
she reached the edge of the truck she stuck out her hand in greeting. “Maria
Carvania. Nice to meet you, Mr. Harris. I think.”
    He didn’t so much as spare her a glance. “Save
it, honey. There isn’t going to be anything nice about it.” Harris stalked away
from her to the rear corner of the house, then back again, biting out more curses.
“Son of a bitch. No wonder he wanted to use my bathroom.” Yanking the spare
tire from the truck bed, he searched inside the cab for the jack. “Put your duffel
in the truck. As soon as I’m finished here I’ll take you back.”
    Back where? There was no place to go back to.
“But Will said—”
    “I don’t give a rat’s ass what Will said,”
he cut her off savagely, deadly blue eyes boring into her. “Let’s get one thing
straight, lady. You’re not staying here.”
    She felt her own hackles beginning to rise.
He was acting as though she was responsible for what had just happened here. “Would
you mind not looking at me that way?”
    “What way?”
    “As though you’d like to break my neck. I
didn’t know he was going to do that.”
    He changed the tire in record time and returned
the jack to the cab. Spotting the duffel still hanging from her shoulder, he
hitched two fingers under the strap and relieved her of it, tossing it into the
cab as well before slamming the door and brushing past her. He disappeared into
the cabin, leaving her to follow. Or not.
    Stick to him like glue, Will had said. Now
she knew why. She was the egg—Harris was the wall and already she could feel
herself sliding down the slick slope.
    “In here,” he called from the kitchen as
she let the door close behind her.
    She took in the sparse living room on her
way to the kitchen, where she accepted the hot cup of coffee he grudgingly
offered.
    “Did he at least feed you this morning?”
    She shifted uncomfortably. “We left the
motel early.” He didn’t appear to be a reasonable man, particularly when he was
pissed. Although, she couldn’t really blame him for not wanting to involve
himself in her personal war against Juarez. People were dying all around her.
Simon, Buck, Ray.
    Her mother.
    Jimmy.
    Suddenly he was there, removing the untouched
coffee from her hand and replacing it with a glass of whiskey. “Drink,” he
ordered, placing a hand on her shoulder to push her into a chair.
    “Isn’t it a little early in the morning