Forbidden Dreams Read Online Free PDF Page B

Shivering, she wrapped her arms around herself and whistled for Skeena to come back. That kiss, the one that might have been meant for another woman but also might have been meant for her, told her that he, whoever he was, could very well be a danger to her. The sooner she got him on his feet and on his way, the better off she’d be.
    The first step in that maneuver would be a big cup of strong, hot coffee to sharpen her wits, give her courage, and set her up for the day.
    Surely, it would be perked by now.

Chapter Three
    S HELL HAD JUST WALKED back inside when she heard O’Keefe stumble from his room to the bathroom. By the time he emerged, she had her coffee poured and was reaching up to get a mug down for him. Hearing his soft, bare footfalls on the tile behind her, she forced herself to look over her shoulder and meet his gaze, and wondered if he could hear the loud hammering of her heart.
    She swept her gaze over him, the broad shoulders, muscular arms, and bruised chest visible above the green blanket wrapped high around his body. It parted as he took a halting step into the room, revealing the bandage she’d put on the night before. Blood had soaked through.
    “You’re a real mess,” she said. “I don’t know how you managed to get here, the shape you’re in.”
    He grinned a totally irresistible grin that made something very elemental flip over inside her.
    “Hell, honey,” he drawled. “A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”
    Shell had to laugh at the put-on John Wayne intonation. “I see. You’re just a natural born hero, are you?”
    Abruptly, she was all tangled up in the memory of his strong arms holding her, of that hot kiss in the dark night. Warmth stung her cheeks as she wondered if he had any recollection of it.
    Again, she swept her gaze over his blanket wrapped shape, swallowing hard at the sight of his sleep-tousled hair and the full day’s growth of beard on his face. Her skin tingled as she remembered the feel of that beard. He was handsome, virile, and disturbing on more than one front. She was going to have to stay on her guard, not let him see that he scared her. Vultures and sharks attacked the vulnerable; the only protection was strength.
    “Go back to bed,” she said briskly, pouring coffee from the heavy percolator. “I’ll bring your coffee to your room, where you’ll be warmer: It’s still too cold out here for you. What do you take in it?”
    Instead of obeying, he limped the rest of the way into the kitchen and pulled out a wooden chair. “Both,” he said, sinking onto it. He winced, sticking his sore leg out before him as if unable or unwilling to bend it.
    She set his cup on the table, along with powdered creamer and sugar. “You shouldn’t be up,” she said but dragged another chair closer and lifted his foot onto it.
    She poured him a glass of apple juice and set it beside his coffee. “How’s the pain?” she asked, picking up his pill bottle.
    His gesture indicated he didn’t want any. “It’s not too bad.” He took a healthy gulp of the juice. “They’re for migraines, but they seem to have worked on the rest of the agony too. Apart from a few dull aches, I feel pretty well human so long’s I don’t try to breathe too deep. Probably got some bruised ribs or something.”
    “Or something,” she agreed. “Now, suppose you—” tell me who you are and what you want , she had been about to say, but he let the blanket slide down several inches, and she broke off, gasping as even worse purple bruising was revealed.
    He prodded experimentally with blunt fingertips. “Nothing’s broken. I’m pretty sure of that.”
    “How can you be?” He’d looked bad enough the night before. Today he looked as if he’d been sent through a log peeler. “I’d still like to have a doctor look you over. If you feel up to traveling by car, I’ll take you into town with me when I go to work and drop you off at the emergency room. Otherwise, I’ll have to