Once a Rebel by Sheri Whitefeather Page A

easier.
    â€œEthan?”
    His pulse thudded in his ears. “Yes?”
    â€œAre you tired?”
    â€œA little,” he lied, knowing he probably wouldn’t sleep a wink. “Are you?”
    She nodded, and he offered to make up their beds, to get the cabin ready.
    For the girl of his boyhood dreams to spend the night.

Eight
    S usan wasn’t as tired as she’d claimed she was, but she thought it would be easier to settle in for the night, to try to relax. Her heart was tripping all over itself, wanting to get closer to Ethan.
    Too close, she thought.
    He pulled out the sofa bed and put some fresh sheets on it, tucking the clinical white cotton into place. She would have preferred to sleep on sheets that carried his scent. That his body had touched. But he even changed the pillowcase.
    Chocolate jumped up on the bed and tried to lie down while Ethan was still in the process of making it, and he shook his head and shooed the dog away. Susan smiled at the persistent Lab. The other dogs were watchinghim, waiting to see if he was going to defy his master and leap back onto the bed. Chocolate was, without a doubt, the leader of the pack, the wild one of the bunch.
    But before he got the chance to impress his canine comrades, Ethan shot him a don’t-even-think-about-it glare.
    Chocolate gave up and slumped onto the floor, like a kid who wanted to make faces behind his dad’s back.
    Ethan rolled his eyes and spread a blanket over the top sheet. Susan noticed that it had horseshoes printed on it, sort of like his tattoo, the sexy artwork on his back. Of course she couldn’t see his tattoo. His chest wasn’t bare.
    Suddenly she wondered what he was going to wear to bed. If he would be half-naked.
    She’d brought the most conservative sleepwear she owned: a white nightgown with a high-neck collar and lace trim. She’d purchased it at a Victorian-replica flea market, along with a few pieces of furniture she didn’t need. But spontaneous shopping sprees were Susan’s pamper-herself whim, a female indulgence that sprang from being single.
    And lonely, she thought with a grimace.
    Ethan glanced at her. He was almost finished making the bed. “Are you okay? Never mind,” he added quickly. “Dumb question.”
    No, it wasn’t dumb at all, but she didn’t have the courage to admit that she hadn’t been thinking about the kidnapping as he probably assumed.
    She reached for her bag. “Is it all right if I change in your bathroom?”
    â€œSure. Go ahead.” He folded down the blanket, fussing a bit too much with the bedding.
    She went into the cramped bathroom and caught sight of his toiletries on the counter. He used liquid soap, citrus-flavored toothpaste and an electric razor. His aftershave came in a blue bottle, nothing costly, just a drugstore-stocked item that made a simple statement.
    Susan refrained from taking a secret whiff, just as she resisted the urge to use his toothpaste. His mouthwash tempted her, too. But she wasn’t about to become a this-belongs-to-him thief. Her crush-crazed days were supposed to be over.
    Finally she changed into the Victorian-inspired nightgown. Removing the barrettes from her hair, she gazed in the mirror, exhaled a shaky breath and prepared herself for the night ahead.
    She entered the other room and saw Chocolate curled up on the bed, looking like the lord of the spoiled-pet manor.
    â€œYou gave in,” she said to Ethan, who was crouched on the floor, building a fire in a stone hearth. “You let him have his way.”
    Engrossed in his task, he didn’t turn his head, not even for a quick glance. “I figured he was going to sleep with you anyway.”
    â€œWhat about the other dogs?”
    â€œThey’ll probably crash with me.”
    â€œWhat are their names?” she asked, realizing she’d never inquired about them.
    â€œClark and Kent.”
    â€œLike Superman?”
    He