The Last Lone Wolf Read Online Free PDF Page A

across the mountain. Inside, though, the oversize room was feeling a little cramped at the moment.
    She was standing just opposite him on the other side of the island. In front of her was more granite and a snaking stainless sink that served, as he recalled Kevin telling him once, as an “entertaining sink.” Apparently, you could stock drinks in ice at one end of the sink, then as the ice melted, it simply drained away.
    Didn’t impress Jericho any. A cooler was just as good.
    “You seem to have found your way around,” he said finally, when he noticed she was simply staring at him waiting for him to say something.
    “I have. It’s like exploring an amazing new country.” She slid open the refrigerated drawer, plucked something from inside and dropped it onto a plate beside a pie she’d already taken from the cooking tray. “Now, I want you to try this and I think you’ll be glad I talked you out ofhaving a sandwich,” she said, sliding the plate across the counter toward him.
    Jericho shifted his gaze from her to the plate and back again. “What is it?”
    “It’s good, ” she said, giving him a teasing smile. “Honestly, don’t you have any adventure in your soul?”
    “I’ve had plenty of adventures,” he countered. “I just don’t usually include food in them.”
    Still, he thought, it did smell good, not that he was going to admit it anytime soon. The half-a-pie was still steaming and alongside it sat a small bowl with a couple of radish roses, curls of carrot and celery beside a small dish of what looked like ranch dip. He lifted his gaze to hers. “Raw vegetables? Not a favorite.”
    “I’ll make a note,” she said with a shrug. “But for now, you could eat them anyway. They’re good for you.” Then she waved at the plate. “Try the pasty.”
    “Pasty?” One eyebrow lifted. “Not the definition of pasty that I’m familiar with.”
    It took a second to register, then she blushed—actually blushed, for God’s sake—chuckled and that soft sound rippled through the room. “I can imagine. But this is a meat pasty. They’re from Cornwall, originally, I think. Some say it pah-stee,” she said. “Wives made them for miners’ lunches. They were easy to carry and hold and satisfying enough to take care of a hardworking man’s hunger.”
    Jericho nodded absently as she talked. Picking up the half pie, he sniffed it again, almost suspiciously, then took a bite. The piecrust simply dissolved in his mouth and the filling was… He groaned.
    Daisy gave him a bright smile. “You like it!”
    “You could say that,” he muttered around another mouthful. He really hated to admit it, but she was a hell of a cook. “It’s great.”
    “I’m so glad. I made them to go along with the home made soup. I know soup isn’t a very substantial meal, but with the fresh bread and the pasties…”
    He held up one hand. Clearly extreme measures were needed if a man was going to get a word in edgewise. “You made fresh bread?”
    “It’s just a couple of loaves of quick bread.” She sounded almost apologetic. “That way I didn’t have to wait for the yeast to rise.”
    “Right.” She’d only been here a few hours and she’d made soup, bread and this incredible pie he couldn’t stop eating. Kevin was a good enough cook, but he didn’t have half the drive this one small woman did. Plus, he wasn’t exactly adventurous with his cooking, which was, frankly, one thing Jericho had liked about him. But, if this pasty of hers was any indication, he had a feeling “adventures in food” was going to be a good thing.
    And, he had to admit, she might look like a flighty little thing, but she sure as hell wasn’t afraid to work. She’d done more in a couple of hours than Kevin managed to do in a day. To be fair, Kevin probably would have enjoyed doing more, but cooking for a bunch of men probably sucked the creativity out of him. Daisy was still fresh enough that she was excited about her