Wild in the Moment Read Online Free Page B

that—oh, for Pete’s sake.” She stared in disbelief at the cell phone. “ No, I won’t go out with you when this is all over, you…you cretinous canard! Des clous! ”
    The French insults didn’t even dent his attitude. George just laughed. The sheriff! The one person in town who was supposed to rescue you no matter what the problem!
    When it came down to it, the law had never done her a lick of good.
    The soup was finally ready. She wrapped a spoon in a napkin, flicked off the kitchen light and carried her steaming bowl into the living room. The fire was popping-hot now. She’d have to wake up in the night to make sure it was fed—otherwise it’d go out, and suck all their warmth out the chimney. But for now, the cherry and apple logs smelled as soothing as an old-fashioned Christmas.
    She ignored the shrieking wind, as easily as she ignored the long, blanket-covered lump on the couch. Darn it, she’d earned this meal. And she was actually getting woozy-headed from exhaustion and jet lag and too many hours without something in her stomach.Quickly she settled in the giant recliner—obviously Mr. Cunningham’s favorite chair, judging from the hunting magazines stacked next to it—and reached for the spoon.
    A sexy voice—a pitiful, weak, vulnerable but nevertheless sexy voice—piped up from the deep shadows of the couch. “Could I have just a little of that?”
    â€œNo.”
    A moment passed, and then the voice piped up again, this time adding a desperate, ingratiating tone on top of the weak and pitiful. “It smells really good. In fact, it smells fantastic.”
    â€œTough. You’re not getting any food.”
    When he responded with silence again this time, she had to relent. “Look. I’m not eating in front of you to be mean. There’s nowhere to sit in the kitchen and I’m beat and this is the only other room that’s really warm. Honestly, though, it’s just not a good idea for you to have food after a head bump. You could throw up.”
    Like any other guy who’d made it to first base, he immediately tried for second. “I won’t. I promise I won’t.”
    â€œSo you say. But the sheriff said I was to make sure you stayed awake, check your pupils every couple of hours and not give you any food until tomorrow morning.” She scooped up more soup, still not looking at him. She still remembered the ka-boom of her heartbeat when she half carried the big lug into the living room. Then she’d had to suffer through a whole bunch more intimate body contact in the process of settling him on the couch and tucked him in again.
    That was her whole problem with men. They looked at her a certain way, she caved. He was one of them, she could sense it, smell it, taste it. For right now atleast he was hurt. How much damage could a guy do when he was hurt? Particularly when she refused to look at him. She wasn’t volunteering for any more of those ka-booms.
    â€œPlease,” he begged charmingly.
    She plunked down her soup, growled a four letter word in total disgust, then marched into the kitchen to spoon out another bowl. A small bowl. She brought it back with a scowl. “You get two spoonfuls. No more.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œYou keep that down, then we’ll talk. But I don’t want to hear any whining or bribes.”
    â€œNo whining. No bribes. Got it,” he promised her.
    Yeah. That big baritone promising not to whine was like a bear promising not to roar, but she slid the ottoman over and sat down with the bowl. “Don’t try sitting. Just lean up a little bit.”
    â€œI think there’s a slim chance I could feed myself.”
    â€œI think there’s a big chance you’ll eat the whole bowl. That’s the point. I’m controlling this.”
    â€œAh. A bossy, controlling woman, are you?”
    â€œNo. A scared woman. If you die or get