Hunted by Beverly Long

boy, I’d really like to but no, thanks . It had been a hell, no .
    Was it because he couldn’t ever see her as anything but Mack McCann’s little sister who ate egg sandwiches and drank chocolate milk? Was it because he resented that she’d pulled him into a situation that was getting worse by the minute?
    Was it because she just didn’t do it for him?
    That one was really tough to take.
    She pulled a hair dryer off its hook and punched the on button with more force than necessary. Then she did her best without a comb, finger-drying her long hair. When she finished, it wasn’t perfect but at least it was clean and dry.
    She picked up her dirty clothes, which were nice and toasty from the heat that was pouring out of the tall radiator. She pulled her bra and panties from the pile. Maybe she couldn’t wash everything but at least she could have clean underwear.
    She used a little of the hand soap and warm water to clean the delicate fabric. After rinsing her lingerie, she hung it over the radiator to dry. She picked up her shoes and also put them on the radiator.
    She wrapped the towel around her and tucked it in to keep it secure. Then she once again crossed the hall and opened the bedroom door.
    Ethan was stretched out on the floor, his eyes closed, his breathing deep. He was still fully dressed.
    Chandler stared at him. He was such a handsome man. So very male with his broad chest and his slim hips.
    And he’d said no. She should respect that.
    She climbed into bed, still wearing her towel, and closed her eyes.
    * * *
    E THAN DIDN ’ T OPEN his eyes until he was sure that Chandler was asleep. Then he sat up, careful to stay quiet.
    She had the covers pulled up with one bare arm on the outside, and he could see the edge of her towel peeking out above the covers. She had such lovely skin, so pale, with just a few freckles. Her dark hair floated around her face, spreading across the white pillowcases.
    He was a damn fool. She’d offered and he’d turned her down. He hadn’t had much of a choice. He sure as hell wasn’t going to disappoint Baker McCann or Mack by taking advantage of the situation.
    What they both needed was a little perspective. And a little sleep. It was almost eight, the time when most reasonable people were just starting their day. There’d been nothing reasonable about the past ten hours. From the minute he’d crashed through the tree boughs only to realize that he had Chandler McCann in his arms, he’d been solely focused on keeping her safe.
    At the time, he’d thought his biggest worry was going to be her sore shoulder.
    An explosion in the middle of the night had quickly upped the ante, and now a damn race across the mountains in the middle of a blizzard was bordering on sheer madness.
    Was it possible that her stepmother was selling military secrets? Could Baker McCann have given his heart to a monster?
    No, not the Baker he knew and respected and loved. Yes, loved. He’d been a young boy in need of a father figure, and Baker had been more than just an acceptable stand-in. He’d inspired Ethan, given him hope.
    He wasn’t going to sleep with the man’s daughter.
    He recalled what Roxy had said about the shower—that the hot water would last a long time. He hoped the same was true about the cold.
    He carefully got up, grabbed his duffel bag and left the room. When he opened the door, Molly lifted her head but made no move to follow him.
    When he opened the bathroom door and saw Chandler’s underwear drying on the radiator, he almost forgot his resolve. She might have a towel on but she didn’t have anything on underneath it.
    She’d said she was “old enough.” Her lacy dark blue underwear screamed “sexy and old enough.” And that was a hell of a combination.
    He turned on the cold water and ducked his head under.
    After his shower, he shaved and brushed his teeth and got dressed in clean clothes. He stuffed his dirty ones into his duffel bag and crossed the narrow