Page 48 of Montan a Wildfire

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"No, but you implied it."

"No, you misunderstood."

"But I thought—"

"Wrong. As usual, lady, you thought wrong. I, on the other hand, think you'd better get yourself to that cabin before you get caught in a downpour."

If he'd been looking at her, Jake would have seen the spark of fury in her eyes. Frustration, not entirely due to his irksome stubbornness, was gathering inside Amanda. It had been brewing for days, fueled first by rejection, then by flagrant neglect. It was whipping itself into a frenzy. Am

anda gritted her teeth and thought that the storm gathering inside of her promised to be much more violent than anything the overcast sky could lash down on this arrogant man's head.

It was only when she saw Jake make ready to tug the reins and move away that the fragile thread on her temper snapped. She didn't think about what she was doing, she just did it. Leaning to the side, Amanda grabbed Jake's reins. She didn't waste time questioning her motives, but instead jerked the white to a halt.

Jake hadn't been prepared for that. The strips of leather slipped from his fingers before he could snatch them back. The second time he reached for them, the prissy little witch held them out of reach. His gaze narrowed, spearing into her. The way she held her delicately shaped chin loftily high annoyed the hell out of Jake. The way her huge green eyes met his glare with a level stare of her own infuriated him.

Three days, he thought sourly. For three agonizingly long days—and nights; Jesus, don't forget the nights!—he'd kept his distance from this woman, kept his desire firmly leashed. It hadn't been easy. The strain had cost him, but he'd done it. Now, he found himself praying for one more day, one more hour. If he could check his anger until Amanda was settled inside the cabin, he knew he'd be all set. If...

His gaze sharpened on the slender white hand fisting his reins. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"That all depends on where the hell you think you're going!"

The first drop of rain, heavy and thick from having gathered on an overhead leaf, splattered on top of Jake's head. It felt mildly cold as it soaked into his hair and scalp. It was frigid compared to the emotions cooking inside him.

"Well?" Amanda pressed when he didn't answer, but instead sat there glowering at her hand. "Where are you going, Jake? Answer me, I want to know."

"And you always get what you want. Is that it, princess?"

"No, not always."

"But usually."

"Sometimes," she agreed, opting for a compromise.

The anger in his eyes made Amanda think better of what she was doing. Jake Chandler wasn't the sort of man a sane woman pushed, or backed into a corner. Not if she expected to live out the day. And why hadn't she thought of that before?

Of course, it was too late now. She kept her expression determined, her glare hot and irritated. Somehow. "I know why you won't tell me where you're going. It's because you don't want me to know you won't be back for me. That's it, isn't it, Jake? You've been trying every which way to get rid of me for days. Now that you have the chance, you're going to take it."

"I—"

Her green eyes flashed fury. "Don't bother trying to deny it. We both know it's the truth. That's why you've set such a grueling pace for me to follow day after day, isn't it? You were trying to exhaust me, hoping I'd get discouraged and give up. But I didn't. So now you've decided to strand me in the middle of..." She scowled. Where were they? Idaho still, or had they entered Montana again? God, she didn't know! Her voice rose a panicky degree. "It doesn't matter where we are. What matters is that you're skipping out on the job I hired you to do."

She'd thought to baffle him with her brilliant mode of deduction. And he did look baffled, though his confusion didn't look to be stemming from her intelligence. The slight widening of his eyes said he was puzzled by her sheer lack of wit.

The muscle in his cheek jerked spasmodically. His jaw bunched in a harsh, uncompromising line, and his eyes... she shivered, refusing to surrender to a sudden burst of uncertainty.

Jake's voice, when it came, was low and edgy. "Where I'm going, you pampered little idiot, is deeper into the woods where it won't be raining quite so hard. What I plan to do once I get there is build a shelter that will keep me relatively warm and dry until the storm passes. And as for you... ! Lady, if you've got one intelligent bone in that tempting little body of yours—and I'm seriously beginning to doubt it!—you'll give me my damn reins back before I don't have time to do any of that!"

She'd been fisting the reins in question; her fingers went slack around the chilly strips of leather. "You're going to do what?"

"I'm speaking English, aren't I?" Jake sucked in a deep, calming breath. It didn't help. Neither did plowing the fingers of his free hand so harshly through his hair that his scalp stung. What he really wanted to do—what he couldn't do—was either strangle Amanda on the spot, or kiss her breathless. Since both urges were equally strong, he surrendered to neither of them. "I said," he repeated through clenched teeth, "I'm going to find a place to weather out the storm."

"But the cabin—"

"Is that-a-way." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "I suggest you find it while the ground's still dry enough for me to find a place to build a shelter on. Or," his eyes narrowed dangerously, "before I lose my temper. Whichever comes first."

Amanda's mouth opened and closed twice, but no words came out. A few drops of rain sprinkled the top of her head. A couple more moistened her cheeks and nose. She was too busy thinking to notice. She had been so sure he was going to desert her!

Jake leaned forward. Instantly his hand snaked out to grab back the rudely stolen reins.


Tags: Rebecca Sinclair Historical