“This message has been deleted.”
“Carly. Mario. You up yet? Mom’s been bugging us to call you …”
“Deleted.”
“Carlotta Teresa Silver, I know you’re up now. This weather is awful, honey, we have lots of food and I really think you should come stay …”
“Deleted.”
“Carly, it’s Weege. Hey, do you think you could call Sheriff Neubaker’s wife, see if maybe she can talk him out of the ticket I got last night? I know you’re not supposed to do donuts, okay? But it was just in the parking lot, for chrissakes …”
“Deleted.”
“Carly, it’s Dad. Your mother thinks …”
“Carly, Mario again. You even alive over there?”
“Carly, got any extra sauce stuff you could bring over tonight? You know you’re gonna break and come, mama’s having a fit …”
“Carly, we need …”
“Carly …”
Gideon finally composed himself enough to round the corner, and found his hostess punching the delete button on her little answering machine with such force that he wasn’t sure it was going to make it to the end of her messages. She must have had the ringer off today, he guessed. Otherwise, from the sound of things, he never would have gotten to sleep in the first place.
“Sounds like you have an involved family.”
She must have been really concentrated, because at the sound of his voice Carly jumped about a foot in the air, then clutched her chest as she looked at him. He should have been prepared for it, but Gideon just hadn’t expected the sight of her to crash into him all over again. She’d pulled her hair back so that it fell in an elegant tail down her back, he saw, and she’d switched from the morning’s pajamas to a thin V-necked sweater that picked up the deep blue of her eyes and a pair of fitted jeans that showcased every curve he’d felt curled against him in the night, that had pressed up against him that morning. He flexed his hands, resisting the impulse to just grab her and fill his palms with those curves. Gideon kept his stance deliberately casual, hoping that none of the beast snapping at the end of its tether showed in his eyes.
Her flush, the small step back she took, told him he hadn’t been altogether successful.
“God, you scared me!” Her laugh was nervous, and she steadied herself with a hand on the corner of the breakfast bar where the answering machine now sat silent.
“Sorry. About that, and about the, er … well, you see, I was on the phone, and I must have nodded off …” Inwardly, Gideon winced as he heard whatever pathetic excuse was currently coming out of his mouth. And just what had he been doing on the phone in her room, then? Brilliant.
“Well, I know you were tired.” Carly’s eyes had dropped to the floor in discomfort. Her lack of anger, her refusal to meet his eyes had Gideon suddenly wondering just what she’d thought when she’d seen him. And somehow, within five seconds, he was picturing her naked again.
Damn it.
“Just, you know, next time …”
Gideon nodded, relieved that this was all the reprimand he was going to get. “Won’t happen again, I promise you.”
She looked up again, returned his nod. He watched her straighten herself, making a concerted effort not to cower in front of him, and he had to admire her for that. Gone was the bravery of the morning, he saw, probably a result of having had time to think about the situation and wonder exactly what she’d gotten herself into. Tentative interest had been replaced by wariness, and that something he couldn’t decipher.
He never had been able to read women well, had never sought out their company to try and get better at it, and no amount of wishing it were otherwise at this moment would change it. Still, he knew he was intimidating, whether he wanted to be or not, even around his own kind. It had to have taken a great deal of courage to let him stay, Gideon knew, and he was grateful for that, more than he knew how to express. The least he could do was to try and set her at ease for as long as she had to put up with his presence.
So, as the uncomfortable silence spun out, he tried again.
“I’m used to having a lot of people poking at me, as well.” He inclined his head toward the machine. “It can get frustrating.”
It took a few seconds for his words to sink in, but when they did, he was gratified to see they’d earned him a tentative smile. “Oh. Yeah, I guess I should be used to it. Big Italian family and all. And I love them. But sometimes …”
“You wish they’d just let you be for a while?”
“Exactly.”
They faced one another across the small living room which now seemed to Gideon a vast expanse, their uncertainty about what to do with one another a palpable thing. One of them was going to have to cross it. Gideon searched for something to say, something to further break the ice, but to his surprise, it was Carly who jumped into the breach.
“So … are you hungry? Because the foraging was a success. I’ve got dinner going.”
“Thank God,” Gideon sighed, and that earned him her soft, sparkling laughter. He felt the tension between them begin to ease almost immediately.
Carly gestured to the plush couch. “Well, good. If it’s one thing my mother taught me to do, it’s cook enough dinner for a small army. And lucky for you, I stole a few things suitable to cook that were neither freeze-dried nor chemically preserved. Sit.”
Gideon smirked. “Stay?”
“Good boy. You still look tired.” She looked at him closely, and her natural concern for him caused his stomach to do an odd little dance. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay? I can always call a doctor. Or a vet.”
“Funny.” Gideon threw himself onto the couch, sighing as he sank into the cushions. “No, I’m mending. I’ll be fine by tomorrow, really.” Please, God, and away from this maddening infatuation. “But thanks.”
She stood uncertainly in the middle of the room, playing with the small ring, coils of white gold set with glittering circles of pink sapphire, she wore on her right hand. “It’s going to be a few minutes. There are some sugary, fattening leftovers from this morning, if you’d like something to tide you over. I mean, just because you haven’t actually eaten anything today.”
Gideon shifted uncomfortably. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and he wasn’t about to be treated like a helpless infant. Carly obviously felt obligated, but it was wholly unnecessary. He’d never needed a nursemaid before. He wasn’t about to start looking now. “No, I’ll wait.”
“Would you like a drink, then?”
He felt himself bristle, tried to hide it behind a smile. “You don’t have to wait on me, Carly.”
She flushed. “Oh. Well, I’ll just, um, go back to cooking, then.” Gideon closed his eyes. Somehow, some way, he’d just managed to injure her feelings. The loud slamming of a cupboard seconds later confirmed it. Reluctantly, he dragged himself off the couch and headed into the kitchen to try and fix whatever the hell he’d just broken.
t t t
Maybe she was being a bitch, but just now, she didn’t really care. Her blood had been on a low simmer all damned day, and at this point, she was almost grateful it had finally shot up to full boil. It might not be quite the release her knotted-up body had in mind, but hey, it was at least something.
Carly opened a cupboard, took out glasses, slammed it shut. How dare he? Just dismiss her, in her own house, as though he was brushing off an annoying little insect. She banged the salad bowl on the counter, just for the hell of it, and went hunting for silverware. He’d better hope she didn’t find any sharp knives.
She felt, rather than heard, Gideon come into the kitchen behind her. Did he have to be so damned quiet all the time? She didn’t turn around, wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence. He sighed, loudly. It only pissed her off worse.
“Carly.”
“Just for your information, I’m not trying to wait on you, oh master. Maybe you’re some big deal back in Scotland and have women falling all over themselves to serve you, but around here, it’s just called common courtesy.” She stalked to the refrigerator, flung it open, and stared at the still-mostly-empty shelves. Maybe there was something good to throw. She considered a carton of milk a day past its sell-by date and a semi-flat liter bottle of soda.
“Carly, I …”
“And another thing,” she snapped, cutting him off smartly as she slammed the fridge shut again. She might have ruled out physical violence, but God, she needed to vent. “When someone saves your stupid life, then agrees to take you in out of a nasty storm, despite, I might add, your extreme weirdness, which would put almost everyone else completely off, you don’t treat them like some pathetic little girl making goo-goo eyes at you.”
She advanced on him, in full-blown rant mode now. Carly was gratified to see Gideon’s eyes widen slightly, and the small step back he took. “So I made you dinner. So what? You don’t want me to wait on you? Good. Go outside and make yourself a goddamned snow cone for all I care.” She ignored the confusion written so clearly across Gideon’s beautiful features, determined not to feel sorry for him. He’d hurt her feelings, damn it! He’d just wandered into her life and started to mess it up and didn’t even care what he was doing to her, getting her all churned up, and …
…and she didn’t even care why she was angry anymore. Still ignoring him, she went to another cupboard to find salad bowls. Naturally, being that they were used for healthy food, she’d put them way up out of her limited reach. Well, there was no way she was asking him for help, that was for sure. Carly blew a long blond strand of hair that had slipped free of her elastic out of her face and rose up on her tiptoes, willing herself to stretch another inch, possibly two or three, while she scrabbled uselessly at the edge of the shelf with her nails.
When his broad chest connected with her back, she stopped breathing. Quietly, deliberately, he reached above her head and extracted two salad bowls from the shelf, then, just as deliberately, set them down in front of her. Every place she felt him, every nerve ending brushed seemed to sing with the contact. Carly could actually feel all rational thought seeping out of her the longer Gideon stayed connected with her, leaving her with nothing but the insane urge to turn around, climb him like a tree, wrap her legs around his waist and bite.
