Dark Waters (2013) Read Online Free PDF Page A

features, fine boned and delicate, except for the tight clench of her jaw.
    There was no obvious threat in her pocketbook, but it didn’t mean he should let his guard down. He needed clothes. For some crazy reason, he was getting a little turned on by Miss Prim and Proper telling him who and what he was. It was probably being naked and within a hundred yards of anything two legged and female, but he didn’t want to scare her any more than he had already. He wasn’t a hound. Nor was he under any illusion about what she thought might happen when he grabbed her. Someone had jumped him in the shower once and lost their eye for the trouble. Hell, most people thought he was evil incarnate and that was the way he liked it. He reached past her and opened the door. “Inside. Now.”
    “I’m not going anywhere with you.” She tried to dodge aside.
    He grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her across his threshold. “You want to meet Brent? I’ll take you to him.” Her eyes were so huge with fear she looked like she’d been electrocuted. But she’d come to him, she had to play by his rules.



CHAPTER 2
    “Get your hands off me!”
    An elbow in the gut made Brent let her go. Jeez, she was a touchy little thing. He rubbed his stomach. It wasn’t like he was creeping around her place while she was nude, because he was damn sure she’d be crying bloody murder and he’d be waving at everyone from the back of a police cruiser. This was
his
property. It was nighttime. He’d been in bed. Kind of.
    “I don’t even know what I’m doing here.” The tiredness in her voice hit him differently than her anger had.
    “That makes two of us.” He opened the door to the laundry room just off to one side and snagged a pair of clean jeans from the top of the basket. Resting the gun and her bag on the washing machine, he kept his eye on her as he pulled the jeans on and zipped his manhood back into place. Then he dragged a black T-shirt over his head, grabbed his gun and her pocketbook, and skirted past her into the living room. He didn’t turn on the light.
    She hovered uncertainly in the hallway near the kitchen before following him through the moonlit house to stand beside the couch opposite.
    Hair brushed her shoulders in a dark mess. Eyes, wide and bright as a spaniel’s but not as full of terror as before. Hands were tightly clasped, betraying nerves she was trying hard to conceal. She wore a blouse, edged with silver ribbon that glinted in the darkness, and shorts that hit mid thigh and showed off a pair of very fine legs. The sneakers on her feet were the only concession to trekking through the wilderness.
    “What do you want with good old Brent?”
    “None of your business. Where is he?”
    She looked vaguely familiar but he couldn’t place her. “I’m his PA. Persuade me you need to talk to him and I’ll wake him.”
    She shifted her feet. “It’s personal. I’d rather talk to him.”
    Stubborn, that was for damn sure. “No one talks to Brent unless they go through me first.” Hell, he
should
hire a PA to deal with all the bullshit that came his way, but then he’d be stuck with someone in his house 24-7 and he’d rather not deal with people, period.
    He watched the internal struggle play out across her features. Dark eyes narrowing over a cute snub nose, her sweet bow of a mouth thinning, the delicate line of her throat rippling as she swallowed her frustration.
    Stymied.
    He smiled grimly.
    She leaned forward an inch. “I’m…er…in trouble—”
    “Pregnant?” No one was pinning a paternity suit on his ass and he’d sure as hell remember doing hers.
    “Don’t be an idiot,” she snapped.
    Ouch
. He absently rubbed his sternum. She started pacing the hardwood. “Although maybe
I’m
the idiot. I’ve come all this way on nothing more than one of his stupid whims.” She wiped her hands over her eyes. “Brent’s probably as trustworthy as my father was—”
    “Was?” he interrupted sharply.