Baby, It's Cold Outside Read Online Free PDF

the survival naïveté. Her believing herself to be so prepared, because she was, in her life; she just didn’t have skills that were relevant in this environment. Still, the truth of her situation was obvious, would have been obvious to a stone.
    She needed to be what she was. A healer. A doctor. He was sorry about the kid that died, but Emilie wasn’t dumb. She should get it. The death wasn’t on her. Bad stuff happened, to everyone and everything.
    His sympathy for her slowly, methodically decreased—exponentially the longer they played cards.
    “What,” he said, “do you always have luck like this?”
    “Luck?” she hooted. “Luck! This is skill, boy. Either put your bet in the pot or fold, youngster.”
    “This time,” he said patiently, “you have to be bluffing.”
    “You’ll have to pay to find out.”
    His eyes narrowed. “I’ll pay. But since I’m running out of toothpicks, I think we should make the stakes just a little more interesting.”

CHAPTER THREE
    “S TRIP ,” E MILIE ORDERED HIM , and had to chuckle when his jaw dropped in shock. Who’d have thought she’d have the feminine power to make him feel off balance? Or that her big-guy pirate could suddenly clear his throat because of nerves.
    “Now just hold your horses. I’m not out of toothpicks yet. Close, yeah. But this time I’ve got a good hand.”
    “I’m not talking about the poker game. I’m talking about the way you wince every time you twist your left arm and shoulder a certain way.”
    There. His nerve level immediately simmered down. His expression changed from sudden sexual awareness—to plain old annoyance. “It’s nothing. Play your cards.”
    “Fine. But that’s my bet. If I win, you take off your shirt.”
    “Don’t hold your breath, counting on winning,” he grumped, and held his cards closer than diamonds.
    Emilie wanted to chuckle again…yet felt her smile softening. The whole time they’d been playing poker, she kept recalling the story he’d told her. What a stupid wife he’d had. The woman had thrown out a man who loved her—loved, trusted, bared his soul with, appreciated, thewhole serious ball of wax. Good men, men who really knew how to love, were darned hard to find. And yeah, he was scruffy-looking. But now it made more sense, why he chose to go around looking like a disreputable, dangerous pirate.
    He’d felt betrayed.
    He’d been betrayed.
    He wasn’t encouraging anyone—man, woman or child—to get too close again.
    Calmly she laid down her hand. Three sixes. Two twos.
    He stared at it in disbelief. But he didn’t move.
    “Now come on,” she said teasingly. “This is no big deal. I just want to see the burn on your shoulder, that’s all. I told you I’m a doctor. You don’t need to be modest around me—”
    “Modest? Of course I’m not modest!”
    You’d think she’d accused him of kicking a puppy; he sounded that outraged. “I’m just asking you to take off the top layers around your left shoulder for a couple minutes. Even if you were modest, it’s no big thing, you know? I promise I won’t look at anything embarrassing—”
    “Oh, for Pete’s sake.” With a disgusted look, he started peeling.
    Which, of course, was precisely what she wanted him to do. Before he could balk again, she hustled into the kitchen to wash her hands and fetch the first aid supplies.
    Even with the tall, bright fire, there wasn’t enough light, so she added a lantern on the mantel.
    “It’s not worth all this fuss,” he said. “It’s a burn. Burns hurt. That’s life. It’s nothing.”
    It wasn’t “nothing.” He’d told her what happened, but now she could see it. Something burning had fallen on his shoulder—a branch, part of the roof or ceiling, whatever. The spot was a couple inches wide and several inches long. A spattering of burn “freckles” sprayed along his arm, as well, but the only sore likely to cause him trouble was the one burn. “You took good care of it,”