That was low, but I had to get you out of the house."
He was loath to let go of her wrists. Not wanting to get clipped was only one reason. The ire in those velvet eyes spoke volumes about her temper. No, it had more to do with the shape and fit of her against him. He switched to holding both her wrists with one hand. The fingers of his other hand sank deep into the always-present sweater – this time a deep forest green one – before finding her warm flesh below. Her frame – surprisingly solid. The purple fire shooting from her eyes made him grin. Even as he watched, she ran her tongue over her lips.
His stomach clenched. He reached and tugged her long braid.
He stared at her hands gripped in his. Blue veins wound from her fingers up and under her sleeve. He frowned and loosened his hold.
"Sorry." He grimaced as pink rushed through to her pale fingertips. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
Samantha tugged her hands free and stepped away from him. "I'm not hurt."
He glanced from her hands to her face, frowning. Somehow, he didn't think she'd tell him if she were. She wasn't going to change on his say so.
"May I come in?"
She shuffled her feet, but refused to look at him. More evasiveness. Not a surprise, coming from her. He waited for a moment before adding, "Please."
CHAPTER EIGHT
1:15 pm
S am didn't want to let him into her space. She didn't know how her ire had died so suddenly. But she didn't want to let it go just yet.
"Are you okay?"
She twisted around, brushing her hair from her eyes. "What the hell do you care?" The words burst out with more punch than she intended. Better to appear calm and rational than let him know how hurt and betrayed she really felt.
"We need to talk." he responded.
"What could there possibly be left to talk about?" She turned and walked into the cabin.
Brandt came in behind her.
She strode to the fridge and pulled out a jug of cold water. "Why won't you leave me alone?" she asked, without turning around.
A large muscled arm reached into the glass cupboard above her head, pulling out two tall glasses. He set them down on the counter and tugged the jug free from her fingers.
He appeared so in control, she wanted to scream at him. Her life was in turmoil. She watched as he poured two glasses.
Pissed at her reaction, she snatched one up and walked outside. Her nerves were rubbed raw. She could only take so much.
"I can't."
His answer hurt. She escaped toward Soldier. Her stocking feet whispered along the porch. Soldier still heard her. She couldn't see him, but she sensed his attention. "It's okay, boy. It's just me." The sensation of wariness coming from the cage never relaxed. She couldn't blame him, hers hadn't disappeared either.
A low growl erupted in the far corner.
"What's in there?" Brandt asked from behind her.
Sharper, higher pitched growls had the two of them backing up a few paces.
"That's some huge cage," Brandt said, his voice carefully moderated.
"He's a good-sized dog. And he obviously likes his space."
Brandt snorted and walked to the stairs and sat down. "You think?" He took a big drink, still staring at the cage. "Is he dangerous?"
"No." She amended her answer after a quick thought. "At least, I don't believe so."
He arched his eyebrow. "You mean you don't know?"
"I just got him," she muttered. She didn't think Soldier would really hurt anyone – unless they got too close.
She could feel Brandt's gaze burning her face. A hot flush washed over her cheeks. "So why are you here?" she asked.
Silence. She heard his heavy sigh on the air. From the corner of her eye, she saw his head turn, his focus on the view before them.
"I came to explain. I went to meet you for our eleven o'clock appointment. That's when I heard they'd called you for a visit earlier."
"Visit." Disbelief made her shake. "Did you say visit?" Her
He was loath to let go of her wrists. Not wanting to get clipped was only one reason. The ire in those velvet eyes spoke volumes about her temper. No, it had more to do with the shape and fit of her against him. He switched to holding both her wrists with one hand. The fingers of his other hand sank deep into the always-present sweater – this time a deep forest green one – before finding her warm flesh below. Her frame – surprisingly solid. The purple fire shooting from her eyes made him grin. Even as he watched, she ran her tongue over her lips.
His stomach clenched. He reached and tugged her long braid.
He stared at her hands gripped in his. Blue veins wound from her fingers up and under her sleeve. He frowned and loosened his hold.
"Sorry." He grimaced as pink rushed through to her pale fingertips. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
Samantha tugged her hands free and stepped away from him. "I'm not hurt."
He glanced from her hands to her face, frowning. Somehow, he didn't think she'd tell him if she were. She wasn't going to change on his say so.
"May I come in?"
She shuffled her feet, but refused to look at him. More evasiveness. Not a surprise, coming from her. He waited for a moment before adding, "Please."
CHAPTER EIGHT
1:15 pm
S am didn't want to let him into her space. She didn't know how her ire had died so suddenly. But she didn't want to let it go just yet.
"Are you okay?"
She twisted around, brushing her hair from her eyes. "What the hell do you care?" The words burst out with more punch than she intended. Better to appear calm and rational than let him know how hurt and betrayed she really felt.
"We need to talk." he responded.
"What could there possibly be left to talk about?" She turned and walked into the cabin.
Brandt came in behind her.
She strode to the fridge and pulled out a jug of cold water. "Why won't you leave me alone?" she asked, without turning around.
A large muscled arm reached into the glass cupboard above her head, pulling out two tall glasses. He set them down on the counter and tugged the jug free from her fingers.
He appeared so in control, she wanted to scream at him. Her life was in turmoil. She watched as he poured two glasses.
Pissed at her reaction, she snatched one up and walked outside. Her nerves were rubbed raw. She could only take so much.
"I can't."
His answer hurt. She escaped toward Soldier. Her stocking feet whispered along the porch. Soldier still heard her. She couldn't see him, but she sensed his attention. "It's okay, boy. It's just me." The sensation of wariness coming from the cage never relaxed. She couldn't blame him, hers hadn't disappeared either.
A low growl erupted in the far corner.
"What's in there?" Brandt asked from behind her.
Sharper, higher pitched growls had the two of them backing up a few paces.
"That's some huge cage," Brandt said, his voice carefully moderated.
"He's a good-sized dog. And he obviously likes his space."
Brandt snorted and walked to the stairs and sat down. "You think?" He took a big drink, still staring at the cage. "Is he dangerous?"
"No." She amended her answer after a quick thought. "At least, I don't believe so."
He arched his eyebrow. "You mean you don't know?"
"I just got him," she muttered. She didn't think Soldier would really hurt anyone – unless they got too close.
She could feel Brandt's gaze burning her face. A hot flush washed over her cheeks. "So why are you here?" she asked.
Silence. She heard his heavy sigh on the air. From the corner of her eye, she saw his head turn, his focus on the view before them.
"I came to explain. I went to meet you for our eleven o'clock appointment. That's when I heard they'd called you for a visit earlier."
"Visit." Disbelief made her shake. "Did you say visit?" Her
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